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iirishrose & @underestimatcd

Table service was most definitely not a thing at O’Reilly’s, but the woman looked so far out of place that Harry couldn’t help but find herself curious…something inside her head wanted to save the brunette from having the leering gazes of the plastered regulars too. “I’ll gan an’ get ya one. Want me ta open a tab too? Ye seem trust worthy.” she grinned, turning on her heel to get the wine. Her eyes glanced across the pub before they landed on Rosie. She hadn’t been expecting her tonight; she wasn’t there a lot considering they had a little ‘un and their time could be quite limited considering the weird hours Harry kept. She made her way over, momentarily forgetting the glass of wine she needed to get, “What a nice surprise pet, ye look gorgeous.” she looked her up and down, nibbling her lip. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She turned to signal Rob, catching his attention before she pointed at the top shelf where the red was kept.

Roisin wasn’t jealous. No but really, she wasn’t. You could say it was just the shock of seeing her partner being so— open with herself. The pair had been around each other long enough that Rose knew the difference of when the redhead was keeping up with the facade of being a lust-worthy bartender and actually giving a damn about who she was propositioning. Because the latter, had always been aimed at her. Never, in the vicinity of the bar of course — their ‘partnership’ was laced with mystery and secret romps in apartment above said bar. It was their dirty little secret — each other. It was all down to Harriet’s job — to be a good bar-hand, you needed to be sought after, you could go anywhere for a drink but more often than not, the regular kept coming back to this place just to see if any were worthy of being in the redhead’s list of lovers. The answer was no. And that’s what made the chase so worthwhile.

But of course, non of the punters ever knew of the reason of why Harry never seemed to move beyond being a tease. It was because of them. Their love. Harriet and Roisin were partners in more ways than one. At first it made Rose’s heart stutter; keeping their love a secret but after eight long years, the two women had fallen into a rather comfortable routine of secret meetings and practised facades out in public, that in the end, Rose seemed to almost enjoy it. And besides, their daughtermade it easier for Rose to keep the distasteful thoughts of what the bar held, far out of her head, she simply didn’t have enough time to worry about it. Not that she ever did need to, Harry made it so self-evident of what she felt for her just by coming back home night-after-night.

So, seeing the redhead be so open (well, to Rose) with her sexuality made Rose start to question the ‘rules’. Was Harry afraid of what the outcome could be if her customers found out she was in a gay relationship— or did she just adore the luxury of being seen as single? Before the question fully settled itself within her head, the blonde saw a shift in the corner of her eye. Before she knew what was happening, Harry was in front of Rose, being completely — Harry. The blonde gave a small smile, her gaze somewhat distant as they find the bar, as her favourite barmaid silently brought over dry Martini — her usual before fluttering away to further tend the bar. Wordlessly, she picks up the drink and shrugs. A long sip later, Rose finally gives her partner a genuine smile, the ego stroke worked and the florist was back to feeling like number one. She tilts her head and allows her free hand to glide down the side of her dress. “Just passing through — thought I’d come check in on my favourite bartender.”

A tab, a tab. What was a tab, again? Something to do with the bill, she imagined. Geneviève nodded, curls cascading over a shoulder. “Peu Yes, thank you.” At very least, this place was very welcoming even if it wasn’t home. She was not a frequent drinker, nor one that had ever seemed to manage as much as her companions. Her husband ex husband had been a very social drinker, yet that had never caught on to the smaller woman. After a few glasses of wine, she turned into a giggling mess of a woman who lost all professionalism. For now, she was sober and tucked into the leather seating, observing the others around the bar. She looked to the redheaded woman that had come to her aid , and the many that lined the space around her. A glance over a blonde woman was had for mere seconds before she focused elsewhere.

It wasn’t polite to star at a patron, and she was eager to immerse herself in her reading. New material from her field was in constant production, and she could not resist keeping up with the times. A hand reached into her purse, pulling the papers from it and setting them on the table to begin perusing.

#iirishrose #underestimatcd #░▒▓ v: ménage à trois.

violentdelvghts

peripateticiennes

@iirishrose @underestimatcd

#░▒▓ d'abord; ne pas nuire.#fuck my life

iirishrose

underestimatcd

The drunks had gathered around the dart board in the corner, leaving the rest of the place open and a little quieter. Perfect really, Harry thought as she enjoyed the calm-ish atmosphere. It was relatively early; still plenty of time for shit to hit the fan though. Harry downed herself a shot, of caffeine, that was and glanced around, checking for problems. Her eyes fell upon brunette, who stood out in the crowd, looked so far out of her depth. She was intrigued. “Rob, cover the bar,” she stated, leaving no room for argument before she made her way over. “Can I get you something to drink love?”

It was not an usual occurrence for Roisin to turn up unannounced to the bar; Harriet’s bar…their bar. Her name may not be on the door, nor on any legal documents but the pair both knew that this building, this life had been kickstarted thanks to where Rose had came from. So here she was, Harry’s silent partner in more ways that one, floating into the bar, blue eyes lightly scanning the crowd. For a moment she doesn’t see the redhead, her dropping for a moment, her heels clicking against the slabs underneath her feet as she strode in further, her demeanour switching from confidently content to suddenly lost. She was never a club-goer, nor could hold her liquor well, so being here, despite spending the majority of year refurbishing the place, she felt out of place. Besides looking just that, it wasn’t her exterior that made Roisin uneasy, sure she did look completely too done-up to be in such a rowdy crowd. But it was a difference from deep within that made the blonde want to cower behind the bar until there were no more eyes that could find her.

Whilst she inwardly considers just doing just that, her shaky eyes catch the usual sight of the redhead and Rose allows her hands retract from their harsh grip on her purse. She swallows. Hard. And just before she decides to stride forward, her eyes soon linger to the figure that she was currently interacting with. She squints, not menacingly so but with the utmost curiosity more often than not, she had witnessed Harry flirting with many of customers, which she knew was just down to her job occupation and not about any sort of actual attraction and it never really developed further than minimal contact and whispered promises before they were handed off to a rather begrudge taxi driver. As she watched the pair casually interact, as innocent as it were, it managed to make Rose’s palms all sweaty. But the trigger that caused Roisin’s heart to skip a beat was the fact, that this most certainly not a man. And that was most definitely not a usual occurrence.

Her surroundings were odd, not like the bustling streets of Lyon. America was newer, the architecture more daring and completely unfamiliar. Despite all of that, Geneviève took comfort in a fresh start in a new country, even when it had taken her away from her patients. There were many children all over the world who needed a physician with as much experience as she had obtained over the past decade of practice. Her nerves had affected her so, driving her to find a place that she could indulge her home was not stocked. A moment passed until she was greeted, shifting to look up at the woman in front of her. “Ah yes.” Cheerful, yet nervous in her own right. “Red wine would be quite nice, thank you.”

#underestimatcd #iirishrose #░▒▓ v: ménage à trois.

@iirishrose @underestimatcd

A bar here, a bar there. On every corner, a bar. Benoît would have loved this place, it’s character the women, the men. Fortunately for her, the divorce had finalized the very day it was time to go. He had not tried to call her then, not yet at least. One week or two would pass and he would call, talking of promise. Geneviève, s'il vous plaît revenir à la maison. Je voudrai no, she would not go back. Her patients were here, a very nice house and two very nice fostered minous. Kittens, they were fed and waiting for her to come home. After one drink, she thought. Heels carried her into the loud environment and into a booth, standing out in her small dress and coat unlike the relaxed attire on others.

#iirishrose #underestimatcd #░▒▓ v: ménage à trois.