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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 0:36:52 GMT -5
"We'll discuss this over drinks," he said, a little imperiously to match her own tone, but feigning a willingness to buckle -- "That is, if you'd like. You've got plenty of reasons to be angry with me. I don't want to rob you of that."
Well, not prematurely, anyway. Silva hadn't expected quite this much fire, or the choice of invective.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 0:40:22 GMT -5
She touched his shoulders, her hands almost hovering over them as though she was certain he'd roughly, even painfully, shove them off. Remembering their last meeting brought that fear out in her.
"I've had plenty of reasons to miss you, too," she said gently - if he was going to be courteous with her ire then she could show him sweetness as well. She didn't want him to leave her on the shore, not really.
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 0:57:22 GMT -5
Silva inclined his face toward her, with an expression difficult to read, though not hostile.
"We can work out those as well, between ourselves, if you'd like."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 0:58:27 GMT -5
She stood up just a little taller to kiss him upon the chin, and nodded, and moved to board the boat, with a backward glance to him as she did.
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 16:44:12 GMT -5
As she followed, he casually reached back for her arm to guide her up and aboard, making a mental note that despite the weather she might still require an additional covering once they'd set out. She was as lovely as he'd remembered, standing there on the deck, or had grown even lovelier over the past days. He'd wager with certainty that she'd wept over him, which could only have contributed.
Silva fiddled with something at the console in passing, and the volume of the music decreased to a reasonable level.
"How have you been keeping here on your island? There's champagne -- or shall I mix you a martini?"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 17:30:14 GMT -5
Another thought struck Nina - probably belatedly, by secret-agent standards - and she pushed his arm away gently in a little alarm.
"How did you know I was here? We haven't had any contact since you left."
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 17:39:12 GMT -5
Silva smiled rather sheepishly. For a moment it was easy to see the boy he might once have been.
"You may recall my line of work. I should apologize for that as well, but first things first -- your mobile phone."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 17:50:34 GMT -5
Nina looked shocked, and also like she was internally losing a battle with herself over not being flattered by this.
"You know, you've never actually told me your line of work," she said, now pulling his arm around her and putting hers around him. "Only your former line of work."
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 17:58:05 GMT -5
"Oh, it's much the same," he said casually, and leaned in to nuzzle at her neck. "You never forget some skills, you know. Not that we had too many of those in my day, but they're terribly helpful--"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 18:03:22 GMT -5
Some kind of mercenary, most likely - no longer working for a specific service but up for hire, doing much the same things.
"And you left because of work?" she asked, putting her arms around his neck. She knew better than to put her fingers through his hair, but she rubbed at the base of his neck caressingly.
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 18:23:19 GMT -5
"Mmm. Differences of professional vision."
He moved his hand to the small of her back, accepting Nina's own display of touch obligingly.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 18:24:37 GMT -5
Somebody's been killed because of whatever Raoul learned in the hotel room that morning.
Somehow, Nina was neither surprised nor especially chilled - at least, she attributed the shiver that ran up her spine to the fact that his fingers were currently touching her there.
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Post by Silva on Sept 11, 2014 18:32:53 GMT -5
He traced a methodical circle with the edge of his thumb, hoping to elicit another thrill.
"It's a very boring business, really."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 11, 2014 20:11:37 GMT -5
It was subtle hints in body language that gave away her reaction - the faintest arch of the back and the involuntary lift of her shoulders as she pressed against him a little bit closer. Consciously, she appeared unmoved, even turning slightly out of his touch to look over the whole of the yacht.
"But lucrative, apparently."
How many people have died in the pursuit of this wealth, which I know is nothing but a bandage to him? Moreover why don't I care more?
"Champagne, did you say?"
I don't care more because they are all strangers to me. But it's more than that. If they were people I had met personally they would still not be equal to him; nobody is; even being here with him now he eclipses my entire life.
There was no surprise to that part, though; it was probably even deliberate. Half her life she didn't remember and the other had been tainted by horrors, and the parts she did remember. She didn't want the entire rest of her life, she wanted Raoul Silva. It was silly to even pretend she had other values that didn't include him. She barely knew him and she was meaningless to him and standing with him now she didn't want anything or anybody else.
I must mean something to him, she promised herself. He came back to me.
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Post by Silva on Sept 12, 2014 8:04:42 GMT -5
"Very." For what money meant to him, which was very little. It was a fine thing to control his own finances and not to run every instance of expenditure past a disapproving grandmother. That liberty financed little expeditions like this one.
Silva smiled, pressing his face to her hair. "Does that sound appropriately festive for a reunion?"
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