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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 24, 2015 17:38:25 GMT -5
"Something non-alcoholic, yes."
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Post by Silva on Aug 24, 2015 17:42:22 GMT -5
Silva laughed rawly.
"Aren't you a hothouse orchid. Very well, then."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 24, 2015 17:44:35 GMT -5
"Aren't I a what?"
She wrinkled up her nose, the one telltale sign of foreignness in her Anglo-Saxon looks - large and very definitely Eastern-European.
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Post by Silva on Aug 24, 2015 18:42:43 GMT -5
"A lovely and unusual flower."
Or a note in the perfume of a distinguished woman. He skimmed the side of his hand down the slope of her cheek.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 24, 2015 18:50:03 GMT -5
"Is that what you meant by that?"
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Post by Silva on Aug 24, 2015 18:53:36 GMT -5
"They require careful attention."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 24, 2015 19:01:49 GMT -5
"I don't understand what that has to do with me not being a lush, like you," she said, but she was laughing.
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Post by Silva on Aug 24, 2015 21:23:38 GMT -5
"My liver has more practice."
He made as if to slither off the bed, arrestingly muscled and managing to disturb Nina fairly little given the circumstances. Sneaking out of bed unnoticed was a valuable asset to any spy.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 25, 2015 11:13:45 GMT -5
"Than mine with liquor, or than me with you?" she asked idly. She'd discovered a fine stack of records and was combing through them. It made her look glamorously discerning musically when in fact Nina had an awful tendency to get commercial jingles stuck in her head and hum them all day. 'This is a Burger King town! We know how burgers should be,' right as Adrian was emerging with a cup of green tea looking faintly judgmental in order to not laugh.
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Post by Silva on Aug 25, 2015 19:21:21 GMT -5
"Why, both, of course. You're still so fresh."
(Silva's taste in music was a criminal offense all on its own. He went to straighten himself out, casually avoiding the mirror except to touch his jaw and feel it click in alignment.)
"Found anything you'd like to hear?"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 25, 2015 19:30:45 GMT -5
She doubted he'd intended both, but didn't press it. Getting a straight answer from him was unlikely; the harder she tried the more he insisted upon drawing it out into a greater spiral.
"I'm not familiar with any of these bands."
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Post by Silva on Aug 25, 2015 21:03:57 GMT -5
Silva made a small self-deprecating sound.
"Good God, am I that old? Here, I'll make a selection for you."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 26, 2015 16:51:29 GMT -5
"You know you are," she said in so light and casual a voice that it tenderly implied how little she minded.
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Post by Silva on Aug 26, 2015 17:11:00 GMT -5
Silva approached her from behind, somewhat unnecessarily, and laced his hands around her waist.
"But I'm an old man with good taste."
From the jumble of artists represented that was highly debatable. He leant in to nuzzle Nina's throat.
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Post by Nina Fortner on Aug 26, 2015 17:24:40 GMT -5
She laughed and turned her head backward, cupping his chin awkwardly in her palm and kissing him. He tasted like cigarette smoke.
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