Snippet #2403061

located in New New York, a part of King of the Dolls, one of the many universes on RPG.

New New York

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Character Portrait: Xander Character Portrait: Adina "Adi"
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Xander Harrowgrove:

Xander did not like Adina. Even if he knew little about the androgynous doll, he found an instant dislike clenching at his stomach for whatever reason, he wasn't sure - or at least, he was sure but did not feel terribly inclined to think of it too much, seeing as it involved one topic he most certainly couldn't linger on: Emma. That said, he still found his eyes weighing heavily on her, lips pressed in a thin line, eyes slightly narrowed. Thinking. He could not tell if he was irritated or merely speculating; all he could find himself doing was flick his gaze between Adina and Emma, as the former disappeared into the crowd. The doll had kissed Emma's hand; the doll had been very familiar with Emma; the doll had danced with her - no, Xander did not like Adina all too much.

Another whining violin tune split through the ballroom all of a sudden, a new song striking up among the band; Xander found himself unconsciously taking Emma's hand, drawing her onto the dance-floor amid the throng of shifting, shimmering ball-gowns and tuxedos.

"Let's dance," He said, although it was almost a scowl. He did not even like dancing - well, not this kind of dancing anyway - so what on Earth had dragged him into the midst of it all? There really was no point pretending he did not know the answer to such a simple question.

As he held Emma's body against his own, hand on her waist, other hand in her own, spinning across the glossy tiles, Xander watched her closely; felt something tighten in his stomach; found breathing difficult for some reason, inhalations tangling with exhalations in a complex mesh. Nervousness? No, that couldn't be - but as he said this, he realised that he could no longer watch the doll, his eyes staring off into the distance, towards the band, anywhere other than her pale face, her wide eyes...

When he spoke, he tried to sound nonchalant: "Did you say Adina was for sale? Who is buying him?" Why were you dancing with him...?

Xander didn't - couldn't - ask that, for if he tried he knew he would discover his anger splitting painfully through his skin, so he settled for something easier: he watched her lips part and her breaths come quickly and wondered what it was that he found so curious about her.