[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"]"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"]"no way."

he's the last person she expects. an old mission partner, left to become nothing more than a memory. sure, he saved her life and all, but she never planned on running into him again. especially not here, in one of the seediest bars of mauville.

"do," she pauses upon settling into the seat next to him, blinking for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. she doesn't bother to finish the question she was going to blurt out, instead letting it fester in her mind. do you remember me? the question is one she doesn't want to breathe life into, as if it reeks of desperation and a need for attention. she recovers, just barely, to smile and usher out a different one. "do you come here often?"

nice, good save.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]the tugging and leading is welcome, if only because she's sluggish. alcohol slows her movements, allowing heeled feet to stumble slightly every few steps. eventually they stop and she steadies when elevator doors close.

the steel wall behind her is cool, firm, comforting.

and then, it's all passion bleeding between kisses and a fumbling hand. she meets his aggression halfway, sinking further into the wall as hands tug him closer. if the elevator dings to signal their arrival, she doesn't pay it any mind.

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]he grabs her hand and her attention is momentarily snagged. his presence engulfs her and she allows her fingers to slowly entangle around his. he leads, she follows, and it's hard to watch their surroundings when her gaze keeps dropping to connected palms.

"um," she starts, considers, stops. her place is closer, sure, but there's an openness that comes with bringing a man back to her place. it's like showing a bare piece of her, a piece that she refuses to allow to see the light of day. quickly, she covers her tracks with a suggestion. "yours."

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]he pulls away affection, lust, desire, and she almost feels cold. she calls for one more drink to warm herself again, as if the alcohol provides what others cannot. it doesn't, really... it simply clouds her mind from seeking what she craves.

"okay," she replies, not yet rising from her seat.

the drink comes, then, and she's staring at it for a moment. a hand moves, grasps the glass, and raises it. when it returns, it's empty and she's a little less.

"lead the way." she's not looking at him, not yet. only the door.

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]the lack of a response unsettles her, as if she can't supply the answers she seeks because she doesn't believe them.

it fades with each kiss, each nip, and a purr until she forgets what she wanted.

"sure," she murmurs. he says one thing but she knows another. men always want one thing and naturally, she supplies. sometimes, she wonders what it'd be like to be wanted for something else. something pure or something more... well, herself. maybe she'll never know.

either way, who is she to deny?

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]"how?" curiosity killed the cat.

and satisfaction brings it back.

"will you?"

her eyes want to flutter shut, her neck wants to tilt for full access. it's hard to hold steady, hard to keep from folding.

"are you submitting to me or your own needs?" either way, she'll be content.

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]her eyes dart to find his, if only to gauge a reaction.

"what makes me special compared to the rest?"

she's fishing, that much she recognizes. will he give in? will he feed her lies?

lips brush against the skin of her neck. nerves surge to life and she's tilting her head almost involuntarily.

"what if it is?"

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]"for me," she echoes softly. she wants to believe it, almost craves to. and yet, something holds her back.

trust issues.

"do you say that to everyone, cian?"

the squeeze ignites a fire and she's having trouble keeping it in control. his lips lingering too close to her ear leaves a shiver. she covers it with the shifting of her hips in a seat.

"just consider it?" for her, for the game. hmm... it's almost enough.

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]where he rises with hunger, she counters with feigned indifference. his remark earns a contemplative silence. her eyes drop to her glass, to swirl the empty container around in her hands. eventually, it's replaced with a full one and liquid sloshes and escapes in droplets on the back of her hand.

only when he drifts within a closer orbit does she turn her head slightly.

"a stalemate, then?"

she won't break. not first, not yet. he has to work for it.

didn't he say she should feel special, anyway?

CIAN MAHER

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]ah. in hindsight, she probably should have prepared for the question presented. of course giada morgan is all impulses and blind emotion, however, and any preparation to be made is lost on her. she glides through life on feelings, on split second decisions and consequences.

this is no different. in some way, it's almost worse.

"had your back," she offers. it's not enough, that much she knows. and yet, it feels like everything. emma wolfe is a woman who needs no one but there's something that compels gia to stay. despite the cold front, despite the lack of anything, she stays rooted in place. what remains of her drink is downed and mulled over until it burns its memory into her throat.

"god," comes tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. there's an almost sheepish look to her, as if it doesn't quite fit on her features enough to make full sense. "could've done something more than just left you."

it's not that simple, though. it never is.

Emma Wolfe

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]oh, is that the beginning of a flush? she'll mask it with the finishing of a drink, with a quick motion and blonde strands shifting to hide. it could be chalked up to alcohol anyway, right?

the best for her is a nice thought in concept but does it come to fruition? she's not certain and the notion that it could be a well versed lie keeps her toying.

"never said you were, either." it's subtle. a mild means to pick at his resolve, as if she can pluck it apart with tweezers and a determined brow. instead, she resorts to less pristine means.

his hand glides and she glances toward him, empty glass returning to counter with a soft clink.

"the game just started, though," she murmurs. there's a shift in her legs, an invitation yet a challenge all at once. test the rules, test the boundary.

it's a dare, she realizes with the spread of lips into a grin. absolutely a dare.

CIAN MAHER