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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 9, 2007 19:53:23 GMT -5
"Very true." He said after a moment of thought.
"But not with you. You know how beautiful you are. Telling you is getting me no where. I suppose I would have to act. But I can't do that. This is like a chess game."
"It is?" Esme asked, raising an eyebrow from behind her sequined mask.
"Well in order for me to win, you have to move into the correct position." He explained.
"That's quite the metaphor, Mr.Squalor."
"Oscar."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 10, 2007 13:49:34 GMT -5
She almost chuckled, and for a moment he was sure she was looking over his shoulder. He quickly checked, but no-one was looking in her direction, there was no-one approaching.
'Right. Oscar.' she agreed. 'But may I enquire what exactly the correct position is?'
Oscar smiled. This was the first time she'd dared enter into playful conversation with him. Perhaps it was the alcohol she'd consumed, or just simply the fact that she wasn't alone on the balcony with so many people looking out for her.
'I don't know. We'll have to see.' he replied, spottng his son.
'You aren't like each other at all,' she told him. 'The apple couldn't have fallen further from the tree.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 11, 2007 11:19:58 GMT -5
"Sometimes the apple rolls down hill and lands under another tree." He explained.
"Hmmm..." she murmured in answer and moved to the railing to look down at the cars below. It was a good pass time, if you weren't afraid of heights.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 11, 2007 15:34:11 GMT -5
'Are you alright out here?' a voice enquired suddenly. Esme whipped around to see Olaf standing with his hands on his hipe, eyebrow furrowed.
She smiled, enjoying his concern. 'yes. Mr Squalor and I are quite alright out here.'
'I think your husband is wondering where you are,' Olaf continued.
'He knows very well I'm out here for some fresh air.'
Why was she doing this? She'd always hated Mr Squalor, to the point of being slightly afraid of him. Why didn't she take the opportunity and flee?
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 13, 2007 9:45:07 GMT -5
Esme saw Jerome looking at her from the drink table. "coming Darling." she shouted. It was heard by other people who smiled at the sweetness of the nickname.
She left the men together, wanting to stay but going for appearances. Usually Mr. Squalor was unpleasant but there was something about him that reminded her of.. Olaf.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2007 10:30:20 GMT -5
Jerome smiled, watching her sway over to him from one of the balcony's and watching his father converse with one of her friends. She and his father seemed to be getting along fine now, to his relief. Mr Squalor was finally convinced, it seemed, of her being genuinely married for love.
Esmé knew otherwise, but of course said nothing.
They did make an incredibly handsome couple together, all eyes on them as they circulated around guests, taking less time on the irritating people.
From outside, Olaf observed both them and the man she had been talking with.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 14, 2007 13:12:30 GMT -5
"Sweet heart....."
"Stop whining. Bed time isn't for a few more hours." Esme said, pushing Jerome off of her.
"But-"
"You really need to stop kissing me. The guest are starting to worry that you're going to start undressing me." she smiled while she said all this to make it look like polite conversation.
"Well...I want to. What time are people going to leave?"
"Some time tomorrow...."
"Tomorrow?"
"As in about 1:00."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 14, 2007 16:23:24 GMT -5
Jerome shook his head. 'No, that's too late. This isn't some--'
She shrugged him off her again, in annoyance. It was starting to become slightly obvious to the people around them that they weren't totally happy anymore. Olaf and Mr Squalor, from the balcony, smiled happily at the situation.
'Jerome, this is a party. Patries don't end at nine o'clock.'
He wanted to argue with her, but she seemed angry and he didn't want to upset her. No, Jerome certainly wouldn't upset her. He went along with it as he was told but she swanned off to talk to the guests without him. They weren't close for the rest of the night.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 15, 2007 18:31:50 GMT -5
Jerome was extremely tired by the end of the night. He laid on the bed and watched her climb out of her costume. It was quite a task to complete, having to get out of all the many different layers.
"Darling...." he said quietly.
"What?" she asked, looking up from peeling her pantyhose off.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 16, 2007 15:28:51 GMT -5
He yawned copiously, collapsing back onto the bed and stretching out his arms tiredly.
'Number One,' he said at length. 'I don't like parties, and I hope you don't plan on having many more in the recent future.'
'Of course I do,' she laughed. Jerome sighed heavily. She was almost annoyed with him, but reminded herself he wouldn't argue with her if she made any sort of decision.
'Number two, I want you to get here within the next minute because I've been waiting four to five hours for you.'
She threw something harmful at him from the other side of the room, which he just had the energy to duck out of the way of.
'Number three,' here he hesitated. 'Do you want me to do something about my father?'
Now she looked up, intruiged. 'Not anymore so than I did the last time we talked about him.'
Jerome sat up slightly. 'No. But do you actually want me to stop him talking to you?'
She folded her arms. 'Not really. He doesn't bother me so much anymore.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 20, 2007 19:05:27 GMT -5
"Why?" He asked with a curious tone. He watched her with his head off the edge of the bed, upside down and allowing all the blood to flow into his head while he watched her.
She was getting into the thinner layers and she was now in a very sequined camisole and underwear. Every piece of under clothing was just as delicately sequined and embroidered.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 26, 2007 10:34:42 GMT -5
She shrugged impatiently. 'I don't know. He's nice to me now. Well, nice isn't the word. He doesn't seem to think us such a bad match.'
Jerome knew she was lying by the way her cheeks flushed and she turned away from him to her wardrobe, but he said nothing about it. As long as she wasn't uncomfortable around his father anymore, that was fine.
'I'm going to take you shopping,' he announced. She looked around boredly.
'What, again?'
He was stunned a little at the response as she climbed into a nightgown. It was dark red, and in his opinion she looked far better in whites and pastels (especially if accompanied by a certain blonde wig), but he said nothing, looking up at her brushing her hair, making sure it was straight again.
'Yes. Well, I thought you liked shopping.'
'On my own, sometimes.' she told him harshly. She got into bed beside him, under the covers, and curled up, turning away.
'Is there something wrong?'
'No.'
'Are you sure?' he asked caringly moving to rub the knots of tension out of her shoulders. He'd only touched her slightly when she pulled away and sighed irritably.
'Yes, Jerome. Just tired.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 26, 2007 14:14:14 GMT -5
Esme rolled to face him. She gave him a hand, so he could be affectionate with something. He kissed her wrists, discovering that she had left on a pearl bracelet he had given her. He smiled, laying the hand on his chest as he fell asleep.
It was almost 3 in the morning when Esme woke up with a start. She was breathing heavy with a cold sweat, while her husband slept peacefully. She made her way to the nearest kitchen and poured a glass of water and cut herself a piece of cake left over from the party.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 27, 2007 7:40:36 GMT -5
She found it difficult to eat the cake-- too dry a base, it seemed, and the icing was too sweet. She remembered thinking it was lovely earlier--and instead settled on her glass of water, slowly destructing the piece of cake in front of her into little pieces on the plate.
She leant forwards on her left arm, holding the water. She noticed it was shaking, the water moving slightly in the glass. She frowned. She couldn't be ill. Being ill was horrible, as far as she remembered (well, she remembered being on her own in a very big, windy house and not being able to stand up without stumbling and falling. She told Olaf he was useless the moment he arrived back, even when he did endeavour to help her to bed and tuck her in, laughing all the while) and besides she really was quite busy at the moment, following the whereabouts of the Baudebrats and trying to assist in stealing their moeny. Really, it was quite a difficult job.
She yawned. Maybe she wasn't ill, she reasoned with herself, just a little tired from the party.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 27, 2007 11:55:36 GMT -5
She had the strong sudden desire to be in a bathroom and she walked off down the hall to one. It had been years since she had been sick to her stomach, yet no it seemed like it wasn't very far off.
*
Half an hour later she was positive that she had nothing left in hr body. Every glass of champagne, every hours d'oeuvre was done. Jerome came sleepy-eyed in to find her. "Are you okay?"
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