A few seconds later, and the door swings open. There stands Henry, his shell of politeness crafted anew; but so immaculate that it's notable, as though more purposeful than usual.]
[ the lady herself standing stiff and tired-looking, and though she's trying to avoid looking him in the eye... she can feel that "wall" of politesse between them. ]
Here.
[ holds out her hand. a small stack of folded kerchiefs tied with a ribbon. ]
[ there are three. one white. one with a rough, stitched constellation of stars. one with a bloodstain—serving to form the red hourglass of a black widow spider. ]
[White, like clean linen. Constellations, like the stars he used to appreciate, hanging in the sky. And the bloodstain…
No, the crimson hourglass of a black widow spider.
Oh, that wall of politeness suddenly seems thinner, no longer an invisible bulwark the way it was. It’s replaced by slight bafflement, because the appreciation has not settled yet until he questions—]
Why?
[Why’s she giving this to him? In the wake of their last interaction, he’s not sure he understands.]
[He was a fool. He forgot about her tongue. The way it wrapped around the lollipop, long and sinuous. And now, the way its tip wraps around his tongue, a sensation he never could have imagined in its…
Intimacy? Salaciousness? Both?
If he felt warm before, his blood feels all too close to the surface of his skin now. Her touch is firm at the back of his shoulders; his other hand lowers to wrap around her waist, their bodies pressing closer.
As for his mouth… well, he doesn’t know how to respond. He keeps their lips sealed together, unless she pulls back far enough to break it, but all the while his tongue tries to move against her far more dexterous one. Another sound, one that might have been a guttering breath of his mouth were free.]
[ he's too tall, and she's too short. when he tries to bring her closer, she finds herself having to bend over almost backwards to accommodate for that tug. in some ways that's sensual of itself, but mostly, the back of her neck's beginning to ache.
with a slow, warm exhale through her nose, she pulls away. she slides the pursed 'o' of her lips down the length of his tongue. at the end, there's a quiet pop as the kiss finally breaks. some saliva has smeared around her mouth, adding back shine where her lip tint wore away; Sprezzatura rubs her thumb there to dry the skin.
[Whatcha looking for, Sprezzatura. Signs of growing excitement? She’d find it.
But Henry’s too busy reeling from that kiss to be fully aware of physiological reactions beyond the feeling of his face burning after she pulls away, looking down at her like he’s been deprived of something previously unknown, but now utterly critical to his existence.
He’s just… utterly bewildered. Entranced, even, his lips wet and glistening. Just like hers, a sight he takes in greedily before she wipes the saliva away.]
[ he looks like an utterly different man like this. wanting, needful for something she has and is dangling in front of him. her own cheeks are warmer, a pooling flush, but on Sprezzatura, it adds to the picture further, as opposed to making her look like an inexperienced schoolgirl. ]
Not enough, hmm? I am not kissing more than this in public.
[The flush makes her look divine. Bafflingly tempting in ways he’s never experienced to this degree, even the last time they kissed.
His hand trails low, idly brushing a thumb across her chin. Everything about her face is otherworldly and compelling to him right now, in this very… keyed-up state.
[River Kwan had a quiet Christmas with the family before checking into Hotel Caelum. He's a simple young man who has yet to think of a wish during his stay so his only goal is to be on a well-earned vacation with otherworldly neighbors to share it with.
So one fine day post-Christmas on Floor 003, some cheerful whistling echoes down the hallway. River has a towel hanging over his shoulders and a gallon jug of water hanging off of his fingers.
He stops in front of Room 0302 when he glances sideways and lights up at a familiar face several yards away.]
YOOOOOO!! Are we neighbors? Holy shit, this is freaking sweet!!
[He was on his way back to his room when a baleful (not really) whistling echoes down the halls. Henry has no reason to think anything inconvenient of it, just another guest ambling down the corridor, until he turns his head and sees...
That man. That empty-headed doctor.
And god, the reaction that causes. Henry actually takes a whole two seconds to slide on his usual veneer of politeness, a flicker of annoyance darkening his brow first.]
Are we? What a nice surprise. Which room's yours, then?
[If he's the one right across the hall, between him and Sprezzatura's room... Wouldn't that just figure.]
[The doctor is grinning from ear to ear as if Henry's sudden company is the best thing that has happened to him today. His question has him beaming as he makes a gesture with three fingers.]
[So. 302. He really is stuck with this man across the hall, but maybe with any luck, he can mostly avoid him. He seems outgoing; he might not even be in his room most of the time.]
The three of us guests, in our own little cluster. How [awful] funny.
[A thunk… is not really a knock. As such, given the nature of this hotel, it really could be anything—
But Henry, who would not dare take the chance to not open the door, does exactly that. From halfway across the room (still crowded with her things), using his telekinesis to swing it open, brow furrowed.
Could it be a certain tiefling perhaps, or is he going to continually be driven mad by wishful thinking—]
[ a certain tiefling is indeed standing there. she's dressed more pragmatically than she's ever been, in clothes more suited for adventuring, or perhaps attending an archaeological dig. with her hair up in a messy (very messy) bun, wearing spectacles that are a little bit bent, and smeared with dust and some grime. she also looks very tired, because she is, and her brows are up when the door swings open on its own.
she meant to go straight to her room, but... it seems her subconscious had other plans ]
She's dressed differently, looks different. Appears as though time has passed by for her, while it's been at a standstill for him. She's dirtied, and tired, and she seems surprised that he's still in his room.
Henry doesn't care. It's her.
He stands up so suddenly that he nearly knocks over the chair he had been seated on, near his small desk with an open sketchbook before him. A pencil rolls off and clatters to the floor. Surprise lances through him, and it feels like an electric shock; his heart beats all the way up to his throat.]
[POWER WALKS RIGHT OVER TO HER TO GIVE HER THE BIGGEST HUG HE CAN MANAGE, not caring if he gets grime and dust on his own light-colored clothes. He practically lifts her inches off the ground, and that's saying something for this noodle man.]
[ she's swept up, inhaling in surprise and then gasping out as she's lifted. behind her, Sprezzatura's tail twitches up in hello, but her arms remain still for a few seconds before she wraps them around.
has he been waiting... all this time... for her? he didn't wash his hands of it? what?
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A few seconds later, and the door swings open. There stands Henry, his shell of politeness crafted anew; but so immaculate that it's notable, as though more purposeful than usual.]
Sprezzatura. Hi. Is everything okay?
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Here.
[ holds out her hand. a small stack of folded kerchiefs tied with a ribbon. ]
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Reaches out to take them, turning them over in his hands.]
What’s this for?
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For this blood you are always getting covered in.
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No, the crimson hourglass of a black widow spider.
Oh, that wall of politeness suddenly seems thinner, no longer an invisible bulwark the way it was. It’s replaced by slight bafflement, because the appreciation has not settled yet until he questions—]
Why?
[Why’s she giving this to him? In the wake of their last interaction, he’s not sure he understands.]
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no one look
[He was a fool. He forgot about her tongue. The way it wrapped around the lollipop, long and sinuous. And now, the way its tip wraps around his tongue, a sensation he never could have imagined in its…
Intimacy? Salaciousness? Both?
If he felt warm before, his blood feels all too close to the surface of his skin now. Her touch is firm at the back of his shoulders; his other hand lowers to wrap around her waist, their bodies pressing closer.
As for his mouth… well, he doesn’t know how to respond. He keeps their lips sealed together, unless she pulls back far enough to break it, but all the while his tongue tries to move against her far more dexterous one. Another sound, one that might have been a guttering breath of his mouth were free.]
eyes emoji
with a slow, warm exhale through her nose, she pulls away. she slides the pursed 'o' of her lips down the length of his tongue. at the end, there's a quiet pop as the kiss finally breaks. some saliva has smeared around her mouth, adding back shine where her lip tint wore away; Sprezzatura rubs her thumb there to dry the skin.
non-subtle glance...... down.... ]
Mmh. That should suffice, shouldn't it?
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But Henry’s too busy reeling from that kiss to be fully aware of physiological reactions beyond the feeling of his face burning after she pulls away, looking down at her like he’s been deprived of something previously unknown, but now utterly critical to his existence.
He’s just… utterly bewildered. Entranced, even, his lips wet and glistening. Just like hers, a sight he takes in greedily before she wipes the saliva away.]
No. Why’d you stop?
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Not enough, hmm? I am not kissing more than this in public.
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His hand trails low, idly brushing a thumb across her chin. Everything about her face is otherworldly and compelling to him right now, in this very… keyed-up state.
He heard that qualifier.]
And in private?
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Who could say? We would have to find out.
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did we actually warn for nsfw?? this is nsfw btw
if it wasn't before then it definitely is now
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automatically generated bday post;
BIRTHDAY: November 1st
FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Birthday cake
WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: To exist in a world that doesn’t feel like theatre
HELLO NEIGHBOR 🧍
So one fine day post-Christmas on Floor 003, some cheerful whistling echoes down the hallway. River has a towel hanging over his shoulders and a gallon jug of water hanging off of his fingers.
He stops in front of Room 0302 when he glances sideways and lights up at a familiar face several yards away.]
YOOOOOO!! Are we neighbors? Holy shit, this is freaking sweet!!
man_standing emoji intensifies
That man. That empty-headed doctor.
And god, the reaction that causes. Henry actually takes a whole two seconds to slide on his usual veneer of politeness, a flicker of annoyance darkening his brow first.]
Are we? What a nice surprise. Which room's yours, then?
[If he's the one right across the hall, between him and Sprezzatura's room... Wouldn't that just figure.]
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Well, what's three minus one?
[Aggressively making the ✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️]
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Well, let me guess. Two.
[So. 302. He really is stuck with this man across the hall, but maybe with any luck, he can mostly avoid him. He seems outgoing; he might not even be in his room most of the time.]
The three of us guests, in our own little cluster. How [awful] funny.
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[He glances at said door with some mild curiosity.]
Who's staying in there? Guess I'll say hi to them when they show up later.
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well. more like... thunk. just one. ]
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But Henry, who would not dare take the chance to not open the door, does exactly that. From halfway across the room (still crowded with her things), using his telekinesis to swing it open, brow furrowed.
Could it be a certain tiefling perhaps, or is he going to continually be driven mad by wishful thinking—]
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she meant to go straight to her room, but... it seems her subconscious had other plans ]
Ah. You are still here.
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She's dressed differently, looks different. Appears as though time has passed by for her, while it's been at a standstill for him. She's dirtied, and tired, and she seems surprised that he's still in his room.
Henry doesn't care. It's her.
He stands up so suddenly that he nearly knocks over the chair he had been seated on, near his small desk with an open sketchbook before him. A pencil rolls off and clatters to the floor. Surprise lances through him, and it feels like an electric shock; his heart beats all the way up to his throat.]
You're back.
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You did come back.
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has he been waiting... all this time... for her? he didn't wash his hands of it? what?
what does she even say to that? what?
what? ]
How long has it been?
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