vivicidal | open rp / overflow

[ The way she lights up is contagious, even when she tries to hide those pearly whites. Still as radiant as ever. ]

Sounds perfect, I look forward to seeing you in your element. [ His own bright smile quickly takes over his features as she lifts his hand, savoring for a moment in the press of her lips.

He's been wanting more time in one place, more time with Claire specifically, and now that he's here... well, he has to try and stay as long as he can. ]

This was a great idea, by the way. Haven't had red velvet pancakes in... far too long.

Yeah, I'm really glad you texted me. Even if it was meant for someone else.

[ And though the thought of him with another person does something weird to her stomach, Claire tries to not sound nor look jealous. Because he's supposed to be taboo, off-limits. Instead, she gives him a playful squinty eye while eating. ]

[ Peter would've - probably - choked on his pancakes if his mouth was full, instead he huffs out a slightly amused and embarrassed laugh-- possibly even bordering on nervousness. ]

For the record, I did plan to text you this morning.

[ There is a twinge of guilt... there's always a twinge of guilt when he finds himself with someone else. And yes, Claire is technically off-limits, but his feelings toward her had formed and flourished long before the truth came out.

But what can he do now? He can't act on them, can he? ]

Thought about shooting a text last night... but I crashed shortly after I got in.

[ She nods slowly but with exaggerated gusto. ]

Ohhhh, riiight, sure, sure. Mm, and what would you have said?

[ Fork is set aside as Claire goes all chin-hands on Peter, decidedly trying to not think about him texting her at night. Especially when last night was the one day during the week in which she relaxed in the bathtub. ]

[ Peter raises a quizzical brow, pausing mid-bite. ]

I mean, obviously, I would have asked what you were wearing.

[ It's meant to be a joke, but given their circumstances, totally inappropriate-- the words came out before he could really stop himself. ]

[ It manages to take her aback, and she's left flustered; lashes fluttering, laugh weak and breathy, fingers curling into fists against her face. There's a delay, but only because Claire's response is even more inappropriate. It's just going to stir that pot.

But fuck it. ]

My answer would have depended on the time of the text.

[ He should retract, he knows he should retract. Instead, he finds himself huffing a small laugh somewhat awkwardly to fill the silence in her delay. Better to laugh it off...

Her response then takes him by surprise and really, it shouldn't. The signs were there, beneath the surface, subtle. However, he convinced himself that he was misinterpreting, sensing only what he wanted to sense. His expression should read anything but intrigue.

Should. ]

Touché [ He's still misinterpreting, right? ]

[ When he doesn't press for further information, Claire struggles with not deflating and tries to hide it with cutting, eating, drinking. Because of course she shouldn't force Peter into asking what, exactly, she mean when she could have been referencing day clothes versus sleep clothes. ]

This, uh, this person you meant to text. How'd you meet?

[ False cheer is false, Claire's smile as sweet at the syrup. ]

[ The curiosity eats at him as he eyes her carefully from behind the rim of his coffee mug, occupying his mouth deliberately to refrain from asking the question he so desperately wants to ask.

--then he coughs, caught off-guard by her inquiry. Placing his cup down, he wipes idly wipes at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. ]

Bar of the hotel we were both staying at in Boston, sent breakfast to my room before leaving which was a little unorthodox, but who am I to complain?

[ What was meant to be a one-night thing became a little bit of a fling for the duration of their stay. It's difficult to form any real connections as of late, so he makes do. ]

[ Claire speaks very carefully, her nods rather slow as she concentrates on the food. This is a conversation she started of her own accord. This is okay. He's socializing, which is important. Peter is staying safe, seems happy enough, he's traveling (even if it's out of necessity. ]

Anything in particular in Boston?

[ He shakes his head as he places his cup back down, still watching, still wondering. Then returns to his own food, picking at a few things here and there. ]

Well, I mean there was potential, but it didn't turn out. Mainly just to keep moving.

[ And now, he can't bite his tongue any longer-- ] 10PM

[ It's out of the blue and she won't know what he means, right? How is he going to play that one off? ]

[ Yep, makes sense. Keep moving, always moving. It sucks. Like, a lot. ]

Ten- ?

[ Confused at first, the realization transforms her face through a kaleidoscope of emotions. ]

Oh! Oh. Oh. Um.

[ The blonde smoothes an eyebrow and then digs out a pen from her bag but comes up short for paper. So, she writes her answer on the inside of her hand, avoiding eye contact. ]

Bathtub

[ Confusion. That's good... but what comes next has him on edge. Realization. And he's running through ideas on why he would bring it up again while she rummages. He comes up blank.

He can only surmise what message she might be writing, and it's nowhere near what he reads. His mind takes a hard left, delving right back into inappropriate-- shit. He doesn't even recognize the sound that escapes his throat. ]

Wow--

[ Peter clamps a hand over his mouth, flustered and... maybe kinda sorta aroused by that visual. Though he doesn't speak it, it's quite clear in his gaze as he unintentionally glances at her chest. Is he regretting not texting her the night before? Most likely. ]

[ Her stomach flips, does that pleasant drop from arousal, and her eyes widen before falling into a half-hooded, fluttering look. She forgets to breathe beneath Peter's gaze, briefly touches the lacey patterned fabric stretched across her chest. Damnit. And then in a rush with flustered blinking, Claire takes in a shaky breath and doesn't pick up the utensils to eat again. ]

I'm just, I'm going to wash my hands, okay? I'll be right back.

[ As she's saying this, stumbling over the words, Claire is rising from her chair, ready to speedwalk to the restrooms. ]

[ He clears his throat, suddenly feeling dry and like he needs more than coffee to quench his thirst. He doesn't know if he should ask her to stay, but before he even realizes, he's nodding quickly. ]

Yeah, of course, I-- I'll be here.

[ And maybe he should run, get out before anything else is said or done, but he doesn't move a muscle. They could just forget any of this happened, move on and stay in their own lanes.

He shouldn't want what he wants... but he can't help it. ]

[ Without him protesting, Claire retreats with a barely noticeable moment's worth of hesitation. Once inside the bathroom, she sigh-groans and paces until the door opens. For just one second she thinks it must be Peter, only to be proven incorrect as a woman meanders into a stall. Claire rolls her eyes at herself and splashes some cold water onto her face. After she pats her skin dry, she stares at herself in the mirror and silently mouths 'get it together'. ]

[ Peter keeps his eyes on the abandoned plates before him for as long as he can... but there's a tug, a temptation, and he finds his gaze drifting toward the restroom sign.

He lets out a breath and glances around the room, waiting for his opportunity, the perfect split moment when everyone is distracted enough. And when that moment comes, he slips into the background, fading quickly from sight.

Another breath as he slides out and makes his way toward Claire. The door opens and closes - no physical sign of anyone else entering - then a quick sweep. She's not alone, and all he can do is wait and hope Claire doesn't leave before he's had a chance... but perhaps, she'll realize he's in the room, after all, she knows the extent of his power better than most. ]

[ It's as though there is a shift in the air, figuratively, literally, both, and it has Claire inhaling sharply and holding it. Maybe she's imaging it. Maybe this is just causing some sort of waking dream syndrome considering the things she fantasized about last night combined with today. She's casting a fruitless look around when the other lady finishes, and Claire pretends to be fussing over her hair, her outfit, until the restroom is only housing herself. Herself and ~~her~~ Peter. ]

I think that we should pay for our food. I think we should pay for our food and go somewhere more private to talk.

[ Peter steps up behind her, silent, still hidden from sight. ]

That's probably a good idea...

[ He murmurs, then trails off, gaze tracing the line of her neck. There's a voice in his mind somewhere, telling him how wrong this is, telling him to move on. It would be better for them both to seek out healthy relationships rather than continue dancing around each other like this. ]

[ It wasn't quite fair, and Claire was usually left angry or frustrated by their situation. Who let them develop a bond, who gave them chemistry strong enough to burst through the beaker, and then waited until the damage would be done with a 'By the way...'? Whenever it gets to that point, the blonde pretends. She slips back into the Before and doesn't stress about the legality, the danger.

Claire isn't quite sure where Peter is or when someone else may enter the restroom, so she gives only a swift tease by parting her jacket enough to brush her hands over the lacey, semi-transparent material stretched across her breasts. ]

[ A large part of him harbors regret for never having been bold enough to steal a kiss before things between them became complicated. Would it have been easier to let this go than it is now, he wonders. Who is he kidding, the answer is obvious.

Left with just a taste of bliss would have been his undoing.

The movement of the jacket is what catches his attention, glimpsing the tease through the mirror, and he steps even closer. Close enough to feel his presence, possibly even his breath. Peter doesn't say another word, instead, he lets his base urges take over for a moment, curling an arm around her. The moment his hand skims along just beneath her breasts, he pulls her into the unseen and leans down to press a soft kiss to the crook of her neck. ]

[ Her eyes flutter shut and she bites down hard enough onto her lower lip to leave an indent. Claire lays one arm over his while reaching back to drag her nails up Peter's thigh. Though it's a legit struggle to keep from ravishing him, to refrain from having him take her against the nearest wall, she does manage to find her voice. ]

I'm not having our first kiss in the restroom of an IHOP, though...

[ The drag of her nails ignites an electric sensation, prickling heat at his skin, pulling hot breath that ghosts against her neck. His fingers press in, pulling her closer. The struggle... absolutely mutual.

He chuckles a little breathlessly and nods in agreement. ]

Pay for our food, go somewhere more private. [ The end of that sentence was 'to talk' but he purposely leaves it out. It's still a possibility, but who knows. ] Give me a five-minute headstart.

[ With that, he slips his arm out from under hers and returns to their booth to pay and wait. ]

Five minutes. Right.

[ Even if the lack of Peter's presence, his heat, leaves a shock to her body. Totally doable.

Until Claire checks how long it's been, because surely it's been long enough?, only to see that barely a minute has since passed. She passes the time on Pinterest, glancing at Twitch, checking her looks again, and when it seems safe enough, the blonde at last exists both restroom and restaurant. She texts whilst walking to her orange Subaru. ]

Where?

[ He waits at the side of the building, leaning against the wall, flipping his phone in his hand, and watching the few people that come and go from the restaurant.

It's at the same moment that she sends the text when he notices her, he only glances at the message as he jogs up behind her. ]

Arlo.

open rp / overflow

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)