Lotte had had faith in Alastor, whatever that narrowing of his dark eyes and equally dark chuckle might have suggested. Faith in herself, ultimately, but she'd believed in him all the same, and she didn't regret it - even under his sharp scrutiny. Her eyes met his straight on, chin tipped up. Alastor could think what he liked.
They'd bet on each other and won.
"To us." She threw back the whiskey in one, smooth motion and swallowed it down, reveled in the burn at her throat. Their deal had been made already, but it still felt like the sealing of something - some promise yet unknown to her. Unfettered wildness certainly sounded like something meant more for him than for her, but with little idea of what awaited her in New Orleans she'd couldn't rightly say what her future held.
It did occur to her to wonder if Alastor untethered might be too much to handle, but Lotte reasoned that she had no real reason to handle him either. Didn't have much convincing evidence that she actually could if he really tried to do as he pleased.
Once he had his feet under him fully, again, which at present he really did not.
Even standing like this now, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, the sluggishness of his body compared to the quick pops of movement he normally displayed. It wasn't this assumed form entirely, but the toll the night had taken on him.
Lotte set her glass down, forced herself to part with the red dress as she draped it delicately over the back of the chair and then turned back to Alastor, hands on her hips.
"Now, I'll make sure I'm all packed up and ready to go by morning. In the meantime, you ought to be getting some rest. Whiskey's not a substitute for sleep, you know."
She made her way back over to him and grabbed the cork, popping it back in the bottle pointedly before looking back up at him. This version of Alastor wasn't quite as tall as the real thing, didn't loom over her the same way but still, she had to tip her chin up a good deal to meet his gaze this close.
no subject
Lotte had had faith in Alastor, whatever that narrowing of his dark eyes and equally dark chuckle might have suggested. Faith in herself, ultimately, but she'd believed in him all the same, and she didn't regret it - even under his sharp scrutiny. Her eyes met his straight on, chin tipped up. Alastor could think what he liked.
They'd bet on each other and won.
"To us." She threw back the whiskey in one, smooth motion and swallowed it down, reveled in the burn at her throat. Their deal had been made already, but it still felt like the sealing of something - some promise yet unknown to her. Unfettered wildness certainly sounded like something meant more for him than for her, but with little idea of what awaited her in New Orleans she'd couldn't rightly say what her future held.
It did occur to her to wonder if Alastor untethered might be too much to handle, but Lotte reasoned that she had no real reason to handle him either. Didn't have much convincing evidence that she actually could if he really tried to do as he pleased.
Once he had his feet under him fully, again, which at present he really did not.
Even standing like this now, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, the sluggishness of his body compared to the quick pops of movement he normally displayed. It wasn't this assumed form entirely, but the toll the night had taken on him.
Lotte set her glass down, forced herself to part with the red dress as she draped it delicately over the back of the chair and then turned back to Alastor, hands on her hips.
"Now, I'll make sure I'm all packed up and ready to go by morning. In the meantime, you ought to be getting some rest. Whiskey's not a substitute for sleep, you know."
She made her way back over to him and grabbed the cork, popping it back in the bottle pointedly before looking back up at him. This version of Alastor wasn't quite as tall as the real thing, didn't loom over her the same way but still, she had to tip her chin up a good deal to meet his gaze this close.
"Go on, back into that bed with you."