i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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cracked porcelain [c]
POSTED ON Jan 25, 2019 21:34:33 GMT
[attr="class","gabrielpost"]after several weeks of distance, his noivern has finally gotten over his wounded ego and spent quality time with elias. while the model was busy with laborious league missions, ambrosia had opted to keep his distance, only acknowledging the model when it came to their scheduled photo shoots in between elias' new league schedule.
and although neither of the two would ever admit it, ambrosia's worry about the model is part of the reason why he's trying in their relationship. the stress is eating away at the model, that much is clear. while fans and peers might not be able to peel back the glamorous layers of elias' stubborn personality and subtle makeups, ambrosia can see the signs--
shaking fingers, a small bottle of mouthwash in his purse, and the return of his more erratic eating habits.
the noivern had been the one who'd blown off their next mission and flown elias home. the model is relaxed now, busy privately soaking in a rainbow-colored bath. the clawfoot tub that stands on upraised rose gold tile is one of the only places the model ever feels he truly has any privacy.
ambrosia shifts from his position in the bedroom, hooking a claw on the latch to elias' wide balcony. he flutters/hops through the doorway and opens his wings to hop on the balcony's railing.
and then the bat's ears twitch. he cocks his head and looks down curiously. the doorbell to the model's flat goes off and elias' housekeeper answers it a moment later, beckoning in the newcomer while explaining that elias is still just getting ready, and to make himself at home while she fetches him.
"ambrosia, dear, is that the journalist?" calls the model from the bathroom. ambrosia can distinctly make out the sounds of elias' wet feet padding across the tile floor, towel swinging as he wraps it around himself. "i'm sure catherine will be here soon to do a touch-up. i reminded her earlier this morning."
elias strides confidently to the double doors beside his bed; the room he walks into is nearly as large as the first and racks upon racks of clothing line the walls. he plucks out an outfit without much thought (it would seem, but anyone who knew elias would have known that he'd been concocting the perfect outfit the entire time he'd bathed). he waggles his fingers and ambrosia hops in, ducking his head to don a matching scarf.
"fancy the circlet?" elias asks, glancing sideways at the noivern. ambrosia nods and turns his head so that the model may place the golden circlet tastefully lopsided-like around one horned ear. the noivern's abnormally slender ears twitch as he hears elias' stylist trot up the steps.
"elias, honey, the journalist is here. i'll be doing your makeup while he starts the interview. may i come in?"
he tugs the white blouse over his head, shivering delightfully against the chill that graces his back. the fabric is silky, modest in the front, but exposed in the back; tastefully frayed threads barely hold the blouse together, sagging in ripples against the model's freckled back. he tugs on some lovely blue linens, clasps a golden belt--to match the noivern's circlet--around his thin waist, and greets his stylist at the stairs.
his long hair is still dripping, though he'd messily tied it in a haphazard braid. the front of his white shirt turns translucent and he smiles to himself, knowing that his day-old, dewy makeup, slightly imperfect from the bath's heat, makes him positively radiant.
he steps into the journalist's waiting room and almost purrs, "how nice to be around normal company for a change."
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