Jasper's bath was cut short by incessant banging on his bedroom's door, following by the sound of it opening and banged closed. 'Jasper!' came Oscar's half-boyish voice. Another violent door opening and his younger brother stood at his bathroom's doorframe. 'There you are. Did you fall asleep in there?'
Shit.
Jasper had always been a rule follower and not one to keep guests waiting. 'Miss Dempsey is here, you fool. And my money was on Beatrice embarrassing us.'
"Right," Jasper said, still in his bath water. "Will you, please?" He head gestured to the door, but Oscar didn't get the memo, or didn't want to get it, because he was now smiling at him in that annoying adolescent way of his.
Awkwardly, Jasper got out of the bathtub and quickly put on a bath-robe. It probably wasn't the first time his brother saw him in some state of nudity but still he didn't appreciate being naked around Oscar. "Get me my clothes at least, will you?" They were laid out on his bed.
He started getting dressed in a frenzy as though he was the quirky protagonist of a 2000s romantic comedy, while his younger brother blabbered unhelpfully. Like most rich people, Jasper usually had a servant help him through the arduous task of putting on his clothes and button his handcuffs, but there was no time for that. Laugh as you want about rich people and their need for servants to complete simple tasks, but Jasper couldn't put his handcuffs on without help and there was no time, so he walked briskly to the foyer handcuff-less, with only his soap's scent to keep him through the evening and damp hair he'd hastily combed into place.
Thankfully, Victor had stalled their guests enough. "Welcome, Mr. Dempsey, Mrs. Dempsey, Miss Ch-Dempsey!" he greeted, short-of-breath, with a polite nod of his head to each direction.
She was breathtaking in that blue dress.
Shit.
Jasper had always been a rule follower and not one to keep guests waiting. 'Miss Dempsey is here, you fool. And my money was on Beatrice embarrassing us.'
"Right," Jasper said, still in his bath water. "Will you, please?" He head gestured to the door, but Oscar didn't get the memo, or didn't want to get it, because he was now smiling at him in that annoying adolescent way of his.
Awkwardly, Jasper got out of the bathtub and quickly put on a bath-robe. It probably wasn't the first time his brother saw him in some state of nudity but still he didn't appreciate being naked around Oscar. "Get me my clothes at least, will you?" They were laid out on his bed.
He started getting dressed in a frenzy as though he was the quirky protagonist of a 2000s romantic comedy, while his younger brother blabbered unhelpfully. Like most rich people, Jasper usually had a servant help him through the arduous task of putting on his clothes and button his handcuffs, but there was no time for that. Laugh as you want about rich people and their need for servants to complete simple tasks, but Jasper couldn't put his handcuffs on without help and there was no time, so he walked briskly to the foyer handcuff-less, with only his soap's scent to keep him through the evening and damp hair he'd hastily combed into place.
Thankfully, Victor had stalled their guests enough. "Welcome, Mr. Dempsey, Mrs. Dempsey, Miss Ch-Dempsey!" he greeted, short-of-breath, with a polite nod of his head to each direction.
She was breathtaking in that blue dress.