alnifolia | OPEN POST;

It's not that. [ And he says it with some surprise -- genuine, at that. ]

I had assumed you wanted to be rid of me.

[ Her gaze wonders away for a moment, remembering how their last encounter had ended. She has no real explanation for her disappointment that he'd adamantly cemented that as their supposed "last meeting," except for intrigue. In truth she should want to be rid of him, a man who once tried to kill her. A man who knows something about her that no one else should. In time, she hums. ]

"Might be safer for the both of us if this were our last meeting," were your exact words, I believe.

[ He tilts his head, an eyebrow arching. Now that there are fewer guests around them, he lets his voice return to normal. ]

And I don't think I was wrong. The more we're seen together, the more suspicion we'll draw. Change the names as much as you want, but the faces will still be recognizable.

[ And now that there are fewer guests around them, she draws closer to him. ]

So why not see each other in private, then?

[ Her voice is steady, unwavering, downright flirtatious, but with a hint of caution; she's testing the waters, here. ]

[ He arches an eyebrow, but he doesn't step back -- but neither does he return the flirtation, now that no one's around to watch.

(Though he'd never admit it, something in his chest tightens minutely. He'll have to examine that more closely later.) ]

As I said: I don't think I was wrong the first time.

[ She doesn't meet his eye, looking instead at his tie, her hand reaching up to run her fingers lightly along it, starting from the collar down. ]

Of course. But I rather regret the way our meetings are always tense. We both hold dangerous information over each other, sure, but that doesn't mean we can't be on more cordial terms.

[ That earns her a quiet chuckle. ]

Cordial? In my line of work, the word doesn't exist.

Besides. The information you have over me far outweighs that I have over you. You say two words, and my career is over.

To share the information I have over you? It'd take an awful lot of description, and I've never considered myself particularly well-spoken.

[ She hums, at that. He's got a point, after all. Still, she remains relentless, and now her other hand finds its way to his shoulder, trailing up his arm with a ghost-like touch. She finally looks up at him, her eyes ablaze with something. Something wicked, surely, because this is little more than a game to her. ]

Oh? And how might you describe me to someone, hmm?

[ His gaze follows the path her hand takes -- and there's an unmistakable air of wariness there, as though he's expecting her to pull a knife on him.

He hasn't lived this long without trusting his paranoia, after all.

And when she finally turns her eyes towards him, he responds with a practiced impassive mask, expression neutral. ]

As curious as I'm sure you are, I'd hate to give away my trump card, should the worst come to pass, Miss.

[ She narrows her eyes at him, although the smile across her lips remains. She's sure that the way she's touching him should have him either charmed or suspicious, given his line of work, but it doesn't show. Damn, he is stone cold, and she kind of likes that, to be perfectly honest. ]

Fair enough.

Well, then. [ She reaches up from his shoulder and cups his cheek. ] I'm sure you've no shortage of other women to dance with, though I'm also sure none of them are as interesting as I am. So maybe I should leave you and your mixed signals be to enjoy the rest of the party.

That is--if that's what you really want.

[ That gets her an arched eyebrow, though he doesn't pull away from her touch. A hint of amusement plays at the corners of his eyes. ]

"Mixed signals"? And here I thought I've been nothing but straightforward with you.

In a way, yes.

[ Sure. He's buying her silence, and all of that. But he'd seemed surprised when she pointed out how he was trying to get rid of her, and then stood by his earlier claim that they shouldn't be seen together. And if that's really all there is to it--that he came here to warn her and then be done with it, to enjoy the "social event of the season," then why is he letting her get close like this? It would have been easier to be stern in the other direction and say, "You really need to leave." But no, he let them wander off, away from the crowd, let her get close. ]

And yet here we are. Practically alone. If all you came here to do was warn me and enjoy the party, you wouldn't have let it get this far.

So, I'm asking you: do you want me to leave or stay?

[ He still doesn't pull away -- because a small part of him, one that he'll have to examine and squash later, is enjoying the contact; he's enjoying the strange little show of intimacy and affection, feigned as it is. Peter wonders just how fucking starved he was for physical contact that he's letting her get away with this so easily -- and more than that, that he's actually enjoying it a little.

It's while he's wrestling with that little conundrum that she asks her question, and his eyes narrow a little and grow distant in thought. That he never should have shown up here goes without saying; that he's let things escalate this far without putting a stop to any of it is sloppy, to say the least.

(And a part of him, the part that's soaking in every little casual brush of her fingers and the flirtatious lilt of her voice, screams please don't go.)

At length he manages to drag his gaze up to meet hers. ]

What I'd like to know is, what makes you so eager for me to stay? One would assume our first meeting would have soured you toward the idea of any others.

That's what you'd think, isn't it?

[ The logic follows, after all. He tried to kill her, or to apprehend her so that Hock could kill her, but he did so much more than that instead. He spared her, chose to work with her against Hock, and that speaks about his character more than the initial fact that he was out to end her life.

And then he spared her life again at their next meeting out of "gratitude," which was fair enough. But to go out of his way to warn her about another hit, this time? ]

I'll be honest.

I find you incredibly intriguing. Call it a crush, even--that hardly matters. I've never met a man like you. God only knows professionals like us only look out for ourselves, but you're different, whether you like it or not. I like that.

[ And then she smirks. ]

That, and you're honestly one of the most attractive men I've had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.

[ That-- that last bit actually surprises a laugh from him, an oddly genuine one, and he ducks his head, glancing away. ]

Flatterer.

[ It's the only thing he manages for a moment, and when he regains control of himself, he has the presence of mind to take a glance around; it appears casual, sure, but mostly he's attempting to discern whether or not they've drawn too much attention to themselves, standing on the outskirts of the crowd as they are. To the untrained eye, they just appear like a good-looking pair of party goers who happened to cross paths, but--

--but the two of them have enemies. That Peter is here is proof enough of that. Dangerous to get too close to anyone, he knew. But that he could be-- himself around Kasumi is a welcome change. A relief, even. He's spent so much of his time these days being someone else that occasionally, he wondered if he even remembered who "himself" was.

He licks his lips nervously, glances up at Kasumi. He wants to protest, he really does, but a selfish part of him enjoys this, enjoys her. The fact that she flirts and toys and teases him, even knowing who he is. It surprises him how much he actually sort of likes it. ]

I won't stay long. [ It's the decision he comes to after a second of deliberation. ] Another hour at most, I suppose, but in the meantime -- consider me yours.

[ Kasumi similarly appreciates the way she can just be up front with him (when she wants to be, anyway). In a way, she's just glad for someone in the galaxy with whom she doesn't have to take on a fake identity, and well, she'd already given him most of the reasons she has for wanting a little bit more out of their encounter than just a professional exchange.

She wasn't lying when she said she found him intriguing. She definitely wasn't lying about the handsome part, too, but mostly? She's attracted to his character--the strange way he seems to be looking out for her (and himself, mostly, but you know) and the way he fiercely protected his family when Hock had dared to threaten Quill.

That, and the fact that this is just their little secret, that she knows his real identity and he knows her face, and they have to sneak around to do--whatever it is they're doing--is pretty damn exciting.

To that effect, her hand trails down and takes a hold of him, her lips curling into a smile. ]

Then let's not waste any time.

[ She turns, moving, leading them even further away from the dance floor towards the glass doors leading outside... Remember when they overheard a couple fooling around in the gardens at the last party they were at?

Yeah, they're totally going to be that couple this time. ]

[ He resists at first, when she starts pulling him away -- if only because he has the sudden realization that this is a monumentally terrible idea. He should leave. He should-- he should really leave.

But he doesn't. And though he's clearly hesitant initially, he eventually gives in and allows himself to be led. Once they're out in the cool night air, the garden mostly deserted in favor of the company and the dancing indoors, Peter allows at least some of the playboy act to drop -- just enough so that he feels more like himself, but not enough that prying eyes would notice anything amiss in his bearing. ]

What exactly do you have in mind, here?

Well, first off--

[ She brings a hand up, slipping around to the back of his neck as she presses herself close, leaning in to whisper into his ear. ]

Something I've been wanting to do for quite some time now.

[ And she pulls ever so slightly away, her lips barely brushing against his as she goes, and then she presses a soft, teasing little kiss on his lips. After that, she leans away a little with a brazen look on her face that says, Well?

Your move, Quill. ]

OPEN POST;

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ok look it was late and i forgot a word ok

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OPEN RP POST ① Pick a character ② Pick a prompt (or DIY) (shamelessly and selectively pilfered from bakerstreet's Random Scenario Meme) ③ Do the thing!. table code by betterdolphin