never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to, not that he was quite expecting her to lie as much as stretch the truth. the women he had encountered in New York thus far often attempted to put up the front that they didn’t need a man - that they were independent and self-sufficient. now - a woman who actually knew what she was doing was even better. and besides if his wife looked good in her brand then he couldn’t even imagine how Rosalie looked.
”and i’m guessing you don’t do private shows?”
he laughed softly, his bright blue eyes sparkling in amusement. taking another drink, Jim glanced over to see his friend - Leonard - already passed out on the couch with beer dribbling down his chin. pleasant as always…
’ Not particularly– ’ —-A smirk written upon her face. For she knew exactly what he wanted, just from that statement… It wasn’t like she minded all that much. It was a beauty of self confidence, and while she knew some disconcerting information about him and his ‘status’ it seemed she hardly cared. Call her a wench, she had always been a little self involved and who said self indulgence was a bad thing.
☢T.D.— Tall pumps to make her almost near his height. The streets smelled of smoke and over-used perfume, Prostitutes stood in corners near the apartment. The scent stuck to his clothes, Oculars made of glass watched her.
“Thank you.”
It felt like a compliment. Dead-beat men lying in allies picking up prostitutes or passed out, It seemed Tyler was far from them.
Wasn’t that perfect, Tyler was a gentlemen..I think.
”This your place?” Cramped apartment.
’ Unfortunately—- ’ —-Yet, her legs kicked the pebbles the littered the ground and she didn’t look at him. Not yet. ’ School loans and a shitty desk job don’t really make it easy to afford a better apartment in a better neighborhood. I make do. ’ —-And suddenly her heartbeat picks back up, of course nothing like the heart attack she was having earlier. It was more steady, exhilarating almost. And then she remembers something, and with a pen she’d pulled from her back she scrawled upon it a handful of numbers. ’ In case you’re looking for damsals in distress, superman. I got you covered. ’
☢T.D.— Those glassy oculars looked right into that broken soul of his. Maybe she reminded him of Marla Singer, The tall pumps, The porcelain like skin and her depressed tone.
”More than often..” Maybe he owned a underground boxing club. Yeah he went there a lot, And watched people get half murdered in there, Their fresh blood staining the warm cement. The smell of sweat of a fight from the night before.
—-A soft hum echoes through the midnight streets, as if to reply to his statement. Yet, despite the bells alarming in her inner most subconscious, she continued to still. Judging a book by its placement was almost like judging it by its cover. He’d already proven that the metaphor on its own was but a joke. Besides, she lived just up the road, where most women were either prostitutes or drug addicts. She happened to be neither.
’ And yet– You aren’t like them. ’ —-Of course she meant those men from earlier, of course, not all men that decided to hangout in grubby bars were scum themselves.
”————- 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. ’
❝well i was certainly quite lucky to meet you, sweetheart.❞
Jim flashes a quick, charming smile before reaching over to grab two drinks off a passing man’s tray. passing one to her, he just barely allows their fingers to touch. best to fee her small bits and pieces until he had her practically begging for it. that was the best way to have them - at their knees - looking pretty.
❝want one? you don’t look nearly drunk enough.❞
’ Is that so, Mr. Kirk? Well, it’s not everyday that a girl like me gets to meet someone so well liked. ’
—-A quick flip of her hair and soon enough the drink was in her hand. Fingers touching only for a moment, yet it sent an electric shock up her arms and with a smile brown oculi gazed at him with a curious stare. Oh he was good. Too good.
’ Trying to get me drunk huh? A gentleman too I see. ’
☢T.D.— Superman, What a nickname maybe he can get his own movie.
”Thanks for the new nickname.” That blow of smoke.
A head aims towards her apartment, And beige oculars look back at her. She lived so close, Near this shitty bar and this shitty neighborhood maybe it was bad to feel sorry for how close she was.
“Sure..”
—-She laughs, putting the cig out in the cool cement and standing on her onyx pumps. Rose pushed off the wall moving to walk towards the building that housed her and many others, yet she turned, arms crossed behind her back and luminescent pools gazed at him. Surely, she was going insane, not that she really cared.
’ Thanks—- I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you go to that place often? ’ She motions to it as though it’s nothing but the most awful place ever. Of course her judgement was a bit biased anymore.
A short laugh, More like agreeing to what she was saying kind of laugh.
“Luckily, I came to save the day.” Everyone who stood in the parking lot was already gone or passed out on the street. Just the two of them, drowned in the scent of nicotine.
”You live in this neighborhood?”
—-She laughed then, a true genuine one that lifted her mouth to her eyes and made the brown sparkle in an unrivaling radiance. ’ This is true. I should call you superman or something. ’ Thankfully the men that had surrounded her earlier had all but disappeared into the city night. Made her feel more at ease. Though she was hardly in the clear and she was reminded of that when he asked her where she lived.
’ Yeah—- Up the street a little ways. Hey um– I know it’s probably a little odd to ask but I’d feel a lot better if superman could possibly accompany me h o m e. ’
☢T.D.— That stinging sensation of the smoke that entered the already burnt lungs made him feel at ease. Hues of a dark beige watched the woman kill her lungs with the nicotine. For some reason, The feeling of protecting her it seemed she felt safe around someone like him.
Tyler Durden, Insanity transformed into a human form.
”You look grateful.” That sound of a sick desperation in his laugh made him break a smile only to say,
“Got some sort sick desperation in your laugh?” A rhetorical question.
’ –I could look a lot worse. ’ —-Of course she was mentioning the fact that had he not come she’d probably had been battered and broken ten times over. A thought she shook from her mind immediately. Avoiding the statement he had finished with. Desperation, she snorted. But then again, she was sitting on the sidewalk in the cold, a cigarette to her lips and a man she barely knew standing close by.
☢T.D.— Tyler watched the porcelain frame smoke that killing cigarette. A small smirk on that visage of his as she spoke those words.
“Tyler Durden.” Being called a rescuer made him feel needed at least for once.
—-The burn in her lungs almost felt like freedom. It made her feel alive, considering pain always meant you were still pumping blood through your system. Which in her case right now was a blessing. And even though her legs were freezing and that tiny little pea coat was doing nothing to warm her up, she thought she could just sit there for an hour. As long as he was nearby, at least. Otherwise she probably would have pushed through the numbness in her body and booked it to her apartment down the road.
’ Well, Tyler. You cannot imagine how grateful I am to have met you. ’
—-And she laughs then. Perhaps slightly forced, but a laugh no less. For he hardly seemed the type of guy that anyone would grateful in meeting, what with his bruised and bloodied hands and a bravado that spoke of something darker than what was on the surface. Nonetheless, she shined a nonchalant smile for him as she corrupted her lungs with the nicotine.
☢T.D.— That face now covered in smeared makeup showed her expression that the men left on her. After the delicate frame stood up, Tyler did the same holding out his pack of cigarettes to her. Those beige oculars eyed her closely, Taking out a tissue from his pocket to be honest he forgot why he had that. Fingers covered in blood held out the tissue, a simper on his aspect.
”What’s your name?”
’ Thanks– Again. ’
—-Lighting the smoke she took his tissue with a graceful flick of her wrist. Whispering yet another thank you, as she cleaned herself up as best she could. Yet, her long legs felt like jello underneath her body and once again she decided to sit, to collect herself. Blonde head resting against the brick, this time without tears, and this time she was a calmer.
’ Rosalie– Rosalie Hale. And the name of my rescuer? ’
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