Slowly, baby, slowly (Mino)

[Fawn]

34th of Frost, 120xx

A new flurry of snow came down outside the Velvet Cabaret while inside pale legs slipped themselves into sheer white stockings. Vibrant, red curls cascaded down the back of one Fawn Brisbane, her freckled shoulders peeking out from the curtains of hair as she pulled up and slipped her toes into a set of light pink heels. She was a vision of the countryside, clad in a short white dress who’s pink corset ties matched those of her heels. The skirt was flowy, ending with a swish at the base of her rear that teased a hint of what lie underneath. To which, if one were lucky enough, would find a set of lace white panties. A white satin ribbon was strung around her neck, tied in a bow at the front, and butterflied down to reach her collarbones.

She’d just finished her first stage performance of the night, a saucy group number where they had worn matching black outfits. But now it was time to debut her new solo. One she’d been practicing for the past week. Her heart raced as she combed through her hair one last time with excited fingers.

And then, it was time. She rushed to the entrance curtain and nodded to the band, signaling her ready, and waited.
But it was her voice that carried first, soft, sultry, heady as she stuck one leg out to the crowd and pulled herself through the curtain.

Oh darling, don’t cross it
The distance between our lips is still 50cm
Stop trying to tempt the innocent me
with sweet and obvious words

She did not bend or contort for this performance. Instead, she let the choreographed lights dim as one spotlight followed her around the stage. She strutted, sauntered, dragging one toe behind each time and flicking her hip at whoever happened to be lucky enough to sit close to the stage. A glimpse of her creamy skin flashed briefly before being stolen away by the next verse.

Love, this love will be perfect
Largo, adagio, don’t rush
Slowly, baby slowly, very slow, with a slow tempo

Oh darling, don’t cross it
The distance between our lips is still 50cm

Her eyes locked on the guests as she bent down to their level and sat at the edge of the stage. Her voice, soft, left her lips as sweet as honeyed milk as she teased her red lips closer to one of the men before giving him a glance under her skirt as she rose to twirl slowly across the stage. One hand cupped around her thigh, the other running through her hair.

With honest words,
until I can feel it
your dark heart

The distance is 50 cm
Love, this love will be perfect
Largo, adagio, don’t rush
Slowly, baby slowly, very slow,
with a slow tempo

Fawn’s vibrato, controlled, perfected, slowing and quickening with each verse to tell her story of an innocent girl struggling with her own desires. Her crystal blue eyes shimmered as the lights of the stage contoured her face and showed off the pale, moon-like skin contrasted by vibrant ginger locks. Her lips, as pink as her outfit, teasing the crowd as she ran her tongue along the top before pulling it back into her mouth.

Save me for a little longer
The distance between our lips is still 50cm
Hush hush baby, push me oh baby
Please listen to this small request
Hush hush baby, cherish me baby

When the song finished and the last notes of piano trailed off, hungry eyes stared back at her while tempted hands clapped and cheered. Fawn stuck her tongue between teeth as she grinned, bowed, and rushed off stage.

“Well, wasn’t that one of your more provocative performances. Soon no one will believe you’re actually a virgin.” One of the dancers commented, smiling and giving the girl a welcomed high five for her dance.

“Aye, well, it doesnna matter t’me whether or not they believe it.” Fawn grinned.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t go given’ up tonight, Fawn. Lunaria will have a fit if you do before she’s taught ya anything.”

The girl simply nodded as she skipped off through the doors and entered the main room, this time on the same level as the guests who she’d just enchanted with her performance, and looked around to see if anyone seemed to desire her continued company.


Song

[Mino]

Mino was no stranger to slinking through the dark corners of the Cabaret. On some cold Frost nights, he would find himself purring his way through the back door, greeted by hands between his ears as his tail flicked. The warmth of the kitchens was always a good stop. But that wasn’t quite the dark corner he found himself in. Seated far back, closer to the bar where the lights just barely reached, Mino took another pleased sip of his drink. The offwhite of the milk stood in contrast with the deep blue — almost black — of the durumagi he wore. It draped off his shoulders, making him smaller. It hid him just right.

Being no stranger to this place oft meant that he fit right in. People that would have taken a second look before paid him no mind now. And those that did — well. The drink currently sitting untouched next to his milk might show for that attention. The woman had slurred her apologies with heavy-lidded eyes and he’d sent her off with his usual smile. The gesture was a familiar one even in settings unlike this, and yet. Not quite as satisfactory. And as much as he had enjoyed the slip of his hands in the delightful, tinkling melody of her coin purse, his purpose here tonight was not that. Didn’t mean he couldn’t take a coin or two. He twirled it around in his hand, let it catch the light until it didn’t.

The lights faded around him as the stage lit up, signaling the next performance. Sometimes he enjoyed them, sometimes he would be a patron up at the front to at least not seem suspicious. But tonight, not so much.

The sweetest voice he’d ever heard made him decide on otherwise, though.

Like any other patron, his attention was grabbed. Arrested by the allure of what else would be shown from the curtain. The cadence of her voice was familiar, like he’d heard before. Just like her leg was familiar — like he’d seen the curve of it in moonlight. Which, he had. He could put that much together when Fawn finally put the rest of herself on stage beyond the curtain. His brows rose at the sight of her.

It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting, but he did remember her saying she worked here at the Cabaret. Performances. She could certainly put on a show. The coin was forgotten, left to clink down onto the counter and be snatched up as if it were a tip that would grow legs and run away. He didn’t care much. His fingers occupied themselves with his glass, one hand cupping his chin as he watched, unblinking. The sweep of her tongue over her lip was mirrored by his own, taking with it the complimenting notes of honeyed milk to match her voice trailing down his throat.

A grin settled over his face as the lights faded and the song ended, the trance over the other patrons and himself broken. If he’d thought her magic before, he most certainly did now. He blinked, finally, as an orkhan customer seated themself close to where he was. Oh? Scents were easy to pick up on the longer he spent around them. One of interest, of excitement, was easier to detect. Something like a zing of orange, a dash of cinnamon; slicked over with sweat. He blinked again, glanced the other’s way when the scent rose and just barely drowned out the sunshine headed their way.

She still smelled like lavender and fresh-cut grass. Like a field in bloom. He stifled his grin and turned his attention back to the nearly glowing glass of cooling milk. The peek of the white underside of his hair might have been the same color, hit with a similar glow. And he might have felt the pull of a smile at the thought of playing the part of a drunk patron. But — they were both working. Technically, he was assisting, but that made no difference.

[Fawn]

34th of Frost, 120xx

Fawn slid through the aisles and maze of guests that were scattered throughout the floor. Some peered up at her, while others avoided her gaze entirely, intent on watching the next show and bothered by her blocking their view. The performance had gone exactly how she wanted, aside from the fact that she hadn't quite been able to nail one one particular spin and had omitted it entirely from her dance, of course. Watching the other dancers had been helping the past week. But she wanted more. Wanted to do more. To be more. In a way she felt rushed, impatient, and wondered if finding a dance partner would had made things easier. But so far, everyone had their own 'thing', their own schedules. In the end it only meant she'd have to practice harder.

But first, clients.

Pale limbs slipped carefully through the rows of guests until she made her way to the bar where, mostly, the guests kept to themselves. There was a certain flow to the establishment, she'd realized. The bold, brave few with coin to spare sat near the stage. They knew how to call who they wanted as well as shoo away any they didn't, and they weren't shy about it. Towards the back of the rows were the newcomers, those who wanted to watch or simply arrived late. Then you had the hookah lounge- usually where people would go with another to flirt and touch before making their way upstairs, high on some form of magic or another. And finally, the bar. Those who stood had plans of moving, while those in bar stools were the type want company to come to them or not at all. Which was perfect for Fawn, as with one glance she could tell if her presence was wanted. Eye contact meant yes, mainly. Those who didn't even raise their head preferred to keep to themselves.

And luck was on her side that night. Standing in the glow of one of the bar lights was Malik, the orkhan from just a few nights ago. She grinned broadly as their eyes met, and was met with the suddenly abused smirk of the ork. Their tusks glinted, shimmering in the lights as they moved forward to greet the farmgirl. Excitement fluttered through Fawn, her first repeat client!

"Well, it's nice to see you again, my Fawn." They turned, slipping an arm over Fawn's shoulder as they did and directing her towards the bar. Fawn laced her fingers with Malik's atop her shoulder and followed. "I'm so glad ye came back, Malik! What kept ye so long?" She asked, plopping herself down on a chair. Malik had noticed the other man sitting just a few chairs down, eyeing their prize, and decided to take their spot in-between the two. With a knowing, possessive grin flashed to Mino, Malik turned back to Fawn.

"Work. You know how politics can be. So tell me, where did you get this little outfit?" The ork asked. In reality, they'd come back every single night since the first. Searching, waiting for Fawn for her virginity. But each time they were left with nothing, and the one night she had been there had been preoccupied by the attentions of some gruff looking human. Malik smiled, though, now with Fawn by their side, running thick fingers over their waistline, pulling her closer, and twisting the ends of the girls dress in their fingers. They shifted their weight to block view of Mino from behind them, though one could assume the gesture was as much about blocking him from her as it was her from him. Fawn, oblivious to the intentions behind Malik's movement, simply waved down the bartender with a smile.

"One of the shops downtown, I canna remember it's name. I never knew such little fabric could cost so much!" She grinned at the bartender and ordered her usual; a warmed cup of hard cider with honey. Malik raised a brow, and while doing so, they took another glance at Fawn. This time studying more. The same aggressive, possessive feelings from before came up. They wanted to bite her neck. Kiss her lips, draw blood from her veins with their tusks and leave bruises scattered across their form like the rough mountainsides of Ransera. To ravish her pure, innocent body with whatever phallic object they could find and lick the tears of pain from her cheeks.

They took a breath, shaky, then let it out with a frown.

"This won't do." They said, drawing Fawn's eyes up to them. She stared, concerned for a moment. "Are ye okay, Malik?" She asked, placing a hand on their arm. Malik stilled themselves. They had waited. They wanted their first lay of the season to be with her, to spoil her, but the wait was getting too long. Some may have called the ork impatient, they would claim they merely knew what they wanted. And that was an innocent.

"Touch me." They said. It was a demand. A command. Fawn blinked, staring into Malik's eyes in search of 'why' their tone had become so... stiff. "I- if yer askin me to touch ye like they do upstairs, I canna do that here. Or tonight. I apologize, Malik, but Lunaria won't have me doing such things yet." Fawn's expression was sorrowful, as if she'd felt guilty. And truth be told she did. She wished she could touch them the way they wanted, but not only was it not allowed yet, she didn't even know how.

Malik sighed. Their brow twitch, followed by their lip. "It's fine. But I do not like to be kept waiting. I had assumed you were... more readily available." They huffed, annoyed, but knowing it best to keep their calm adjusted the jacket upon their shoulders and began to walk away without a word. Moments later they had gone, leaving Fawn sitting at the bar confused and sorrowful. When the door closed, Fawn sighed and turned back to accept the cider from Tony. "Thanks to ye." She said softly, raising her glass to the man and taking the first swig of warm, mulled cider.

As she brought the glass down from her lips, though, it was then her eyes fell upon a familiar face.

"Mino?" She blinked. Suddenly forgetting her previous worry, she hopped towards him with a wide grin. "Hey! What's a cat doin' in a bar?" She asked with a tease, a hint of the spiced cider upon her tongue.

[Mino]

Oh, he’d done this song and dance before. Something to give Candy an edge from time to time, but his brows rose in slight surprise all the same. Fawn couldn’t have been working here very long and yet — that scent just stronger with each step the woman took toward the ork. While the other might have seen his gaze as possessive — far from it; he’d thought she’d walk right on past him in the dimness of the auditorium. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to do that before someone was on her. Impressed would not be the right word. Not with the way his stomach coiled. He let his smile linger, even as the scent wafting over to him made the milk taste sour.

He wasn’t far enough away that he couldn’t not hear their conversation. As much as Mino would have wanted to be oblivious to it. It wasn’t the same as when it was Blush or Candy, but it was worse. His urge to gag at the possessive — their Fawn. Fawn hadn’t seemed much the type to belong to anyone. He snorted, drew the gaze of one or two other patrons as he lifted the glass to his lips once more. Milk sat on his top lip, his brows furrowed as he stared down at his empty glass. The bartender had moved on. Much like the conversation beside him.

The hairs on the back of Mino’s neck stood. This was her job, much like his was probably something she’d try to put him off. She’d tried telling him breaking and entering was a crime; of which, he was guilty of numerous counts. He’d lost track of the number of pockets he’d picked. The number of people he’d smiled in the face of before lifting something from their home. Mino didn’t necessarily have a problem with this so much as he had a problem with them, the ork.

They reeked of impatience. They reeked of want, more so than any Rathari that lingered in the vicinity. His ear twitched as the other demanded touch and Fawn regrettably declined. She soured. His gaze jerked back toward them, the furrow in his brow even deeper. The stool beside him was soon vacated, and Fawn was left alone in the lingering stench of arousal and spurned desire. Maybe the ork would have applauded themselves for having the strength to walk away, but Mino certainly thought some praise was due for not making a snide remark that would have surely gotten him into trouble.

The sour notes of her scent were lifted soon enough as they locked eyes and maybe that made the withholding of his comments more worth it. His grin spread in response to her own, head tipped forward. The raise of his brow followed the opening of his arm to her, something of an offering. If she chose to take, she’d find his face pressed against the side of her own, nuzzling into her.

“Oh, just dropping by for a sip of cream.” His words were edged with a purr, pleased as he inhaled her scent. Tampered with by others, but still there. “And to see you. There’s a lot of word going around about you, you know.” He drew back a moment to flick at the curls by her neck, purr still going. “You were quite surprising up there, little mouse.”

[Fawn]

34th of Frost, 120xx

Had it not been for the sight of Mino, she might have found herself much more upset than ideal. It wasn't something she enjoyed, leaving someone unsatisfied, but this was one request she couldn't have fulfilled even if she'd wanted to. Of course, she'd also been oblivious to the horror of the scene Malik had desired, too. So, she entered Mino's embrace gladly. Her scent wrapping around him in tandem with her arms that clung to the back of his shirt tightly.

"I've missed ye!" She said, a smile pressed into his chest as she breathed him in and sighed contently. He was here. Part of her had woken up the morning after their... entanglement and wondered if she'd dreamt it all. But he he was, flesh and blood, warm, and purring into her flushing cheeks. Her heart had begun to quicken, skip, dance in her chest once again. His very presence exciting her in ways she questioned were even healthy.

"Mouse?" She asked, bringing her hands up to pat the top of her hear as if looking for ears that may have been there. Of course, she found nothing, and blinked at him with confusion straining on her brow. "Cream?..." Her eyes fell to his empty glass, before they went wide in realization. "Oh! One sec!"[/b] Fawn's lips curled into a devious smirk that pushed her dappled freckles up to her eyes. They glistened in the light of the candles by the bar before she rushed off. Through the aisles of chairs, her hair bouncing behind her and leaving a trail of her scent in it's wake. Perhaps a few other rathari in the bar had caught wind, or maybe it was just the regulars, but the quick glimpse of her rear as her skirt flicked up with each step left all behind her nearly drooling.

But then she disappeared behind a curtain. The crowd that had eyed her left searching for her return, but when she did she didn't stop at them, even as they called out to her her mind was set on one man. And as she hurried back to Mino, her eyes locked on a tall glass of cream in her hands, she held a proud grin. Her eyes flicked from glass to his eyes as she approached and finally set the glass in front of him.

"There!"She exclaimed, beaming. "One glass of cream and honey for the only cat I like!" Fawn dipped her pinkie in it, then brought it to her lips and gently licked the taste from her finger. Her tongue curling around the finger, before disappearing behind her lips. "Perfect, it's warmed but not too hot, too!"

The girl picked up her own glass of mulled cider and took a sip of the warm liquid, then hopped herself up on the stool next to him. Nearly bouncing in place. "So." She said, leaning one elbow down on the bar and resting her chin on her hand. Her eyes, crystal blue but swimming with speaks of reflected candlelight, were directed at him. She was flushing. Excited. Innocent and purely unaware of the attention she had snatched from around the bar. Whether it be her outfit or her dance or her voice, at least half the guests looked to Mino with a mixture of jealousy and disgust. As if he'd snatched her away from them.

"I know ye didn't stop here just for cream, Mino. First me house, now me work... Ya fancy me or somethin? Cause if ye do, yer gonna haf'ta pay up~" She teased, scrunching her nose at him and feigning a bat of her lashes at him. She trailed the gesture off with a giggle. "I'm kiddin' ya. I don't even do that stuff yet, but if ye want we can lounge in the hookah area over there. It's a bit quieter, and the couches are sooooo comfy I could just melt in them!

[Mino]

She’d missed him.

He could understand the words and the full concept of “missing someone,” but he was used to something more shallow. Not quite so direct. It felt foreign to him to hear those words. Maybe it was the setting. Mino decided it had everything to do with the low lights and the people eying them. The same that had done well to leave him be as he had intended.

At her confusion for the nickname, he felt the urge to pinch one of those sun-kissed cheeks. Maybe it was more fitting than he had known it would be. But before his fingers could brush against her skin, she was gone. He blinked, watched her retreating form disappear behind the curtain. He blinked, a laugh lost just behind his teeth. Around him, eyes were on him. Not unusual; he was used to this. He was an impressive figure in the public eye, though he was sure there were some who didn’t quite like him. Not like he could please everyone.

Mino’s brow rose as Fawn reemerged from beyond the curtain, a glass in hand. The white liquid swirled around in the glass, not quite steaming. Lavender and honey and lazy days in the sun were under his nose as she returned to him. The tension of the room was forgotten in favor of inhaling the scent coming from her and the glass.

“I hope you didn’t have to bribe anyone to get me this.” His eyes widened, accenting his words with a bit of surprise. “I would hate to think I’ve tarnished a lady’s honor for a glass of cream.” His hand was around her waist, pulling her in closer. Warmth from the glass, her body all radiated into him. The purring started again, eyelids drooping.

While she might not have noticed it — she seemed one of singular focus once her sight was set upon something — Mino was very aware of the gazes on her. On him. That, and the resentment that hung in the air. The palpable disgust that flooded the room, threatened to wash over the sweetness of her. His grin widened, eyes sweeping over the room as if he was considering her offer to change locations. His tongue caught the trail of milk still left over his lip, a gleam of teeth and a glint in his eyes.

“Would it be wrong if I fancied you?” He left his glass long enough to toy with her curls again. Mino gaze dipped down to her throat, the ribbon around her neck. If she swallowed, he could watch the bob of the fabric moving around the action. Another lick of his lips, the flick of his eyes up to her face. He could draw a pattern on those freckles, if he really wanted to. He kind of did. Maybe another time. Her heartbeat was loud in his ear as he leaned forward to press his forehead to his shoulder.

“I don’t want to move.” It was every bit a declaration and something to buy him a little bit of time like this. “You’re warm and comfy enough for me.” He turned his head enough that his lashes brushed against her skin. “And I doubt it would be quiet for long with you there. Can’t be sure you won’t just get me there to throw up on me again.”

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his family, which only be the turn of the conversation if he actually answered her question. There’d be no way to sugarcoat it. Or avoiding it soon enough.

[Fawn]

34th of Frost, 120xx

Warmth. Not just from the mingling bodies of the cabaret or the mug of mulled cider, but from him. Her body pressed to him, her skin on fire suddenly as if lit from his very touch. Her cheeked reddened, as if they could any further, but she smiled. A sight that could blind even the sun."Nah, I just toss 'em a silver and said I had'te treat a friend! No tarnished lady here." For that moment while he distracted himself with the room, she stared at him. Studying this new angle of his face unlike she'd been able to do the night in her bathroom. But it was the same. A chiseled jawline, keen eyes, soft hair and sharp teeth. It was all somehow perfectly, uniquely Mino.

In studying him so intently she nearly missed his question. But as the words settled into her mind she stilled. There had been something serious about his tone. Something playful, coy, devious. Her skin tingled and goosebumps played atop her pale flesh, crawling up to her collarbones that glistened with a tiny sheen of sweat from her dance. "I-" And then his fingers were in her hair. Twirling, toying with her and her copper curls. Her head felt light, her body heavy, her chest fluttered threatening to take it sky high unless she calmed its beating. Parted lips inhaled a deep breath as she gulped down her nerves. The same nerves that had plagued her on their second meeting. The same nerves she thought were due to her drunkenness.

"I wouldn't call it wrong, but-" His head on her shoulder thumped down, heavy, keeping her place and yet not at all. Her heart quickened. It was then, over his bent form, that she caught the gaze of countless onlookers. She could see a few whispering to each other, some sneering while other smirked. She turned her confusion down towards Mino. It was possibly the first time she'd felt unnerved by others looks. She'd spent years failing, making mistake after mistake in her dances and singing but not once had she felt embarrassment or shyness. But here, somehow within his touch, she felt all of it. As if to quiet those emotions she threaded her fingers through his hair and turned her nose to him, breathing in his scent and letting her nails gently scratch the back of his head and up to the crown, then back down again in a perfect, fluid stroke.

His lashes and breath ghosting, tickling her neck only drew her to gulp again, but his jest staggered her from the nerves just enough to let out a laugh. "Hey, I won't be doing that again! I haven't had more than a few sips tonight and I don't think I'll be playing 'catch the cat' again anytime soon either." She pulled away from him then, just enough to look into his eyes and slipped her hands away from his head. She let one fall down to his side while the other rested on his chest. Warmth spread through her fingers though she wasn't sure if it was from his heart or her own nervous one.

"Well, I'm not meant to be on stage the rest of the night. But I think a few people are uh.. wishing we'd move." She said, taking Mino by the hand then and looking towards the curtained lounge. "Let's just sit in there." Fawn lead him then, protesting or not, into the darkened area of couches and drugs. She pulled them in to one of the smaller set ups where a short couch sat mirroring another and encompassing a table with a glass hookah sitting atop it. She wasn't one for drugs, at least she didn't think she was, but the privacy and lack of judging eyes was comfortable. Plus, she could focus on him here.

As she sat down she pulled him with her and let out a relaxed, relieved sigh. She placed her mug down on the table in front of her and leaned back on the couch. Likely enchanted to do so, the curtains had muffled the outside noise of guests flirting with courtesans, as well as the light. Inside their walls were only a few candles. Their light danced off Fawn's skin and though bright, the dim lighting still darkened her eyes as she peered to Mino, a sheepish grin on her pinkened lips. "Thank the gods- I'm sorry, Mino, I just got a tad overwhelmed with all the people starin'." A first. Part of her wanted to know why she felt so nervous. Why she'd needed to get out of the prying eyes, hungry and angry stares. She didn't want to admit that she knew why, though. That her desire to have him behind the curtains was also horribly, deliciously selfish.

[Mino]

Fawn’s scent grew sweeter with each passing second. More enticing. Being as close as they were made it even sweeter. Moving would disrupt it, disperse it further into the air and it wouldn’t be for just him to smell. Mino would have pulled her in closer, held her fixed in one place — if not for the bitter notes that hit his nose. His nose scrunched up as she lifted his head, purr still rumbling in his chest and eyes trained on her. Much like all the others now. That must be it. Must have been the reason she was starting to smell like the burn of wood and the powdered roots Rose liked so much.

“Aww, but I don’t wanna.” He might have sounded like a child, complaining as he did. He wriggled a bit in his seat, pushed out his lips in a pout. But he didn’t resist when she lead him by the hand. He looped his fingers with hers, marveled a little at the difference in size. His smile was small, and the thought of all these eyes were far gone — but never forgotten completely. He made sure to snatch his glass of cream up before they left.

With the curtain closed and the quiet swaddling them, the bitter touches to her scent were melting away. No more burning roots. Sweet, as it should be. He was aware, though, that the cause of it was him. In a way. The gazes on her had first been on him, watching and waiting for something to talk about. Certainly, they had something now. He only hoped it didn’t make things less than pleasant for her. She pulled him down with her, breathed out a sigh. She had noticed all the staring, all the watching.

His eyes narrowed. “Not the same as when you’re on stage, huh?” In the low light, it was hard not for his gaze to trail. To flit from the planes of her face to the shadows over her skin. He reached out to toy with the ribbon this time, the tips of his fingers brushing against skin.

Mino’s head tipped to the side, eyes sliding back up to her face. It would be insensitive to say that she ought to get used to it, wouldn’t it? Not the comfort she needed, and most certainly not from the source of the discomfort. Not from someone who had dealt with it for so long, he could just barely tune it out if he really wanted to. Or had developed some careful coping mechanisms that may or may not have involved robbing everyone that had looked at him funny.

“I think they might have been looking at me.” A distraction, a side step. But most importantly: the truth. “Probably all jealous that I got you to come talk to me.” At this, he smile extended, a canine flashed. “They might be wondering how I got so lucky. My theory rests that I was simply born lucky.” Maybe an abundance of some kind of luck, but not the sort that the other patrons would truly understand. A double-edged sword, luck was. It seemed to knick every time he used an ounce of it up.

He paused a moment, then wrapped an arm around Fawn, before throwing them both back on the couch. Had her face to his chest, chin resting on the top of her head. His purring vibrated through both of them. It would most definitely be more a scene to expect within the cabaret if someone were to walk in, her on top of him with his hands on her waist and her back. “You offered me cuddles before, and since I ‘hafta pay up,’ I think I’ll be making the most of it.”

Mino moved one hand to twine their fingers together again, pulling her hand up to his head before releasing it. He gave her fingers a pat. “Headscratches, too, please.”

[Fawn]

34th of Frost, 120xx

Without the light and commotion of the stage, she could focus. No more prying, hungry, disappointed eyes to follow their every movement also made it easier to forget the world around them. She laughed. "Aye, on stage the lights block me vision from seein' the rest of the room. It's so bright ye can't make out anythin' past the-" Interrupted by the whisper of his fingers against her neck, a soft gasp left her. Her eyes became hazy with the sudden rush of heat throughout her body. Starting where he had touched, travelling down like tendrils, teasing, to forbidden places.

She'd felt something similar before. Tiny hints at such feelings throughout her younger years on the farm when she'd crushed on a foreign boy. Slightly stronger ones when Marina and her had kissed and held each other. But nothing like this. His touch was soft, direct, and his words were like the nectar sought by butterflies. It certainly did no good for Lunaria's finances to be lured by him, but everything outside of those curtain had ceased to exist to her in that moment. Just Mino.

She blinked at him, her cheeks warm and pale skin glowing in the flicker of candlelight. "Born lucky, eh?" She asked, letting him pull her down to rest against his chest. It wasn't that she'd never cuddled before, of course she'd done so countless times with friends and other loved ones. Be they Marina or family. But this was different, and not just because the soft rumble of his purr threatened to lull her into a hypnosis of sorts. She felt, more than the couches, that she could melt into him. And though he had laced his fingers in hers they had already begun to travel up to his head.

A light smile took over her lips as he did. When her fingers finally reached his head she sighed contently. They threaded through soft tendrils, like they belonged there, like she belonged there.

Fawn closed her eyes as she gently pet and scratched at his scalp. A few times her fingers would reach down and cup the base of his neck, only to return up to the crown of his head with a teasing, gentle pull of his hair. It had been something her mother taught her, if you gently pull at the hair like a massage it can act as type of natural relaxant, even help headaches diminish. Her other hand was fidgeting with the opening to his durumagi on his chest. Occasionally her fingers would brush against his skin there, ghosting a desire to explore more as curiosity nearly got the better of her. And with one leg wrapped around one of his, her skirt did no favors for her any longer. It fell in just the perfect way to expose the hem of her panties and curving lines of her derriere, which was somehow even paler than the rest of her in the dim lighting of the candles that she had decided to stare at upon opening her eyes, still hazy.

"...Mino, do ye...?" She bit her lip in thought. But before she could finish the thought the curtain spread open letting through a blinding light from the stage and the sound of loud cheering. "Oh- sorry Fawn!" One of the dancers, Annie, chimed. She was a tall brunette woman dressed in what looked like a leather corset, feathered skirt, and large breasts bedazzled with gems that framed her dark nipples. "Didn't mean to interrupt you and your guest. Make sure to take care of him, yeah? Bye, Lord Mino, Fawn~" With a wink she skipped out and closed the curtain behind her. Their enclave went quiet as Fawn peered up at Mino, her hand frozen in his hair.

"...Lord?"

[Mino]

That tiny little gasp was a damning sound. A bell to call forth the simmering heat beneath his skin. The part of her lips in surprise would be a pleasant memory burned into his mind, warped by fantasy. The same fantasies that danced in the back of his mind in this warm, dark room on a cold Frost night. Mostly fixated on the smear of the pink painted over her lips on other places, following the rise of red in her cheeks. He blinked the thought away.

“Born lucky.” The words were hollow, but they’d served their purpose. Made them feel fuller in his mouth, made his lips curl up further as he repeated them.

In the quiet, his purrs filled the space. That, and the soft lull fo Fawn’s breaths falling in time with his own. A peaceable moment. One he didn’t think he would be able to replicate outside of that small bathroom with the lavender soaps. He blinked once, twice, let his lids sit heavy before they slid shut completely. She was warm over him, made even warmer by the fever pitch of flames licking up from his stomach. He felt — he might as well have been — drunk. Which was interesting, considering all he’d had was honeyed cream.

A chuckle settled in his chest at the thought, only further proving the feeling. This was — hm. Different from the way he usually felt during Frost. Easier to deal with; lighter than usual. Maybe she’d laced catnip in his drink. He cocked his head to the side, let off a soft trill as her fingers worked in his hair. Magic, those fingers were. That was every bit the right word for them now. The right word for her.

She was saying something. A question, or rather the start of one, that pulled him from that fuzzy headspace. The light entering the room suddenly helped further the process. Mino opened his eyes, shut them again with a hiss as he turned his head away from the light. A woman’s voice broke the peaceful moment — and then she was gone. As if he’d snapped his fingers and everything had reverted. But it hadn’t. Not when he’d heard his name on the woman’s lips and it weighed down on him that the voice was somewhat familiar. Distant in his memory, but not too far. And she’d used his full title.

His eyes opened slowly, painfully so as he thought of what Fawn’s expression must be to go with her confusion. He hummed, tried not to think of the quick uptake in his heartbeat before he remembered that she could probably feel that. The sluggishness of relaxation would maybe soon be forgotten in favor of this conversation. He was careful as he moved her further up so they were closer to eye level, though sitting up probably would have been better — but he was comfortable and maybe they could return to the cozy atmosphere they’d just had.

“Lord.” Mino cleared his throat, tapped his fingers against her waist. “My, uh, family is...well regarded.” That was the truth, but also very much an understatement. The Lekivian family had been around for some time, as far as he remembered from his history lessons. They’d been doing their dirty business for just as long as they’d been officially recognized. He was hazy on the details; he’d never been good at sitting still during his lessons. Of which, he couldn’t recall much of. Just a small room he’d been shoved into with several other children and told that what he’d learn would be important to his and the house’s success.

He swallowed, licked his lips. There was a lot more to it than it being simple public opinion. There was money and influence — and how exactly was he supposed to explain that the woman had known him without it seeming...bad? His brows furrowed as he tried to find the words. “I told you I managed assets, didn’t I? Well, you’ve caught me in another instance of checking up on one such asset.” Again, the truth — but another understatement, of sorts. His luck would certainly have turned on him if it were Candy that found them next.