#danielgreengrass

[reluctantlyparkinson]

★

I D I O T. Daniel is, in Gisèle's eyes at least, a necessary evil and her feelings about him are very ambivalent. He is a Greengrass, charming and positively gorgeous to look at, for one. To boot, he is also a great kisser and the kind of person she loves just because she knows he is as unattached and willing to fuck as she is.

On the other hand, he is also arrogant and annoyingly full of himself. It gets on her nerves sometimes despite their occasional sense of easy camaraderie. The fact that he is betrothed to Clarabel also raises an irrational protective streak against him in Gisèle because even though she enjoys his company every so often and realizes that  t e c h n i c a l l y  it's a good match, she isn't so sure he would be good for her much softer cousin, not when he has a side that makes him worthy of Skull & Bones.

[firstbornworstborn]

Rolling his own cigarettes is a habit James has gotten into recently― it's not a matter of preference, necessarily, but a matter of convenience. Papers and loose tobacco are much easier to sneak around than packs, even if they take more time to prepare. In a way, he doesn't mind it; it's more time to think, and that's something quite precious nowadays.

The top of the North Tower isn't somewhere you're likely to be interrupted, and yet he suddenly hears a noise to his right. Looking up from his spliff (because yes, he's allowed to mix it up a little tonight), he sees a figure at the top of the stairs.

"Um― hello?"

[ahnkane-blog]

"You’re so naive."

"I don’t see anything wrong with naïveté." Although it was a smile painted upon the canvas of his face, it was only the result of thinly veiled anger that was threatening to gush out; bidding its time. He gradually relaxed his clenched fist behind his desk, but the tension in the air was still palpable. It coiled tightly inside of him. ”It’s not hurting anybody. Unless you have some delicate sensibilities.”

There was nothing wrong with wanting equal rights for all. At the thought of it, he frowned, an underlying sadness underneath it.