Oz quirked an eyebrow at her mention of retiring to the dressing room to change, thinking it bold of her to invite him back to the scene of their catastrophic prior entanglement. As she continued and he realized that wasn't what she had in mind at all, his eyebrows raised higher. It was even more bold to suggest they part ways and meet in the lobby. She must have felt secure in her hold on him, if she was confident he would wait around for her like an abandoned puppy and would have no qualms being seen to do so in the theater lobby, which he assumed was still thronged by society members from the audience. Not to mention his own siblings, if any of them were still waiting for him. He could have followed her straight from the backstage area to some abandoned corner of the theater and fooled around without putting too much scrutiny on his own decision to do so, but did he want this badly enough to concoct a cover story for his family if they were between him and the ticketing counter?
She had turned the tables to the point where either choice reflected poorly on him, Ozymandias thought. If he agreed to her plan and followed through with it, he surrendered to her whims entirely; he might as well start sending her poorly written love poetry for all the dignity he would be able to maintain through that chain of events. If he backed out now, after his last too-bold comment, it could only read like a lack of fortitude; he would have been cowed by the mere idea of others watching and whispering. He had to determine which he cared more about: her or what everyone else might think. Somehow his own wants and desires had fallen to the background, so nothing he did now would make him look strong or in control of the situation. It was a poison choice for certain.
It occurred to him that he could perhaps kick the idea back and propose another time or place to meet, but that was dangerous too. Firstly, she might not agree; if she insisted on the plan she had initially proposed it would leave him in the same position but with one less degree of pretended dignity. If she did agree, it stripped him of his self-deception regarding the enchanted powder being at least partially to blame for how enraptured by her he felt. Worse still, what if the enchantments tonight did have some impact in that regard, and he found himself obliged to go through with something that in the light of tomorrow morning he no longer felt he desired?
He rolled his cigarette between his fingers and wondered how much of this internal struggle she had anticipated. Was she particularly cunning, paring away his excuses and defenses until she left him with a predicament like this, or did she put him in such a position without even trying? Her eyes were inscrutable. Which was more dangerous?
"If you've other matters to attend to, I wouldn't want to waste your time on a trifle," he countered. If he was going to go through with this, he wanted some concession from her. She could at least admit that he was the most important thing on her agenda for the evening. Then, without stopping to consider whether this was wise, he added a slight barb: "The experimentation with the powder was more of a passing fancy than a serious pursuit."
She had turned the tables to the point where either choice reflected poorly on him, Ozymandias thought. If he agreed to her plan and followed through with it, he surrendered to her whims entirely; he might as well start sending her poorly written love poetry for all the dignity he would be able to maintain through that chain of events. If he backed out now, after his last too-bold comment, it could only read like a lack of fortitude; he would have been cowed by the mere idea of others watching and whispering. He had to determine which he cared more about: her or what everyone else might think. Somehow his own wants and desires had fallen to the background, so nothing he did now would make him look strong or in control of the situation. It was a poison choice for certain.
It occurred to him that he could perhaps kick the idea back and propose another time or place to meet, but that was dangerous too. Firstly, she might not agree; if she insisted on the plan she had initially proposed it would leave him in the same position but with one less degree of pretended dignity. If she did agree, it stripped him of his self-deception regarding the enchanted powder being at least partially to blame for how enraptured by her he felt. Worse still, what if the enchantments tonight did have some impact in that regard, and he found himself obliged to go through with something that in the light of tomorrow morning he no longer felt he desired?
He rolled his cigarette between his fingers and wondered how much of this internal struggle she had anticipated. Was she particularly cunning, paring away his excuses and defenses until she left him with a predicament like this, or did she put him in such a position without even trying? Her eyes were inscrutable. Which was more dangerous?
"If you've other matters to attend to, I wouldn't want to waste your time on a trifle," he countered. If he was going to go through with this, he wanted some concession from her. She could at least admit that he was the most important thing on her agenda for the evening. Then, without stopping to consider whether this was wise, he added a slight barb: "The experimentation with the powder was more of a passing fancy than a serious pursuit."
MJ is the light of my life <3