‘ouch,’ he thought bitterly to himself. when in comparison to his rivaling, buddy relationship with the belmonte and carstairs heirs, he holds them in the same regards as vivienne. a means to an end. connections within the church was crucial from a wytch with no standing. days spent in vast amounts of libraries throughout both deadwood and neighboring cities weren’t enough for the leaders and professors. they looked at him, trim lines for lips and eyes that flooded into his soul like an abyss, “you’re an exemplary student and a certain apprentice in the making. the only concern we have is that you do not have the resources to abstain such a life.” so when lucius asked for him to tag along randomly; or when vivienne batted her long lashes at his direction, valentino clung to them like a moth to a flame.
“you’re more than welcome to knock on their doors. jason’s two doors to the left and lucius’ pompous ass can be found in the one master bedroom in this house.” his reply was drawn-out, a indication vivienne’s words grated his ego enough for him to retort. he had unconsciously gone to a defensive mode, bearing a clenched jaw and a pointed look in the redhead’s direction. the two’s history has formed a ruthless banter they themselves aren’t aware of. how could? if they weren’t under the covers, the two never quite reached common ground. her laugh, as soft as it sounded, rang warning bells in his mind for reasons beyond him. vivienne had that effect on him. he was both enchanted and daunted by the winthrop wytch. he had thought to push a few of her buttons in return, berate her on the fact she entered a rocky standing within the church. instead, the topic of the high priest stroked his interest.he clicked his tongue, debating on the right choice of words. “if our excellency welcomes the idea the two of you frolicking with weak blooded wytches… who am i to question, right?”
at the idea of him opposing the church, he only scoffed, albeit more to himself than to vivienne. never had he thought to see a life without the church, without it’s timely system, and rigid standings. how could he when he lived comfortably without the extra labor. “alright, alright, i get it,” he didn’t care to witness and endure one of vivienne’s lecture. before he could calm her down himself, she had already settled into her mood swing and was knelt before him. lips met, the passive man was an easy prey for he had already forgotten about their debacle. “we’re more than good,” as she began to get up from the bed so did he, lifting his hand to slap her bottom. an open-hand smacked with a lot more force than he intended. he leisurely gathered his slack and loose white shirt - no brand, nothing shiny, possibly an artifact from his high school days. he didn’t splurge on himself, keeping his attire fairly mundane. “let’s go for a drive.”
Vivienne huffed, her lower lip jutting out. She was less than thrilled to have Valentino offer his fraternity brother’s beds to her. As far as she was concerned, he should be kneeling at her feet, not making snide comments. But back-handed quips were the backbone of their non-relationship. “I was under the impression that I wasn’t Jason’s type. And frankly, I’m always a little surprised when there’s someone Lucius likes enough to fuck other than himself,” she shrugged. Vivienne was tempted to make a snide comment about slumming it with him, but she knew that would get her nowhere. Still, she felt an overwhelming amount of sanctimony as she looked at Valentino. He was an accessory. And if an accessory isn’t going to come with the glitz and smug satisfaction of something designer, it should at least be practical.
Her eyes rolled backwards behind her lashes. “For Hell’s sake, Valentino. ‘Who are you to question?’ I can ask the next time my parents host a dinner party for the Blood Court. Or we can move on, because frankly, this is boring me.” She smiled at him, the irritation disappearing from behind her clear blue hues until she looked almost angelic. That was a skill the twins had-looking sweet and saintly despite their wickedness and where their souls were kept. And then their spat was over, not with an apology, for that would never come, but a vow to cease their quarreling that had been sealed with a kiss. Feeling a stinging on her behind, Vivienne whipped her head around to stare at Valentino, a giggle escaping from her lips. “You’ve got some nerve, Lennox,” she said, impressed. She’d kill a man for less. “I’d hex you into next week if I wasn’t in such a forgiving mood.” Or perhaps if she wasn’t trying to squeeze him for information. “A drive sounds good,” she nodded, slipping her shoes on, grabbing his hand, and stepping through the door.
As they walked down the hallway, Vivienne’s eyes flickered back and forth in their periphery as she did her best to spy without being seen. The fraternity house was beautiful, a confluence between architecture and magic that Vivienne had nothing but respect for. The hall was filled with ornate crown moldings and priceless art, but Vivienne suspected it was all a veneer of respectability, covering something that was tawdry at best. They passed a door that was ajar, and through the slim opening she could see a boy. Not one she recognized, a pledge maybe, muttering an incantation while a key danced above his head. Levitation charms couldn’t be the best that Gamma Nu Alpha had to offer. That was child’s play. She couldn’t help but wonder what was behind all those closed doors. “You guys haven’t thrown a party in a while. At least not one with Phi Phi, and therefor not a good one,” Vivienne smirked. “We could all use a good, old-fashioned bacchanalia, don’t you think?” She took a few steps down the stairs, turning back to face Valentino. “Or at least a night of drinking absinthe and watching freshman empty the contents of their stomachs on your carpet.”
