Nose wrinkles at the THOUGHT of having a glass bottle thrown at him while on stage.
Of course, should that EVER happen to Zeppelin, Grant would surely have something
to say or DO about it, most likely beating the perpetrator into submission. “ Your
c o n c e r n for my safety is touching ” he looks over to her with raised brows, his
accent steeped in sarcasm before adding with a laugh “ Christ, if that doesn’ sound
JUST like my manager ” With a shake of his head, he wraps long fingers around the
amber-filled glass, holding back taking another drink. Instead, gaze is brought back
up, flickering between the striking contrast of blue eyes, and ruby lips “ Oh are you? ”
Words were sweet, and rich with genuine interest as he looked over at her, chin
resting in his open palm, and index finger tapping tentatively at his own skin. His lips
curled “ I could… ” his response just as smooth as his last “ …if I wanted one.” green
orbs do not falter from the blonde’s gaze “ ‘n I’m not so s u r e I do ”
Eyes finally fall as the cigarette is slipped between red lips, aching for one himself,
though he doesn’t ask. His carton from earlier has long since been disposed of. He
instead bring drink to mouth, letting the smooth, burning liquid slide down his tongue,
distracting his sensing from wanting something ELSE on his lips. “ –––––No, I don’
think they would ” he eventually responded, rolling the now empty glass between his
fingers, and thumb as he smiled absently to himself “ Why is it, love, that you thought
I w o u l d ? Cos it’s always so like us rockers to ‘ave some chick waitin’ for us in
b e d? QUITE a stereotype, that is ” he chuckles to himself, GUILTY of falling right
into it MOST of the time “ And surely you’ve gotta ‘ave some bloke waitin’ for you,
r i g h t ? Dunno how you couldn’t ”
long delicate fingers flick burning embers into some a s h t r a y as a delicate
eyebrow cocks slightly at the end of his words. YES he’s used these words
before. THOUGH she of course, falls into that cliche of being F L A T T E R E D.
fingers hold out cigarette to the dark haired guitarist. “hmm i COULD have a
guy waitin’ for me if i wanted one…” taking a GENEROUS sip from the glass
of whiskey in front of her as her hair becomes even WHITER as the light from
the bar shifts. ALMOST giving her a etherial l i g h t to her being. “but…i find most
guys bore me” shoulders lift slightly, “O R they want me to sit and play wife for
them…don’t really like the way i go on stage OR dress–” rolling those BRIGHT
blue eyes of hers, “in the end they’re NOT worth my time”
as she watches him he’s DEVASTATINGLY pretty…YES she could very well
find herself falling HEAD over H E E L S for him. THOUGH they’re alike aren’t
they? won’t let ANYONE get in their way–plus she can TELL he has an ITCH
like she does for some…RECREATIONAL substances. “i suppose i very much
see you in some LAVISH hotel with a model at your side” flashing those whites
at him as she leans head upon hand, “DON’T tell me you don’t have a model
stashed away in hollywood for your own… PLEASURE” tone teasing as she then
goes to take ANOTHER LONG sip from whiskey. “so how long you in town…do
i get a bit more time with you then?”
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