And together we'll keep the night at bay, dancing till dawn, dancing till dawn....

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

(Dusk, Monday Sept. 21st, day 113)
(The Sacred Whore)

Today just flew by.

After voting and chatting with friends, I went by the doctor's office.  Lucien looked like.... he looked bad enough that I flipped over the 'Doctor is Out' sign on the door and gently led him by the hand back to his private office.   It took some coaxing, but he finally started talking. .... 
Poor, poor Miao.  And my poor Lucien, who is tearing himself up over not being able to help her.   I can certainly understand why he's been there all these night.  I will have to go by soon and see my dear friend.  Hooves or no hooves, she's still Miao. 
We sit quietly for a few moments, I'm settled on his lap, his arms wrapped around my waist.  "Are you going out to Ares tonight?"  "Yes, I am... it's Monday."  He's quiet again for a moment, then merely requests I try to be home before nightfall.  I shudder a bit.  He must have heard the howling too.  How could anyone NOT have heard it.
"Don't worry, I will.  Was planning on being home in time for dinner... maybe I'll finally get over and visit Dorian tonight, get my dress plans started."   I offer brightly, hoping that will ease his mind.  It seems to, for he even suggests I pick up dinner from the cafe' and spend the night.  Looking like a slight weight has been taken off him, Lucien walks me to the door.  I remind him to vote with a kiss, but as I'm leaving, he catches my hand.  "Wanda... please.  Be inside before dark, and whatever else you do.... DON'T mention Gaueko to Dorian.  Promise me!"  The intensity in his eyes..... must be another story I am unaware of there.  I merely nod and promise him.

Practice was better..... granted, I think Ares was still cross with me, and he was still a task master, but I know I did better today than last week.  Merely berated me half the time I was there.  An improvement, I think.  I hope.

Finally.... the last rays of the setting sun find me showered, redressed in a smart black skirt, peach colored silk blouse with a ruffled collar, and a fitted black vest.  Two filet mignon dinners from the cafe', pumpkin cheesecake and a bottle of wine are packed in a satchel for us to dine on, and my sketchbook filled with wedding ideas is tucked under my arm.   With a smile I push open the door to the Sacred Whore and call out in my singsong voice:  "Dorian Darling...... PLEASE come out and play with meeeeeeeeeeee....."
Grin widely, I hum a tune under my breath and wait for my languid lover to come out from wherever he's hiding.

(Closed)

Comments

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I think this is a step up from where we were thirty minutes ago, granted, when I pictured us in this bed tonight, it was NOT having a serious conversation.
Still, lying side by side, just talking instead of fighting... I'll take it.

"I'm used to what I am. I see things change and, well, that's the one thing that stays the same..." there's that look again, that flash of a haunted look, and then it's gone, replaced with a quirky smile. "Besides, I happen to like my women with a little experience." My lips quirk up a bit too. I want to make a joke about experience is one thing, arthritis is quite another, but I decide against ruining the tentative calm.

It seems though, that my Dorian is now in a mood to talk. "I am a very old man. And I've done a great deal of things, some good and some bad. Some... Recently. I'm not who you think I am." His fingers are gentle, as is his tone, but there is such a weight to it. I open my mouth to protest, but he is right. For as much as I've seen and felt, I don't know him. Sigh and reach over to trace his jaw. "You're right, Dorian... we don't know each other well." Think about what he just said. "Some bad.... recently.....
you don't have to tell me, you know that right? But I am here and will listen... if you want to tell me."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

I keep my eyes on the slow progression of my fingers along her arm, the barest of grazes against her skin as the seconds tick by and her question hangs in the air. Damn.

I don't think I can bear to go over it again, even after the sleep Lucien was kind enough to give. It's enough to go out after dark, even across the street, and the idea of sleeping alone has almost sent me running to their bed on more than one occasion. No. Somehow speaking of that is worse than what I did. I can handle being the bastard.

"I almost imagined Lucien would have told you. He mentioned he wouldn't, but..." A small shrug. "Glass." I finally look to her, eyes hard. "I beat her near to death. Oscar as well. I think he fared a little worse, actually. Don't really... Remember."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Silence hangs heavy in the air after I offer. Finally, he speaks. "Glass. I beat her near to death. Oscar as well. I think he fared a little worse, actually. Don't really... Remember."

Well, I can honestly say, I did not expect to hear that. Release the breath I realize I was holding.
Okay, what does one say to that? "That's why Lucien was so tired the other week." I say slowly, not dropping my eyes or showing any shock or horror.
"There is obviously more to that. Some catalyst. Just like...." Lick my lips and decide a truth for a truth is needed here. "Just like the night I could have honestly whipped Lucien to death if he couldn't heal himself. At the time I forgot it... and there was so much blood... he's still covered in scars."
Look away for a moment, trying to wipe the image from my mind. "I won't...." Shake my head. "You don't have to say anymore. I can't imagine what set you off enough to beat someone like that, even accidentally, and I don't want to make you relive it."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

It seems forever before she speaks again and I have to fight the urge to jump from the bed, toss her out the back door and forget this whole damn conversation ever happened.

When she finally speaks, her voice is steady and it's somehow worse than if she'd gone into hysterics. Perhaps because it's so out of place with what I was expecting, what I could have been wanting. I honestly can't say.

"Just like the night I could have honestly whipped Lucien to death if he couldn't heal himself. At the time I forgot it... and there was so much blood... he's still covered in scars."

It comes out of no where. She looks away and I let her, more to return the favor as she collects herself.

"I won't.... You don't have to say anymore. I can't imagine what set you off enough to beat someone like that, even accidentally, and I don't want to make you relive it."

Another stretching silence. It's only when I realize how it could be taken that I slip my hand around her waist, nuzzling slightly at her neck until our eyes meet again. "So do you still want to stay tonight?"

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I think my reaction to his confession, or lack of reaction thereof, catches him off guard. Can't say I am at all happy with the fact that he could have killed one of my friends, or anyone else. And whatever happened, it shouldn't excuses it....
but I know I only have a part of the story. And Damn you Lucien, oaths be damned! You should have told me!

After I confess what preys on my conscious, the room goes quiet again. Start fiddling with the tie of the robe, starting to wonder if maybe I shouldn't just leave, when his arm slips around my waist, and his lips brush against the column of my throat. "So do you still want to stay tonight?"

Yes. No. Maybe. Should have left an hour ago. Sigh a little and smile. "Well, I did bring dinner, and I am out of books to read at home." I say lightly, indicating the shelves of books surrounding us, waving airily with my hand, then lay my hand on his chest and curl tighter into his embrace. "Yes, Dorian, if you'll have me, I want to stay."

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

She takes a little too long to think on the answer for comfort and that goes more to speak for the tension in the room than anything else. I sigh a bit when she mentions dinner, pulling her closer still.

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go." I press a kiss into her hair, relaxing a bit. "You wanted me, so now you'll have to deal with it, won't you?"

I don't think I could stomach dinner at the moment, no matter that I was ready to cook something up myself only so long ago, so we simply lie there for some time, myself trying to be content and finding it's a little easier as the minutes roll past.

"Gray" I finally state, breaking the silence. "My surname is Gray."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go. You wanted me, so now you'll have to deal with it, won't you?" Oh, I can't help it, I grin against his shoulder and giggle. "Oh the horror! How will I survive, having to suffer your company?" Once the giggling passes, I sigh contentedly and slide my arm up around his neck, idly playing with the hair curling at the nape of his neck.
You asked me once not to give up on you, well I won't. I'm not letting you go either, my friend.

As we lie there, the quiet of the room settling over us like a blanket, I feel his body slowly relax against mine.
"Gray" The word comes from nowhere, and I lift my head a bit to look at him, questioningly.
"My surname is Gray." I push myself up to a sitting position next to him. "Dorian Gray..... Dorian Gray." I say softly, as if tasting the name on my lips. My lips quirk for a minute, because now I have his proper name to yell at him when I get mad, and I would tease him about that too, but something else stirs in me, pushing silliness aside.

With gentle fingers, I reach down and cup the side of his face with my hand. "I am very pleased to make your aquaintance, Mr. Dorian Gray." I say, as if we're meeting for the first time. Which maybe, we are. The thought of that makes me smile, an honest smile, but full of promise. Push him down gently, so he's on his back, and I slide my body on top of his so I am stradling his hips, smiling down at him. The robe, which was too big to begin with, slips off a shoulder, exposing a shoulder and the top of my bra.
I don't even bother moving to cover myself.
"I am Wanda von SacherMosch, and I have a question for you, Mr.Dorian Gray...have you ever gone dancing in the rain?"

Lean over and once again, cover his lips with mine, claiming them in a gentle kiss as I wind my arms aound his neck and stretch my body out on top of his.
No need to rush... we have all night to dance, he and I.