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Post by Margot Reolas on Feb 10, 2007 22:39:04 GMT -5
Margot looked at his closed eyes carefully. Wishing he would just open them. That he wouldn't hide like he did. Even as she placed the glasses on her lap he still didn't reveal his eyes. It was like he hated them or something. Did he not want her to see them? Or was it everyone he didn't want to see his eyes. It didn't make sense.
She let her fingers trace the mark on his nose. Tracing circles around his eyes. Feeling the skin beneath the glasses. She kissed the spot between his two eyes. Her lips brushing just to the side of his right eye. She then kissed his lips after. But she pulled away after a while.
"Open your eyes." She told him. More like asked him. "I want to see what you're hiding."
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Post by Damon Walker on Feb 10, 2007 23:01:58 GMT -5
He felt her soft fingers move across the bridge of his nose, causing him to realize that there was an impression there. The young man had never gazed at a reflection to see what he looked like without his sunglasses, so he did not know if they left an impression or not. He did know, though, that her fingers moved down to just below his eyes and traced around them momentarily. While she explored his features normally hidden to the world, the young magician wondered whether she would be satisfied with what she received from his appearance.
He then felt her kiss the bridge of his nose, where her fingers momentarily had traced, and then her soft, tender lips also kissed the side of his right eye. As her lips pressed to his, he began to believe that the matter was sealed with it, but then was proven incorrect when she pulled away.
"Open your eyes. I want to see what you're hiding."
Damon's head bowed down slightly. Sébastien was the only living man besides the scientist that had created the glasses for him who knew the true reason he wore the sunglasses. Every time anyone would ask about them, he would simply say, 'They protect my eyes,' or something to weave a way around the topic. Now, he had allowed the young mistress to take his protection from him and she demanded what he could not do. Quickly, he wove a story into his mind and allowed it to flow through his lips in hope that it would be enough to satisfy her, at least for now.
"I do not hide them from you, milady," he began as he let his head come up to the position that it would be if he were to look into her eyes. "I hide you from them. Your beauty may cause mien eyes to be so captivated that they may never look away again." His hands moved onto her arms and smoothly moved down to her lap where he found the item that protected his eyes from the true reason.
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Post by Margot Reolas on Feb 10, 2007 23:11:14 GMT -5
She smiled slightly though she knew that wasn't the real reason. Maybe he really didn't want to tell her. Maybe she should just leave him alone. And she did. Margot didn't say another word. But when he reached for the glasses she took them. She instead placed them on him herself. Letting them slide on his nose and behind his ears, without another word. She wanted to show him despite his silly stories she believed him and respected it.
"You hide. From what I do not know yet, but I will leave it for now. I mustn't let my curiousity ruin a good thing. Maybe you just like them. I'm sure after so long your eyes aren't used to the light."
She smiled and turned in the man's lap to face him better. Her arms going around his neck, bringing her face close to his.
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Post by Damon Walker on Feb 13, 2007 17:49:33 GMT -5
Confusion flew through him swiftly as he felt the sunglasses pulled from his light grasp. Perhaps his story wasn't as satisfactory as he had hoped. Swiftly he began to work up another when he felt the glasses move smoothly back into place, sliding the hooks behind his ears and the connector up to the brim of his nose. A smile curled into his lips in relief as his glasses were put back on and slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes. After a moment, he saw that it was safe and opened them completely to look at her.
"You hide. From what I do not know yet, but I will leave it for now. I mustn't let my curiosity ruin a good thing. Maybe you just like them. I'm sure after so long your eyes aren't used to the light."
The smile faded a little at her last statement. Did she know already? Then he remembered that normal people also occasionally grew a little sensitive to the light and that more then likely was what she was speaking about. When she turned in his lap, he smiled and allowed his arms to wrap gently around her waist while her arms moved around his neck. Her face was now close to his once again, close enough to kiss if he wished to. Leaning forward slightly, he did just that.
Lightly he pressed his lips to hers, allowing his eyes to close in enjoyment while he kissed her. Apparently she was prepared to wait for him, and he was happy and was willing to reward her for her patience. The pain in his arm seemed to be nil now as he ignored it to allow his love for the young lady to overflow and overpower the feeling. More then likely, he would regret all of this movement and pushing upon his arm the way he was doing the next day. Surely the pain would catch up with him.
After a moment of the embrace, he lightly let his lips break away from hers and smiled to her. "I may never tire of the taste of your kiss," he said quietly to her. Damon allowed his hands to gently move down her back and then grasp each other, his right mostly holding onto his left as he gazed into her eyes. As he held her, his eyes sort of trailed off to the side and caused him to remember the conversation that he had had earlier that evening with the owner of the theater.
"Monsieur Pomeroy asked me before if I would be able to perform next week," he told her, still debating on the answer. "The other magician will be out of the city for another month, but I didn't give him an answer." Though he was speaking all of his comments as if they were statements, he was mostly looking for an answer to the owner's question from her. His eyes moved back to gaze into hers while he waited for an answer that he hadn't actually asked for.
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Post by Margot Reolas on Feb 14, 2007 9:25:40 GMT -5
Everytime this man kissed her she went wild. Shocks of electricity conducting down her spine and to every nerve in her body. She had known him but a week and it already seemed like she was in love, but poor little Margot didn't know what love was. This all felt good, but she wasn't sure if it was real. Did he really love her? Like a person should be loved? Maybe it was just a crush, like she was feeling it was for herself. She was just afraid of this all. Afraid of rejection or losing him. He was a wanted man because of his shows and it seemed now because of her. What other reason did that policeman have but that he was a crazy?
She thought about what he was telling her. About how the owner of the theater wanted him to perform. She really wasn't sure that was such a good idea and from the way he was telling it to her he didn't either. It seemed he needed a bit of insight and she was happy to give it. She wasn't sure what exactlyto tell him though. What if she said something wrong? What if he went up there because she told him to and got injured again? How horrible would it be if she was the reason he was killed or badly hurt?
"Does Monsieur Pomeroy know about what happened the other night?" Margot asked him lightly. Might as well ask that. If he knew then there was probably no question about whether or not he would perform.
"I'm not so sure he wants you up on his stage if there's going to be another shoot. It might just be helpful to lay low for a little while."
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Post by Damon Walker on Feb 14, 2007 10:19:23 GMT -5
Whenever she asked him the question, his mind turned back to the night of the shooting. He didn't remember seeing the owner in the audience while he was performing, nor did he remember speaking with the man before the actual shooting. All he could remember was getting shot in the shoulder, passing out somewhere under the stage, possibly where he used to land when he performed his 'vanishing' act, and then waking up in a room. Although, after he woke up, the man was there and they had a small conversation about it, but that was about all he could remember of the man from that night.
"I'm not so sure he wants you up on his stage if there's going to be another shoot. It might just be helpful to lay low for a little while."
A soft smile curled back into his lips after she spoke her comment. He doubted that the owner truly believed that there would be another shooting, so he was pretty sure he knew where the comment had come from. Comforted by her concern, he responded to her question first. "Yes," he replied to her after a short pause. "Not first hand, but I told him about it after I woke up." After he finished his previous statement, he remembered what he had woken up to. Almost with a laugh, he added in, "You girls must have ruined your dresses."
When he had awoken, he remembered having various pieces from skirts around his shoulder and across his chest, holding another piece of cloth firmly over the bullet hole. It had looked like the pieces were from the dresses that he remembered seeing Margot and Drea wearing at the performance. He assumed that they must have cared about him quite a bit if they were willing to trash their dresses just to help cover his wound. Maybe whenever he returned to the theater he would speak with the owner about getting some various kits to have laying in strategic places just in case it happened again. Though these two may have been willing to tear their clothes for him, he wasn't sure if others would be too willing to do so.
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Post by Margot Reolas on Feb 14, 2007 10:42:31 GMT -5
"Hm..." She wasn't sure what he meant by ruining their dresses. But she understood after she remembered what she did. "I don't mind. Your life is more important than some piece of fabric."
Margot rested her forhead against Damon's. Things were moving rather quickly. Earlier they barely even talked to each other and now she was sitting there in his arms. It was a miracle from heaven. Something she couldn't have imagined happening.
"What are you going to do? Perform then?"
She wanted him to perform. It was his job, but she was afraid now that he might get hurt. Her heart was in this one deep and she was afraid that if she pulled it out it might rip in two. She would die if something happened to him.
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Post by Damon Walker on Mar 3, 2007 7:18:44 GMT -5
Her comment warmed him and caused his tired smile to widen. The fact that she cared for him was obvious, though how she proclaimed it so much was somewhat surprising. Most were shy in their verbalizing of such things or simply denied having feelings of the such. Fabric to women was like their hair, which in turn was their most valuable possession - at least, that's what it used to be like. If she were willing to tell him that his life was more important than that, then it was practically saying she would do quite a bit more than the average person would for another.
When she rested her forehead against his own, Damon's eyes watched hers. He could almost read her emotions through them, as they did show any emotion much greater than mere posture. While he searched through her brown eyes, he saw mostly what he already had guessed. She was happy. Happy to have met him, to have been able to get so close to him so quickly. They were the same emotions that he had assumed that she held when the young lady hadn't run off of the stage and stayed to help him, when he had awoken with all of those skirt-like bandages around him, and also when he was with her earlier that evening.
"What are you going to do? Perform then?"
A quiet sigh slivered its way out through the young man's nose at her question. Her comments before told him that she didn't want him to perform just yet. It seemed that she wanted him to wait it out, let everything cool down before he tried to publicly perform again. As she wanted him to stay off the stage, he knew that the owner wanted him to stay on it. His eyes moved away from hers and glanced down at his wounded arm. "I don't know yet," he responded after the pause. Lightly, he flexed his left hand, but stopped when he felt the pain shoot through his arm and collect in his shoulder. "I'll practice a little first," he said after another short pause. "To see if I'm up for it."
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