LUCIANO!
a single dark brow raises high over tanned skin, an unspoken acceptance of the subtle challenge. any man with a penchant for trouble knows better than to take the easy way out. he could disagree, stay true to his original proposal, sure, but there’s a glint in the eyes staring up at him that entices him. a dance with the devil. flipping the coin, luciano lets it fall back to his palm but instead of revealing the face, he keeps his fist closed. ‘both,’ he declares, nodding toward the expanse of bottles behind the bar. ‘pick your poison, and maybe i’ll even tip if he can get those cheeks of yours pink with only two drinks.’
sweet lips painted crimson suppressed the deadliest of toxins ( toxins that asserted the capability to bring even the toughest of men to his knees in remorse ), none knew the world of hurt the dark-crowned dame was capable until she wanted them to, so sweetness was attainable by the mere lift of a finger. “both?” with the corners of plump lips curved in amusement, a hand moved to brush against the arm of the dark-haired beau, index and middle fingers coaxing an accessible forearm. turning to the bartender, maritza ordered the simplest drink that came to mind --- drinking wasn’t the main of her concerns at the moment, anyway --- before lifting a gaze to luciano’s temptingly. “it’ll take more than a drink or two and back-handed compliments for that.” edging closer, a darkened gaze studied that of the male / canines barred upon taking a lower lip between them. “i’ve a few constructive suggestions if you might like to hear them.”
