“Humor’s what I do, baby,” His voice is like silk, a smooth retort, a slight suggestive tick of his brow as he adds, “–Among other things.” Yes, somewhere, sometime, one could list the many gifts Apollo Saxe possessed. But the more Vera spoke, the more it was appearing that she (surprisingly) wanted to know just what those talents were. A shock that Apollo’s animated features couldn’t help but portray, brows shooting up over the darkened rims of his sunglasses. Tongue darting out, he wets his lips, a bit of a sway to his body as he shifts once more. Closer, still. “If you wanna’ get close and personal – pretty thing, like you, all you’d have to say is Apollo, what’re you doin’ tonight?” His elbow leans against the bartop, “And I’d say – you wanna know what I’d say? I’d say–” he rubs at his beard before cracking a smile, something a bit mischievous glinting within it, “Wanna find out?”
(Somewhere between hypothetical and humor, there was an offer, one she could take if she took his words for what they were.)
“A shame,” is his solemn reply, head shaking as if her words were absolutely unacceptable to him, “You don’t have time to enjoy the entertainment because you don’t know how to give yourself that time. If you ask me–” No one asked him, but he takes a sip of absinthe that finally comes as he offers blunt opinion anyways. “You work too damn hard. Besides, if you’re up there…you’re not seeing the band in it’s full effect. And it’s somethin’ real special.” Then again, perhaps you could manage me a private show sometime? “If I’m not mistaken, Miss Estelle, you seem to want a private show right now.” He pauses, something salacious cracking through the seriousness, “You might just be lucky. I have time today.”
She’s surprised how smooth he manages to be, even in his current state, to the point where it brings a smile to her face. It’s a quiet, reserved smile that leaves much to be desired, but it’s a smile no less. That very smile, however, widens as she notes the shock written over his face as he leans closer, his shock almost instantaneously morphing into something just a little more devious. ‘Wanna find out?’ he asks, and she knows their talking in more than just abstract terms...after all, she’s always been able to read between the lines. She’s about the respond as he continues, noting how little time she seems to have for herself, something she can’t bring herself to out-rightly disagree with.
She laughs a bitter laugh at the stray observation, a sigh escaping her throat with a heavy shrug to match. “It comes with the territory,” she responds ambivalently, before frowning ever-so-slightly, “time for entertainment is a luxury I cannot yet afford, Mr. Saxe, but I promise you one day I’ll have it. One day I’ll have it all and every early morning, every late night, every sacrifice will all be worth it,” she declares with a confidence she ought to be wary of, her resolve as unshakable as ever. In many ways, she has to believe her each and every dream will come true, that she’ll make something of her passion, for if she stops believing, she’s bound to realize there’s nothing left but the pretty shell of an empty girl. Tossing a look over in her shoulder in the direction of the stairs leading up to her workroom before returning her attention back to Apollo, she pauses as if to think, “But, I suppose, if tonight’s going to be my lucky night, then perhaps I can make a little time today...after all, don’t we all need a taste of the great things we can have now, every one in a while?”
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