[Well then indeed, and for just a moment, Rosalind pauses. It isn't a hesitation, but rather a moment in which she allows herself the room to think.
So. So there's a man leaning in, clearly eager to kiss her. What does she want to do about that? No, wait-- there's only two real decisions she can make, so rather the question becomes: what are the factors that contribute to each one?
Emotional, that's the first thing that comes to mind, but ah, there's nothing here to worry about there. Flings, kissing and flirting and all that, have never been a problem when it comes to she and Robert. Love, that's another thing entirely, but Ros very much doubts Eggsy is the sort to take a kiss or two as an indication of love. No, if they do this (whatever this is), it's going to be something purely self-indulgent. It might be more on the sweet side (because he seems very sweet beneath that pride), but it won't be anything approaching romantic.
Is that selfish? Perhaps. But she hasn't gotten to be selfish since before her death, frankly. A hundred and twenty-two trials, god, watching the same man fail over and over, a hundred and twenty-two exercises in futility and then when it had finally all gone right, she and Robert had been denied their reward. So isn't she owed a bit of selfishness?
It's scandalous, too, but honestly, that's barely a thought. She's never much cared about the standards of others beyond what she needed to know to get ahead. And anyway, even if this was forbidden at home, they're hardly in Columbia, are they? The whole beach would be considered a scandal at home; a bit of kissing on top of it isn't worth much.
And he's quite appealing. And she's very warm, and her shirt is starting to stick to her skin, and while the logical little core at the center of her mind is impatiently listing out all the reasons she oughtn't do this (she doesn't know him, she doesn't know the repercussions, simply because he seems sweet doesn't mean he is, she's still establishing herself and what if he goes off to tell stories, what if this damages her reputation in some way, what if she can't find a job because of this, this is stupid, this is silly, she doesn't need this, she ought to just get up and go and dive into her work), she doesn't seem to really be able to hear them all that well.
All of that flashes by in a moment, and then her smile turns decidedly sharper.]
Would you? I'm at least a decade older than you, Mr. Unwin.
[ He remains unsure of what to think of the edge to her smile. Eggsy believes he isn't so fragile as to cut himself on it — but he hardly knows her, really, even if he believes he knows enough. Her age hadn't even been considered as a factor (the age she hails from had been a more interesting thought; a distant past, perhaps). 'Course he knows she's older, given her titles. Doctor and now Madam.
Any tension from waiting bleeds out in a light laugh. ]
Oh, come off it. You're well-fit. [ Ah, will she understand that? ] Pretty, I mean. [ and she must be aware of it. She carries herself with confidence, even if she doesn't strike him as the sort to usually kiss young men ten years her junior. ] And I'm already a walking-talking scandal, aren't I?
[ He pulls back just a touch, however, not wanting to push her more than his brazen request already did. Eggsy has always been of the mindset that people will act with interest, if they're interested. They'll say what they want, if you're only willing to ask. And if someone wants a kiss — well, they won't pass up the opportunity for one. Maybe that makes him a romantic. ]
[No, she's very confident in her own appearance, though it's not something she has any particular pride in. Rosalind raises an eyebrow when he draws back, not certain if he's changed his mind, but-- oh. no. No, he hasn't. He's giving her the option to plunge on ahead, and it just reaffirms what she'd thought before: sweet.
She isn't, but he is, and that's nice. Rosalind hooks two fingers beneath his chin, tipping his head up just a little. Her smile is still there, sharp but not unfriendly. After a moment, her grip shifts, her fingers wrapping lightly around his chin so she can brush her thumb lightly against his bottom lip.]
But you are that. If I hear word of this outside this cove, Eggsy, I'll be quite disappointed.
[ There's no mistaking the soft glide of her fingers on his chin and the brush of her thumb against his mouth — Rosalind must have an interest in scandal. He feels his pulse quicken under his skin. It's not that it's been a while since he's kissed a girl, exactly, with Dutch catching him shortly after his arrival on Thesa Station. What he hasn't had since before Kingsman training is this: tension ratcheting and coy insinuations, circling each other until someone finally gives. And not with a girl from his neighborhood or a boy on a night out, no, but a woman secure in her skin, who wouldn't look twice at Eggsy, if they ever had any reason to meet in London.
He parts his lips invitingly and leans forward once more. He may be sweet to the core, but he's very attracted to her, too, eyes glittering with interest over being able to touch her — and the idea of having to keep his mouth shut because she asked, though he doesn't dwell on that line of thought. ]
[ His voice drops to a low murmur. ] Well, I'd hate to disappoint you.
[ With that, he brings a hand to the nape of her neck, toying with the hair there, and presses his mouth to hers, firm, chaste, testing. ]
[Strictly speaking, it's only been a few weeks since she's been kissed herself, but still Rosalind leans into it just as eagerly as if it's been ages. His mouth is hard and he kisses with confidence, and god, but she's hungry for it. Her hand settles lightly on his shoulder, but that doesn't last.
Because, see, Robert is, of course, the ideal man. No one could or will ever match Robert, not in Rosalind's mind. But Eggsy is very attractive, and very wet, and very shirtless, and how is she meant to resist that? So no, her hand doesn't stay on his shoulder. She drags it over his torso like she's got a right to it; like they've done this often enough that she knows she's allowed. Down the lines of his body, over his torso, her fingers firm and ever-moving.
(What is she doing? She'll wonder at this later. She'll be horrified at this later, frankly, but not for any reason to do with Eggsy himself. Madam Lutece can't ever go around kissing anyone, not ever, and especially not some strange boy ten years younger than her. She'll burn with embarrassment and choke with the horror of what might have happened, but oh, that's for later).
For now, she opens her mouth to it, her tongue slipping forward, because what's the point of being older and more experienced if you don't do anything with it?]
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originallutece) wrote2017-09-22 05:41 pm
no subject
So. So there's a man leaning in, clearly eager to kiss her. What does she want to do about that? No, wait-- there's only two real decisions she can make, so rather the question becomes: what are the factors that contribute to each one?
Emotional, that's the first thing that comes to mind, but ah, there's nothing here to worry about there. Flings, kissing and flirting and all that, have never been a problem when it comes to she and Robert. Love, that's another thing entirely, but Ros very much doubts Eggsy is the sort to take a kiss or two as an indication of love. No, if they do this (whatever this is), it's going to be something purely self-indulgent. It might be more on the sweet side (because he seems very sweet beneath that pride), but it won't be anything approaching romantic.
Is that selfish? Perhaps. But she hasn't gotten to be selfish since before her death, frankly. A hundred and twenty-two trials, god, watching the same man fail over and over, a hundred and twenty-two exercises in futility and then when it had finally all gone right, she and Robert had been denied their reward. So isn't she owed a bit of selfishness?
It's scandalous, too, but honestly, that's barely a thought. She's never much cared about the standards of others beyond what she needed to know to get ahead. And anyway, even if this was forbidden at home, they're hardly in Columbia, are they? The whole beach would be considered a scandal at home; a bit of kissing on top of it isn't worth much.
And he's quite appealing. And she's very warm, and her shirt is starting to stick to her skin, and while the logical little core at the center of her mind is impatiently listing out all the reasons she oughtn't do this (she doesn't know him, she doesn't know the repercussions, simply because he seems sweet doesn't mean he is, she's still establishing herself and what if he goes off to tell stories, what if this damages her reputation in some way, what if she can't find a job because of this, this is stupid, this is silly, she doesn't need this, she ought to just get up and go and dive into her work), she doesn't seem to really be able to hear them all that well.
All of that flashes by in a moment, and then her smile turns decidedly sharper.]
Would you? I'm at least a decade older than you, Mr. Unwin.
no subject
Any tension from waiting bleeds out in a light laugh. ]
Oh, come off it. You're well-fit. [ Ah, will she understand that? ] Pretty, I mean. [ and she must be aware of it. She carries herself with confidence, even if she doesn't strike him as the sort to usually kiss young men ten years her junior. ] And I'm already a walking-talking scandal, aren't I?
[ He pulls back just a touch, however, not wanting to push her more than his brazen request already did. Eggsy has always been of the mindset that people will act with interest, if they're interested. They'll say what they want, if you're only willing to ask. And if someone wants a kiss — well, they won't pass up the opportunity for one. Maybe that makes him a romantic. ]
no subject
[No, she's very confident in her own appearance, though it's not something she has any particular pride in. Rosalind raises an eyebrow when he draws back, not certain if he's changed his mind, but-- oh. no. No, he hasn't. He's giving her the option to plunge on ahead, and it just reaffirms what she'd thought before: sweet.
She isn't, but he is, and that's nice. Rosalind hooks two fingers beneath his chin, tipping his head up just a little. Her smile is still there, sharp but not unfriendly. After a moment, her grip shifts, her fingers wrapping lightly around his chin so she can brush her thumb lightly against his bottom lip.]
But you are that. If I hear word of this outside this cove, Eggsy, I'll be quite disappointed.
no subject
He parts his lips invitingly and leans forward once more. He may be sweet to the core, but he's very attracted to her, too, eyes glittering with interest over being able to touch her — and the idea of having to keep his mouth shut because she asked, though he doesn't dwell on that line of thought. ]
[ His voice drops to a low murmur. ] Well, I'd hate to disappoint you.
[ With that, he brings a hand to the nape of her neck, toying with the hair there, and presses his mouth to hers, firm, chaste, testing. ]
no subject
Because, see, Robert is, of course, the ideal man. No one could or will ever match Robert, not in Rosalind's mind. But Eggsy is very attractive, and very wet, and very shirtless, and how is she meant to resist that? So no, her hand doesn't stay on his shoulder. She drags it over his torso like she's got a right to it; like they've done this often enough that she knows she's allowed. Down the lines of his body, over his torso, her fingers firm and ever-moving.
(What is she doing? She'll wonder at this later. She'll be horrified at this later, frankly, but not for any reason to do with Eggsy himself. Madam Lutece can't ever go around kissing anyone, not ever, and especially not some strange boy ten years younger than her. She'll burn with embarrassment and choke with the horror of what might have happened, but oh, that's for later).
For now, she opens her mouth to it, her tongue slipping forward, because what's the point of being older and more experienced if you don't do anything with it?]