|
Post by Valmont on Mar 26, 2008 15:53:01 GMT -5
*Valmont sighed. He'd even put it in Les liasons dangereuse, sure that she'd see it and wonder.*
"Well then. I shouldn't read it if I were you--it will likely just make you angry"
*Then again, he rather liked her angry.*
|
|
|
Post by Valerie on Mar 26, 2008 15:55:23 GMT -5
"The letter, you mean? I've already read the book. It was...alright, I suppose," *she said with a slight sneer.* "Nothing spectacular."
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on Mar 26, 2008 16:01:55 GMT -5
"Yes, yes, we all know exactly what you think of me, and I daresay it's all delightfully true. Except for the bit about me dying for love at the end, which is clearly utter rot and libelous invention. I meant the letter."
*He went over to her bag and picked it up.*
"I'll just burn it. The letter, not the bag. Or the book."
|
|
|
Post by Valerie on Mar 26, 2008 16:08:32 GMT -5
"No, come on, let me see it," *she said, almost amiably, stretching out an arm to stop him, waiting for him to hand it to her.* "You wanted me to read it, once. Why not now?"
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on Mar 26, 2008 16:23:05 GMT -5
*Valmont straightened, book in hand.* "Because I wanted something from you, before," *he said ingenuously.* "Whether you take the money now is of little concern." *Even so, he handed it to her.*
|
|
|
Post by Valerie on Mar 26, 2008 16:30:26 GMT -5
"And no one wants anything from the girl who just passed some unknown man's spawn into the world in a spray of blood and other viscous fluids," *she chuckled, unfolding the letter and settling back against the pillows to read it. The money fell into her lap and she stared at it blankly after she'd finished reading before she glanced up, staring at Valmont. She looked as if she very much wanted to speak, to break the silence, but found she had nothing she could say.*
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on Mar 26, 2008 16:36:53 GMT -5
*The only thing that Valmont could imagine knocking Valerie speechless in his presence was an effort to formulate something especially vicious, so he paled a bit and stepped back towards the door.*
"Impressive. It seems you can shut your mouth for thirty seconds together. Now. I have... things to do. Which you interrupted. No need to leave--I shan't bother you and I'd rather not explain the hemorrhaging girl on my carpet to the authorities."
|
|
|
Post by Valerie on Mar 26, 2008 16:41:44 GMT -5
*Valerie was still slightly baffled as the door clicked shut. Wordlessly, she folded the money back into the book for safekeeping and laid it on a side table before she lay back, her head spinning as she fell asleep in a matter of moments, the letter still lying on the pillow by one curled hand resting beside her head. The maids finished straightening up the room and arranging the fresh linens on the bed, leaving quietly the sleeping girl curled under the thick, soft covers, looking as if nothing untoward had happened.*
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on Apr 21, 2008 16:35:23 GMT -5
**NEW DAY**
*He was, Valmont had to admit to himself, obsessed.
No, perhaps "fixated" was the better term. Less obviously under her power. She was just a bit of a girl, really. Nothing to him. Nothing! Absolutely beneath him, and a prude to boot. Not even the prettiest bit of skirt he'd ever seen, not by a long shot. So why couldn't he get her out of his mind? Why did he eat up her scolding by the spoonful, when she wanted nothing more do do with him...
Of course that was untrue. He hadn't bought into her professed indifference; he wasn't that foolish. And surely part of his own fascination--yes, that was a good word, too--was predicated on her own sublimated desire. Fulfill that--and his own--and his nights would be trouble-free again.
He could rest, and stop thinking through conversations with her, seeking the upper hand. Conversation was overrated, he told himself (though his mind betrayed him by actually forgetting about sex sometimes when they did speak). And he wanted something else. Moreover, he wanted to teach her that that "something else" wasn't such a horrible thing after all.
Ilse, whatever else she was, was right about that one thing. All Mlle. Lambert needed was to know what she was missing.
Feeling slightly foolish, Valmont's toilet was especially thorough today, his outfit more carefully chosen than usual. Not that he owned anything that was unsuitable, of course.*
|
|
|
Post by Maria on May 3, 2008 14:24:02 GMT -5
**NEW NIGHT**
*Hopefully, Valmont remembered her. And the brief--though memorable, to her at least--encounter they had in the hallway. She knocked on the door she was sure belonged to his suite. What Norman didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and besides, how could she possibly resist a John Malkovich?*
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on May 12, 2008 12:01:48 GMT -5
((Dude, totally missed this. Sorry.))
*Valmont opened the door, and eyebrow lifting lazily at the sight before him. He was dressed, but jacketless. He gazed pointedly past Maria into the hallway.*
"Alone, are we?" *he drawled.*
|
|
|
Post by Maria on May 12, 2008 13:44:32 GMT -5
((No worries. I'd almost forgotten it myself))
"Completely," she purred.
She was wearing, for once, something period-correct...or mostly, in any case. The design had a more 21st century edge to it, as though a modern designer had decided to go for a 'retro' look*
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on May 12, 2008 13:52:20 GMT -5
*Valmont, of course, noticed the dress.*
"Come on in, then," *he said.* "I prefer my valuables destroyed without the potential for loss of life being involved."
*He stepped back and held the door for her.*
"Forgive me if it sounds like small talk, my dear, but who is your tailor?"
|
|
|
Post by Maria on May 12, 2008 14:05:12 GMT -5
"I promise, I won't break anything that doesn't want to be handled roughly."
She all but glided into the room, flashing him a smile when he asked about her dress.
"Venocce is the designer. Fashions with a spin to them."
That name: *Is so made up*
|
|
|
Post by Valmont on May 12, 2008 15:57:31 GMT -5
"Indeed," *he said, though the fashion itself was not the only thing to recommend how the dress clung to her ample form.* "I shall have to make a stop there one day."
*He shut the door.*
"So tell me, mademoiselle; what brings you here today?"
*He knew very well, and it always added a little spice for them to track him down, but there was no fun in giving up so quickly.*
|
|