#emperror

“ What, did you drink to the point of another death? Sounds like a skill issue to me. “

With one leg crossed over the other on the table, Betty watched the moth demon struggle with a chirp of amusement — but the second he pushed her away to dispel the remainder of what resided in his stomach, that’s when the concern kicked in.

“ Woah — easy, sweetheart…blyat, da, you really do not look well… “

Worried about him passing out, slender arms wrapped around his waist to guide him down onto the bed, placing the back of her hand to his forehead to check his temperature,

“ Deep breaths…I actually know some remedies from my past that may aid in this leetle predicament. But before that, let us identify the core issue at hand…

What are your symptoms, darling? “

The car ride had been silent as the grave, and yet Emil had remained stone-faced and composed during all of it. When they'd stopped at the motel, he'd checked his face in the rearview mirror. Still red on the side that his father had struck, with a thin cut from his wedding ring right over the cheekbone.

It didn't look good, but he concocted a story in case someone asked. No one did. The motel they'd stopped at was in a part of town where people didn't ask questions, and all the better for it. When they'd parked, Emil hadn't hesitated in heading into the front lobby, telling Era to wait for him. He was grateful, at least, that he'd had time to grab his wallet, and that he'd had a little cash on him. Enough to get a room for the night at least.

He'd made the appropriate small talk with the front desk clerk, and he was calm and collected. A lifetime spent compartmentalizing, of seeing text notifications on his mother's phone from men he didn't know and then sitting down for family dinners like nothing was amiss, of keeping people's secrets, of oh, no, just took a bad hit at fencing practice yesterday had made it an easy thing.

But as always, Erasmo was able to shake that away from him with a single gesture, to get a genuinely honest reaction. Just for a moment. Emil stiffened, ever so briefly, in Era's arms, before he relaxed.

"--Yeah," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

It was the only thing he said before he pulled away, walking to the window and peeking through the blinds.

"We're going to need to ditch the car. The cops are going to be looking for it. And--ugh. Right. Our phones, we probably should get rid of those too. Can't use my cards, probably not smart to go tracking down an ATM right now either... I've got cash on me, but not too much." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is all going to be on the news by morning, and then it's going to be even harder to move. We need to get out of town. I mean, fuck, I did just kill a senator--"

--his voice cracked, and in an instant, the spell was broken. Emil wavered, just slightly on his feet.

"..."

[ txt ]: who the fuck is this

"Anything else?"

He repeated the question back, with a teasing tone to his voice. Vox pretended to considered that for a moment, fingers still caressing Val's hand in his.

"Hm... maybe 'let Daddy take you to that new boutique in town for some new shoes?'" He pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist, screen tilted to the side a bit--but the look of mischief on his face still clear. "Or maybe 'I got you a new outfit for the party next week.'" That one was actually true, but he usually got new outfits for Val before their parties--if only just because they tended to be ruined by the end of the night.

His mouth moved further up his arm, hands caressing further up, almost reverent. "Or 'I love how happy you look when I sweettalk you.' 'I can't wait to get you into bed tonight.' 'I want to blow off work and spend the rest of the day with you.'" He knew that seemed almost too good to be true, for the lifelong workaholic, and Vox surprised himself with just how much he meant it.

He tugged him back down gently, fingers of his free hand caressing the side of his neck as he leaned in close.