nevermore_logs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO: UK George & Lust
WHEN: Friday night
WHERE: George's place, restaurant
WHAT: Date night!
WARNING: Lust so all the warnings.

Lust wore a classic black dress for her date with George. He was a Saint so she figured too much exposure might make his brain explode. The dress looked classy enough except when you took into account the fact it was nearly backless with a nice low neckline, and a slit up the side till her thigh. Plus there was a good chance she wasn't wearing underwear because she saw it more as dress up for the boudoir than an every day necessity. She never wore perfume because her natural scent was intoxicating. Her hair was wavy and lush and she looked like any man would be lucky to have her on his arm tonight.

When George finally would open the door, Lust held up a bouquet of roses with a smile that could pass for devilish or sweet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lust picked up her glass of wine, a seductive smile on her lips, "I've never really needed to talk." she took a sip and asked casually, "Would you like to be the first?"

"No, I don't think I would," George said. "Wrath was always my sin of choice. Or pride. And I try to avoid both."

"Well, I'm glad you don't try to avoid me." she smiled, intrigued and amused, "From what I can tell, you just try to deny me. It's cute."

"You would try to deny you too, if you had to deal with the fallout of royal affairs," George said. He went quiet as the waiter arrived to take their order. Once they were alone again, he said, "You would think being dead would give them perspective. Not the case."

"I really wouldn't." she loved herself, she was amazing. If she wasn't herself she'd want to fuck herself. Well, it was why she slept with Greed, it was the closest thing to it.

After their order she looked at him, "You're not royal, you don't have affairs, you're not dead. And you don't have perspective either." she didn't want to talk about anything that didn't concern him directly. "Why don't you have sex?"

"Because I don't like one night stands," George said. "A few hours of intimacy and then nothing is not what I want."

"That isn't what I asked. You can have sex with friends, someone you care about, a co-worker, sex in relationships, dating, marriage, because it's Tuesday. Sex in general isn't a Sin. You. Don't. Have. Any." she eyed him curiously, "Why?"

"Because I have no one to have it with," George said, taking a long drink of his wine and looking out the window.

"By choice." she sipped her wine, "What about this last woman, the infamous thirty years ago one? What made her special enough for you to take a risk?"

"She knew who I was," George said. "And she understood that I couldn't give her a normal life, and she was all right with that for a while. It's hard and painful to date humans, Lust, and I don't trust most other people like me."

She sighed, "I know. They're so fragile." she looked at him, "So what do you have to keep you warm on cold nights? Memories of her lips.. Kisses on your neck.. do you even remember how good it feels to have a woman's touch..?" the tips of her fingers touched the hand that wasn't cradling his wine, the skin underneath warming almost immediately. "The way her skin feels against yours?" her fingers brushing upwards slowly.

"Stop," he said, yanking his hand away. A little calmer, he repeated, "Stop. I have no desire to be a saintly notch on your bedpost."

Lust looked amused but there was a dangerous glint in her eye, "George.. if I wanted you just as a notch on my bedpost.. you'd be handcuffed to it." she had the ability to do it and she was a Sin, she didn't care about rules but she hadn't.

She shrugged, tickled that he got so riled up with literally just a finger. "I actually like you, is that so hard to believe? Or is more that you don't want to believe it." because that would change things and he knew it.

"I don't find threats very endearing," George said tersely. "And you don't know anything about me."

"It's not a threat, it's a fact." Lust saw a clear distinction, she didn't know what was wrong with George. "You're English, stuffy, repressed, sexy, practically virginal, hate Dickslayer, and remind me of my husband. I know enough."

George pinched the bridge of his nose and said, with deliberate patience, "You have a husband?"

Lust swished the wine in her glass and corrected quietly, "Had."

"I'm sorry," George said. noting the change in her mood. "Divorce or...something less savory?"

Lust flicked her green eyes to his, "My brother killed him."

"I'm sorry," George said. Hesitating slightly, he reached out and patted her hand. "When did it happen?"

She gave him an odd look, "Why do you keep saying that? Did you kill him?" she didn't like the idea of a Saint pitying her. Touching her hand was like touching a live wire even if it was just for a quick pat. "Almost 200 years ago. He'd have been dead by now anyway."

"It's called empathy," George said. A little less snarky, he added, "I've watched plenty of mortals I've loved die. Knowing that it would have to happen some day did not make it any easier."

"It's disgusting." she sipped her wine and then nearly choked on it. "Who said I loved him??" she looked simultaneously horrified and insulted. Truth was that Lust was heading in that direction, her husband had loved her very much despite her hellish nature. Greed's jealousy of it was what drove him to kill the man.

George held up his hands like he was fending her off. "Cared for him, tolerated him, whatever you'd prefer. Safe to say you had some sort of fondness for him, if you're comparing me to him to try and get me into bed."

He was doing alright until that last bit. Lust's eyes narrowed into fiery green slits, it was easy to see why she got along with Wrath so well. She stood up and crossed over to him. She sat down right in his lap, not giving him a chance to even avoid it. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? I'm not trying to get you into bed." she pressed the tip of her fingernail under his chin, a slow pleasant warmth already spreading from that point downward. It was literally a fraction of what she could do. She leaned in closer so she could whisper in his ear, "Would you like me to try, George?" He was ruining their date.