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Post by Silva on Jun 25, 2015 16:44:54 GMT -5
"Did you think I meant anyone else?"
Silva pressed his lips to the top of her golden head, self-consciously possessive.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jun 27, 2015 3:33:39 GMT -5
"With you, Raoul, I'm never certain of anything, not even how I feel," she replied solemnly.
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Post by Silva on Jun 28, 2015 10:19:47 GMT -5
"How are you feeling now, mm?"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jun 28, 2015 12:38:25 GMT -5
"Awake, finally."
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Post by Silva on Jun 30, 2015 20:50:00 GMT -5
He exhaled a little heavily against her perfumed hair. How sweet it had been, to wake up young and intact without pain.
"Only pleasant dreams, I hope?"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jun 30, 2015 20:57:00 GMT -5
"I didn't dream." That was a nice change.
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Post by Silva on Jun 30, 2015 21:00:25 GMT -5
"Do you often dream, otherwise?"
He shifted beside her, taking a little strain off his ancient knees.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jun 30, 2015 21:03:47 GMT -5
"Often," she admitted with a little reluctance, choosing not to look at him.
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Post by Silva on Jul 5, 2015 12:22:22 GMT -5
"Do you ever dream about me?"
He dreamed of another woman, often.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jul 5, 2015 18:19:20 GMT -5
She smiled tightly, and made up for it with a well-humored smack to his thigh.
"I've known you two weeks!"
Nina started to get up. It had been faintly chillier this morning but though the sun wasn't that high in the sky yet, it was already hot. She peeled off her shirt, turned it right side out, and promptly got into his cigarettes, though she couldn't find a lighter.
While looking for one, she acceded. "Mm. Those dreams aren't nightmares, Raoul. Do you have a-?"
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Post by Silva on Jul 5, 2015 23:06:39 GMT -5
"A lot can happen in two weeks, hmm."
He sat up, joints and battered ribcage protesting, to rummage on the bedside table. Silva did indeed have a lighter, a big ugly Soviet relic that nevertheless was more than fit for gallantly lighting her cigarette. (Well, his cigarette, ultimately. He plucked one for himself and briefly cupped her face, to coax the flame from her lips to his.)
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jul 6, 2015 15:08:23 GMT -5
"Thank you," she demurred, deftly putting off more talk of bad dreams.
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Post by Silva on Jul 29, 2015 13:18:06 GMT -5
He smoked, full of murky self-satisfaction. Good to know that he could still charm her, even in small ways.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 1, 2015 18:50:46 GMT -5
She alternated between smoking effortlessly, leaning in to kiss his chest (above the nipple, above his heart was nearest her lips, skin firm, slightly hairy and radiantly tan; she wanted to lean her cheek against him and press her ear to his heartbeat, but she didn't dare) and turning her head to look at his noble profile and unreadable eyes as he smoked.
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Post by Silva on Aug 24, 2015 17:28:20 GMT -5
Looking somewhat leonine worked in his favor there, and he knew it, but there was the some fleeting impression of a callow young man some 30-odd years past sneaking a cigarette where the nearest female relative couldn't see.
"Would you care for another coffee? Something stronger this time."
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