Silver-tongue || Evan & Regulus
@arctural - Based of this song
The Black family held rather wonderful, select gatherings and he’d attended more than a few in his time. Not simply because of his relation as a cousin, but because he shared many of the values of the old and traditional way and his blood and stature reflected that. There was a meeting of the like minded and he felt less of a need to put on heirs here than he would elsewhere.
So, there was no grand piano playing, no working the room with a perfect smile and a half drunk flute of champagne, no regaling crowds with a perfect anecdote for the occasion. Simply him, sitting on a plush armchair with a tumbler of firewhiskey and an expressionless look upon his face. Some people had an intrinsic expression their face rested in, one they didn’t even know they were doing; Evan was different. His default expression was unreadable, as though nothing were there at all. Like an ambush predator waiting in perfect stillness for prey to amble too close and strike interest... and it just so happened one did.
In a moment, life seemed to flood his frame. He relaxed further into the chair, tilted his head up with wide eyes and a small smile and his hand even gently rotated the whiskey glass. “Ahh, the most noble Mr. Black, enjoying your evening I hope?” he asked softly, the should’ve been a greeting but managed to still hold that predatory air, how a fox would speak to a chicken...
