Cosmic Love (Tag: Dahlia) (Casual)

[mephi]

Let's just say, this was one hell of a party.

Damien cackled at something he truly hadn't heard coming from the girl at his side, just because he could. His goal was to become drunk beyond all belief, but between the kissing, the entertaining, the dancing, the idiots bothering him, he hadn't had time to even touch a drink, let alone get wasted.

He didn't really mind, though, since the whole point of the shindig was to distance himself. He'd been sent on far too many jobs by his father recently, and he needed a goddamn break! What the hell did his dad think he was, his personal lap dog? But if he had a party and kept his mind from it all, he might feel just a little bit better, and the nagging in the back of his mind would quit. Stupid voice that suggested to him what to do.

It didn't help that the voice wasn't really a voice, but sheets of paper flying through his mind, with the same cryptic sprwal of the woman. Dahlia.

It was like she haunted him, like a real ghost. His ulterior motive for this party was plastered all over his heart. He just wanted her to quit incessantly stomping all over everything he believed in (which wasn't much), without saying anything at all. He hadn't seen her since the day at the graveyard, and that was a few weeks ago. He got the feeling he'd never see her again, but didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

'Why should I care? Why WOULD I see her again? Do I want to?' he scoffed in his mind. Though of course he knew he did.

So that's why he distracted himself with this beautiful woman at his side. His house was big, spacious, totally modern, and totally obnoxious, and that was just the way he liked it. Plenty of room to "spend some time" with one of his favorite guests, though the other party goers might get in the way...

"Hey, baby..." the harlot with the flaming red hair said. "Why don't we go upstairs, and look at your... Collection... you were talking about?" She tiptoed her fingers across his jacketed chest as she hung onto his arm.

He smirked. He grabbed a shot glass that had been set down for him, finally taking his first sip of alcohol for the night. He swished it down, and eyed the girl with glee. "That sounds like a plan!"

[dahlia]

It was almost comical how out-of-place Dahlia looked at this party. She'd heard from her aunt about it, her heard from a friend of a friend and had told her she should go. Of course, she never would have, if she didn't know who it was being thrown by. She'd recognized the last name from the little rant the man in the graveyard had given her...despicable man that he was.

And that was the whole reason she was here, anyway.

So she had taken the one expensive dress she owned and gone to the party. There were more than a few people there that needed her help to, but the man she'd met in the graveyard had sparked her pity; she could see that he didn't like the way he was... he just couldn't help it. It was the only thing he'd ever known in this life. That wasn't his fault- now, he just needed some help.

She was swaying lightly from side to side, the gauze tassels on the hem of her dress shimmering in the multicolored lighting of the large main room. The dress filled out her form somewhat, and was very flashy for what she usually wore. It was long-sleeved, but in a way that didn't cover her shoulders, only her arms. She looked stunning, though that hadn't been her aim, not that it ever was. Her swaying was the closest she'd come all night to actually dancing- she was enjoying herself only because this was people-watching gold.

And then, she suddenly found who she was searching for. With a redhead. Ah.

She didn't approach him, but she moved into his line of vision. He was bound to see her as he made his way by with the redhead- how he would react, now that was a different thing altogether. The only thing was, she planned on making a big impact on him tonight. He would never forget, and that was her aim. Almost cruel in a way, but he would see the favor in the long run.

[mephi]

Damien laughed at something else the firey red head had said, but his vision was too preoccupied to pay attention. It wasn't as if he was seeing things, was it? Was he so wrapped up around the image of that damn woman that he was implanting her face on an unsuspecting party goer? Or was that really her, who graced his vision with just as much morbid curiosity as had been when he last saw her. His breath caught in his throat as he caught her eye.

He twitched with annoyance, clutching a hasty arm around the harlot woman. Who did she think she was, coming to a high class only party? She probably couldn't afford a paper bag, much less that dress she was wearing. The dress that looked like the cosmos as they twinkled and plotted against all living things. Was she plotting against him? She was just dying to bring him down, wasn't she? He knew it, she must be some sort of spy, for his father perhaps.

That didn't stop his palms from becoming clammy, however. He clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly as an sly idea came to his mind. He guided the girl's gaze with his own as he roughly grabbed the hip of the red haired woman, raising her leg against his hip. He gripped her neck and bent down for a lustful kiss, never taking his eyes off of the girl. He smirked against those lucious red lips, biting them and teasing them with his tongue.

'Go ahead. Let her tell him about all my misgivings. I don't care, not so long as I have my money and my pride...'

This was going to be one interesting party.

[dahlia]

Dahlia kept swaying, tilting her head slightly as she watched him. His plan had backfired, because she wasn't phased in the least. She just presented him with a very small, amused smile on her maroon-painted lips. She knew what he was trying to do, but it didn't bother her. She was incapable of feeling jealousy toward him at this point.

She looked away, the smile still in place, surveying the room. It was so... over done. As was the rest of his life, she saw. No thought at all about the people below him; she suspected that he barely had any idea that there were people below him, real people with real lives. But he would see soon. Maybe he wouldn't completely understand yet, but he would at least see that there were people, and that he could help them.

Finally, she looked back his way, one eyebrow raising eloquently.

[mephi]

There was no surprise on her face, no shock, no anger. Just curiosity, and... Was that amusmant? No matter. He hadn't expected her to be shocked. The only person he wanted to shock was his father, and she would no doubt tell him of this outrageous part, and probably his living conditions as she scanned the room. It wasn't the traditional house for a son of a a mob boss, more like for a movie star. But that's what he was, just without the acting credits. He was a celebrity. Anyone who was anyone knew Damien Talbot.

He remembered how she hadn't really known him. She was probably acting. Of course she knew who he was. She had to, didn't she? Was there really someone in the world who was oblivious to the fact that he was New York's hottest playboy?

This had him worried. That reputation he had worked so hard to build up (yes, what a terrible reputation it was), might go crumbling down with that raised eyebrow of hers. It was making him angry how she was just standing there. She might hover him like a hawk. That would make him feel better. But no, she just stood there, swaying to the music like she enjoyed it.

He pulled away from the woman and grabbed her by the wrist. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, as he flung the woman lightly into the arms of an unsuspecting drunk. "I got some business to take care of. Why don't you just stay here, and I'll come back?"

He flashed a million watt smile at her, and slunk towards Dahlia, the smirk replaced by a grimace and brows furrowing.

Finally in front of her, he said with an annoyed expression, "What the hell do you think you're doing here? I invited only those who were prestigious in society."

[dahlia]

Dahlia slowly stopped swaying as he approached her, adjusting the sleeves of her dress. With his venomous words, she only grabbed a napkin from the nearby bar and pulled out her pen, her hand flicking across the paper effortlessly as she explained herself.

I'm afraid that I didn't tell you my last name. Skuld.

If he was who she thought he was, then he must have heard her father's name mentioned often in his life. Her father had had some trouble with bribes from the mob, and really, it wasn't all that uncommon for him to actually work with them. Even mobsters needed financial assistance sometimes.

The mob needed other kinds of assistance too, and that was why she'd come here in the first place. It was hard to sway a person into good when you could only tell them their grim future; if she could somehow open his eyes to the past, the caught of his problems, or somehow illuminate the present, and make him see all the people he was affecting with his lifestyle. Perhaps he thought that the worst thing he was doing was making his father angry, but she knew that she must make him see that it wasn't what he was doing, but what he wasn't doing. But, she couldn't make him see anything- he had to see it for himself.

She handed the napkin to him and looked over his shoulder at the poor redheaded woman. The look on the girl's face was poisonous as she glared back at Dahlia, probably figuring that Damien had left her to go flirt with this random mute woman. Dahlia watched her, her gaze eventually making the girl turn away.

[mephi]

Damien took the paper from her, expecting some sort of pathetic explaination, but instead found himself feeling like an idiot. He growled internally, crumbling up the paper into a ball in rage. He flung it to the side, running a shaky hand through his hair. He felt like giving up just then. He would never win. There was no escaping this woman.

He clapped his hands, biting his upper lip in a smirk. "Bravo, bravo." He said, laughing. "I feel so much better now that you've come to stalk me. I can't very well kick you out, else I'd have to kick EVERYONE out!" He shouted, jumping around. He was really pissed off now. He tended to get mad when he was embarrassed, and he was definitely feeling shame.

The crowd was moving away from him, looking a little astonished through their drunken stupor. They kept partying on, however.

He ignored them, instead standing in front of Dahlia with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. "Are you going to tell me what the hell you're doing here, or do I have to guess?"

[dahlia]

Dahlia looked around at the crowd, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. He really was just like a little kid- high temper, getting loud and pouty when he was angry, and making fun of her as if that would help him feel better about himself. She watched him as he ranted for a bit and then came back to her, crossing his arms with that glare.

She returned to swaying, taking another napkin and jotting something down quickly. She folded it and gave it to him, as if they were at a school dance and she was relaying a message, and put an expectant hand on his jacketed arm. Perhaps she would have seen the irony if she had ever been to a school dance.

Would you like to dance?

It was just an excuse to get him alone in this crowd of people. Perhaps she could somehow charm him into leaving the party with her, so that she could do what she'd set out to do. At first, she thought it might be easy to sway him from his current position, but it was getting increasingly obvious that changing him would be a long and nearly-impossible task. But for the love of God, the love of her children, and most of all for his future, he had to save himself. Save himself from the chains that awaited him after death, the ones he'd be forging all his life through his acts of greed, jealousy, and lust, among other things. They were reversible. If she could help, he could save his soul.

[mephi]

Damien was taken aback. He blinked twice at the napkin, then looked up at her. He couldn't help but look back at the sheet again and again, dumbstruck at this simple request. He hadn't expected this. He'd expected some sort of showdown between him and one of his father's inside men (er... Women). Clearly, this wasn't the case. Had he made it all up in his mind? Was she really just a girl he kept running into at the most haphazard times?

"I--Uh..." he gulped, a little embarrassed at his overreacting. He scratched his head, looking somewhere else for support, but found none. "I, um... Okay..." He blushed internally, but cleverlly masked his face with apprehensive calm. The song blaring from the DJ's booth was a bit raunchy, even for his taste, but he would manage. He couldn't picture her dancing to it, but to each his own.

He shrugged in defeat, and crumbled up this napkin, but instead of throwing it away, he placed it in the inside of his jacket pocket. He held out a hand to her, sweat beads forming on his brow. He led her closer to the DJ, where the crowd was.

He was fully prepared to start getting down, but suddenly, the song changed. It was a completely different genre, obviously a ballad. The kind you waltzed to.

He mentally groaned, and eyed her with a raised eyebrow. He sighed in defeat once more, and took her waist with one hand, and her hand with the other. He started moving to the music in the typical fashion of professional dancers. 1, 2, 3, and 1, 2, 3, and so on and so on. he twirled her around, her dress shimmering in the dance lights.

"I took dance lessons when I was in grade school. My instructor said I was the best in the class..." he said quietly. He was looking directly into her eyes. There was no real anger anymore. Slight annoyance still, but he was just entranced by those eyes that could see into his soul.

[dahlia]

Dahlia had taken his hand in hers when he'd offered, looking around at where he was leading her. The heels she was wearing were just a bit higher than she was used to, so her steps were jerkier, but it didn't seem to change the morbid grace in her air. She only hesitated when she paid attention to the song that was blaring through the room.

Then it would seem God was willing to help her out a bit, as the song changed from the thumping techno and moaning women to slower music, played with pianos and string instruments. She couldn't help but wonder why the DJ even had this song on his list, much less why he kept it going. Maybe just because Damien didn't seem to mind. The others sure did, though, as they backed off of the dance floor like the waltz was an infection.

Dahlia's eyes finally met his as he pulled her into a very experienced waltz. It wasn't as graceful as it probably could have been, but he wasn't stepping on her feet, and she didn't have any trouble keeping up with him.

"I took dance lessons when I was in grade school. My instructor said I was the best in the class..."

Her face was graced with a little smile. Yes, just like a little kid, always looking for approval and masking it by being bad. He could still be swayed to good, she was convinced. That child was still in him, running from the man he was trying to be, when the man he could be was smothered. She then nodded, as if to agree with his long-gone instructor.

[mephi]

Damien was more than a little bit skeptical at this point. Sure, it was nice holding h-- Er, having a warm body to rub up against if the need arose, but it made him feel nervous. And Damien Talbot did NOT like to be nervous. People's necks were snapped when he didn't like something, and the little man in the back of his mind feared for this beautiful woman's pale, white throat.

Oh, would that little man ever shut his trap? The constant buzzing never ceased, and it was beginning to get frustrating. Damien just wanted to stuff him inside a box and suffocate him till his eyes popped out of his skull. But he never seemed to get his way, did he? No, because it was still there, soft and clear, like wind chimes warning him of oncoming danger.

He swayed Dahlia around the deserted dance floor, but he didn't care whether or not people were having fun. Actually, he was beginning to enjoy himself, and flashed a genuine smile, eyebrows raised in happiness at the raven haired beauty. He was just going to let his heart take over while he was on the dancefloor. As long as they didn't talk (which she couldn't, so it didn't matter), he'd partake in this little slice of bliss that had so simply been dropped onto his lap.

Was that his heart beating fast again? Oh, dear, he really needed to get that fixed, or else his whole world would explode!

[dahlia]

Dahlia felt that she was making a bit of progress, and she even graced him with a slightly bigger smile than before. She wasn't just all schemes- she enjoyed dancing with him; he was gentlemanly right now, at least, and that was all she asked for. Now, though, she could feel the music coming into a close, and she felt that now was the time to leave this party.

As the song slowly ended, she took one of his hands firmly and led him off the dance floor, throwing a glance back at him to assure him that he could relax. On the way out, she grabbed a snug fleece jacket that had been discarded in a pile with the others near the doors; it didn't go to well with the rest of her shimmery get up, but she hardly noticed. There were a pair of elegant French doors near the back of the room, leading to a balcony which was low to the ground, considering this was the first floor, and framed by some low hedges.

Dahlia lead him to the edge of the balcony, leaning a little against the parapet as she produced a palm-sized notepad from the pocket of her jacket. She scribbled a message and then passed it to him, not taking her gaze off of the street in front of them. The noise and general havoc of the party wasn't too prominent behind them now, tuned out by the silence in the outdoors. It wasn't too chilly of a night, but there was a little nip- it certainly wasn't too cold for the crickets, who chirped happily.

It was strange that night had a sound. That low, hollow buzzing of the wind and just nothing.... nothing else... Like hearing an airplane fly far overhead, and not being able to see it. Your steps echoed on pavement differently at night, as if they were filling a long-forgotten void in a hole in the universe. Dahlia was like the night- completely silent and yet so, so loud at the same time.

Can I show you something?

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[mephi]

Damien was thankful for Dahlia leading him outside. The fresh air cleared his head, and he could finally think straight. It was slightly suffocating in there, even when he hadn't had much to drink. He was reveling in holding her hand as well, though they almost disappeared in his hands. Those spindly little things captivated him, and it took everything in his power not to rub circles into her palm.

When she leaned agaisnt the balcony, he leaned with her, trying not to look at her sparkling cleavage. He smiled a little. He couldn't seem to stop smiling! And he had thrown this party to forget about Dahlia. Here he was, standing next to her as if they were old friends.

She handed him the paper, and he took it graciously. She seemed to be staring at nothing, especially not him. Why was she here, anyway? He'd decided now that she couldn't be working for his father, but all the same. Did SHE feel the same way about him as he did about her?

What was he feeling? Certainly not love. He could never love. He'd ruin the person who he fell in love with, and he definitely didn't want that for anyone. Mabye this feeling was infatuation. That's it. She was like a new toy for him. He couldn't wait to play with her!

He finally looked down at the napkin, his face lighting up. Oh, she was quite the mysterious one. he wondered what it was, and absently said "Sure" as he traced the contours of her scrawled handwriting.

He put this one in his jacket pocket as well, next to the other one. He didn't realize why he was doing that, and he barely noticed. He turned back to her, with an expectant expression on his face.

[dahlia]

Dahlia watched him for a moment, her expression getting somber. She draped her little lace jacket over the side of the balcony, exposing her shoulders to the biting chill of the night air- but she didn't seem to mind at all. She turned a bit and then did something completely unexpected.

In a second or two, Dahlia had swung both of her legs off the balcony and had kicked off her high heels; she looked back at him briefly, as if to tell him to follow her, and then dropped down to the black, icy grass. Her dress only fluttered a bit as she gracefully landed on her feet, like a cat, giving him only a split-second view of her thigh. She quickly retrieved her shoes and put them back on, shivering only slightly.

Into the night, she began to glide off of his lawn, her dress flitting behind her like a tendril, a little slice of death. A distinct feeling of foreboding fell heavy into the night, like a saturated cloth; the music from the throbbing house died off completely into the grave silence.

For a moment, she was lost in the darkness, but then her bent form shone across the street, framed in the light from a lamp; her eyes were in complete shadow, giving the illusion that they were merely sockets. There was a very heavy moment of silence, and then one bone-thin arm raised, the hand on the end twitching, pointing down the street. The lamp above her flickered.

[mephi]

Damien followed her without hesitation, but with a little doubt. He crept through the dark with her in a quiet stalk much like wolf, trotting only slightly when she got too far ahead of him. He had no idea where they were going, but he would follow her, none the less. What would the guests think when they found him missing though?

Probably nothing, as they'd be too drunk out of their minds to notice.

"Where are we going, Dahly?" he whispered, though he'd had no real reason to. The night seemed so still and silent that he didn't want to disturb it.

There were no motions in the night but their still forms. He was caught by surprise when she suddenly stopped. He thought she was going to answer his question, and she did... In a way.

Her omnious gesture made his heart stop for a moment. The flicker of the lights, the way her hair whipped back and forth in the wind around her face, the way he had stood so close that her dress pressed up against his form due to the air currents. He remained paralyzed at her most disturbing and haunting beauty that he didn't know what to do with himself.

All he could do was gulp.