The way Vendetta matched him- letting the biscotti soak, swirling it beneath the surface, would make one think she enamoured- but perhaps would be mistaken. Vendetta did as she desired, or did she? With her, like with Jervis, it was never clear. He found it curious, of all the things he said... The one that made her react, 'I need a name for a beautiful face…' Reflexive, a hand reached up, stroking her own skin. As if in disbelief. Surely she had endless envy and declarations of her beauty?.. Intriguing, however, the shocked reaction she gave…
...Beautiful? Jervis found her… beautiful? For one heart-stopping moment, her icy lacquer shattered, judging by the shift in her eyes- they glistened, just a bit- morning dew kissing autumn grass. Whether in delight, or pain, he could not determine- but for sure, her eyes shimmered crystalline.
Of course Vendetta had heard such things before. Tsunamis of affection drowning her over the years recent. But she knew all of it
insincere, none of it genuine. All of them either lusted to possess the shadowy siren, to play with; or they glossed over any real merit, words reflexive to the state of society. Ladies were only desired if they were pretty. Jervis, however, was a creature entirely unlike all others before. The simplicity and sincerity cut through, touching her deepest emotional self. Vendetta seemed in a momentary haze, almost not registering his question. Time enough passed for the Lady to forget her original reason for coming.
Both of them knew this- just as both of them knew he cracked her icy, shape-shifting veneer- even if only a little. Quietly, she replied "Oh, yes...I came initially, seeking your services. You are a Haberdasher, after all. I needed a few things created, whenever you had time- I brought designs, and everything. Initially, this was business. Now, I... I'm not entirely certain anymore."
Vendetta knew Jervis would know what she was talking about. Though almost nothing like his Alice... She was nobody he'd find anywhere- but at the same time, there to fulfill a need; perhaps unspoken desire. Led by instinct- hard to define, intangible, Vendetta came. When she laid eyes upon him, she knew things had changed. None had ever been able to react- past lustful incoherence, full-on fear, or pure hatred- dependent on what they knew of her.
No, he saw her as someone- a real someone. Vendetta wondered if some type of elongated companionship was perhaps what they were paired for; after all, both were deviant, twisted, not right in the mind... Dark to light… ice to fire. She was also the type to glide through time untouched, like he. When her mind hit upon companionship, that felt right... but there was something more. What, she could not say at this time; like a good novel, it would unwind itself.
Very slightly shaky, though with almost-even voice, she finally spoke on. "I hope you don't mind, if we set to business..." Presently, she opened a black leather-bound book she carried, to a set of pages over halfway in. Sliding the book over, it was clear the Lady took great pains to ease
Jervis' work; colour palettes, intricate yet clean designs, multiple
angles... Arcane and artistic- a deadly combination on top of striking
beauty and sharp intelligence. Though the latter half of her statement
hung more prominent over both.
Jervis marvelled at her unsurpassed talent, as if having centuries to develop her skills. The thought brought forth nightmare images; soul-destroying fiends existing only in minds of madness, such as theirs... Studying her and her works, it brought vivid images of a certain type of blood-sucking terror, gliding with elegance through the night... Whispers and mist, rumour dancing only in darkest night... They reminded him, incredibly so, of...
Before his thought could finish, however, the entire train was disrupted by her voice once again. "Hopefully these aren't overly complex. I've been told I can get carried away at times. If they are, we can talk modification." Looking outside to the unforgiving wind and snow, speaking mostly to herself, her mind wandered just a bit- cursing the faintest streaks of coming light.
"Goodness, I missed the hour... I should depart soon; find out where I am, relative to home. That's assuming the snows are passable still... And if not, find a place to pass this over..."
She finished her tea. Vendetta didn't want to leave; she rather liked Jervis. Piercing anxiety hit her- one he could almost see; what if he just wanted her gone? Cast back to unforgiving light... In her madness, the lacquer fell away- revealing an undercurrent of emotion. Tension filled her, spearheaded by the thought she merely an intrusion, one he wished would leave him to his peace. She felt an involuntary shiver, but- perhaps wisely, perhaps foolishly- kept silent.
A stir from his spot, as he snatched his cup once more to his lips before speaking, ”—Not at all, I find myself welcoming such things at times… besides, it’s my business… perhaps we can accommodate both, yes?” Whether cryptic or an answer to a question formed in his head, he answered it aloud and towards her. Perhaps everything he was, symptoms of the real issue. ”—I can’t do much, so it’s an interest of mine I suppose…” more questionable answers, he didn’t seem to mind, maintaining that languid appearance.
Subtle as it was, he noticed, predatory prowess that equally rivalled his own fluctuations, crack- if only slightly- revealing something fragile... He couldn’t help but wonder what he was feeling. Remorse? Had he done something? Said something?.. That kind loving man, gone swiftly, the delightfully wicked madman inside smiled. Somehow, finding innocence among the darkness… stirred him.
”—You ought to stay,” he said rather brazenly, casual, while he swirled the contents of his cup, helping himself soon to another… Only to shrug, just as quickly brushing off the offer, making it seem as if it hadn’t been his idea ”-It’s understandable, this weather does take getting used to…” Stormy city of nightmares, where madmen lurked around every corner… Mirthful streets a façade to the sinister things above and below. His home one of the few reliefs offered from the madness that loomed outside his doors…
”—In case you ARE interested however, I have a spare room upstairs… It isn’t much, about what you’d be offered with a Hotel… But perhaps I am being too bold… I have a tendency to do so.” Deliciously wicked, the smile appearing beneath the slate-blue piercing eyes. ”—What do you say? I don’t often have too many guests here.”