— - “Oh, but I am enough, right? Why don’t you find a place to stay for a bit? Not forever, but you could get away with a decade or two. Take a break from being on the run.”
’ Of course, Margaery. Why wouldn’t you be? And risk leaving you all by your lonesome? ‘fraid you may burn down a city without me near. ’
He feels like he owes her— not to mention he wants to understand why those amber eyes bother him as much as they do. It’s unnatural. They’re completely, utterly unnatural but he can’t help but comment on how alluring they are.
He almost wants to stare at them until the end of time— that’s his first clue to something amiss. Dean needs to know why this is happening, even if the reasons are muddied by a buzz.
—-She must have turned into an adrenaline junkie overnight. For a silent nod was all that was given, with the company of a smile of course. Who was she to decline his offer, it would look bad had she kept walking, had she done what her mind was telling her to. Of course, Rosalie never really listened to her mind did she. She hadn’t when she was human, it seemed a couple lifetimes hardly changed that fact. ’ If you’re sure you can keep up. who am I to decline a free d r i n k. ’ And perhaps she was just fool hardy. She’d come into a bar she barely knew, run down and beaten. Old blues playing on the jukebox. In over her head she was. But, perhaps she’d hoped to drown. At least she’d feel human.
”————- i try. really, i do. you should see me during happy hour.”
he sends a smirk her way as he leans up against the high countertop, letting the sharp marble digging into his biceps keep him grounded so he could keep the upper hand in this conversation.
“so… i’ve got to ask what do you do for a living?”
—-Thick blonde curls bounced when she rotated in her spot. For he’d shocked her, though she should hardly be surprised. Most men wanted to talk about themselves, flaunt their riches and good looks. Apparently to them being self-centered was attractive. Or they thought of her as some sleazy gold digging hooker. Which neither, of course, were true. For Rosalie could support herself just fine. However, a man with power, that was where she’d fallen flat. Rosalie Hale was a sucker for men who held a higher power and knew it. That was what she looked for. Perhaps it was her inner desires that led to such follies. Though, it ne'er mattered before. And soon enough she’d noticed she’d gotten off track. Her thoughts were nilly little things.
’ I design lingerie. You know, panties, bras, bustiers depends on the style—- However, modeling is what I live off of. ’
-❀-
