Smells Like Something I've Forgotten (Open) Apr 5, 2009 23:43:47 GMT -8
Post by Trevor Williams on Apr 5, 2009 23:43:47 GMT -8
((Dumb muse wouldn't leave me alone for something meaningless...))
Friday, December 17, 2010
Every day was exactly the same, and frankly, Trevor was looking for something new and exciting. He didn't know what exactly that something new and exciting was, but he was willing to settle on an experience that was out of the ordinary, and going to a night club, much less a pub, and much less Lure, was not something that was on his normal itinerary. He figured it would be the same old story he had seen played over and over at these places. There would be some shady characters, and there would be women out looking for men and men out looking for women for "harmless" one night stands. He simply had to remember he had a home to return to before he was completely drawn into the atmosphere and what was going on around him, and all would be well. And if Evie wanted to ask questions, then so be it. It wasn't like going to a night club was a crime or a sin or something, was it? What harm was there in a little drinking and a little dancing? It wasn't like he was going there with the intention to do something extramarital, and there would be no way she could prove he had done anything wrong. Hell, he'd even take Veritaserum just to please her.
Ugh, changing him. She was changing him. That's all women wanted from him, he felt. Change, change, change, change! Pull his heart this way, pull it that way. Try to get him to do their beck and call like they had whips right at his back. It was getting in the way! This woman was different than the rest. She was different than that innocent, stupid fool Elanor Godfrey whom he'd fucked and killed all in one night and gotten away scott free. She was different than Sienna Faber, though she rivaled her in bed. She was certainly different than Morgana. She seemed to just want him to love her and provide for her and be happy, but he knew there was more. There was a hidden message between all those alluring smiles and seductive gazes. Evie wanted him to change. She wanted him to do as she willed, not as he did. She wanted to take away his freedom of choice, of decision, and no more!
Once this baby was delivered, it was over. A simple birthing complication would be to blame, and once more he would be free. Shedding himself of Morgana would be an entirely different matter entirely. Love was a tricky thing. She loved him, believed he loved her (but did he really? He wasn't sure. He was never sure about anything anymore, damn temptress of a woman!), but "hell hat no fury than a woman scorned." Merlin knew she'd rise from her grave should he stab her in the back and make sure he died an excruciating death, but if he kept her alive and sated for sake of keeping her from doing so, he was right back in square one, shackles and all.
The almost aphrodisiac-like smell of the club and the hypnotic, steady, bouncing beat of the music as well as the flashing lights of the club drew in all of the senses of the thirty-eight-year-old ruler all at once. The strong smells of sweat and alcohol pervaded his sense of smell, reminding him of his youth. The sensual sirens flirting with him, hoping that for the small "fee" of a dance he would buy them a drink, were no different than those he had encountered in his youth--skimpier, perhaps, more obvious, but nothing new. He dismissed them with a sense of grace he knew he could soon easily lose should he consume the very drinks they sought. To lose himself completely was tempting. His feet hit the ground in tempo with the heavy beat of the music, and smirking, he caught the appreciative glances from the group of young seductresses as he passed by them.
Their illustrious eyes caught his attention more than their scant clothing. In them, he could find more than bared skin and plump, lipstick-covered lips could show him. The outfits they wore only went to show he still had what it took to draw the younger crowd. No self-respecting nearly forty-year-old woman would show that much lack of taste, but it was different, and different was what he was going for. Different--something that didn't happen within twenty-four hours comprised of sleep, morning routines, meals, trips to the bathroom, office work, family life, and nightly routines. Something was always missing in his life, and no matter what he tried, it was never enough. Something was always missing, always evading him, only leaving hints of itself behind to fool him into believing he had found "it," whatever "it" was. Satisfaction seemed never to be his, but tonight, even if for only a few hours, it would be.
Perhaps it would not be blue-eyed, brunet Trevor Williams' satisfaction, but it would be brown-eyed, blond Cal Landon's. For tonight, he had set aside his duties to a wizarding people; for tonight, he was simply a charming man like any other in this crowd, except a bit too pedigreed for simple, meaningless pick-up lines. He was a man who knew what he wanted and went for it, and when he did not see it, he simply kept to himself, watching the crowd from his perch upon a bar stool, enjoying a bottle of the finest firewhisky the club had to offer. Evie knew he was out, and no one would recognize him. He had nothing to worry about.