Pleased to have Ozymandias take the initiative, Sophia was happily pulled along. Once standing she stepped gracefully out of the dress that pooled at her feet. Those roaming eyes thrilled her, a woman who possessed not an ounce of shyness, as she knew the chemise left little room for imagination. “Are you enjoying the view?” she teased.

While he set to work on designing a more comfortable setting, Soph maneuvered in slow, deft steps behind him, dainty fingers appreciating the movement of muscles along his back and shoulders. She wanted him to know that he had her full attention, even as her free hand rifled through her vanity drawer contents to retrieve a small, ornately engraved lapis lazuli snuff bottle. By the time she rounded back to stand by his side, the pillows were doubling, and she flicked an amused look to him. How very practical you are.

At the muffled sound of his wand finally dropping, a shiver of excitement moved through her body. It was quite like the feeling right before stepping on stage, and his offered hand was her queue. Sophia stepped into his embrace, twirling with flourish on her toes before laying back in a gentle dip with a soft giggle. She had to admit, he impressed her; he seemed to have a natural intuition about the movements of a new dance partner. It enticed her arms to drape indulgently over his shoulders, letting him whisk her up into his arms and another passionate kiss.

Thoughts about Jacob passed in and out of the back of her mind's eye like distant rain clouds, even as they kissed, even as she was gently lowered to the chaise. It served to steel her resolve that her ‘medicine’ was necessary. “Quite comfortable,” she returned his sly question with a smirk. The feeling of his hands going up her legs felt downright salacious, actually, and caused her to bite her lower lip in pleasure. The woman shimmied up to prop herself up against the pillows slightly to watch him. “But what a tease you are…” she murmured, deciding that two could play this game.

One of her feet moved up to delicately tap her toes against his sternum, causing her chemise to shift up a few more inches. Almost as though her foot intended to hold him in place there, yet the arch of her eyebrow suggested that she dared him to do more.

“Care to make your experiences with the five senses a bit more… intense?” she asked playfully. Soph withdrew the small-spoon cap to the snuff bottle she’d been holding, and took a dainty sniff of the powdery substance within, once per nostril. She gestured to her companion, should he wish to partake. For her, it gave that last bit of assurance that she would linger in the present moment. 

Almost instantly the drug started to transpire somewhere in her brain behind her eyes, bringing his handsome, dark features into sharper focus. It turned Sophia’s smile devilish. With determined precision her toes began to graze down his chest to his abdomen, then paused to toy suggestively with his waistband.

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thank you gin for the set<3

The way she moved her foot against his chest was intoxicating in and of itself, but Oz was hardly one to refuse an opportunity to enhance the evening when it was offered. He did hesitate to take it just a second, since she followed the offer with an immediate distraction... Given her tricks so far that evening, he wouldn't have been entirely surprised if she'd somehow managed to undo his belt with her toes. He reached down to take her foot in his hand and massaged it lightly before he let it rest against his thigh and took the snuff from her.

He rubbed one hand along her leg again. Snuff always seemed to make his capacity for thought larger, as if it cleared out his brain as well as his sinuses. As she had pointed out, though, it enhanced his capacity for feeling just as much; his mind was full of the sensation of her beneath his fingertips. He couldn't recall anything more enticing than this; his pulse raced with the anticipation of being able to sensually roll those tights down off her legs. If ever any beauty I did see which I desired and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.

Ozymandias kissed her knee, then moved his hands up beneath the edge of her chemise until he found the top of her tights. "You won't mind if I remove these?"

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MJ is the light of my life <3

It wouldn't bother her much either way, had he chosen to partake or not, though it certainly tickled her to see that he did. His various ‘unadvertised talents’ were highly effective up to now, though perhaps this might strike him with a bit more inspiration.

Sophia’s toes continued their idle tease – I can definitely get his belt off, she mused, and would’ve attempted as much had his hand not redirected her course. It would seem he wished to take charge of the show for a moment, and so she was all too willing to oblige. She nestled comfortably down into the pillows to watch eagerly as his hands moved up.

The drug had its desired effect. Soph felt nothing but the radiant warmth of his fingers against her thighs, and couldn’t quite get her brain to function past the feeling of his lips against her knee. It caused her heart to pound in her ears, and a pleasant flush to warm her cheeks.  “Please go ahead… I don’t think I’ll be needing them,” she murmured, tone a bit gravely.

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thank you gin for the set<3

He needed no further permission than that. Oz's hands rolled her tights down, and as soon as he saw bare skin he trailed their progress with a series of gentle, slow kisses. He kissed one ankle as he tossed her tights to the side, then shifted his focus back up. He undid his belt, but only to save himself time later; his attention was still wholly on her body for the moment.

He took the edge of her chemise in both hands and offered her a mischievous smile, then ducked his head to pleasure her.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

That wicked look should be illegal. Capable of causing irreparable damage, that look. Merlin send this man to jail was final cognizant thought she could form.

If Sophia tensed, it was only for a moment of anticipation as her breath hitched and head arched back into the pillows. That devilish tongue soon nearly melted her out of existence. Her fingers desperately found his hair again, and if anyone left in the building had any doubts about what they were up to, Sophia’s moans informed them loud and clear.

She descended into ecstasy not once, but twice, each time reborn to be a bit more commanding. She’d needed this moment— more than she had any hope to articulate. So she let her actions speak for her, body writhing once she made her second, much slower recovery. “Come here,” she panted, tugging at him.  “You’re a guest, I shouldn’t be so selfish.”

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thank you gin for the set<3

Ozymandias was glad he'd taken the snuff when she'd offered it, because it enabled him to keep a pulse on all her telltale signs as he went. He heard every shudder of breath and felt every time her muscles tensed or relaxed. He could read her body like a piece of music. He felt the crescendo the moment it began to swell and played his part with practiced skill.

When she invited him up he placed a parting kiss on her thigh. The fact that she hadn't protested when he'd gotten his head between her legs implied she was no novice when it came to sex, so he was looking forward to whatever came next. Something more interesting than her lying down receptively as he climbed on top, he imagined. Oz took a second to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand and to unbutton his trousers, then sat beside her on the chaise.

He was caught for a moment by the expression on her face, and emboldened by the slight high he decided to vocalize it. Oz reached out to catch her chin above two fingers, tilting her face slightly towards him.

"If I could bottle that hazy look in your eye I could sell it for a fortune. It would drive any man mad," he said. "Combined with this lip, it's positively lethal." He brushed his thumb over her lower lip as he spoke, then leaned in to gently take it between his teeth.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Sophia's pulse radiated throughout her body which still twitched with aftershocks. She gave herself just another minute of repose this way, willing her breath to slow while her blue eyes lingered curiously over his wet lips or deft fingers. A sight that was sure to build back up her appetite. Though certain her skin felt feverish to touch, Ozymandias lingered over it, his voice coating her like the sweetest honey. Soph knew she probably looked little better than a kitten now, lapping it up completely. Already her hands found their way around his shoulders to bring them close.

The last time she felt this way was one year, seven months, and six days ago. She'd be damned if she didn't think she deserved every minute of it now, for the hell she's been through.

"Flatterer," she scoffed, but a flutter of eyelashes and her grin gave it away. Though positive she looked a mess, he may have a point on lethality. Soph felt ready to sink her teeth into him. Rising to a seat to meet him halfway, she met his lips eagerly. They were caught in the undercurrent moving to their next horizon now, and she took a deep, readying breath for her next plunge. Then a wave crashed into her.

The cedar trees in Khimki forest, an early morning just after first snow. Split wood and campfires. Tea over fire, in the world's oldest copper tin. Fresh leather.

When Sophia came to, her body was tense and shaking. She had shoved Ozymandias away with shocking force, and did not remember crying out, or darting as far back as the distance of the enlarged chaise would allow. What had just transpired, she could not possibly fathom. But the memory was fierce, as knowable and profound as it was still happening to her right now, and it made the woman as pale as a ghost. She had not thought about it in years. And it was intimate, more than anything this man in front of her could ever know or be privy to. Whatever this meant he could have possibly done only made her stomach churn with anguish. She shakily lowered the hands that had gone to cover her mouth and leveled him a harrowing look.

"What is the meaning of this!?"

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thank you gin for the set<3

Oz took a moment to become lost in the kiss. He was idly considering whether it would be smoother to take her chemise off over her head or to slip it down the way her dress had gone when she suddenly pushed him back with surprising force. He was immediately alarmed. There was nothing playful or flirtatious about a shove like that, or about the way she scrambled back from him. The flush he'd brought to her skin was gone; she was pale now.

Her shove hadn't moved him much, given that he'd been leaning into her so heavily when it happened, but seeing her like this he shifted backwards slightly to put a few more inches between them on the chaise. The look on her face was one he hadn't seen her wear before, but he knew instinctively that getting closer would only make things worse.

"The meaning of what?" he asked. He was confused by this turn of events, and that showed on his face, but he kept his tone level, not rising to hysterics or accusations. There was nothing specific that he could identify in the kisses they'd just shared that she might find objectionable, so he was left with the conclusion that by this she must have meant all of it, but in that case this was an odd moment to choose to protest. "You offered me a tour," he reminded her softly. "You invited me to get comfortable." You had no problem with this when I had my tongue between your legs, Ozy thought, but knew better than to add aloud. That last implied that he was owed something in exchange, and that wasn't what he was trying to convey. He may have played the part of lust-driven patron in order to get himself here in the first place, but he didn't feel entitled to her body and didn't want to say anything that hinted that he did. Rather, he was defending himself by trying to point out just a few moments where she'd had all the agency. If this wasn't what she'd wanted, she had plenty of opportunities before now to say so.

Something about this didn't feel like a case of cold feet, though — at least not only that. If she'd simply changed her mind, would she have looked so pale? But on the other hand, what else could have been the matter?

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Sophia still hadn’t recovered from what she saw, a moment that felt so visceral that there was no point in denying it. Something about Ozymandias had triggered a memory buried deep within her, one she had no intent to look at again. Shoring it back up had as profound an effect on her as if he’d slashed her heart open.

“The meaning of this disgusting trick you’ve played,” she cut in hotly. It was a good thing he did not raise his voice, it kept Sophia on the brink of hysterics as she began to reverse-catalog every moment of their past encounters. The way he’d shored up those distant memories of Jacob all along, even at his first visit backstage, which in her blind idealism, Sophia took as a sweet reminder of the qualities in a man she likes. The thought that perhaps he’d been targeting her all this time was not far from mind, and the idea made her sick, building a thick well of poison that expanded in the pit of her stomach.

Of course, he wore this stupidly confused look that played innocent now. Perhaps it was the effects of the drug, but each passing syllable he used to justify himself served only to make the woman dizzier, her heart pounding. Shaking hands moved to clutch her chest now, where her skin felt ice cold. “Was it very amusing to you, stringing me along like a lovesick puppy? Do you pick widows as prey very often?” she went on savagely, caring little for his level tones or feigned surprise. There was no way this memory came forward by accident. He must have been sifting through her thoughts for quite some time, but with the drugs, he either grew cocky enough to overstep his boundary or she’d grown more attuned to his wiles. An insidious form of legilimency - that was the only way she could explain any of this.

“I may be a lot of things, Mister Dempsey, but an idiot who will stand being manipulated is not one of them,” the poison pit in her stomach finally burst, and gave way to clear anguish and ire. Though tears welled in her eyes, Sophia would not give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. “As if you could ever even scratch the surface to be the man Jacob was. What, you thought perhaps if you recreated the scent of the day we fell in love, you might get deeper under my skin? That I am daft and desperate enough that I would not pause to consider that you never once stepped foot in Khimki forest, much less lit us a campfire?!”

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thank you gin for the set<3

Ozymandias prided himself on his intellect, but he had to admit he had entirely lost the plot on this conversation. He was being accused of something, but what precisely he couldn't have said. Whatever it was had affected her greatly, and Oz was almost concerned by the way she clutched at her chest. Well, he was concerned — but given the accusations she was leveling against him, he presumed any attempts to comfort her would not be taken well.

The name drop of 'Jacob' did nothing to clue him in to what was happening here, and the reference to the Khimki forest had him equally at sea. He didn't know who Jacob was, and he didn't even know where the Khimki forest was, much less ever pretended to have visited. The only straw he could clutch at in this jumbled mess was her reference to a scent.

"You're upset about the way I smell," he repeated, as though he could not quite believe it. Needless to say, this had never happened to him before; hardly anyone even bothered to comment on his cologne, much less saw it as evidence of some disgusting trick. Why had such a small thing had such an impact on her? A few seconds ago she had been beckoning him up to her side, and now she had all but called him a predator. The scent had some special meaning for her, that much was obvious — and quite an emotional meaning, if she was this quick to jump to conclusions once she'd caught a whiff of it. He had an urge to raise his wrist to his hand and take a sniff himself, but of course that was silly — he knew very well he wouldn't be able to smell whatever it was she had.

Oz edged back on the chaise a few more inches, hoping that giving her a little extra breathing room would help defuse the tension slightly. "I invented this cologne," he admitted, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. "But months before I ever saw you perform. I couldn't have anticipated it would have this effect on you."

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Sophia let out a sharp laugh, incredulous at his attempt to casually explain away the mechanism of his deceit. Her eyes darkened as he said something about preparing for this months ago. If this was meant to comfort her, he was doing a shit job of it. That pointedly concerned and bemused expression on his face was also of little comfort, and she resisted the urge to slap it off him.

“I don’t believe you,” she said icily instead. “I don’t believe you for an instant. A cologne? Then explain what happened! Explain to me how months ago you crafted a scent so that you could smell exactly like him, so much so that I could see and taste and feel our morning together from ten years ago!” Who ‘he’ was she did not elaborate, because in her mind she didn’t have to. If Ozymandias had rifled through any thoughts at all, he would have seen Jacob in nearly every instant.

She resolved, then, that no distance between them would be enough. The woman proceeded to slip off the chaise from her side, and rounded to pull her changing robe from off its hook on the wall, tying its loops taut against her waist. “I cannot fathom how you could proceed with a clear conscience,” her voice was breaking, though she determinedly kept tears back. Rounding back to him, she swept her hand with a savage single gesture, flinging Dempsey’s pile of clothes sitting on the floor right at his face.

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thank you gin for the set<3

The way that she said like him made it all make sense for Ozymandias. He didn't deserve this level of abuse from her, but at least he understood her confusion. He would have been at least as offput, albeit perhaps not as violently, if someone he was taking to bed had done something to remind him of Thomasina.

This was... messy. Oz had determined it would be best for him to leave even before she'd flung his clothes at him, and he resented that she'd denied him even the dignity of picking up his own shirt. He rifled until he found his wand, then set his clothes to the task of buttoning and tying themselves with a swish. It was clear to him that he would not be given an opportunity to explain himself, and if he insisted on doing so it would only fall on deaf ears. Maybe he could send a letter once she'd calmed down — or maybe this had simply been a mistake.

"I'm sorry I've upset you," he bit off as he put his feet back into his shoes, which proceeded to tie themselves. His irritation at the way things had dissolved so quickly kept his tone from sounding sincere, however he would feel in hindsight.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

“You should be more than sorry,” she seethed right back. Sophia flicked away a silent tear that moved down her cheek, determined that its appearance would only please him. He made no offer to explain what happened, after all. Perhaps because he had no excuse.

Still, he’d taken his queue to dispatch with haste. This made the tiniest part of her mind wonder at how malicious he could be, if this was his behavior once confronted with his cheat. Either way, her emotions were in too much turmoil to address this all now, and Sophia quashed the thought.

“Here I was, believing you to be a gentleman. Now get the hell out,” she added, as though he needed further instruction. “I would sooner smell you covered in horseshit than this so-called cologne again. Leave.”

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thank you gin for the set<3

But the woman had bite! The parting comments were wholly unnecessary; he had already had one hand on the doorknob before she'd thrown out the line about horseshit. He glowered but didn't respond before seeing himself out. He might have apparated out as soon as his clothes finished buttoning themselves up, if he wasn't still missing his coat. Blasted woman! Now he had to find it, which would sooner or later involve seeing people. Being kicked out a dressing room was one thing, but being made a spectacle for the rest of the ballet company to whisper about behind their hands was quite another.

(It did not help his mood that he did not remember the way to the main stage and opened at least one supply closet while trying to find it).

This was monstrously unfair. Not that Oz felt he was owed anything particular in the physical sense — he had never been one to indulge in sex unless he felt he'd earned it first, and any sign of a lack of attraction or arousal from his partner was an immediate mood-killer for him. On the other hand, he knew he had not done anything to deserve being treated so crassly at the end. So she was still in love with her dead husband. That wasn't his fault, and she'd given him no indication at any prior point that she was quite so fragile. So his cologne had reminded her of something painful. He couldn't have anticipated that, and certainly hadn't intended it.

(He nearly tripped over the corner of a sandbag and swore under his breath as he stumbled to regain his footing).

She had encouraged him too, so she had no rights to act as though he'd been predatory. If anything she had been the one stepping across the line most frequently, with her stunt in the catwalks and the way she'd kept looking at him. She had hardly seemed to be under duress when he'd been kneeling at her feet. She'd turned on him in an instant, and now she wanted to rewrite all their previous exchanges to make him out to be a villain. It wasn't fair, and what was more, he was wholly unused to dealing with situations like this. How could he even begin to defend himself against such baseless accusations? Did she really think that he'd stalked her for months with the intention of... what, exactly? Pleasuring her once and then leaving without getting anything for himself? Intruding in her life for the soul purpose of upsetting her?

"My coat," he snapped at the first person he saw when he did manage to reach the stage, who skittered away to retrieve it. Oz stood center stage with his arms crossed, waiting. The manager approached and began to ask whether he would like to reserve tickets for any of the performances, and Ozymandias shot him such a sharp look that he left off mid-sentence. Oz didn't intend to see Sophia Voss again, which would make it difficult to carry on with the pretense of being a loyal patron of the ballet. She may have enchanted him, but he was disillusioned now; she was broken, and if he tried to continue playing with her he would only be cut for his troubles.

His coat was retrieved and he left the theater, in a foul mood and doing nothing whatsoever to hide it.

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   Sophia Lissington

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MJ is the light of my life <3