El rolled out of bed and not bothering himself with any pants he stood by the open window lighting a cigarette. “I can get an invitation to the charity ball next week.” He knew Millie was at least as ambitious as he was. But that meant they understood each other perfectly. No strings attached except for where they could be useful to one another. “I could search for someone more attractive but in a few days time it can be tight. So will you go with me, fair lady?” Barely interested in her answer he tilted to exhale the smoke outside of the room.
STARTER for @geakwrites‘ emilie
muse: henry ii | verse: pre-reign
Life in Normandy had settled down somewhat. After his trip to England that had nearly ended in disaster, he was a bit relieved to be back home and not rotting in one of Stephen’s dungeons. It seemed that during his absence, his mother had accepted new court entertainers and a handful of courtesans. Henry had yet to meet them, and he wasn’t exactly dressed like a royal as he exited the stables. His horse had needed to be attended to, so the stench added to his messy appearance. A group of the courtesans were gathered by the main entrance, along with a few entertainers. One of them had spotted him and, thinking him a servant, rudely told him that he was using the wrong doorway.
Henry had turned around to confront the jester ( ironically, the man was dressed like one ) when he accidentally collided with someone behind him. He managed to catch them -- her -- before she went tumbling down the steps. Unlike the other courtesans, she had a light, but tantalizing perfume, and his hold on her tightened a little as he helped her to her feet. “---are you alright, my lady?”
His tone, when he spoke, was harsh. Charles wanted to restrain his following words but they poured out of him with pure anger.
"----Oh, yes-after I'd expended so much effort keeping you safe all these years, safe even from me, I was suddenly going to stand by and let you be gored by some mangy bull." He drew in a slow, shallow breath, lips thin with pain, but determined, went on, "You think I'd let you get injured when finally after all these long years I, at last, understand that the reason you've always made me itch is because you are the only woman I actually want to marry? And you think I would stand back and let you be harmed?"
❛❛Yes. I’m pretty sure it stopped raining. You’re welcome, by the way.❜❜ Manuel squeezed next to her under the shelter, feeling cold raindropsrunning past his collar and down his back. He took the umbrella from her to put it down after the hurry. It was just as soaked as his jacket from the heavy downpour that surprised them. Great. He side-glanced at the woman with mild reproach and shook his head subtly, reminding himself that it wasn’t her fault. But she still could’ve proposed to him to get under the umbrella with her instead of darting off before he navigated her into the right direction. He’d just keep his hands on the umbrella for later, then.
“are you?” it was his turn to be surprised. already out of bed and in search of his garments, a heap on the cold floor among hers, cesare didn’t quite smile - nor did he frown. “were you expecting differently when you vied for my bed last night?” although not entirely devoid of charms or wit, her company pleasant enough to brighten an evening of formalities under cover of festivities, it was mildred who caught his eye and piqued his interest. it had been quite clear that she was only seeking his favours out of a fierce desire to win though whether it was out of spite for her sister or out of boredom, he couldn’t decide. neither, perhaps. whatever the case, cesare had enjoyed the reasons behind her behaviour to the point of making his own views plain.
“will she resent you?” he asked as he found the bed again and perched himself on its edge. “i would be loathe to be the cause of some quarrel between two sisters.” oh but he was teasing, the care he feigned written all over his face.
Matt managed to pull the man away from Millie, their walk around the streets cut short because someone pulled her to the side and threatened her while Matt’s back was turned. He punched the man a few times in the face and as he went for a third Matt was distracted by the sight of blood in front of Millie’s dress.
He grabbed the man by the neck and slammed him against the wall and as soon as his back struck it Matt’s forearm went to the man’s throat and he pressed hard. He refused to let up until he went limp and Matt let him slid to the ground. He checked his pulse to make sure he was alive because there was no way in fucking hell he was letting this piece of shit escape.
Matt hurried to Millie now and wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand hovered over the spreading blood spot and it was clear she’d been stabbed from the long, soaked slash in the front of her dress. “Shit...” he said as he went to help sit her down on the ground, knowing if this was any other situation she’d chew him out for even suggesting she dirty whatever expensive dress she wore.
He went to his knees and contacted the authorities, using a calm voice as he learned it was easier to get the point across if you kept your composure. But fuck, he was freaking out inside. While he spoke he removed his shirt and pressed it against her side, and as soon as he applied pressure to it his arm returned around her body. “Help is on the way,” he said, kissing her temple. He hoped she didn’t pick up the tremble in his voice or the way his hand shook that held his shirt against the stab wound. “They’ll be here soon. I’ll be right there. I’m not going anywhere.” He said into her ear, hating how he couldn’t do anything more without proper equipment.
Matt kept turning his head around to see if the tell tale lights of an ambulance, hell even the sound of one, was nearby and after holding her and promising she’ll be okay he finally heard it in the distance and Matt relaxed.
He does not expect someone out at the gardens at night. It was usually the only time that it was guaranteed to be without anyone roaming about. It meant that he could have some time along, in peace. Though, on occasion there were lovers who snuck out... He had headed to a particular plot of flowers deep in the garden, turning the corner and find a young woman all by herself. It was too late to simply step back, for her gaze met his. “My lady, it is dangerous for you to be out alone.”
💙: how would my muse handle seeing their object of affection falling in love with someone else?
{Honestly?
That would be one of the most painful situations that Tristan could find himself in. Especially if it were a situation where the person he loved simply drifted apart from him.
Romance is something that motivates Tristan. He aspires towards falling in love of truly believes in each respective verse he has that there is someone who is “meant” to be with him. Falling in love is one of the most intense feelings he experiences- he does not simply float from a crush into something more. He catapults. He sinks ten levels down and gets so deeply rooted to the other person that he can’t stop himself from thinking about them or centering thoughts and plans for the future around them.
SO- if he were to find himself watching that person fall in love with somebody else it was almost like a slow death for Tristan. Pride; and respect for the other party wouldn’t let him intervene after awhile. He’s willing to compete if he still feels like he has a horse in the race. But if it reached a point where it’s obvious they’ve moved on he would likely find some excuse to create distance just to save himself some of the unhappiness.
That being said: it would take a long time for his feelings to fade. There is a chance that he could still have some semblance of romantic attraction towards them even many years later. Which would affect how Tristan attempts to move on from that relationship and may even hinder his actions as he would still have a bias towards that person and could be swayed to side with them on important choices.}
