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Post by Jacob Pierce on Dec 22, 2015 21:10:17 GMT 2
 A bloody sandwich and a body in the cooler Doing his job, that could implicate so many things in this house. Oh, I’m just following orders, says the man while dumping hot water in some poor sod who had the misfortune of being caught. But he was sure Valeria had no desire to know these unsavory details, she was only a little better than a civilian, she may know a few things, but vaguely knowing the family did bad things was very different than seeing it or even hearing details, and Jacob wouldn’t be the one to shatter the delicate line. But she was fiery and stubborn, she asked more questions, not appearing to be fazed by the gore, and Jacob watched with only mild curiosity how the big guy would react. He didn’t seem the sort who would have much patience to be grilled by some tiny woman, Bianchi or no. But she wasn’t here just to interrupt them, of course not, it was a kitchen, a place people went to find food, and that was exactly what she intended. Jacob shrugged, he didn’t much care to keep talking to this man, he was a vicious dog just waiting an order from his master to tear Jacob’s throat apart, he had no will to find out how much the man allowed himself to do without an expressed order. “You’re not disturbing anything, we’re done talking.” He said glaring to the man from behind his mask, he had caught the look the big guy had shot him, as if he tried to stare at Jacob into submission, he was sure the man still had quite some things to say to him, but he wasn’t the one calling the shots here, even with his threatening posture of who knew too much, Jacob wasn’t bound to obey this man. Valeria pitted about the kitchen, seemed determined to ignore any kind of tense atmosphere that might have settle on the room, Jacob honestly admired her courage, she should know anyone who obeyed the Bianchi wouldn’t lay a hand on a member of the family, but still, they were a bunch of criminals, and the big guy was covered in blood. Instead, she just asked for eggs, no big deal. But when she went to the cooler, Jacob only chuckled. “I wouldn’t go there right now.” He said cryptically, guessing that only would make her ask more questions, or be even more determined to look inside. “Seriously, don’t.” |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 24, 2015 12:45:50 GMT 2
Body in the
Valeria, he believed that was her name. The woman staying here while her husband was gone, god knows where. Such an innocent sheep laying and living calmly between the tigers and sharks of the Bianchi family. She had ties with them by family marriage, or so he understood. It surprised him deeply that she would even want to be here. Did her mind even comprehend what the Bianchi did most of the time? It was probably too late for her now anyway, she had signed an invisible contract, a contract to the devil called Bianchi that will track you down and bring you to hell if you do not do as said or attempt to run away. Poor sheep, taken its freedom when there was so much to do when you had power and money.
A job that required having his hands stained in blood. He wasn't the house butcher, or at least not the conventional one. He was the backstage, doing the dirty job no one else wanted and getting his hands dirty for any reason the Bianchi gave him. But she didn't have to know that, no one asked of him to tell her everything he was or what he did. Though he could see she could possibly be the curious type. Curiosity gets you killed most of the time. The gas mask man wanted to scatter away, leave the place like he probably should have at first instead of letting 'curiosity' drag him forward. At least he wasn't a complete idiot and probably knew Bishop couldn't do anything to him now. No orders, no blood spilled. He didn't see the man's eyes behind the mask, but he could feel her was receiving an interesting look from the mercenary. He shot him one last cold glare before erasing him completely from his sight, turning his full attention on Valeria. He could leave, it won't matter because he'll come back.
Hungry little bird, hopping around the kitchen to fetch something to fill her small stomach. Bishop did not move from the front of the cooler, his arms crossed as she moved from place to place, looking for something. Soon it was revealed that she wanted eggs, and she asked if any of the two knew where they were, Bishop's mouth remained cold shut. It wasn't his job to know where ingredients were. He wasn't the house butcher, that didn't change in the few minutes span. But now she wanted to get inside the cooler to look for some stupid eggs. He looked at her as she came closer, but the masked man was already trying to keep her innocence. Honestly, Bishop was no one to forbid her to see a passed out man in a cooler, and he didn't receive any orders that this was something that had to remain a secret. So he shot yet another glare at the masked man before simply opening the cooler and going inside himself. It was opened large enough to see the body of a man moving slightly and grunting on a wet, blood stained floor. Bishop sent him a kick in the face to send him back to sleep on his way to the shelves with all the food.
The man came out a minute later with four eggs in his large hands. He shut the cooler door behind him with a kick of his foot, the metal rattling on the rims of the frame as it collided. He took a pan from one of the hangers and just sat the three eggs inside it before letting the pan on the counter, all four eggs unharmed. "Have a nice breakfast." he walked back to the counter closest to the door and leaned against it, letting bloody footprints on the floor as he did. He crossed his arms and looked at the woman, wondering if she would dare ask for anything else from the cooler, or if she even saw what was inside. Didn't matter much, but it would be nice to know what kind of guts this woman was made of for future reference.
COOLER |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Dec 24, 2015 17:25:00 GMT 2
 Valeria had her gaze fastened on the broad shouldered man for a moment. She believed she hadn't heard his name before. The first thing her husband or the family did wasn't to introduce all the people who worked here for her. It wasn't her business at all really. In the big picture she was nothing more than a cousin's wife. If she wanted to satisfy her curiousity she would have to dig herself or simply ask her husband. If only he was home. Shaun was also a man she might ask, that if she ever found him at home. The man was always out with women, in his club or simply doing work. There were many moments she doubt her own ability to judge. The day she accepted to marry Ferruccio she hadn't expected him to be away all the time. She hadn't expected to sit in this huge mansion alone.
It appeared that it was hard for this men to give her any sorts of answers. Could she really expect more? Both having their secret jobs, which both (she assumed) involed to clean up or sort out the mess. (By that torture/murder) Imagine that, a regular morning these days meant walking around with murderers asking if anyone knew where the eggs where. Amusing wasn't it? Back on the subject, she turned to Jacob as he suggested she didn't walk in, she rose a brow curiously. "Come mai?(Why)" She simply asked, but before the masked man would have the chance to answer the other had already opened the cooler and stepped in. "You know I coul-" She didn't get to finish her sentence before Val fell silent over what she saw inside the cooler. She wasn't scared, the sight was such a sudden surprise. She had prepared herself that she would have to see such a sight one day. A man tied up to a chair, his face so ruined that it was almost impossible to recognize but still it was a shock to her to see it. It took her so by surprise because she had not expected them to bring the work to the cooler of the kitchen... Nonetheless were they kept most of their food.
When the man kicked the man in the face Valeria would furrow her brows and bit the inner side of her underlip. She did not want to be in his possition. "Oh god, ma per carita’!(for heavens sake)" She spoke even before she got to think. Originally she did not want to show any sort of weakness when it cames to matters like this. Yes it was awful, but she had accepted that things like these could happen the day she married into the Bianchi. Valeria looked at the stains that followed the man as he came back out from the cooler with some eggs. For some reason the stains was the only thing she focused on. Maybe it was a way to process what was happening on the other side of that door. "Che macello! (What a mess!) What did the floor do to you?" She asked him, she was thankful for the eggs, but it was not her focus at that very moment. "
Perché diavolo hai portato il tuo lavoro in cucina? (why the hell did you bring your work in the kitchen?)" Valeria spoke with her jaw tensed due to her annoyance. Her words were spoken quickly and none of the two did probably understand anything of what she had just said, and she had no interest in translating either. She just looked at the man with a raised brow and a hand on her hip, waiting for an explanation. (Like he had understood what she said.)
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Bianchi
Demisexual
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32
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Jul 9, 2016 13:54:32 GMT 2
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Post by Jacob Pierce on Dec 26, 2015 23:45:15 GMT 2
A bloody sandwich and a body in the cooler It was a battle of wills almost. The Italian who had everything to prove, and a brick wall with a taste for torture. Jacob could only watch as they stared at each other, until Valeria decided to ignore all the danger an make herself food. And as she ignored Jacob’s warnings to stay away from the cooler, he could just shrug unbothered, not his problem if she want to traumatize herself. The big guy was even nice enough to go and fetch the eggs himself, Jacob was genuinely impressed, he’d think the man would be delighted in see the woman’s reaction. Still, sudden nice intentions or no, she was still stubborn and had to look inside. Overall, she reacted quite well to the beaten up man inside, no screams in panic, surprise, certainly, but not fear or disgust, curious. He couldn’t see inside the cooler from where he standing by the kitchen’s door, but the big guy must’ve done something that made the Valeria start talking in Italian, he couldn’t understand it, but it sounded quite angry, he thought she was complaining about the body, but to his surprise, she switched back to English to complain about…. The floor?? Priorities much? He supposed it could be a defense mechanism, ignore the obvious distress source by focusing on something minor, or maybe she was more like him and the big guy than he initially thought, the dirty floor was really the more pressing matter. It was an awfully nice floor, leaving messes like that inside was really poor taste. At any case, he had nothing else to do here, his curiosity was satisfied, and now the man’s focus was on the Bianchi woman, a perfect moment to silently leave, like nothing happened at all. He turned his back to the due, leaving them to their floor arguing, his footsteps silent enough that it would be difficult to pinpoint exactly when he decided to leave, unless someone saw him, not by fear that someone would stop him, but he didn’t see a point in saying anything to anyone. And so, Jacob left the Bianchi manor with no further word. |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 27, 2015 14:06:01 GMT 2
Body in the
The woman's reaction to everything was...interesting. He would have expected anyone perfectly normal to put a hand in front of their mouth and find themselves speechless. Not with this Bianchi. Nope, that one didn't even seem to be that bothered by the body in the cooler, the man soaked in water and his own blood. The hot water had been steaming slightly for the past few minutes, mostly off of the man, but now it had started to crystallize on his clothes. That cooler was obviously a little too cold for food to simply stay fresh. Much like Bishop himself, the woman's priority wasn't to complain about the half dead man on the floor, but for some other first world problem, like how the cooler was too cold for the vegetables. Stains, blood stains on the floor and on Bishop's clothes, that's what Valeria seemed to be worried about. What was she, some sort of over the top maid with an obsession for cleaning?! Bishop looked at her with a slight frown as she started yelling at him in Italian. So she's that type of woman, the type that lets her original tongue take over when she was too high on emotions. All those Italians and their speaking, always need to rub their language in your face when you least want it. Lucky for Bishop, he had taken the time to learn some Italian on his side. He wouldn't be able to understand everything, but he was able to understand the global sentence of the woman's sentences. She was so tiny and delicate, it surprised him that she wasn't closing her mouth more and was ready to stand up to him for something as ridiculous as blood stained floors. It'll wash off in one sweep of a mop woman.
As in her last sentence she asked him why he brought his job here, Bishop caught out of the corner of his eye that the masked man was slowly slipping away. He would take long strides in his direction, grab him by the collar of his clothes and raise him over the floor to drop a heavy punch in his masked face. That's what Bishop would have done if he had something against Jacob Pierce, but none of it happened, because there were no orders placed yet. So he ignored the departure of the man to keep looking at Valeria, sentencing in his head a few Italian words to answer her. "Chiudi la bocca donna fastidiosi!" (shut your mouth pesky woman) since she didn't seem like she was ready to simply leave or start making her eggs quietly, Bishop took out his phone to call a few men that were usually in charge of cleaning up his mess and returning that idiot of a beat up man to his employer. Those men did not fret away from the job, getting there in no time to retrieve the man from the cooler after Bishop indicated him to them. They were gone in two minutes. The floors were still stained however, it wasn't their job to clean that up.
As soon as they were gone he walked back into the cooler and came out with a bucket and a mop. He silently filled the bucket with some hot water, adding some simple dish soap inti it before removing the bucket from under the faucet. He dropped the bucket at Valeria's feet, water splattering around its container, making the floor slippery and starting to soften the edges of the dried out blood shoe marks on the floor. The large man then took the mop and handed it over to Valeria. Was Bishop thinking too highly of himself to think he could order around a Bianchi family member? No, he was angry and this was his way of pacifying.
COOLER |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Jan 2, 2016 19:22:22 GMT 2
Valeria did not even notice at first that Lupo swiftly fled the kitchen. Her own focus was placed on the man infront of her, and what just ahd happened. First thing first, there was a man in the cooler which was beaten half to death. Second, Bishop here just stood there like nothing, leaving blood everywhere and third, judging by the look of the man that had been inside and the frost on his clothes, it was way to cold inside that cooler for the eggs and other vegatables. The last thing, which were the main reason for her frustration was his silence.... How was it possible to not say a single word, in an occasion like this? Why did he not burst out in anger, or shout back at her. Valeria was so confused and frustrated she didn't know where to go, what to do or simply what to say.
After something that seemed like an eternity, yet was probably nothing longer than a couple of minutes. The man's back up had already been in the cooler and got rid of the 'garbage' that he had left inside. Valeria's gaze hadn't moved from his face at all since he had opened that door, but when his men carried the limp body out she couldn't help herself and had to watch. Her head turning to the side as she watched until they dissapeared behind the door. What now? What happened now? Where did they take the body? What would happen to it? And what would this broud shouldered man do now as the two were left a lone in the kitchen?
It didn't take long before the latter were answered. The man suddenly turned and walked back into the cooler, yet it didn't take long for him to return with a bucket and a mop. At first she crossed her hands satisfied that he had realized the mess and would clean up after himself. At least he didn't get the maids or his men to do it. Valeria opened her mouth to say something but stopped as he leant the mop to her and almost threw the bucket infront of her feet. She jumped back as he did, so the water wouldn't spill all over herself. "No Manache! (Hell no.) This is your pasticcio (Mess). Tua madre non funzionano qui. Il vostro pasticcio, è ripulire. (Your mother don't work here. Your mess, you clean up.) Your mess, you clean up." The last part of her sentence she made sure to repeat so that he would sure understand what she meant. Valeria would not be the one to clean up this mess, and certainly not by his order. Yes she was not a high ranked Bianchi, she only carried the name, but she was not a maid, and she would not take orders from this man. One day her italian pride are bound to kill her that was certain, but there where matters she feared more than this one.
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 3, 2016 1:23:21 GMT 2
Body in the
The woman and her Italian words were, truly, annoying. What was she trying to accomplish by using them? Hope that he won't understand a thing and let it slide? Try to assert some sort of dominance over him because she could speak Italian, which proved she could claim she was a true Bianchi? All the Bianchi did the same thing, use their oh so glorified Italian every time they could or wanted, as if to remind the world who they were. It was ridiculous and useless. The kitchen had fallen quiet after the woman spoke, clearly not willing to simply take the mop and shut up about it. The man let the mop fall into the bucket of water, splashing some of it on the floor once more. There were a few ways to go about this. He could cowardly walk away and get on with his own business, like take a shower, sleep a little more before getting up to find find his next victim. Or he could be the cold and un-moving man he was and remain there like Valeria wasn't even there, complaining. People always came to clean after his mess, he wasn't worried one bit about the mess he left behind him, he never was and it wasn't going to be today that his worry would start.
Of course Valeria wasn't simply going to agree to what he was giving her to do. She was stubborn and believed he had no right to give her orders, that was surely what she thought. Behind those innocent blue eyes, there was a woman with some steel. Or perhaps she was just plain stupid, who knew. And despite the fact that Bishop wasn't allowed to touch her, hurt her or do anything without her consent, the man was truly starting to boil at the sight of that hot headed woman. He wished he could shut her up straight, get her to just go away or do what he gave her to do. He couldn't unleash any steam against her, a shame and a source of frustration he will not hesitate to direct at something or somebody else. He took a step forward towards the 'lady', looking at her face with the wish of squeezing that pretty face between his fingers, to feel the flesh move until he could see it become red then blue. But he did nothing, simply looking while one of his hands reached for the mop. He wasn't going to comply to her orders, but it seemed like she had something against a dirty mess. Maybe she was OCD? That would be so great, so he could get back at her everyday by making her life a living hell with details no one but her would see. Ideas were nice, but acting was better, and he soon couldn't hold back kicking the bucket along with the mop inside against the nearest wall. Again, a mess someone else will have to clean up.
He reached in his back pocket to get out a thick black cigar from a thin metal box. He bit the slimmer part off and spat it somewhere before fetching a lighter from his other pocket. A nice smoke right now would be welcome. He lit it calmly, sucking on the cigar as puffs of smoke slowly escaped his nose. Once lit, he took the time to take a long sip before exhaling it all, looking at Valeria with a cold glare. Some had called Bishop a misogynist in the past, and because of some of his actions, he couldn't truly deny that trait. However he could recognize a woman's superiority when it was there, obvious and standing in front of him. But Valeria Bianchi had no strength to him, nothing in her inspired him to obey her orders or her whinny words. With a spiteful tone he replied to her Italian words with a nice Australian accent he had nearly erased from his vocabulary. "If you aren't happy with the mess, clean it yourself. The Bianchi have maids for cleaning and princesses to lay in bed and beg for attention." he started to walk away, with the intention of leaving the kitchen to head to the gardens and get some fresh air. Ironic, given he was polluting his lungs with tabaco.
COOLER |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Jan 23, 2016 10:00:41 GMT 2
Images of the man in the cooler had began to flash in Valerias mind. The frozen skin, the wounds that was colored in most colors from yellow to black. The damp that osed from his body, probably due to his bodytemperature amazingly enough still being warmer than the cooler itself. The italian blinked with her eyes and moved her gaze back to the man who still hadn't said a single word except the comment about the eggs. How could he be so quiet? However when she spoke italian it seemed to have a somewhat reaction, a small furrow between his brows, only for seconds. Either did he actually understand what she said, or maybe even made him frustrated? Valeria usually spoke italian whenever she was angry, frustrated or didn't know the words in english. She was a slow learner when it came to language, she could understand others, but to use the words herself was something she struggled with. She was to proud of her orgins to fully let it go.
She had become gravely annoyed when her had brought the mop over to her, like she was suppose to clean up after him! It was not how she had grown up to learn. This ws simple etique that you clean your own mess. Valeria didn't like calling the maids for them to clean. If she spilled something or found something that no one had cleaned up she would do it herself, that only if the person responsible wasn't there anymore, or if the mess was the like the normal sorts, like food, drink or whatever garbage or anything that the person had left. But bloodstains and a body was too far. She would not be the one to clean up.
Valeria got interupted by her thoughts when the man suddenly took a step closer to her, howering over her small frame. Her jaw tensed, her breath stillned for a second and she met his gaze, trying to read his thoughts. What would he do? Would he finally speak? Was this a threat? (Sure looked like one). His eyes screamed of the wish to do something to her, wich she assumed was to knock her down or anything, he was probably searching for ways he could harm her without upsetting the Bianchi, finding loopholes. Valeria didn't even notice his hand as it reached for the mop, not until he kicked the bucket to the side so it hit the wall and all the water would spill over the floor. Only then did she manage to rip her gaze from his deep dark eyes. "Seriously..." Now her voice was rather stated and her shoulder sank a little. At this point she was so frustrated and almost upset. She wanted to hit him, scream at him and cry at the same time, but instead she fell silent.
When he took out a sigar and began preparing it Valeria rolled her eyes. Her anger boiling inside her once again. This man... what.. it seemed like it was simply nothing she could do about him... nothing at all. She placed a hand on her side and stared at him with an ice cold blue stare as he exhaled the smoke. Her jaws tensing as she could scent the smoke coming up her nose. 'Oh so he can talk...' her brows rose as he had spoken. At first because of his voice and accent, it all was such dominating, then when his sentence was over and he had insulted her once again her brows furrowed, there was nothing that could stop her now. When he turned to walk away she swiftly walked around him reached for his sigar and threw it away, aiming at the sink. Gladly it hit. "I see you think the rules apply to you then? You are the one expecting others to clean up YOUR mess, to clean up YOUR faults. YOU are apparently the princess you are talking about laying on the bed, comanding others to do most of your work becaue I DO NOT use the maids, I DO NOT lay in my bed commanding others, I do everything myself, I have to. So do not come here and call me a princess and walk away without letting me defend myself." She had walked up close to the man, her cold gaze illuminated by anger fastened at his as she threw the words at him. When she was done she simply took a deep breath and quietly stood there. Valeria's blood rushed through her veins in high speed, what would happen now? Had she stepped into her own grave? It was only for time to see. One thing was sure, she would not step away from this without a fight.
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 23, 2016 16:06:55 GMT 2
He could point out the clench in her jaw, the dilation of her iris, the quiver of her lips, and the immobility of her breath for the split second it lasted. It was something he found forever fascinating; the way your body betrays you without your consent when emotions get the best of the situation. There's not always something you can do about it, most of the time you are your own victim, prey to your subconscious and instincts. Though there is one thing that walks against instinct for some people, and that was exactly what was keeping Valeria from keeping her mouth shut and dealing with the situation in a pacific way, in the way that was more reasonable.
She had guts, there was no doubt about that. As Damian walked away towards the exit, having in mind to blow out his own steam through his nose, expiring tabaco and pressure like a steaming train coming at a stop in winter. But he was denied that pacific way of dealing with all this by a raging little mouse who seemed determined to prove something. What was it she wanted to prove exactly was not known to him. But he assumed it was something along the lines of: You have no right to talk this way to me. It didn't matter to him who you were in this Bianchi family, or how much money you have, nor does it matter how much of a dickhead you were, all Bianchi were the same to Bishop. They were his employers, they were paying him to protect them and do their bidding. They weren't paying him to take ethic classes or to learn to be a gentleman. And as long as he receives that money, he won't harm any member of the family physically. No one said anything about verbally threatening or persecuting.
He felt the familiar texture of the cigar leave the gap between his lips, flying away towards the sink. His eyes flashed towards the Italian woman, opened wider with anger in them, his chest slowly rising as she started to pour on him the content of her thoughts. The point of being a Bianchi bodyguard, was that you heard so much more than mostly anyone else around. You pick up information people never think you pick up, you start to create folders in your mind, cautiously putting labels on all of them and ordering it all at the end of the week. He knew more on this woman than half of the people here, simply because he was somewhere at a specific moment and time to hear a specific information. Her husband had been away for too long, and she thinks she must act tough to survive in this world where the meek cannot fight the strong. Her money is her power, not her body. Maybe someone should remind her of that someday.
However today wouldn't be the day he gently tells her to go count her money instead of working out. No today she had hit his spine bone, his nerve wrecker, and he wasn't going to be any type of kind, gentle, delicate man in this moment. His face did not change, anger still flashing in his eyes as he grabbed Valeria by the jaw, walking forward until her back was against the nearest wall. He then pressed his fingers between the gap of her jaw, putting in his fingers to grab her tongue between his index and thumb, firmly gripping the flesh. "Do what happens in a mafia to people who talk too much? We kill them, or cut their tongue out!" his voice rose at his last words. He was barely able to contain the snarl on his face, raging against that woman for being so fucking stubborn and pompous. He added in a lower tone, his eyes burning. "Now stop assuming you know everything. Listen, watch and learn or you won't live very long to understand you've made more than one mistake today." this was an advice, not an actual threat even though it sounded a lot like one. He let go oh her tongue and took a step back, removing his hand from her jaw, only to realize he had been holding her rather tightly. He walked to retrieve his cigar in the sink, wondering if that woman would dare speak again or not.
There's a body in the cooler watch your back, so you aren't the next |
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Jan 27, 2016 21:52:48 GMT 2
Valeria's chest rose and fell as she inhaled or exhaled. The whole world went silent for something that felt like hours, which probably was just seconds. After her rage of words had rolled out of her mouth she hadn't dared to move, the only thing she had done was to breathe. When her ice blue gaze met his dark ones, she didn't dare to move them, she could swear his eyes became darker than they already were. She feared that if she moved a muscle that she would collapse and die, right there and then.
Before Valeria even got to think a thought more, his hand was locked around her jaw. It gripped her in such a sudden move that a suffocated scream, more like a gasp escaped her lips. The man used his own strenght and wait to push her backwards, until the surface of her back hit the wall behind her. They way he held her head made her have to stand on the tip of her toes if she weren't to hurt her neck badly. His next move was disgusting and unexpected. He pressed his dirty fingers in her mouth and gripped her tongue. His grip was so tight she was affraid that if she somehow managed to break lose, he'd just rip it out, making truth of his words. A quick reaction to his action was to grip his wrists. She placed both her arms on the wrist of the one that he used to hold her arm. What where to happen next? would he kill her? She was sure of it, that her temper had killed her.
Why did she need to be so stubborn? Why did her pride mean so much to her? was questions that ran through her mind as Bishop spoke. It almost felt like his grip grew tighter as he spoke, like he was only moments away. Valeria swallowed when Bishop finished his words, almost like a way to say that she understood. She had gotten his message, though she hadn't got every detail. But she did understand that she had crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. She had dared to hit his nerve, if others heard them, maybe even humiliated him. When he finally loosened his grip and stepped away Val gasped and released her grip on his hands, only to move her hands to her jaw. She still stood against the wall, watching his back as he walked to the sink to retrieve the sigar she had thrown. She did not dare to speak at this very moment. Her jawline was sore, and so was her tongue, she didn't doubt that her skin would be all blue and purple within a few minutes. What was she supposed to do now? She dared not to speak, and she could not flee the room either like a little girl who got whipped by her dad. No, would not do that. She simply stood there in silence, awaiting his next move and trying to be as small as possible. |
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Bianchi
Danger Zone!
Sexuality
Bodyguard/Mercenary
Occupation
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5suns
Offline
Jul 13, 2016 22:37:38 GMT 2
GMT +1
Tag me @bishop
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 30, 2016 13:49:25 GMT 2
She did not speak, nor move her lips in a silent Italian swear. Bishop looked at her from the sink he was standing next to, his cigar in his hand, pressed between his fingers as he held it near his collarbone. His blue eyes searched Valeria' frame, as if asking himself if she would collapse here and now before his eyes or wait for him to be gone. At least she seemed to understand his message clearly enough. He did not care if he was going to get any type of punishment for this. If he and her were to live under the same roof, there had to be an understanding of personal space and living habits. He stuck the tip of his cigar between his lips, taking out a lighter from his pocket, igniting his stress reliever with a timid flame. He slid the lighter back into his pocket, sucking on the cigar to put ablaze the embers, smoke escaping his nose while his eyes moved from the tip of the object to Valeria.
He had nothing else to do here, nor did he intend to do anything more. The maids would soon come to clean up his mess. He thought of taking a bottle of bear before he left, but remembered the Bianchi didn't really fashion those easy drinks. He walked towards the door, passing in front of Valeria as he did so but without stopping. He reached the door frame and walked across the hallway to get to the gardens, letting the fresh air of the morning engulf him while ironically smoking his lungs in with burned tabaco.
There's a body in the cooler watch your back, so you aren't the next |
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