Post by emmafrost on Jul 17, 2006 21:44:41 GMT -5
[FIVE YEARS AGO]
Mystique had spent months cracking into protected files, sneaking through secure buildings and impersonating heads of state to get to the information she finally thought she'd gotten her hands on. It had been a birthday present to Eric, the folder full of papers straight from Stryker's personal computer. They'd known about the program at Alkali Lake for a number of years, but had found it incredibly difficult to crack into. Magneto simply wasn't ready to move on the location yet. There was something he'd been waiting on that he wasn't fully ready to share with her.
And so, there were things she wouldn't share with him either.
To her deep surprise, the filter she'd implanted into Agent Angie Cho's email system had caught a golden fish- information on a proposal between Stryker and the US Government to develop a program whose goal would be controlling mutants to use as weapons of war. While that alone was enough to delight her, she came across a second proposal, from an entirely different source.
Frost International, a relatively new company on the flight and sea transportation scene, was in talks with the United States about the development and manufacture of what seemed to Mystique to be some sort of large robot. The information was limited, but it was clear the intent was to use the machines as weapons against mutants themselves.
Now she had the in on TWO major corporations bids to work against the good of mutants. What was a girl to do?
It took her a few weeks to do reconn on Frost International's headquarter building, but she'd finally gotten the name and enough pictures of one of its top execs that she could formulate a plan. The security itself was minimal. Stepping out of the car as Rupert Stevenson, a tall, well groomed man in an eight hundred dollar suit, Mystique made her way into the building.
The elevator took her upstairs to Rupert's personal office. She said hello to Rupert's secretary and gave her Rupert's overcoat. Then it was time to be alone- just she, and Rupert's computer.
The password was paltry protection, and within seconds she was rifling through his personal files.
Down the hallway, the elevator ‘Rupert’ had stepped off of minutes ago opened once again. As the doors slid open, its lone passenger stepped forward from the center of the compartment. Emma Frost was never one to waste time, and she had an impossibly long list of things to do that morning. She had set that list aside, though, in order to make her daily rounds.
Each day, Emma checked in on a few of her employees. Though of course she could have done it all from where she was, simultaneously even, she often preferred to get out of her office and stretch her legs. After the long monotonous hours of paperwork and meetings she endured each day, it was a welcome change of pace to do some reading.
But she didn’t do it for her pleasure, nor was it done for her health. For months, Emma had had reason to suspect that a few of her employees were working on the project that Frost International was negotiating with the government. They were high-level employees, too—ones that had knowledge that would prove severely detrimental to Emma’s plans if shared. That her own employees would attempt to work behind her back was enough to make Emma angry. But that it was on the project that gave her the key connection she needed to finding out valuable information made the situation ten times worse. So that morning, after a conference call with ‘partners’ from the country’s capital, Emma had decided to pay a visit to a few of her worker ants.
The satisfactory click of her heels ended as soon as she stepped out of the elevator and onto the carpeted floor. From there, she made barely any noise at all as she cross the large room to the nearest office hallway. Already she knew instinctively every person on that floor, and she began to sweep the minds of each person in turn. In most cases, so little had been added to their memories in the last day or so that collecting the new information was like running her hand through water in order to create ripples. It was even more effortless than usual. Emma simply walked through the hallways, focusing on those in each office she passed for only as long as it took to walk past the door.
Finally she neared the mouth of the final hallway, which opened back into the entryway, as the first hallway she’d taken did. The office of Mr. Rupert Stevenson, whom was one of the men she was most suspicious of. She quickly swept through his secretary—her boyfriend had taken her out last night, she had thought he would propose…Nothing of any importance whatsoever. Emma turned her focus on Rupert as she reached the door.
She stopped in her tracks—One of the few times she had ever let what she was doing with her mind interfere or even be hinted to outwardly. Her eyes focused on the carpet, not seeing it at all. Within moments, she read through everything that was on the mind of the person in that office—A person who was not Rupert Stevenson. Her eyes directed to the door as their glazed look disappeared and their piercing confidence returned in full. She took the few steps needed to reach the door and placed one hand on the doorknob. Closing slim fingers tipped with long manicured nails around the knob, she turned it and pushed open the door.
Inside, Mr. Stevenson’s personal secretary looked up. Upon seeing who the unexpected visitor was, a wide smile spread across the humble young woman’s face. “Ms. Frost! I didn’t know Mr. Stevenson was expecting you—“ she said, already reaching for the phone to contact the office. Emma crossed the room to the desk, stopping her with carefully chosen words before the secretary could press the call button.
“He isn’t,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “I just thought I’d drop by and go through a few things with him. No need to call him; I’ll let myself in.”
That said, she moved away from the desk and toward the door. Before she’d opened the first door, she’d learned that the woman in Rupert’s office was a mutant: a shape-shifter. She was impersonating him. Emma learned this, as well as everything the woman hoped to find. As well as everything the woman knew about Frost International, Magneto and his Brotherhood, and anything regarding mutants. The woman knew a lot; it wasn’t until Emma finished speaking with the secretary that she finished reading her thoughts.
Emma decided to give the woman a few seconds’ notice. She knocked on the door, waited a few moments, and then opened the door. Even as she appeared in sight as the door opened into the office, she spoke. “Rupert?”
Mystique lifted Rupert's eyes from the computer system with a flawless sense of timing. He smiled curtly, professionally, as she'd seen Rupert do a hundred times before she took the risk of impersonating him. She wondered for a moment if Rupert was smiling that way still, unconscious in his garage at home.
"Ms. Frost." Rupert nodded, and she stood, smoothing the front of Rupert's jacket and gesturing to the leather chair in front of his desk. "What a surprise to see you." He moved to the mini bar near the window. Rupert, Mystique knew, often met with some of Frost International's most important clientele, and so couldn't be without the means to entertain them during business hours. "Please come in. Can I get you a drink?”
Even as Emma stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, she continued to delve into the mind of Raven Darkholme—or, Mystique, as she was called. There were things that were shadowy to Emma’s sight into her mind, things related to Miss Mystique’s life. These things Emma could have brought to light, but she did not find it pertinent that she know all of Mystique’s history. It was her more recent memories that she was interested in—why exactly she was there. Which she knew already.
Emma smiled warmly at Rupert, of course playing the part of the unknowing human perfectly. “Yes, please, that would be wonderful,” she said as she moved toward his desk at a leisurely pace. What kept her from questioning the intruder right away was the need to know exactly how much Ms. Darkholme knew about Rupert’s life. She had researched extensively, Emma saw. Even his personal life. But it did not seem that he had been bugged or watched at all times…Which, Emma decided (but with less confidence than she usually had in her decisions), left room for an affair at work. There was only one way to find out, now, wasn’t there?
Rupert turned with two glasses of bourbon in his hands. Mystique watched the woman with a new appreciation- she really was remarkably beautiful. Handing Ms. Frost her tumbler, ice tinkling gently within, Rupert sat on the edge of the desk and watched her move. "What brings me the pleasure of your presence today?" Rupert smiled charmingly, Mystique enjoying this little game. It wasn't often she was able to have a little fun at work.
His—her, rather—choice of words brought a ravishing and mischievous smirk to Emma Frost’s lips. She brought the tumbler to her lips as she tilted her head down slightly to meet it. All the while her eyes locked on to his, giving him coy attention with her eyes. “Pleasure…” she said over her tumbler, echoing his words and adding a wisp of question to the word. The way she said it left the statement open to interpretation, which was a safeguard as she played into the imaginary relationship that would give her the time she needed to find a way using, what she’d learned from Mystique’s mind, to call the proud woman on her bluff and save her own business secrets.
She sipped the drink silently, then directed her hand to set it on the desk as she moved closer still to the man. She was now inches from him—too close for a casual encounter between a man and his boss. After setting her tumbler on the desk, that hand touched his arm. She slid her hand smoothly up his arm and across his shoulder, speaking again as she did. “It’s been a long week for both of us…I wanted to see if you needed a break as badly as I do,” she said, her voice becoming like the song of a siren—silkily seductive. The red lips her words passed through were a coveted treasure to most any man, no matter any relationship he might be in. These men had only one saving grace, and it was that Emma did not open the door for such a thing to happen. Not usually. But when she did, there was not a man she had met who could resist her wiles.
As her lips closed together once again, one finger trailed down his chest with just enough pressure to be felt. Her eyes moved to his chest, then to his eyes once again, her appearance that of a woman hot for a romantic encounter. She was close enough then that her breath could be felt on his skin, her sweet perfume drifting over his senses.
Not leaving the woman in disguise with the time to decide whether to play into the surprising revelation or to fabricate some excuse of urgent business, Emma tilted her head in to his and brushed his lips with hers. As she did, she drew her senses from any part of Mystique’s mind in which new thoughts would appear. Emma often drew herself back so when meeting new people, as well as when engaging in any intimate situation. These things eliminated anything, positive or negative, that she might hear that would influence her opinion of the person. As this was a situation in which she was meeting a new person and beginning an intimate situation, Emma let Raven think her thoughts alone.
Mystique was quite familiar with this situation, having loved and made love to a number of wealthy, highly influential women in her time. None could take the place of her Irene, but many of them reminded Mystique of their years together.
Rupert's arms pulled Emma in slowly, opening her lips with his in a slow kiss, the sort lovers familiar with one another share. Mystique thought of the disc she'd almost completed copying, still spinning in the drive under the desk. She could hear it whirring as Rupert's hand slid down along the woman's spine, fingers curling in her long hair.
It was best not to say anything. Mystique was capable of taking this as far as Ms. Frost was interested, and still she'd be able to escape with the disc. Or maybe that was lazy logic just to enjoy the woman's kiss for a while.
Emma was enjoying the embrace in her own right. She found Rupert attractive, though not enough to have acted on it before—She wasn’t sure if she’d have done so, even if there hadn’t been a Mrs. Stevenson she’d have been severely one-upping. But to be able to do so without any consequences…It wasn’t even Rupert, for God’s sake.
Emma felt him draw her closer, and she leaned against him as he sat on the edge of his desk. Her statuesque form pressed lightly against his, her curves well-defined even through the all-white fitted women’s suit she wore. Her hands roamed his arms, shoulders, and chest as she parted her lips in welcome of his advances. Her tongue ventured just far enough from her mouth to touch his own as their mouths locked passionately.
Mystique figured if it would get her out of here, who was she to argue with the boss lady. In a sudden move(and a decent display of strength, if one took into account Rupert was not truly a man of his size), Rupert picked Emma up with both arms, pivoting easily to place the woman on the desk. Rupert's hand pushed aside paperweights, a stapler, even the keyboard as he set himself between his employer's knees, continuing the kiss and raising her a rough moan.
Sometimes, she loved her job.
Emma was surprised by the bold and sudden gesture, but she didn’t even give thought to the fact that it was something she couldn’t picture Rupert doing of his own accord. There was something incredibly exciting about the situation—It was always exciting to have such an encounter at a whim, but Emma found it even more so in the current situation.
She had come to her decision moments before and was no longer stalling. Just experimenting; having a little fun. And with her mind not focusing any part on Raven Darkholme’s thoughts at that point, Emma was able to give her completely undivided attention to the task at hand. Her eyes had opened when he had lifted her up, and she beheld him with a look of lust that would have weakened the knees of one less experienced than Mystique. She sat up straight and slid her arms around his back, clutching at him again as her breasts pressed into his chest. She now focused her lip’s attention on his neck, tilting her head to the side and causing her white-gold hair to cascade to one shoulder. Her lips brushed his neck once, then twice, before planting against his skin more firmly. As she kissed and licked his skim sensually, she readied for the moment when she would break the mirage.
Mystique found herself no less focused on her task, though it could be said the task at hand became more important to her for a few seconds. Threading Rupert's fingers into her hair, she gripped almost tightly, pulling Emma's head back with a slow sort of insistence. Rupert's brown eyes met hers for a moment, his mouth falling to her neck, biting into the soft curve where it met her shoulder as Rupert's hip pressed into her thigh.
This incited a low, pleased moan, almost like a purr, to sound from Emma’s throat. This woman, whoever she was, played the game just how Emma liked it; just a little rough. Emma had never been one for mushy romantics—She assumed that when she found someone to settle down with, if she ever found the time for that, then would come the time for that. But until then, she was bold and daring.
She let herself enjoy the attention she was getting, putting off the inevitable moment when it would have to stop for a few more seconds. Finally, her hand found his neck, resting there softly. She gently leaned away from his lips as she applied slight pressure, all to ask him wordlessly to raise his head to look at her. When he did, her eyes looked to his lips again. Indulging herself one last time, she kissed his lips once more. When her lips left his, she kept her head not an inch from his. Her eyes opened, and as they flitted across his face she spoke in a voice that was unordinarily precise for the situation.
“It’s quite a shame I’m not a lesbian…Raven Darkholme.”
Mystique had spent months cracking into protected files, sneaking through secure buildings and impersonating heads of state to get to the information she finally thought she'd gotten her hands on. It had been a birthday present to Eric, the folder full of papers straight from Stryker's personal computer. They'd known about the program at Alkali Lake for a number of years, but had found it incredibly difficult to crack into. Magneto simply wasn't ready to move on the location yet. There was something he'd been waiting on that he wasn't fully ready to share with her.
And so, there were things she wouldn't share with him either.
To her deep surprise, the filter she'd implanted into Agent Angie Cho's email system had caught a golden fish- information on a proposal between Stryker and the US Government to develop a program whose goal would be controlling mutants to use as weapons of war. While that alone was enough to delight her, she came across a second proposal, from an entirely different source.
Frost International, a relatively new company on the flight and sea transportation scene, was in talks with the United States about the development and manufacture of what seemed to Mystique to be some sort of large robot. The information was limited, but it was clear the intent was to use the machines as weapons against mutants themselves.
Now she had the in on TWO major corporations bids to work against the good of mutants. What was a girl to do?
It took her a few weeks to do reconn on Frost International's headquarter building, but she'd finally gotten the name and enough pictures of one of its top execs that she could formulate a plan. The security itself was minimal. Stepping out of the car as Rupert Stevenson, a tall, well groomed man in an eight hundred dollar suit, Mystique made her way into the building.
The elevator took her upstairs to Rupert's personal office. She said hello to Rupert's secretary and gave her Rupert's overcoat. Then it was time to be alone- just she, and Rupert's computer.
The password was paltry protection, and within seconds she was rifling through his personal files.
Down the hallway, the elevator ‘Rupert’ had stepped off of minutes ago opened once again. As the doors slid open, its lone passenger stepped forward from the center of the compartment. Emma Frost was never one to waste time, and she had an impossibly long list of things to do that morning. She had set that list aside, though, in order to make her daily rounds.
Each day, Emma checked in on a few of her employees. Though of course she could have done it all from where she was, simultaneously even, she often preferred to get out of her office and stretch her legs. After the long monotonous hours of paperwork and meetings she endured each day, it was a welcome change of pace to do some reading.
But she didn’t do it for her pleasure, nor was it done for her health. For months, Emma had had reason to suspect that a few of her employees were working on the project that Frost International was negotiating with the government. They were high-level employees, too—ones that had knowledge that would prove severely detrimental to Emma’s plans if shared. That her own employees would attempt to work behind her back was enough to make Emma angry. But that it was on the project that gave her the key connection she needed to finding out valuable information made the situation ten times worse. So that morning, after a conference call with ‘partners’ from the country’s capital, Emma had decided to pay a visit to a few of her worker ants.
The satisfactory click of her heels ended as soon as she stepped out of the elevator and onto the carpeted floor. From there, she made barely any noise at all as she cross the large room to the nearest office hallway. Already she knew instinctively every person on that floor, and she began to sweep the minds of each person in turn. In most cases, so little had been added to their memories in the last day or so that collecting the new information was like running her hand through water in order to create ripples. It was even more effortless than usual. Emma simply walked through the hallways, focusing on those in each office she passed for only as long as it took to walk past the door.
Finally she neared the mouth of the final hallway, which opened back into the entryway, as the first hallway she’d taken did. The office of Mr. Rupert Stevenson, whom was one of the men she was most suspicious of. She quickly swept through his secretary—her boyfriend had taken her out last night, she had thought he would propose…Nothing of any importance whatsoever. Emma turned her focus on Rupert as she reached the door.
She stopped in her tracks—One of the few times she had ever let what she was doing with her mind interfere or even be hinted to outwardly. Her eyes focused on the carpet, not seeing it at all. Within moments, she read through everything that was on the mind of the person in that office—A person who was not Rupert Stevenson. Her eyes directed to the door as their glazed look disappeared and their piercing confidence returned in full. She took the few steps needed to reach the door and placed one hand on the doorknob. Closing slim fingers tipped with long manicured nails around the knob, she turned it and pushed open the door.
Inside, Mr. Stevenson’s personal secretary looked up. Upon seeing who the unexpected visitor was, a wide smile spread across the humble young woman’s face. “Ms. Frost! I didn’t know Mr. Stevenson was expecting you—“ she said, already reaching for the phone to contact the office. Emma crossed the room to the desk, stopping her with carefully chosen words before the secretary could press the call button.
“He isn’t,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “I just thought I’d drop by and go through a few things with him. No need to call him; I’ll let myself in.”
That said, she moved away from the desk and toward the door. Before she’d opened the first door, she’d learned that the woman in Rupert’s office was a mutant: a shape-shifter. She was impersonating him. Emma learned this, as well as everything the woman hoped to find. As well as everything the woman knew about Frost International, Magneto and his Brotherhood, and anything regarding mutants. The woman knew a lot; it wasn’t until Emma finished speaking with the secretary that she finished reading her thoughts.
Emma decided to give the woman a few seconds’ notice. She knocked on the door, waited a few moments, and then opened the door. Even as she appeared in sight as the door opened into the office, she spoke. “Rupert?”
Mystique lifted Rupert's eyes from the computer system with a flawless sense of timing. He smiled curtly, professionally, as she'd seen Rupert do a hundred times before she took the risk of impersonating him. She wondered for a moment if Rupert was smiling that way still, unconscious in his garage at home.
"Ms. Frost." Rupert nodded, and she stood, smoothing the front of Rupert's jacket and gesturing to the leather chair in front of his desk. "What a surprise to see you." He moved to the mini bar near the window. Rupert, Mystique knew, often met with some of Frost International's most important clientele, and so couldn't be without the means to entertain them during business hours. "Please come in. Can I get you a drink?”
Even as Emma stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, she continued to delve into the mind of Raven Darkholme—or, Mystique, as she was called. There were things that were shadowy to Emma’s sight into her mind, things related to Miss Mystique’s life. These things Emma could have brought to light, but she did not find it pertinent that she know all of Mystique’s history. It was her more recent memories that she was interested in—why exactly she was there. Which she knew already.
Emma smiled warmly at Rupert, of course playing the part of the unknowing human perfectly. “Yes, please, that would be wonderful,” she said as she moved toward his desk at a leisurely pace. What kept her from questioning the intruder right away was the need to know exactly how much Ms. Darkholme knew about Rupert’s life. She had researched extensively, Emma saw. Even his personal life. But it did not seem that he had been bugged or watched at all times…Which, Emma decided (but with less confidence than she usually had in her decisions), left room for an affair at work. There was only one way to find out, now, wasn’t there?
Rupert turned with two glasses of bourbon in his hands. Mystique watched the woman with a new appreciation- she really was remarkably beautiful. Handing Ms. Frost her tumbler, ice tinkling gently within, Rupert sat on the edge of the desk and watched her move. "What brings me the pleasure of your presence today?" Rupert smiled charmingly, Mystique enjoying this little game. It wasn't often she was able to have a little fun at work.
His—her, rather—choice of words brought a ravishing and mischievous smirk to Emma Frost’s lips. She brought the tumbler to her lips as she tilted her head down slightly to meet it. All the while her eyes locked on to his, giving him coy attention with her eyes. “Pleasure…” she said over her tumbler, echoing his words and adding a wisp of question to the word. The way she said it left the statement open to interpretation, which was a safeguard as she played into the imaginary relationship that would give her the time she needed to find a way using, what she’d learned from Mystique’s mind, to call the proud woman on her bluff and save her own business secrets.
She sipped the drink silently, then directed her hand to set it on the desk as she moved closer still to the man. She was now inches from him—too close for a casual encounter between a man and his boss. After setting her tumbler on the desk, that hand touched his arm. She slid her hand smoothly up his arm and across his shoulder, speaking again as she did. “It’s been a long week for both of us…I wanted to see if you needed a break as badly as I do,” she said, her voice becoming like the song of a siren—silkily seductive. The red lips her words passed through were a coveted treasure to most any man, no matter any relationship he might be in. These men had only one saving grace, and it was that Emma did not open the door for such a thing to happen. Not usually. But when she did, there was not a man she had met who could resist her wiles.
As her lips closed together once again, one finger trailed down his chest with just enough pressure to be felt. Her eyes moved to his chest, then to his eyes once again, her appearance that of a woman hot for a romantic encounter. She was close enough then that her breath could be felt on his skin, her sweet perfume drifting over his senses.
Not leaving the woman in disguise with the time to decide whether to play into the surprising revelation or to fabricate some excuse of urgent business, Emma tilted her head in to his and brushed his lips with hers. As she did, she drew her senses from any part of Mystique’s mind in which new thoughts would appear. Emma often drew herself back so when meeting new people, as well as when engaging in any intimate situation. These things eliminated anything, positive or negative, that she might hear that would influence her opinion of the person. As this was a situation in which she was meeting a new person and beginning an intimate situation, Emma let Raven think her thoughts alone.
Mystique was quite familiar with this situation, having loved and made love to a number of wealthy, highly influential women in her time. None could take the place of her Irene, but many of them reminded Mystique of their years together.
Rupert's arms pulled Emma in slowly, opening her lips with his in a slow kiss, the sort lovers familiar with one another share. Mystique thought of the disc she'd almost completed copying, still spinning in the drive under the desk. She could hear it whirring as Rupert's hand slid down along the woman's spine, fingers curling in her long hair.
It was best not to say anything. Mystique was capable of taking this as far as Ms. Frost was interested, and still she'd be able to escape with the disc. Or maybe that was lazy logic just to enjoy the woman's kiss for a while.
Emma was enjoying the embrace in her own right. She found Rupert attractive, though not enough to have acted on it before—She wasn’t sure if she’d have done so, even if there hadn’t been a Mrs. Stevenson she’d have been severely one-upping. But to be able to do so without any consequences…It wasn’t even Rupert, for God’s sake.
Emma felt him draw her closer, and she leaned against him as he sat on the edge of his desk. Her statuesque form pressed lightly against his, her curves well-defined even through the all-white fitted women’s suit she wore. Her hands roamed his arms, shoulders, and chest as she parted her lips in welcome of his advances. Her tongue ventured just far enough from her mouth to touch his own as their mouths locked passionately.
Mystique figured if it would get her out of here, who was she to argue with the boss lady. In a sudden move(and a decent display of strength, if one took into account Rupert was not truly a man of his size), Rupert picked Emma up with both arms, pivoting easily to place the woman on the desk. Rupert's hand pushed aside paperweights, a stapler, even the keyboard as he set himself between his employer's knees, continuing the kiss and raising her a rough moan.
Sometimes, she loved her job.
Emma was surprised by the bold and sudden gesture, but she didn’t even give thought to the fact that it was something she couldn’t picture Rupert doing of his own accord. There was something incredibly exciting about the situation—It was always exciting to have such an encounter at a whim, but Emma found it even more so in the current situation.
She had come to her decision moments before and was no longer stalling. Just experimenting; having a little fun. And with her mind not focusing any part on Raven Darkholme’s thoughts at that point, Emma was able to give her completely undivided attention to the task at hand. Her eyes had opened when he had lifted her up, and she beheld him with a look of lust that would have weakened the knees of one less experienced than Mystique. She sat up straight and slid her arms around his back, clutching at him again as her breasts pressed into his chest. She now focused her lip’s attention on his neck, tilting her head to the side and causing her white-gold hair to cascade to one shoulder. Her lips brushed his neck once, then twice, before planting against his skin more firmly. As she kissed and licked his skim sensually, she readied for the moment when she would break the mirage.
Mystique found herself no less focused on her task, though it could be said the task at hand became more important to her for a few seconds. Threading Rupert's fingers into her hair, she gripped almost tightly, pulling Emma's head back with a slow sort of insistence. Rupert's brown eyes met hers for a moment, his mouth falling to her neck, biting into the soft curve where it met her shoulder as Rupert's hip pressed into her thigh.
This incited a low, pleased moan, almost like a purr, to sound from Emma’s throat. This woman, whoever she was, played the game just how Emma liked it; just a little rough. Emma had never been one for mushy romantics—She assumed that when she found someone to settle down with, if she ever found the time for that, then would come the time for that. But until then, she was bold and daring.
She let herself enjoy the attention she was getting, putting off the inevitable moment when it would have to stop for a few more seconds. Finally, her hand found his neck, resting there softly. She gently leaned away from his lips as she applied slight pressure, all to ask him wordlessly to raise his head to look at her. When he did, her eyes looked to his lips again. Indulging herself one last time, she kissed his lips once more. When her lips left his, she kept her head not an inch from his. Her eyes opened, and as they flitted across his face she spoke in a voice that was unordinarily precise for the situation.
“It’s quite a shame I’m not a lesbian…Raven Darkholme.”