Post by Eric Matthew Van Alstyne on Nov 28, 2014 2:19:49 GMT -6
There were, contrary to popular opinion, nights when Eric Van Alstyne stayed in, when he managed to find some way to occupy himself, usually by freewriting in the study adjacent to his room, at home. However, those nights were certainly nowhere near as frequent as the nights in which he went out. The nights he went out were like nothing else he experienced in his life. There were women and booze and… everything that he shouldn’t want to have, but everything that still somehow did. That was how he found himself leaning against the bar, walking with some of his best chums from his school days, with a gorgeous brunette tucked up next to her. She was a pretty young thing, with dark, luxurious black hair that shone like silk and icy blue eyes… just his type, and it appeared he was hers, if the way she looked up at him as if she was bashful about absolutely everything was any indication. In fact, he was fairly certain that he had seen her bite her lip and blush more than once, and her eyes seemed only to drift up as far as his lips, at least, most of the time.
Her eyes rose and caught his, and a slow smile curled across his lips as he pulled her tighter to him, leaning down to murmur a few words in her ear, making her smile and giggle as she slid her hand gently against the lapel of the suit he was wearing. However, he did not yet lean down and claim those luscious, cherry red lips with his own, marking her as his. What the hell was stopping him? His friends were certainly asking him the question with his eyes, but whether it was because he was secretly bashful, a laughable idea to most of his friends, or he was just unwilling to take the first girl of the night home… Well he certainly wasn’t saying one way or the other. That didn’t, however, stop him from brushing his fingers over the small of her back, smirking down at her in a way that suggested there was so much more to come… or there would be, had a distraction not come in the form of a yelling redhead who had made herself known in probably the loudest manner she could. Eric raised his eyebrow at her. She was a pretty thing, tiny at just under a full foot shorter than he was, with wide eyes and an innocent face that didn’t quite match her authoritative air and her harsh words.
Then again, maybe he was just used to his brother.
Either way, he just couldn’t deny that she was… intriguing. “Sorry, love.” His voice held a rather confusing mixture of French and English roots, all watered down by the fact that he had grown up in New York. “But, for the record… I’m no drugstore cowboy.” Signaling the bartender, who slid two, new drinks at him, which Eric took, one in each hand, leaving his half-finished on the bar. Pushing off the bar, he moved forward, taking a moment to look her over rather quickly. He didn’t stop until he had nudged one of the girls out of his way, whose name he had not bothered to learn, and was standing directly in front of the tiny woman, standing almost a foot taller than she was. Reaching forward, he held out both of the glasses to her, one for each her and her sister, which a quick glance over her shoulder had told him that she was just as beautiful, and as sassy if the way she had glared back at him was any indication, as she was, with a daring look in his eyes. “What’s all this rush about, anyways? A girl pretty as you could have gotten a drink from any fella in this bar easy.” Him included, apparently, though he wasn’t quite above buying a beautiful dame a drink every now and again if it meant keeping her happy. And her attention on him. Especially if he got to take her home at the end of the night, though he suspected that wasn’t quite the case with this fiery girl.
Still, he found that he… didn’t quite want her to leave just yet. How had he not seen this girl before? Unless, of course, she wasn’t exactly a regular… though somehow he doubted it, given the ease that she navigated the crowd despite her tiny size. Looking down at her, he smiled and continued holding the drinks out to her, half-hoping that she wouldn’t take them. Not that it mattered. If she didn’t, there was always another dame, like the girl he had just had his arm around only a moment ago, her curves pressed against his body~ Why had he let her go?