[Edgeworth finds himself lying on a large and comfortable bed. Despite the luxury, he feels ill, dizzy, and lethargic. He's lacking his suit jacket, and can't quite remember how he got here.
He also desperately wants to know who's in the shower.]
/is a selfish thing (and is at work)proxysearchJanuary 23 2011, 18:38:39 UTC
[It's not as nice as her shower at home, but it'll do. Re-l doesn't care much, holding herself under the stream of hot water and rinsing out her hair. The trapped heat in the bathroom, combined with the hotel's warmer room, has left her a little dizzy- The cool air, once she's left the bathroom, will be enough to clear her head, she thinks.
The water turns off and she squeezes out her black hair, sighing contentedly. Finally, a long shower without being interrupted by phone calls, idle black cats, and men who have no idea how to shave properly.
She wraps a towel around herself and opens the door.]
/is COMPLETELY DELIGHTEDmentis_reaeJanuary 23 2011, 18:43:12 UTC
[He sits up when he sees her, his eyes feeling heavy. There's a strange hunger that doesn't seem to originate in his stomach, nor in his chest, but instead in his hands and feet and knees. For all his lethargy and heaviness, that desire seems to give hands and feet and knees forward impetus, so he stands and takes a step towards her, then another.
Give in to your desires...
But he stops himself, knowledge of what is proper and what is right warring with his desire to slip his fingers under rough tarrycloth and drag downwards. He blinks at her in confusion.]
[She brushes her hair back as she exits and stops when she sees Miles Edgeworth on the bed, nearly sprawled like a sleeping cat. There's a slowness to her brain that normally wouldn't be there, something that keeps her from sharpening her gaze on him in indignation. Instead, she's just as confused as he is; the first thought, sadly, that comes to mind is 'Where is his jacket?' and not 'What the hell is he doing in my hotel room?'
Re-l pauses before answering, blinking away what lingering uncertainty she has from her eyes.]
I'm- I'm not sure.
[She realizes, belatedly, that she does not even remember asking for a room. Or to go to a hotel.]
[She belatedly begins to realize that she's standing in front of him, naked save for a towel. She ties the cloth closer around herself and tries to pass any embarrassment she might feel off. Instead, she focuses on him, on his 'state' and how he looks. She swallows before saying anything, but then reaches out tentatively for his forehead.]
You look unkempt. [She presses her fingers to his forehead.] And you're warm. Maybe someone did drug us.
[Why she would wake up and take a shower instead of finding a way out, however, is beyond her.]
[He reaches up and grasps her hand, his fingers tight around her palm. He stares into her eyes a long moment, two, his gaze intent and hungry and heated. His lips part...
Give in to your desires.
And he presses his eyes shut again, fighting down that hunger. He drops his grip and pulls his head away from her hand, stalking past her into the bathroom to fumble for a glass to fill with water.]
[She nearly drops her towel in alarm, eyes widening. The moment he lets go, she steps away uncomfortably, watching him pass her to go to the bathroom. Her heart's pounding, her head is fuzzy... She looks back at him a moment, tempted to go right in there with him-
And to do what, Re-l Mayer? To push the poor man up against the wall and frighten him? Yes, that's a splendid idea. She puts a hand to her forehead for a moment, closing her eyes.]
[He chokes down the water fast enough that some of it slops down his front. It's bitter, and it doesn't settle his stomach, but it does clear his head a bit. He nods shakily and swallows again, but doesn't turn around to look at her as he speaks with a hesitant voice:]
I think - it might be a good idea if you were to, ah...perhaps come in here and...
[And lock the door against me, is what he wants to say - is what he needs to say. Lock me out, lock me away from you. But he just trails off right there.]
[She steps back inside to go help him after a few seconds of hesitation, realizing her clothes are right there on the floor. Well, that solves one problem. With the way he's hunched over, Re-l immediately believes he's taken sick and she strides towards him, touching his back.]
When she touches him, he turns around and grabs her by the upper arms, pushing forward until he has her against the bathroom wall. One arm releases her only to tangle in her wet hair, pulling back her head to tilt her mouth up so he can kiss her forcefully, tongue pressing aggressively between her lips, seeking deeper and harder.]
[Her first reaction is not the best: it's to be entirely still as he shoves her up against the wall and not fight in the very least. Her heart feels like it's going to burst from her chest when he looms over her and grips her hair, pulling her head-
The second reaction, of course, is one of a trained fighter. Re-l's hand flies up to smack into his arm and get him to release her. She lets go of her towel, the cloth secured enough - for the moment - around her torso that it doesn't slip off. Her palm strikes him with little strength behind it, the sort of power a rabbit might have against the wolf that's caught it. His mouth covers hers, needy and ravenous, and she's filled with fear, anxiety, arousal...
The third reaction, however delayed by several seconds, is to respond heatedly, nipping at his lower lip just enough to scold him for scaring her. She swipes the bite with her tongue to apologize right after, her hands relaxing on his arms.]
[He starts to pull back when she hits him, the blow light but still enough to make him realize that he's forcing himself on her. Even through his drugged haze, he knows that that is fundamentally unacceptable - that he is a man of honor, that he is a man who is not violent, that if he were to have a sexual liaison with her it would be completely consensual with clear communication from each side -
But then she starts kissing him back, her lips eager and even that light bite enough to make him catch his breath and groan low. He responds to the encouragement in turn, using his weight to press her back harder into the wall, his hand slipping down to caress the swell of her ass under that towel and then squeezing none too gently. His mouth leaves her lips only long enough to go to her ear, whispering hotly:]
[She moans softly into his mouth, caring little if his body is pressed against hers, even if the positioning is hard and a little uncomfortable. Her senses are clouded beyond him, because all she can see and feel for several seconds is Miles Edgeworth and that's all she really wants. A cry escapes her as he squeezes her rear; she breaks away to take a few shaky breaths, shivering and groaning softly as he presses even closer.]
I- [Her voice catches.] Not in a bathroom.
[There are so many other connotations that she doesn't want to associate them with him. She shoots him a faintly amused look.]
[He makes a small noise of concession, stepping back and catching her eyes. Her amused look...It's at once a bit confusing and deeply helpful. He himself is rather given to intensity, gestures of grave solemnity and enormous significance, so when he'd kissed her, he'd imagined that this would go the same way - solemn and intense. But that slight smile, the quirk of her eyebrow makes this less grave. While that's something of a disappointment, it also means that she's not particularly intimidated by this or by him - and it also means that it's all right to fumble a bit.
And it's not as though she isn't aroused. The sounds she makes show that clearly enough.]
The bed. [He agrees with a shaky nod.] More comfortable. Et cetera.
[Then, burning with embarrassment, but impelled to ask by the spell over both of them, he struggles to inquire:]
Do you have your, ah...handcuffs? Among your things?
[He steps back enough to make her take a deep breath, but that does little to calm her nerves. In fact, her grip on his arm nearly tightens as though she doesn't want him to go. She nearly pulls him right back in to her body, hesitating only because of his concession and his question.
For a moment, she blinks owlishly at him as thought not comprehending what he just asked. Sure enough, however, she toes her clothes daintily until she finds her belt. Kneeling down beside it, she fishes out her cuffs and the key. She surrenders both to him.]
He also desperately wants to know who's in the shower.]
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The water turns off and she squeezes out her black hair, sighing contentedly. Finally, a long shower without being interrupted by phone calls, idle black cats, and men who have no idea how to shave properly.
She wraps a towel around herself and opens the door.]
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Give in to your desires...
But he stops himself, knowledge of what is proper and what is right warring with his desire to slip his fingers under rough tarrycloth and drag downwards. He blinks at her in confusion.]
Ms. Mayer - why are we here?
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Re-l pauses before answering, blinking away what lingering uncertainty she has from her eyes.]
I'm- I'm not sure.
[She realizes, belatedly, that she does not even remember asking for a room. Or to go to a hotel.]
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Nor am I. I think we may have been...drugged, perhaps...
[He shakes his head with difficulty.]
My state is somehow altered.
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You look unkempt. [She presses her fingers to his forehead.] And you're warm. Maybe someone did drug us.
[Why she would wake up and take a shower instead of finding a way out, however, is beyond her.]
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Give in to your desires.
And he presses his eyes shut again, fighting down that hunger. He drops his grip and pulls his head away from her hand, stalking past her into the bathroom to fumble for a glass to fill with water.]
Sorry. Ah - Sorry.
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And to do what, Re-l Mayer? To push the poor man up against the wall and frighten him? Yes, that's a splendid idea. She puts a hand to her forehead for a moment, closing her eyes.]
It's- It's fine. Are you all right?
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I think - it might be a good idea if you were to, ah...perhaps come in here and...
[And lock the door against me, is what he wants to say - is what he needs to say. Lock me out, lock me away from you. But he just trails off right there.]
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Here, sit down. It's...dizzying in here.
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When she touches him, he turns around and grabs her by the upper arms, pushing forward until he has her against the bathroom wall. One arm releases her only to tangle in her wet hair, pulling back her head to tilt her mouth up so he can kiss her forcefully, tongue pressing aggressively between her lips, seeking deeper and harder.]
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The second reaction, of course, is one of a trained fighter. Re-l's hand flies up to smack into his arm and get him to release her. She lets go of her towel, the cloth secured enough - for the moment - around her torso that it doesn't slip off. Her palm strikes him with little strength behind it, the sort of power a rabbit might have against the wolf that's caught it. His mouth covers hers, needy and ravenous, and she's filled with fear, anxiety, arousal...
The third reaction, however delayed by several seconds, is to respond heatedly, nipping at his lower lip just enough to scold him for scaring her. She swipes the bite with her tongue to apologize right after, her hands relaxing on his arms.]
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But then she starts kissing him back, her lips eager and even that light bite enough to make him catch his breath and groan low. He responds to the encouragement in turn, using his weight to press her back harder into the wall, his hand slipping down to caress the swell of her ass under that towel and then squeezing none too gently. His mouth leaves her lips only long enough to go to her ear, whispering hotly:]
What do you want? What is your desire?
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I- [Her voice catches.] Not in a bathroom.
[There are so many other connotations that she doesn't want to associate them with him. She shoots him a faintly amused look.]
Out. There's a bed for a reason.
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And it's not as though she isn't aroused. The sounds she makes show that clearly enough.]
The bed. [He agrees with a shaky nod.] More comfortable. Et cetera.
[Then, burning with embarrassment, but impelled to ask by the spell over both of them, he struggles to inquire:]
Do you have your, ah...handcuffs? Among your things?
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For a moment, she blinks owlishly at him as thought not comprehending what he just asked. Sure enough, however, she toes her clothes daintily until she finds her belt. Kneeling down beside it, she fishes out her cuffs and the key. She surrenders both to him.]
Here.
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