COMMAND RESPECT

this  ichor,  it  burdens  my  soul

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

Soft laughter leaves Jameson’s lips at the other woman’s concern. It feels nice for once, to see that someone cares. Even if she is being polite; the sincerity in her voice is not something she could shake off. Being two blocks away from Jennifer’s place, she hits the break – her eyes focussed on the streets; drafting up her epic entry into the other’s condo complex. 

` Thanks, much appreciated. For seconds there I wasn’t sure if you were capable of giving a damn. ’ She speaks in jest, her eyes searching for her residential area before she pulls up to the parking spot – punching in the numbers Jennifer has instructed her to do so. A message of approval lights up, the bar lifting itself up as she drives her car into the underground basement parking.  ` Okay, I’m going underground. So I’m gonna hang up. ’

When her car is parked into the spot beside Jennifer’s car, she leaves; holding the bottle of scotch in her hand. Car locked, heels clicking towards the automatic door that opens up for her until she reaches to the monitor. Deft fingers punch in the code, dial tone playing as she waited for the other to let her in. Briefly, she hears Jennifer’s voice – allowing her to enter the building. 

Her body in the elevator to the 42nd floor, her heart beating fast at each anticipating moment of seeing her again. She still remembers the feeling of her lips against her own, and she craves that feeling almost desperately. The eighteen year bottle of Glenfiddich’s single malt scotch is gripped tightly around the neck of the bottle with each moment passing by, with each floor passing by. Her heart racing at the prospect of seeing the other woman in her domestic space. She’s never entered her space before, and for that, there is a mingling of excitement and trepidation. 

Immediately, upon arriving she finds the unit number and knocks on the door – awaiting for the other woman to come and receive her. A part of her, nervous at seeing her but… it shouldn’t be a big deal. They are just getting together as friends…right? 

When she sees Jennifer, she struts into the place as if she owns it, taking off her heels before placing the bottle of scotch on the most convenient table top in relationship to herself.  ` Nice place you got here. ’

A glimmer of joy crosses her features -- her cocoa eyes light up at the anticipation of seeing the other. For what seemingly feels like a long time, the moments between the ending of their phone call and the knock on her door happened relatively quickly. If she is to be completely candid, she is uncertain if she is ready to see her yet. After all, she is -- in clothes that would not deem her as attractive to the market. Yet, should it matter? Should it matter when it is a simple rendezvous betwixt two friends over glasses of scotch? It should not.

Yet, when she opens her door for the other woman -- she could not help but to stare at her. Red dress, red lipstick -- her heart stops for the briefest of moments. Dumbstruck by the other woman’s beauty, the alluring aura on her body does not seem to stop emitting from her. She, is rendered completely and utterly useless. Her attire --- one that could be dubbed a work of sublime beauty, her presentation; it leaves her utterly speechless. For her, it feels as if time has stopped moving; for Jameson, apparently she is simply a bad hostess.

❝ Uh, thank you. Designed it myself. ❞ She manages meekly, smiling at her guest that seems to have found pleasure in perusing her space. From the large collection of books that sit within her tall bookshelf, greeting every guest whom arrives by resting by the couches; to the framed pictures of her dogs, everything in this apartment -- even the monochromatic colour choices were made by her. Naturally, to receive a compliment from another, she is more than happy.

❝ Take a seat, ❞ she gestures towards her black faux leather couch before stepping into her open-concept kitchen, resting within the same space as her living room. Jennifer stands tall to reach for her glasses, taking them out of her cupboard and then settling them gently onto the kitchen island.  ❝ Want anything to eat? I have some strawberries, yogurt, sour cream and onion chips, er, ❞ her hand rustles a bag. She pulls out the item in question as her face twists in confusion.  ❝ and funyuns? I have no idea I had this. ❞      

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

` Shh…. ’ Her fingers coming to brush the other’s loose strands of hair away. Gently, she cups her face into her own as her eyes close. Their lips come closer to touch – she is nervous; her lips are trembling slightly. Perhaps, scared of being a disappointment to the other. It feels as if her heart could jump out of her chest within any moment now – then, fireworks. Their lips touch. Her hand instinctually pulling the other’s hip closer to her own. This feels right, the way how they collide – the way how she seems to melt against herself; the way how she seems to be willing to surrender the ownership of her castle walls as they tumble, crumble into this gentle cushion to catch them as they fall.

It has been so long since she had kissed like this. Being a woman in her early thirties, she has yet to have any serious relationships with anyone. She’s come close though, but never like this. Having only met this woman, there is a lingering feeling within herself – a feeling that screams as if they were meant to be. Of course they were. It only makes sense for them to have such physical synergy with another – the way how they’re both willing to indulge in the other person’s witty sparring of words, the way how their lips seem to melt against one another; akin to a dance between the two. 

She is enchanted by her. Clumsily, she trips and lands onto her couch, pulling the other woman on top of herself. For a brief moment, her eyes open; almost mystified by her, her hand comes to cup her face. Her signature smug look wiped from her face; all that was left is the tender look donned onto her face before asking for her permission. She has never been this soft with anyone before, and this, scares her a little bit. 

` That wasn’t half bad. ’ No, it was amazing.  ` Wanna come over to my place for another drink? You wouldn’t have to buy anything from the store.  I have plenty and I live alone. ’ She is breaking her principles, never would she proposition someone to come over to her place. Historically, her place has only been a place that she goes back to rest her body – not a place where she would have to kick out one night stands. However, she has a lingering feeling that they would not do more than just kiss for the night.

At least for now. There are no expectations for Jennifer, unless the other woman wanted otherwise. Besides that, she is a respectful person. At times, she can come off as sleazy, but she would never force herself onto another person. Because doing that is just wrong. A ‘no’ is a ‘no’, unless it is the courtroom – but this is a person who she does not want to hurt; so she must respect her boundaries.  ` It’s not far from here – maybe a fifteen minute walk? I wouldn’t know. I don’t walk to work. ’ 

When their lips touch, it feels as if all her worries and anxieties were so easily washed away; akin to the seaweeds on the sand, when the gentle waves meet the shore, they seem to have seamlessly disappear. Such tenderness, something that she has never been quite acquainted with -- her eyes flutter shut, her hands slowly coming to wrap around the other woman’s neck as she pulls into the kiss deeper. For once, she could feel herself wanting more -- maybe, Jameson is a good kisser, and perhaps, this is how she lures in all the other women around her. Regardless of the situation, she finds the voices at the back of her head completely silenced. She, is completely at her mercy. 

It almost feels as if their bodies were made for each other; the way how her lips feels like a missing puzzle piece against her own -- the way how their bodies seem to intertwine with one another. This moment, it’s perfect; seize it, because there isn’t an indicator on when it would end. This connection established between the two of them, one that she never could seem to replicate with anyone in her past -- it leaves her breathless. If she is a believer of fate, she might even believe that the two of them are meant to be, or that they were fated to meet. Yet, it feels too carefully orchestrated for a moment of coincidence. Whatever the reason is, she is glad in this moment that they are together... even if it is brief.

Even if her train of thoughts are interrupted by the tripping of the other woman, even if it is interrupted by her falling atop of her. Jennifer is dumbfounded, tongue tied as she finds themselves in a rather compromising position : her, on top of her lap, straddling her against the couch. Her cheeks redder than before, her eyes staring off into space, into her eyes. She isn’t listening to a single word that Jameson had been uttering -- breathless, she is taken aback by how beautiful she is. Such pronounced collarbones, such jawlines... she couldn’t stop staring until the other woman breaks her trance of thoughts.

❝ Uh... sure. I don’t see why not, I suppose if you insist on it.  ❞ An uncharacteristic answer escapes her lips. She isn’t sure why she agreed to this, especially given her resolve to simply walk away and never call back. However, it wouldn’t hurt... because they’re just becoming friendly... right? Regardless of the situation, she merely smiles; pulling herself off from the other woman as she fixes her hair in the mirror across from her.  ❝ Why don’t you lead the way? ❞  

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

Eyes widen in surprise, surprised at the other woman’s actions to kiss her forehead. For what seems to be a tough woman, for what seems to be someone who is so emotionally unavailable… her kiss was… tender. Her breath hitches, her heart races; she isn’t sure why. Perhaps, it has been a long time since she had experienced something this pure. Dumbstruck she remains, her eyes remain widened – not listening to half of the things that Jennifer is going off about; until her body rises, then, Jameson feels a primal urge to do the same.

` W-Wait! ’ She calls after her. It is unlike her to do that, but usually she would let someone go if they wanted to. For some reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling of letting Jennifer go – maybe, in some twisted way, this person is supposed to be her intellectual equal… maybe, a real friend for once. Regardless of the situation, there is a feeling she can’t shake and can’t seem to ignore. Her fingers are already outstretched, tugging at the hem of the hoodie she wears. Damn it, now she has to talk herself out of this. 

Cheeks flustered, tongue tied, a truly ironic situation to be under. For someone who talks for a living, her words can’t seem to leave her lips – her cheeks seem to be flustered, her poker face failing big time. Her body only inches closer to the other woman, until there isn’t much space left between them. Blue eyes darken at the sight of the other, cheeks reddened. The other’s lack of resistance seems to be a good sign for her.

` Stay. Don’t go. ’ She insists upon the other. Her fingers lightly wrapping themselves around her waist before offering a soft smile. Oh, how those words leave her lips like a spell, a spell that has herself wrapped around the other woman’s fingers. She could kiss her right now… they’re so close, and yet, she is hesitant to make the presumptive move.  ` I want to kiss you… would you let me? ’

Friends don’t kiss friends... right? And yet, she couldn’t help but to feel compelled by those words she utters. It almost feels as if she is wanted, as if she isn’t simply wanted for carnal embrace or the likes. It has been a long time since she had felt this way... perhaps, this is the first time she feels like this. They have just met, but she feels as if she could confide in her -- even if she is a snarky, condescending, and self absorbed lawyer; even if she doesn’t agree with her moral codes, or the way how she speaks -- for once, she feels as if she could fully put her trust into someone . But those very impulse of herself is what terrifies her the most.

What if she is misguided? What if this woman, is merely manipulating her into thinking that she could be trustworthy and then only using her body for these acts. No, she refuses to become anyone’s toy. If, with the right resolve and the right amount of determination, she is sure that she could escape from the cage the other would try to ensnare her within. After all, she is used to intimacy without feelings; she is used to pleasure without the pains of emotions.

I want to kiss you... those words, ring in her mind; akin to an echo that refuses to fade into obscurity. A death waltz of decisions, the final step before declaring ‘checkmate’ or surrendering -- her eyes, analytical; running each possibility through every methodology she could think of. She thinks about the payoffs, the benefits, and the harms; she thinks about the statistics of the different variables, the probability of failure. Again, much of the human mind cannot be quantified... her results, are obsolete. It is a leap of faith she must take. 

Jennifer loathes uncertainty. But she cannot deny that the feelings she harbours for the other, is certainly, something of fondness -- perhaps, a yearning or desire. It is, only one kiss. It should not hurt. She steps closer; a smug grin plastering across her lips, brow lofts high as an act of defiance.  ❝ Then do it. ❞  What is she waiting for? Her declaration bold; her eyes curious. It is just one kiss... and that’s it.  ❝ Nervous? ❞  

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

` What are you? Embezzling money from the student union? ’ Jameson laughs heartily. Good thing for Jennifer, most times she operates as a ‘no questions asked’ lawyer – as in, she doesn’t care if her client is telling the truth or not, so long as they give her enough information to work with. 

Naturally, that would have been a reference to something that has happened in her law school days when the Law Students Association’s president was accused of embezzling money from their union. There was a whole theatrical display and all! Court, ‘judge’, and jury! Naturally, she was ruled guilty and subsequently had to pay back the students… huh. She wonders how Alina Johnson is doing – especially since she was ostracized by her fellow peers. 

Funny thing is, those who preached justice then have gone on to become sleazy lawyers like the rest of the lot. Dreams were borne from goodness and kindness, yet, reality acts as the executioner, silencing any lingering hope they might have once had. The passion they once had to provide justice, to provide service to those who are underprivileged. Yet, here she is. Only accepting the clients who can pay her the best; only accepting those who have the higher probability of winning.

` Anyways, here’s my number. ’ Jameson says, having already texted a message to Jennifer’s number, with her in full display. A simple ‘Hey it’s Jameson’ message sent to her, before she puts her phone away.  ` If you ever find yourself in trouble… feel free to call me. So long as you pay generously, ’ she snorts before sadly eyeing at the empty glass of scotch. ` Or if you want to have a drink with me. You’re an entertaining presence; and I promise, there would not be any vodka sodas… or any questionable college level mixed drinks. I swear. ’

❝ You’re funny, ❞ she remarks before pulling her lips against the other’s forehead, planting a soft kiss onto her skin. She isn’t sure why she did that. But perhaps it is merely an act of endearment, or perhaps, it’s a sign to show that she thinks her actions are at best, adorable. Regardless of her situation, there is a lingering after thought to her actions. 

Why is heart beating so fast? Being uncertain with herself, she could not pinpoint the feeling. Never had she been shy when kissed upon or returning a kiss to another. Jameson... she’s different. For reasons she could not tell, for reasons she could not comprehend -- her lips tingle; as if she had kissed the waxen surface of Icarus when he flew too close to the sun. There is anticipation lingering within her... she wants more. Yet, she is moments shy of asking this woman for her permission; so, she attempts to brush off this forehead kiss as if it means nothing to her -- or perhaps, play it as if it never happened. 

❝ Out of scotch huh? How about I go buy some for you as a way of compensation. ❞ She announces, before finishing her own glass. It still burns her -- yet, somehow, that one shot of scotch has taken her much longer to finish than a glass of wine. Her body rises, cheeks redder than before -- not from the alcohol, but rather from her own actions. Embarrassment, is what she feels -- she doesn’t want to see her ever again. Frantically packing what little belongings she has here, her body moves to the door.  

❝ I’ll be back soon. Just let me back up. ❞ A meek smile graces her lips. Perhaps, a part of her feels guilty. But she knows that Jameson could find someone better... after all, it appears that she is well versed in this department.  

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

` Oh come on. Won’t you humour me for even a minute here? ’ Jameson crosses her arms across her shoulders, head tilted to one side – a look of surprise painted across her features. There is something different about this woman. Most, when they hear about her profession could not even bear the thought of jumping into her pants, could not even wait for them to ‘make love’ to one another… yet, this Jennifer woman is proving herself to be rather difficult. 

Could it be? That she found herself an intellectual equal? Such wit, and remarks – a certain elegance in her simple words she spews. There is an air of mystery about this woman that she wishes to unravel. Pouring another glass of scotch for herself, she finishes the bottle in the process. Jameson pulls her lips against the brim of the glass, sipping at the alcohol settled within her glass before allowing herself to tower closer towards the other woman. 

` How do you like the scotch? It’s not my best one… but, it’s a neat conversation piece. ’ She smiles, her body settling down on the couch beside her. There is a gentle smile that graces her lips, her body keeping a respectful distance from the other.  ` All jokes aside. You don’t have to give me any information you don’t want to. However, I do think you and I, would make fine friends – don’t you agree? ’

A look of disbelief colours her face at the other’s remark : there is something charming about her. Perhaps, it is her showing restraint, or perhaps, this is merely a persuasion tool for the other. Regardless of the situation, Jennifer feels more compelled now to give Jameson her cellphone number. Hands outstretched, taking a convenient pad of sticky notes as well as a pen, she haphazardly scribbles on her number before sticking it onto the other’s forehead. A sly smile graces her lips, akin to the looks of Cheshire Cat.

❝ I might need a lawyer to bail me out. ❞  She chuckles. Very real possibility. There are moments where she could trigger her powers at the worst times possible. One time, a poor man was tasered by an electroshock --- one, that directly came from her fingertips; one that was circuited through her veins. However, her words are only said in half jest. Otherwise, she fully has no intention on using her.  ❝ Now give me yours. It’s only fair -- as you would say. ❞

She takes another sip of the scotch, again, grimacing slightly before a sigh falls from her lips. Eyes look to the other woman, before she shakes her head.  ❝ I’m more of a wine person, if I am to be candid. However, I never say no to free drinks... unless it’s vodka soda. ❞ She’s beautiful. Now that Jameson is closer to her, she begins to notice the little intricacies etched onto her face -- the way how her blue eyes crinkle, the way how her steely blue, from a warm hue of light could look like the ocean’s top. Something about her is enthralling, but she would never admit that aloud.  

[chineseactorandactress]

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

` If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought this was a ‘u up?’ text from a fuck boy. ’ Jameson laughs at her own humour, entertained by herself. If she would, she would give herself a high five. However, all jokes aside, she wonders what Jennifer is doing on the other end of the line – she wonders if she is alright, she wonders…

Closing her laptop, she swivels her chair around before looking outside, then to the bottle of scotch that’s in her bookcase. For what seems rare for Jennifer to call her late at night, she could not help but to allow her mind to run into places where impure thoughts run amok. For a serious moment, she contemplates on her next move before she slips out of her pyjama t-shirt and shorts – before picking out a red dress from her closet. 

` Hey since you’re up, wanna grab a drink with me? I have a bottle of scotch – meet at your place? ’ Jameson grins from ear to ear, whilst she double checks for smudges on her lipstick before grabbing the bottle and hopping into her car. Presumptive she is, but however, she is not one to make judgements that are uncertain – she knows, that Jennifer also craves company and who is she to deny her of that privilege? 

` Don’t say no. I’m already in my car and I’m coming over. ’ She speaks the truth, as the engine revs, her mirrors adjusted, and her seatbelt placed in. There are better things to do with her Friday nights than to do more paper work, and spending it with Jennifer is one of them.

There is no stopping her, even if she wanted to. Jameson is just that brand of stubborn; the childish type who when resolved to a single mission would not cease until mission completed. In ways, it is endearing but in other times, it is agitating. However, in this moment she merely sighs as a defeated smile trace along her lips.

After all, this is what she wants from the other woman. She does want to see her desperately, even if she is unwilling to admit that. Her body moves to the room beside them, noticing her dog already sound asleep. When Bao is asleep, he would be asleep for the next couple of hours; perhaps, that is the beauty of having an adult dog versus a puppy. However, she digresses. She doesn’t speak into the microphone, instead she merely drops onto her couch in a comfy fashion.

❝ I don’t suppose I have an option -- I won’t say no, however, if you wake up my dog you are responsible for the consequences. ❞  She quips, her body snuggling against the armrest in her pyjama shorts and t-shirt, her hair in a messy bun -- not suited for any sort of dates. However, they’re only friends... right? It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

Friends who might have kissed a few times. Friends who might have hooked up a few times. It’s not a big deal... right?

The answer would have normally been ‘no’ but given the fact that Jennifer feels rather attached to the other woman, it proves to be a difficult ruling for her to make. Her heart races fast at the prospect of the other woman coming over -- but, she refuses to doll herself up in ways of expecting them to proposition sex to one another.

❝ The buzzer number is 4211; guest parking is available, I have two parking spots. Before you go into the parking lot push the code 10EF, then you will have access to my other spot. I hope you’re driving sober, because you know my area has a lot of police. ❞ Her statement is more like a friendly warning, a voice of concern as her hands linger on her phone, unsure what else to say to the other.  ❝ Jameson... j-just be safe... okay? ❞    

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

` A professor? So, your people were the ones responsible for causing my peers and I stress? ’ She laughs in jest obviously. Law school, for what only happened a couple years ago feels much like a distant memory of hers – one that she could look bad on rather fondly. Ha, that’s funny, for her law school would never be filled with fond memories. All it has been for her were booze, weed, cigarettes and energy drinks; sleepless nights she endured, mountain loads of work she too had to deal with. A part of her, is sincerely, glad that she no longer is in school.

` Toronto you say? So you’re Canadian? Funny thing is, I grew up in Vancouver – it appears that Canadians are everywhere. ’ Another glass down, before she pours another glass for herself. Or maybe, she should stop. After all, she is giving this woman waaay too much information about herself. Ah, what a pity.  ` What made you decide to come to America? You realize we don’t have free healthcare right? ’

She chuckles at her own remark, always amused by her own sense of humour. Dry, but witty – as she would like to put it. Jameson eyes the glass of amber fluid, before handing it over to the other woman.  ` Take it. This is making me talk too much – we should be on equal footing. Also, by the way, now that you know more than three pieces of information about myself you are required to give me your number. ’

Jennifer makes no remark at the other one’s snarky statement, for she knows all too well the hatred students show towards them on their merciless RateMyProfessor reviews.  Their frustrations justified, her self consciousness surrounding these issues prove to be nonexistent. So, she merely laughs softly at the remark -- almost dismissively. Taking in the glass of scotch, she raises her brow at the other woman, wondering if this glass of liquid of safe to drink. It is true that she watched Jameson pour the bottle into her glass, with no room to tamper with her drink or the likes -- yet, being naturally distrusting, no one can really blame her for her scepticism.

❝ Interesting, I lived in Vancouver for a couple of years. It seems like this city is rife with Vancouverites. ❞  An amused chuckle escape her lips, her eyes looking at the brazened fluid lying before her. Her reflections ripple, her nose burns from the fumes -- and before she knows it, her lips is touching against the brim; her tongue tastes the burn of the scotch, as it slides down her throat. She grimaces briefly prior to wiping her lips before looking at the other.  ❝ Funny, I guess I could ask the same out of you. I came because I was offered opportunities to grow. ❞  

Another sip of scotch -- it is not the smoothest scotch she has had, but it is not bad either. Then, when she hears the comment the other woman makes she could not help but to chortle, having to settle her glass on the coffee table beside her.  ❝ How many times have you used this pickup line? Tell you what, if you Google my name and institution, you can find my email and landline. Feel free to call me if you have any inquiries. ❞  

[draconichor]

waterlifed‌.

How annoying it is for her to encounter someone who is so intent on interrogating her – is the person before her a cop? Or perhaps a private detective? Regardless of the situation, she finds herself cornered – perhaps, trapped in a sparring of words with the other woman. The more elusive she interprets her, the more she feels the burning need to conquer her. Annoyed at the barrage of questions, she merely sighs before taking out a bottle of scotch, pouring it into her rocks glass whilst keeping her eye contact with the other. 

` You have a lot of questions, don’t’cha? Well, let me humour you then. ’ There is a pause between her words, as she allows herself to swallow the amber fluid, feeling the slightest of burning sensations down her throat. Damn, this is good. Legs crossed, her body settled atop her mahogany tabletop.  ` I did. I went there longer than I should’ve. Done my undergrad there, did law school there as well. What about you? Where did you go to school? ’ 

And during the process, it gave me crippling depression – which would be the words remain unsaid.

Very well, she shall indulge Jameson Murdock in a dance; a dance of words, a tango of wits -- smirk growing on her lips as she grows more comfortable in the hoodie given to her. It reminds her of the days in her undergrad where she would simply lounge in her hoodie for days; where she would refuse to leave the libraries, or her residential area until otherwise provoked. A memory, not so fond in the distance of her mind -- she, for one, is glad that she no longer is at the student end of academia; she, for one, is glad that there are no arbitrary deadlines she has to meet ( aside from the ones set by her publishers ). 

However, she laughs at her commentary -- one, that she could very much relate to. Yet, here she is, with her PhD obtained, with her license to teach at one of the best institutes in the world. Perhaps, academics have left her with more problems then she had intended; or perhaps, it left her with coping mechanisms that is simply awful, for her wellbeing.

❝ Well, for my undergrad I was at the University of Toronto. Then for my masters, I went to Oxford, and finally I finished my PhD at Harvard. ❞  She takes a thoughtful pause, before allowing a shrug to fall onto her shoulders.  ❝ Now, I work at Columbia as a professor. ❞   

[draconichor]

                               If I were to lay beside your side, then I ask you to -- stay, don’t go. If I were to touch you, caress you lightly beneath my fingertips then I plea silently -- please, don’t go. To love and to believe, you are my all and my all, you shall be. Perhaps, I have fallen irretrievably in love with your soul -- the ichor in my body burns with each lingering thoughts of your curvatures. You, are who I desire to intertwine my very existential being with; you, are who I decided I have trust with my life -- so I ask you to stay, because if you were to do otherwise...                                         I think it would break me.

[draconichor]

waterlifed.

Restless lawyer, nimble fingers typing on her keyboard with gusto, as if to accomplish as much as she physically could within a short amount of time. Words appear on her screen, with each passing minute flying faster than she could comprehend; there is no stopping her – no stopping her restless mind as she draws her conclusions, her fuel refills in an endless cycle of productivity. 

Then she hears her phone ring; along popping up a picture of Jennifer’s ID picture. For what seems like a fond smile on her lips, she allows herself to stare at it for the briefest of moments. It surprises her to see her so happy, perhaps, that had been an act.

Clicking on the ear piece to answer, she hears the other speak to her on the other end of the line. A brow lofts high, intrigued by the words that leaves the other woman’s lips; Jameson would not admit this but for a moment there : she smiled.

` Missed me, Jen? ’ One day, this haughtiness is what is going to get her killed. However, today is not the day. Despite the teasing tones in her voice, Jameson is still smiling at the sound of Jennifer’s voice.  ` Sleep? Sleep is for the weak. Now, shoot. What’s up? ’

How refreshing it is for her to hear the voice of sheer arrogance. A moment of disbelief, a chortle releases from her lips -- how ridiculous; yet, how endearing of her to act in such a manner. Yet, for someone who is a wordsmith, the lack of ambiguity surprises her. Perhaps, it is the precision that catches her off guard, or perhaps it is the sheer amount of confidence that radiates from the other end of the phone. 

Regardless of the situation, she feels her chest heavy -- heavy with the thoughts of Jameson; heavy with the thoughts of her the way how her fingers trailed so lightly, so tenderly against her skin. Uncharacteristically, she bites on her bottom lip -- eyes furrowed, before a heavy exhale escapes her lips.

What does she tell her? That she wants to see her? That she wants to fall asleep with her? 

Yet, at the barrage of questions thrown her direction, she finds herself dumbfounded. She breathes lightly against the microphone, letting the other know that she hasn’t hung up yet. But her heart races fast, leaving the usually eloquent speaker, rendered useless. 

❝ You should get some sleep. It’s late, Jameson. ❞ She finally manages to speak, managing the stutters that would escape her lips as best as she could. Monotonous in her words, shaky in her breath -- she hopes that to the other, she still sounded composed.  ❝ I-It’s nothing. I don’t know why I just decided to call you. Impulse, I guess. ❞    

[draconichor]

UPDATE: if you noticed that you’ve been softblocked / i’ve unfollowed you, it’s nothing personal. i’m making this blog a 1-v-1 blog now due to me managing other blogs, and because i do plan to write an original lore involving jen and it’s hard for me to write with her interacting with characters of worlds that do not involve my lore. i hope people can understand!

[ccarrollphoto]

Visit Original Link

It’s just a drop in the ocean, a change in the weather.

[draconichor]

今晚，陪我睡？

           ❝ 滚。 ❞  

[draconichor]

voulez vous couchez avec moi?

           ❝ ce soir? non, je suis uhm… occupé. ❞  

[draconichor]

❛ insufferable lawyer.

Distant aquas narrow, a dimmed glimmer within jaded eyes, akin to the ascriptions of fate : this is strange ; strange in the sense of different, strange in the sense of fresh. Her eyes piquing with curiosity, a defeated smile, her demeanour conquered by the sheer determination of the other woman. Heavenly physique turns around, hands reaching heaven bound, tugging at the pair of ‘Columbia University’ hoodie from atop, whilst a pair of black sweat pants follows suite. Without another moment of hesitance, she tosses the set of clothes at the other.  

` Congratulation, you can read. Now, what’s your name. It’s only fair if I get the same amount of information that you’ve gotten out of me. ’  SNEER FALLS FROM HER TIERS, the reluctancy and aggravation that a stranger has a copious amount of information about herself. 

                                          BROWN EYES ARE QUICK TO NOTICE her place of work’s logo and design, there is some amusement that flickers within her features as she allows her arms to slide through the sleeves. Yet, she has the tendency to withhold information from others -- but somehow, she’s lured in by the other woman; akin to a sailor lured by a SIREN SONG. Perhaps, she could entertain the prospect of such requests --- very well, she offers her a cheshire smile, LET THE GAMES BEGIN. 

           ❝  you may call me Jennifer.  ❞   A resolute response to the other woman, a resolve to remain succinct and to remain at a slightly more anonymous position. After all, there is a lack of need for her further entertain this woman despite the fact that she did share her sweater with her ( albeit, against her will ) -- however, if Jennifer is to be honest, she does not care if she did; in her mind, Jameson owed her that much.   ❝  you went to Columbia, huh?  Enjoyed your time there?  ❞  

[draconichor]

THERE’S AN ADDENDUM, to the shipping section of my rules:

i am dualship , i will only ship with two characters ; one in my main verse, one in my aus. i will also only ship with dualship/singleship blogs, due to the fact that i do not want my muse to be treated as an accessory ( or rather, a part of your 'armada' ). SHE'S TAKEN IN HER MAIN VERSE.