No time for champagne, then. Oz played his part well enough for someone forced to improvise, though he was rather befuddled to be left alone in a plain hallway when the stranger disappeared. When she appeared from behind a wall he'd previously considered solid, he felt pleasantly beguiled. She continued to find ways to surprise him, while remaining perfectly in character with what he already knew of her. Her hair was down and he thought to catch it in his hands and bury his face in it, absorbing the scent of her and basking in the softness, but before he could do anything she had beckoned him down. There was a metaphor here, he thought vaguely as he followed her into the darkness below. He decided not to dwell on it.
"There are times to be circumspect," he agreed, to her concession about going to greater lengths to hide their liaison now than she normally would have. "Particularly after the scene we made the last time." Very well, the scene he had made, leaving in a huff after demanding the return of his coat. Since she had been instrumental in determining the nature of his departure from her dressing room, however, he felt she at least shared the blame for the ensuing moments and any rumors they may have stirred up. And they were only being very slightly more careful to avoid rumors, at the end of the day; as he was coming to learn, the ballet world (or at least the one in this theater) pivoted around Sophia Voss as planets orbited the sun, drawn in by gravity. They were all connected to each other but especially to her; he was under no illusions that anyone would stay ignorant long about what they got up to tonight.
His eyes lit on the plaque by the door. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't miss the gleam in her eye as she explained. Not a lengthy liaison, then; whatever she said, they would be operating on borrowed time until the theater manager finished with the patrons upstairs. Somehow, Oz doubted they'd spare much time with the liquor, no matter what quality it was.
"Is it sound-proof?" he asked, but it was less a question than it was a lascivious threat: the things I will do to you, Mrs. Voss. He didn't give her time to answer before he was on her, kissing her urgently as he pressed her against the door they'd just closed behind them.
"There are times to be circumspect," he agreed, to her concession about going to greater lengths to hide their liaison now than she normally would have. "Particularly after the scene we made the last time." Very well, the scene he had made, leaving in a huff after demanding the return of his coat. Since she had been instrumental in determining the nature of his departure from her dressing room, however, he felt she at least shared the blame for the ensuing moments and any rumors they may have stirred up. And they were only being very slightly more careful to avoid rumors, at the end of the day; as he was coming to learn, the ballet world (or at least the one in this theater) pivoted around Sophia Voss as planets orbited the sun, drawn in by gravity. They were all connected to each other but especially to her; he was under no illusions that anyone would stay ignorant long about what they got up to tonight.
His eyes lit on the plaque by the door. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't miss the gleam in her eye as she explained. Not a lengthy liaison, then; whatever she said, they would be operating on borrowed time until the theater manager finished with the patrons upstairs. Somehow, Oz doubted they'd spare much time with the liquor, no matter what quality it was.
"Is it sound-proof?" he asked, but it was less a question than it was a lascivious threat: the things I will do to you, Mrs. Voss. He didn't give her time to answer before he was on her, kissing her urgently as he pressed her against the door they'd just closed behind them.
MJ is the light of my life <3