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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 2:48:50 GMT
Tony tries hard to fight the little flicker under his arc reactor, that tiny dash of hope. He knows that plans are only made with the expectation of a follow up and he struggles to snuff out that hope. Life has taught him too many times how terrible that single emotion can be to those who least expect it. First the request for a shared drink and now she wants him to play for her.
His fingers twitch, falling into the first notes of that old song as if they think the words on the can are keys. He could play it for her. There may be mistakes because he hasn't touched a piano since his mother's death, not while he was sober. He hopes thinks he can remember it all.
"I can be persuaded to do so." The words are teasing, but his voice lacks the edge. Tony almost sounds sincere. "It's a beautiful piece. Don't go looking for it before I play it for you."
The can rolls between his hands as he watches Des, quiet and curious as she speaks. He follows her tone and the way she phrases her words. Xavier's is a well-known place in the States, with stories and history more twisted and concerning than even Tony's. Despite the good it is meant to do, he knows instinctively that he could never send a child there.
Des's regret only cements that stance. There isn't a shred of pity or remorse in his gaze. Instead, if she meets his eyes, there is only cold understanding. While he hasn't lived her situation, there are parts of it he can relate with.
Tony sets the can down on the countertop, pushes himself to his feet, and walks the few steps over to where Des is perched upon a stool. One hand rests on the table as he eases himself into a crouch to look up at her, expression as gentle as he can manage. It's surprisingly passing thanks to those warm brown eyes. There are so many sentences that he can say, things to insist he relates, or words to ease her pain.
None of them are in his wheelhouse. No, all he knows to offer is physical closeness and an out. His words are pitched low, "Ms. Allard, will you ask me a question?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 3:25:47 GMT
Des watches as his fingers twitch. Yes- now she needs to help him with that song. It is imperative. She would insist on it now if they weren't having such a delightful time baring their scars and his chest for the perusal of them both. If she didn't know any better, she would say he is trying to seduce her- but she does know better, and he isn't. This is just who he is. She can play along, as long as she doesn't get lost in the game. Tony is exactly the man she shouldn't lose herself to.
Des isn't sure when she started thinking of him as Tony instead of Mr. Stark.
"I can make sure it is done without error, as long as you are capable of it," Des says with that prim sniff, though she shares a look with him. It is up to him to see if he can interpret it- she's teasing.
Des does meet his gaze through her story- she regrets it, but she isn't too ashamed. This is who she is, and damn she really thinks she's awesome. "Careful," Des says, a bit sardonic, watching him stand. When he crouches, when he looks up at her, his warm brown eyes melting something that shouldn't be melted... she has to get control again. Quickly.
Des gives him... the most evil of grins. "Why yes, Tony, I think I shall. That means you have to answer two questions, doesn't it?" she says, absolutely reveling in her cleverness. She said she is a cheat.
"What was your mother like?" Des asks, curious about that. Then, she swings out of left field. "What is your perfect day?"
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 4:29:08 GMT
His eyes rest on her evil little smile as it spreads across her lips, relief easing his shoulders. He's walked right into some type of trap, though he isn't quite sure what it is. Then, like the evil mastermind she pretends to be when things get too close to her chest, Des reveals her plan.
Tony bites his bottom lip in a failing attempt to keep his smirk at bay. Yes, a trap indeed. He shakes his head before looking back up at her and lifting one finger in the air.
"Yes, Desiree," he answers with something closer to their playful banter from upstairs. And God, she's Desiree now. "That was a very good first question."
If she insists on cheating, he'll keep finding ways around it.
He tips his head to the side as he thinks over the next two questions, considering which one deserves an answer and knowing she'd likely ask him the one he ignores next. Tony lifts a second finger as he speaks, "My perfect day changes on my mood and the weather. Today, my perfect day would be rearranging my workspace into something more productive with someone willing to stay by my side for more than a few minutes."
The engineer gives her such a soft, sincere smile before he pushes himself back to his feet. Tony wobbles for a moment, catching himself before he can stumble, and sitting down on a stool at her table. He plops his face into his palm, elbow on the table surface as he watches her.
"It's my turn for a question. What do you want to eat?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 19:05:44 GMT
Des gives Tony a pout, but inwardly is happy. Finally, he is catching on. In this game, she always wins. His mother is a hard topic- best left for another night. No need to play too dirty, right? "Damn, you caught me," she says, faking a look of being put out. "Fine, fine..." she mutters. Everyone is so willing to think she is a poor sport than anything else.
When had she become Desiree? She should nip that in the bud, put a line in the sand... but she doesn't really want to. She's more of a carrot than a stick person, after all.
"Lucky for you, I am willing to be here for days, you are rather stuck with me," Des says dryly, shrugging a single shoulder at him, leaning just a bit closer. "I will give you more perfect days," she says, though does not say what kind of perfection she shall bestow upon him.
"Eat? We are in Malibu... It depends on if you want to stay in, or have a night out. If we are staying, something grilled, a complimenting salad, and Potatoes au Gratin. If we are going out... I believe there was a little place called Taverna Tony down the street," Des says, carefully not asking a question.
Until...
"What is success to you?"
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 20:56:24 GMT
His gaze falls to her pout and, oddly, he finds it endearing. He feels a strange urge to see more of it, and he knows that doesn't make any sense. Tony tosses the idea over his shoulder and focuses on the topic at hand. Of course, Des makes that so very difficult as she leans a little closer to him.
That muscle in his jaw dances before he concedes, letting his gaze drop to the tabletop with a grin. "Now, now. Don't go making promises you may not want to keep."
As the conversation shifts to food, Tony rubs a hand across his chin as he weighs his options. His tone is thoughtful now that they are in safer waters.
"Taverna Tony is really good and a gal like you would certainly light up the place." He pushes himself to his feet, mindful not to let himself stumble this time. "I'll need to change out of this or at least button up." He gestures at his shirt uselessly with a shameless grin. "Sorry to deny you the view."
He has the bottommost button in place when she hits him with a question. Tony purses his lips for a moment, buying himself time as he thinks it through. "Success is not giving up. Even if you don't get the result you wanted, you still succeed in finding out how not to get that result. Something about 99 ways to not make a lightbulb?"
"Why did you pick this as your career?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 21:19:26 GMT
"I never promised, and I never said what kind of perfect days. Perfectly torturous, perfectly awful, perfectly relaxing, perfectly boring..." Des says, trailing off in her teasing, letting him fill in the rest of it. She reaches over, about to tweak his nose-
At the last second, she stops herself. With a breath, she draws it all in, everything. Then, and only then, does she follow through in tweaking his nose, he all the safer for it. It doesn't last long, as she lets it all out once more, like a little gasp after holding her breath.
"I assure you, all the attention will be on me," Des says, pursing her lips in her self satisfied way. She takes that free hand and vogues. "You may take the view, but you cannot take the memory, mon lumière," she sings, her voice a perfect, clear sound. Of course it is.
Des likes his answer. This is a common theme she has to know about her clients. If they don't feel successful, her job is a failure. His is easily accomplished, she is already pushing him into looking at the future. Long term, not short term. Damn, she loves her job.
"Yes, that is the saying. Edison," Des answers him, that evil grin back. Oh, she's going to milk that question. "I mean, I am perfect for it, it is perfect for me. I like it. It changes month to month, I like that even more. I get to see the world, have expensive things, fuck creative people, rub elbows with the most powerful minds on this earth, be generally fantastic, set my own hours, work with who I want to...
"I love it. Most moments, at least. Sometimes, I feel used. That people aren't hiring me for me, but the rush they can get from my proximity and my body," Des says, shrugging dismissively.
"So. Two questions.... since you asked me two," Des says cheekily. "When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?"
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Post by Nomz on Sept 1, 2024 22:54:14 GMT
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows in response to her teasing. Words tie themselves into neat bows on his tongue as she reaches out to tweak his nose of all things. He doesn't even have the will to lean back, letting her touch him. Trusting her not to destroy him yet.
"You make it seem like there is anything else to see when you're around," he teases back effortlessly and slowly keeps buttoning his shirt. "Glad to know I've made such an impression that you'll remember it."
Tony is nearly done when she mentions fucking creative people and he can't help the errant thought of what counts as creative. Surely, engineering in its own right is a creative process. Perhaps she meant sculptors? Though, Tony's hands are certainly skilled and calloused enough to match.
"Singing. Mmm. That's a hard one." Tony slowly pulls down his sleeves, trying to straighten them before deciding it is a useless task. He shoves them back up carelessly. "If you ask nicely, I'll sing for you. That way, I can answer the question in one fell swoop."
"Honestly, I don't remember the last time I sang to someone or myself. Maybe I never have." He claps his hands once and gestures towards the door. "May I take you to dinner?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 1, 2024 23:12:27 GMT
Des rolls her eyes, then with that same breath holding, that same pulling in, she quickly fixes his sleeves. Her cheeks puff a little as she concentrates on something that is anathema to her, as well as fixing this idiot's shirt. Once she is done, he has perfectly rolled sleeves, and she takes a step back. It was longer this time, and a gush of her power exudes from her. It isn't as powerful as the one at the start of their meeting, but perhaps enough to make Tony sputter.
"Sorry, you looked absolutely stupid," Des says in apology, shrugging. "It would distract people from me," she adds, pursing her lips a little. She doesn't comment on his little quip, brushing past it entirely.
"I shall have to practice asking nicely, then," Des says sweetly, her attitude on full blast now. She seems to be pulling together a persona, something more haughty and confident now that she is going in public. "Don't worry, Mr. Stark. I can fix that," she says, smiling wickedly as he confesses he can't remember the last time he sang. He doesn't know it yet, but she is going to take him to karaoke. He needs to live a little. Remind him what he is fighting for.
"Why yes, Mr. Stark, you may," Des says, pulling her hair up perfectly into a clip. "I am paying, however. Hate to give anyone any impressions. Come along," she says, grabbing her bag and going towards the exit as if she's already moved in.
"See you soon, Jarvis~"
END THREAD
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