@danidelione ✷ closed. location: The Blue Lotus, mid-day
It was kind of him to extend the invitation, a visit to the much-whispered-about Blue Lotus, but even kinder of him to join her for a moment of conversation upon seeing she had actually made good on her promise to visit.
Varnished fingernails of peacock green tapped a rhythm against the side of her teacup as she looked upon her company’s features, which were most interesting. Lusine had always prided herself on her ability to read others in an accurate manner, but with Daniel there were complications to her methods, of which she wondered had anything to do with the apparent fractures of his nose. How many times had it been broken in the past? Beyond her own experience of seeing a man have his nose broken in the brothel she called home as a young woman, she could not imagine what the pugilist’s nose had been through.
Still, like some Greek comedy, every fist thrown made him more handsome, it seemed. And even more like a Greek comedy, those punches had given him quite Roman features, the likes of which may have been seen on an old coin kept beneath glass in a museum.
She was staring again. Catching herself, her eyes fell to the oolong in her cup.
“The boxing makes sense,” she started, and placed the cup down to rest her chin in her hand. “But how does a man find himself the proprietor of an Oriental tea house in Paris? And an American man, no less...”
