slender fingers roam through the blonde tresses of her maker’s hair as he remains perched upon his ‘throne’ overlooking the entire club. pam’s own gaze settles on the man approaching the stage, a single brow arching as the initial intrigue stings her curiosity even as he speaks to extend the invitation granted by his employer. she had to admit, the entire exchange had been a new form entirely in order to get her attention and she’d be damned if she stated that it didn’t work. on the contrary, her interest was surely peaked and even eric couldn’t help but provide a slight chuckle in response before glancing up towards his progeny.
an invitation for a drink to a vampire really only meant one thing, but not all humans recognized this fact before announcing it and so pam remained somewhat skeptical. but that didn’t stop her from wanting to oblige the invitation.
lowering herself just slightly, she allows for her lips to whisper in her maker’s ear, letting him know that she’d be right back - though they both knew all too well the possibilities of her words being nothing more than a lie. he nods, flicking his wrist as a symbol of dismissal before she kisses his temple and draws herself away from him. her eyes settled on the back of the woman’s head as her demeanor remains with her back facing the crowd, allowing for pam to place a single hand upon her spine in an almost feather-like touch while lips caress against the other’s ear.
❝ meet me on the couch in the corner. bring your glass. ❞
a single gaze towards chow silently tells him to procure the bottle of whatever it is she’s drinking and bring it to them. the corner of the room is dark, with only two other couples occupying the area though their lips are far too occupied with one another to even notice pam’s own appearance. chow, after he watches his own employer make her way past the bar, rolls his eyes and proceeds to pour the dark haired woman another drink before motioning with a slight tilt of his head in pam’s direction. ❝ luck clearly believes in you then. ❞
Margot kept to herself instead of looking out, certain of her approach. Mystery was as intriguing to her as it was to others, and though she had seldom interacted with the types of people who frequented the establishment, she suspected it would be the same. A hand at her back suddenly assured her of such, and the heiress refrained from tensing at the touch. Unlike the environment at home, she was free to act as she pleased without the fear of exploitation. A woman’s touch as opposed to a man’s was always preferable. Her head dipped at the offer, taking a moment before following to be certain that some preparation could be had.
It was in her nature to be late, yet not so that it would leave the other person disappointed. Her glance toward the barman was amused, perhaps, if he cared to look closely. At very least, Margot was prepared to expect some difficulty, as the employee evidently knew the woman she pursued well. She had no desire to question him as to why pride dictated that she could not inquire, and instead was prepared to tread water without.
Her time was taken, slow steps toward the corner where the blonde woman sat. The entourage paused without direction, used to keeping close but not near close enough to be an interruption. Each of the heiress’ fingers curled around the glass, as effortless as one instructed to handle everyday tasks with a certain degree of finesse. She refrained from taking a seat on the aforementioned couch next to the host, never one to take advantage of a boundary not clearly outlined. It was, after all, one of the most desired and the least offered allowances in Margot’s world. She intended to make certain of her approach without compromising comfort. “May I?”
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