steeped in sumac ; cop & wilder blitz
Jul 21, 2024 0:06:39 GMT -5
Post by maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte] on Jul 21, 2024 0:06:39 GMT -5
w i l d e r .
"does it ever get lonely
up there on the wall
to be looked at
but never to hold"
The poison is sweet tonight. Subtle enough that Wilder only catches it in between cocktails, where it settles in scars their buzz cannot reach. It's bad, but not the worst, and that in itself is worth celebrating. He can't remember the last time he could watch a sunset without feeling nauseous.
It was a mandatory appearance at a wrap-up party; he's been floating from table to table and spewing his practiced, pretty words for most of the evening. So reflexive that it's utterly thoughtless, hardly himself as he laughs and leans toward a familiar stranger like there's something magnetic in those bedroom eyes. The conversations are a wash of congratulations and condolences - someone's getting a divorce and someone else is expecting a baby. Probably. Could have been the same couple.
That'd be unfortunate. Kind of funny though.
"Good evening, Mr. Morningstar, having a nice evening?" There's a small window behind the bar, paint peeling off it's frame. Hairline fractures fun through it's pains, spilling shattered dusk onto the adjacent brick wall. He can't look away, she's caught him in a moment where he is no one at all. His eyes remain unfocused until she places a gloved finger beneath his chin and tilts his face up to meet her.
He calculates quickly, finds a smile that's more like a smirk. This is the kind of touch that wants to take something, he offers what he's willing to give "Are you?"
She's older, a donor of some sort if Wilder were to guess. Dark hair curtains the harsh lines of her face, painted a shade too pale so that the red on her lips stands out. "The fun has either left or passed out on the bar." She clicks her tongue, lip curling in disdain as she looks out over the scene, "Except for you."
"Maybe I'm not the fun then." Wilder finishes up the diluted whiskey at the bottom of his glass, grimaces against the burn, "Oh, well, that's a lie. Is this going to be an interesting proposition?"
He blinks though his lashes, hopeful, but his gaze keeps drifting toward jagged glass.
"I've got a business meeting in an exclusive location, and no plus one." She pushes her own drink across the table, Wilder lays his lips across her lipstick stain and keeps her gaze as he drains it in a gulp.
"You'll buy my drinks?"
She nods, smiling with canines.
"Sold."
He's always a cheaper than they expect.