unspxkenattraction:
Smiling down at his friend, Vladamir shook his head at her, gently reaching out to tap her nose as she readjusted his collar. It was very sweet, he thought; Delia was very flirtatious by nature, and he often found himself at the base of much of her affections. It was flattering, even if there were no romantic implications. He knew that it was just in Delia’s manner to enjoy partying with her friends, and to get a kick out of throwing herself at handsome men and equally gorgeous girls; he found her to be very endearing and, as gorgeous and sweet a girl as she was, he often thought that if he weren’t so wrapped up in the Sophie of it all, that he might have once been drawn to the blonde in his arms.
Drawing her in a little closer, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, before allowing her to traipse into his tiny apartment, a cheery smile gracing his own features.
“Ah. No. A history teacher,” he corrected her with a smirk.
An eyebrow shot up at the latter end of her sentence, but he merely pushed it aside. He knew that a lot of people cared terribly about their status and their ‘rep’, and that a girl as gorgeous and wantable as Delia wasn’t exactly the kind of person that you’d connect with sci-fi television shows about alien time travellers. He didn’t quite see why, having always believed that people were made up of a whole multitude of traits and layers that often overlapped and criss-crossed, traits that sometimes held similarities and sometimes did not – if everyone were just predictable and plain then the world would be an awfully boring place, he believed.
He watched as she made herself busy, scanning his bookshelves, eyes squinting as she tried to make out the words on the pages. The vast majority of the works that lay before her were, of course, in Russian, and while several volumes were in her own mother tongue, too, he had an array of titles varying from languages such as Greek, Spanish, German, and even Gaelic. He had no idea just how many languages Delia was accustomed too, or if she was only familiar with English, but if her expression was anything to go by, she wasn’t having much luck with the ones she encountered.
“That is true, I could,” he noted, his tone amused. Padding his way across the apartment, he decided to take a seat while she rooted through his shelves. Drawing his knees up and resting his feet on the small table in front of him, he laughed. “But, alas, I do not want to, my dear.”
He shook his head at her latter comment, staring down into his lap in amusement. He wasn’t embarrassed, so to speak, and he wasn’t inclined to blush at such talk either. Vlad wasn’t shy about sex, and had ventured as far with a multitude of lovely people over the years; some friends, some total strangers, and one particularly special girl who had managed to leave a slight dent in his heart – or, if he were to shoulder the blame as he should, a girl whose heart he’d left a dent in. Even so, it was that very same girl that seemed to have a hold on him even when she was nowhere to be seen. Thoughts of Sophie meant that Vlad hadn’t even so much as looked at a guy or a girl since their parting, and the idea of betraying his heart now felt wrong.
“My darling, I know fine well that when you say 'read’, that you do not actually mean 'read’,” he responded, glancing back up at Delia who had now grown board of his bookshelf.
He watched as she wandered over to the kitchen – the two rooms adjoined in his tiny apartment, no walls or doors separating the large space – and he let out a gentle sigh. He did not want to disappoint his friend by any means, nor did he want to take away from her fun, or ruin her night, and so he rose to his feet and joined her, his back against the kitchen counter as he knocked their hips together gently.
“My dearest, Delia,” he started, giving her a sideways glance. “By all means, go out and enjoy your night, my sweet girl. Hot chocolate, a hint of whiskey – if you so behave – and cuddles in front of the television; that is what is on the cards here tonight, my dear. But it is always an option; my door, and my arms, are always open to you, lovely girl. You do not have to sacrifice your night for me.”
His words were soft, with no teasing or humour in them, nor a hint of manipulation. Delia was one of his many dear friends, and he enjoyed her company profusely, but he had no intentions of taking her away from the lovely Isabella, or the charming Bertie. He had plenty of nights ahead of him where he would happily embrace her on the sofa with a night full of netflix if she so wished.
“Those are my terms, sweetheart. Go. Enjoy your night,” he told her.
“Yes, yes, Mister History Professor, sir.” Delia mock saluted, even as she tottered around his apartment, the gesture aimed as best in his direction she could. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, as her mind was focusing more on the bookshelves than their conversation, the remark tossed airily over her shoulder. She spoke two languages - English and Science, and one of those wasn’t a lexicon she used openly. Still, she was naturally curious and drawn to something she could learn from when her guard was down from the drinks she’d shared with Izzy.
“Well, if you don’t want to come and read, you can come and party.” She pointed out slyly, never one to drop a subject or miss an opportunity to back up her argument when her opponent presented the chance. She spoke with a teasing tone, however, not wanting to annoy him really; that being said she doubted she’d get a temper flare from Vlad, the most good-natured man in America. Delia’s gentle ribbing was always tempered by the fact her huge heart would stop her from saying anything truly mean or
She watched him carefully, smirk playing at her lips, as he crossed the room towards her. She twisted around so they were both leaning back against the counter, tipping her head to rest on his shoulder with a dramatically long-suffering sigh. A riot of blond curls tipped across his jacket collar and probably got in his face, but anyone who was used to affection from Delia ad to quickly get used to blowing hair away from their mouths or untucking it from unexpected crevices. It still made her giggle to remember JP’s first words to her, the oh so eloquent ‘dang girl, you’re like a poodle or somethin’’.
With her heels on, she was the slightest bit taller than Vlad (when she was actually upright and not slouched into him in order to stand up). Kicking them off, she dropped three inches, settling more comfortably against him as he laid out his terms.
“Hmm...” She rolled her head back to look at the ceiling, elbows supporting her on the counter. The action unconsciously (or maybe it was consciously, Delia was never very good at turning off her flirtatious nature in a situation that didn’t call for it) pushed her chest out, hair slipping over her shoulders as she mused her options.
Now that she was in a warm apartment, the thought of tottering back out into the chilly evening wasn’t looking too fun. It also occurred to her that Izzy never mentioned where they were going, so she’d have to traipse from bar to bar trying to find them and it was no fun drinking alone - her mother as all the evidence she needed of that - so she’d inevitably sober up in the process.
“Oh, Vladdybear, what do you do to me?” She mused aloud, smiling sweetly at him and fluttering her eyelashes. “Okay, final deal - a glass of whiskey each, then hot chocolate and a movie or two.” She pushed herself upright, stepping forward so she was stood in front of him. Gently grasping his chin, she leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips, as playful and teasing as all their cheek and forehead exchanges, to seal the deal.
Pulling back, she swiped her thumb over the smudge of lipstick she’d left on his mouth from the smooch and grinned at him. Turning on her heel, mane of hair catching Vlad as she whirled, she padded through to the room she knew was his.
“I’m borrowing a shirt!” She called in explanation over her shoulder. If she was going to settle down for the night, she was going to do it in comfort rather than style. In the doorway, she looked back at him. “Then we can be matching professors.” She teased.