[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"why?"

gia, curiosity killed the cat remember?

her brain hisses to stop, to take it at face value, to smile and bat her pretty eyes. she does the last part, at least... that's a plus, right? of course, it's easy when he flashes a grin and leans into the counter but that's neither here nor there.

"i'm somewhat of a regular here," she offers. it's a convenient location, nestled between a 24 hour diner and a corner store just down the street from her apartment. besides, it's easier to stumble home from here than from across town. unfortunately, she had to learn that lesson the hard way.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]the question hangs for a moment and then falls, dissipating between distant chatter surrounding them in the confines of the bar. it's loud enough to distract her from the lack of an answer, loud enough to distract her when he leans forward.

the hand around her drink tightens slightly, sinews and bones flexing for a moment and then settling back into neutral territory.

ah, there it is. she flashes a small smile in the face of recognition and leans some of her weight against a wooden counter.

"yes," she holds her tongue, then, as if she expects him to fill the holes of his memory in front of her. and yet, she doesn't wait for their last encounter to rise in his mind. she supplies it with the finishing of her drink and the clinking of empty glass returning to hard surface. "in the woods. i'm surprised you recognized me." flattered is more like it but oh well, he doesn't need to know that.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"that we did," she muses. sometimes, she almost wants to laugh about it because really, that actually happened? her body remembers it almost too well, the evidence of their hellish feat forever etched into her skin. the scars don't bother her much anymore but sometimes, when the light hits them just right, they bring back the sense of terror she felt. the sense of knocking on death's door that makes her skin crawl.

her hand signals for another drink and the bartender flashes a smile, retreating with her empty glass to return with another in a few moments.

he catches her off guard with that. it's always amusing how little words, strung up in a certain way, can reduce her to girlish ways. the tips of her ears flush a faint pink at the thought. glad to see her. what are the odds?

"are you?" she raises an eyebrow, as if she doesn't quite believe him, as if she won't let herself. it's covered with flirtation, with the drop of a gaze over his body and then back, lips curling. "why's that?"

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"really?" comes in a soft breath, as if she's unsure. realistically, it's uncommon for her to hear that someone actually enjoyed spending time with her. it's always hazy, anyway. alcohol induced hangouts ending the same way by the time night falls. and maybe she does believe him or maybe she doesn't. either way, she fixes him with a lazy smirk, her drink coming a moment later. "even after getting the shit knocked outta you?"

her hand draws the drink in close. a lifeline, a tether, an anchor. enough to keep her here, enough to keep her from getting too wrapped up in what could lie between the lines.

ah, but then he mirrors and she's upping the ante by shifting in her seat. the upper half of her body leans closer, drifting halfway between her bubble and his.

"oh, so you're not into getting whipped, then?"

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]her smile turns sheepish, a hand rising to twirl the end of a twin tail self-consciously. he has a point, really. she was a disaster during that entire thing. her body still aches sometimes, when cold comes and the winter air irritates her healed bones.

"true, that sucked." the pain, the hospital bed, the recovery. god, and the dent in her wallet from repairing her suit was terrible. she sips on the memory for a moment longer, allowing alcohol to burn it into her throat.

he bites at the bait she laid out. hook, line, and sinker. she can't exactly tell which one of them is reeling in the line, however. is it her or him?

"perhaps," she offers, light and airy. "is that your way of asking for it?" somehow, she didn't quite consider him the type. you know, given how he reacted the last time.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she flashes her teeth at him, too amused to lace any intention into it. besides, her tone, alone, seems to convey enough for her body to sit this round out.

"wouldn't you like to know."

while he gestures for another, she nurses her own. it burns enough to keep her present, even if the alcohol is slowly melting her brain into fuzzy mush.

"always," she almost snorts. her, keeping out of trouble? she'd have to be six feet under for that to ever be the case. "what do you take me for, hm?" anything besides a nuisance or a bandit would simply be beneath her.

LANCE VOLLANS