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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 18:47:35 GMT -5
*It had been a few days since they came back from the cottage and Chuck hadn't seen much of Adrienne. He was beginning to think that agreeing to stay at the chateau was a mistake.*
*The sun had set but twilight still painted the sky an attractive tint of gold and orange. But he wasn't paying attention. With his phone pressed against his ear, he was pacing the living room.*
"Jack Bass. I want to talk to him," *he said, over enunciating the words as if it would make things clearer to the woman on the other end.*
"Like I said before, sir, he's unavailable. If you could leave your name--"
"Whatever meeting he's in, I want you to walk in there and tell him that it's his nephew. I've been leaving memos for him for the past three weeks. There no way he's occupied all the time."
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 18:51:03 GMT -5
*Unaware he was in there, Adrienne was passing through the living room to retrieve her book. She paused once she heard his voice, and took a breath to steel herself. Opening the door, she headed straight through to her book (which had been on an end-table), purposely not looking at him. It was just... awkward, to do so.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:01:16 GMT -5
"I'm still the holder of a considerable amount of Bass Industry shares. If this doesn't--"
*He broke off as he saw her. But he quickly resumed ranting into his phones. Or at least, trying to. He went on talking but without the conviction he did before.*
"If this matter does not get solved, I will make sure..." *he trailed off, distracted.* "Nevermind. I'll call back later."
*Chuck hung up and let out a frustrated sigh. What was going on between them was ridiculous.*
"What book is that?" *he asked casually.*
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:03:45 GMT -5
"Hamlet." *She said tersely, standing by the door. This was awkward. And ridiculous. But it was better than what could have happened.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:08:53 GMT -5
'Damn,' *he thought. Why did he even engage a conversation.*
"Is the girl dead yet?" *he asked, trying to make it sound like the joke he intended it to be.*
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:11:37 GMT -5
"No, Ophelia hasn't drowned herself yet." *She said softly.* "Still only at the nunnery scene. I've read it before, though."
*That was an understatement--she had it memorized, almost in its entirety.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:24:15 GMT -5
*He unwittingly stepped closer, slipping a hand into his pocket.*
"I had to write a paper on it during sophomore year. Made fun of the 'To be or not to be' monologue."
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:28:20 GMT -5
*She frowned.* "But... it's one of the most moving passages in the entire play; he's questioning his right to exist, whether or not it's worth it to continue living in an imperfect world, or if he should just end his life... the very nature of humanity."
*She was doing the thing again, the thing where she gestured with her hands and got excited about something. Then she flushed. It was now even more awkward than it had been.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:36:54 GMT -5
*Chuck grinned.*
"Hamlet talks too much. Like you," *he didn't sound accusatory. Instead, his tone was playful.*
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:39:58 GMT -5
*She rolled her eyes, grudgingly amused.*
"To be or not to be, that is the question; Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause." *She recited, without pause or flaw.*
"You think I talk too much; imagine if I talked like that all the time."
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:45:53 GMT -5
*An eyebrow ticked upwards, impressed. Slightly dumbfounded, it took him a second to talk.*
"Well," *he conceded.* "You have proven your point."
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:46:47 GMT -5
"I'll just... go then." *She said, turning.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:53:36 GMT -5
*As soon as she turned to leave, Chuck started rattling off Shakespeare's sonnet 130.*
"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare."
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Post by Adrienne on Jan 19, 2009 19:55:34 GMT -5
*She turned back, one eyebrow raised.*
"You know in most circumstances that poem would earn you a slap in the face before you could even reach the change in tone?"
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 19, 2009 19:57:26 GMT -5
"I don't see how it's offensive if you aren't my mistress," *he said smoothly.*
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