no regrets.

Missing first part of this scene. Vast comes upon Evelyn in nightclub. Illicit smoochies occur.

__

J.

Sun 06:56AM CST

And suddenly, at that precise moment: Vast's cell phone begins to ring. Of
course, it wouldn't be initially heard: the vibrations of the thing mere further
enticement (--all the right pock... err, places) but if it is noticed, then the
name in the LCD display would be readily familiar. In a word it signals...


Evelyn 'Evie' Bryant

Sun 07:00AM CST

She doesn't expect the kiss. But then again, she's also been craving it since
she first laid eyes on him. So while there's a modicum of shock as she's pressed
against his hard body, her softness yealding to into him, she doesn't draw back.
In fact, if anything, she kisses him back harder, roughly. Sinking her sharp
little teeth into his lower lip just enough to begin to resemble pain. And
there's a very faint whimper building in her throat as the music continues to
throb, her heart continues to race against his chest and Evie--Gives in to her
desire.

Vast

Sun 07:04AM CST

The kiss goes on.
And on.
And on.

He's not a gentle kisser. He's not even very considerate, for fuck's sake. He
kisses her like he wants to eat her alive, devouringly, open-mouthed,
close-eyed, tooth and tongue, stripping her bare to the soul.

And then.
Just like that.

He draws back, pulls away, disengages from her on the dance floor, the sole
point of stillness in the turning world -- and in an easy motion retrieves, and
flips open, his cell phone.

His eyes like clear smoke remain fast on Evie. He speaks into the cell, calmly,
without shouting over the music, and not the slightest bit out of breath: "Oui,
maman."

J.

Sun 07:09AM CST

"Sevastian." He can hear the smile in her voice, as tired as those French
lilting sounds are. Smokey and veiled, a step before slumber - it is easy to
envision the beauty of which this is but a teasing fraction. And that, if he was
another man. And that, if he were his father. As it is, love courses through
those tones, even as that voice rises with the sound in tbe background, "Are
you... where are you? In a club? I've called at a bad time, haven't I?" She does
not bite her lip, not before others - before non-family, but he can imagine the
gesture from the apology in her words. "Just quickly then, we need to talk
tomorrow? I.. we didn't get a chance today because I had to leave. You will be
home, won't you?"

Evelyn 'Evie' Bryant

Sun 07:14AM CST

She doesn't want gentle. She doesn't crave considerate. Her alcohol-ridden mind
can only process basic thoughts. If any. She's operating in Want. Take. Have
mode.

Confused. Aroused. Scared as all hell.

The music's thundering on around her. The dancers around her still shifting,
moving as the lights flash upon writhing forms.

And suddenly..

She's let go. He's pulling away and she takes a step backward to regain her
footing. Her mouth swollen from his rough kisses. Eyes wide and slightly
unfocused. Chest heaving.

She stares at him. Then lifts her fingers to her mouth and presses her palm
against it. The dark eyes shut. Block out the piercing gaze.

"Oh fuck.."

She whispers.

The eyes open, meet his. The attraction burning as alive and ferocious as ever.
And she watches him talk.

Standing there. Enthralled. Bewildered. And looking so damn vunerable. Like a
lamb to the slaughter.

Vast

Sun 07:16AM CST

The conversation for Evie is onesided. "Somewhat. You've caught me in the middle
of something." Pause. "Tomorrow? Yes, I should be."

J.

Sun 07:19AM CST

"Ok, we will talk then." She pauses, hating the sound of the club at his back,
the possible something that he may be involved in. But like at her arrival, her
tongue is held in check - and in this a submission to the grown man he now is.
Sometimes she has trouble recalling when he was but a boy, and only hers. "Bon
nuit, aimé."

The line dies.

Vast

Sun 07:25AM CST

"Oui, aujourd'hui. Bon nuit, maman." The french comes easily to him; it's a
language he's spoken since birth, without thought, a nod to his mother's
nationality and heritage.

After the line goes dead, he claps the flipphone closed and replaces it wherever
it had come from. There's a beat of stillness. Then -- a step forward -- he
takes Evelyn's face between his hands and kisses her again, just as hard, just
as thoroughly, just as hungrily.

Starving wolves have less appetite than this.

When this breaks, he draws away a bare half-inch, his eyes open, but at this
vicinity the only place to look is down. "If you have any regrets, any second
thoughts," damn him for being so cool-eyed, so utterly unperturbed by it all,
"now is the time to voice them."

Evelyn 'Evie' Bryant

Sun 07:32AM CST

She lifts her hands, rubs them over her bare arms and shoulders. A trickle of
sweat slips down her spine. She's rocking back and forth on the black heels.
Heels and jeans? She makes the look work. Right now she looks about half way
between dishevled sex kitten and elegant woman. But the gap is widening quickly
between the two.

As he snaps the mobile shut, she's swinging her golden rope of hair over a
shoulder. And then she's in his arms once more. Her face captured. Lips
plundered. He draws back enough for her to draw breath. Shakily, she does. Her
hands fluttering ineffectively over his arms, shoulders. Hands find his forearms
and use them to stable herself.

The brown eyes meet the cool gray-blue and it's barely a utterance.

"No second thoughts."

Vast

Sun 07:43AM CST

A beat
(of the heart, hammering fast.)

"All right then." Just like that: done deal. He draws away. His hands encircle
her wrists, and then he takes her by the hand and starts off the dance floor
without a glance back at her, her hand firmly caught in his.

Off the dance floor, and out of the club.