paixaorpg | One "Fine" Evening [Completed]

Character(s): Rosette and Luxord (yep, it's another one of those logs)
Content: Luxord takes time out of his day to go screw with Rosette's head. The man seriously needs a hobby.
Setting: Rosette's hotel room (assume an unspecified hotel, since...well, I never specified it. |D)
Time: Evening
Warnings: Threats of brainbreak, and Luxord being creepy. No, really, I have no idea how this ended up this epically creepy. It's also a good bit of charactercest, so the entire thing is under the cut.

Rosette sighed, placing her journal on the night table next to the bed. She’d been shocked and beaten and bruised, outed as a member of the Resistance, and generally been kicked around by life…all within the past few days. Right now, all she wanted to do was curl up in her new dress (shorter than she was used to, collarless, still blue, because much as she hated to admit it her Order uniform was just getting ripped to hell lately) and take a very, very long nap.

But no, instead she’d put a post up on the message board and decided to wait for a response. They needed to get rid of the monster, and she could help to some extent. With as many people as had volunteered, and with Laharl among them, she figured all they needed was a good plan and the monster was as good as down.

Normally she’d hate waiting for something to happen, but for now there wasn’t a lot she could do – so, exhaustedly, impatiently, she waited for replies to her post.

She got one she wasn’t expecting.

Luxord had long since decided that announcing a visit on short notice was rather rude and not near as amusing as showing up unexpectedly. He’d rather watch his impromptu host panic than give them fair (or unfair) warning.

So when he caught sight of Rosette’s post during a casual perusal of his journal, he decided to pay her a visit. It had been far too long since they’d spoken, after all, and he much preferred face-to-face conversations than angry journal commentary.

So he took the direct route – right into the hotel where she was staying, then (after obtaining the pertinent information) directly into the room where she was staying, both via dark portals. As luck would have it, she was facing away from his entry point. Excellent.

“Good evening,” he greeted her simply, a smirk already upon his face.

Rosette nearly missed the strange noise in her room – being half asleep certainly didn’t do anything for her awareness – but there was no way she could ever mistake that voice. She froze, momentarily overcome by panic and sheer terror.

And then that snapped. “Not anymore,” she choked, reaching to the bedside table for her gun.

That was a development Luxord certainly didn’t want. Simple solutions, he believed, were best, and so rather than allowing Rosette to grab her gun and needing to wrest it away from her, he froze her time, leaving her sitting on the bed with her arm half-extended. Reaching to take the gun for himself (and to move it to the other side of the room, far out of his victim’s reach), he allowed himself a glance at her face. Mixed with the determination frozen in her expression was a good amount of fear.

Perfect.

Placing the gun on the dresser behind him, he returned Rosette’s time to its proper speed and laid his hand on her cheek, effectively stopping her movement and keeping her from turning around. “How very rude,” he chastised her, unable to keep his smirk from growing, “not offering to share your toys. Did no one teach you better?”

For the second time in as many minutes, Rosette froze - where the hell had her gun gone? There wasn’t a hell of a lot she could do without it, not with him behind her like he was and damn fast to boot. Maybe she could get him to leave anyways…

“Shut up,” she snapped, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice or the slight trembling out of her body.

So far as “making him leave” went, this probably wasn’t the way to do it.

“Such a pity,” Luxord replied lightly, placing his tips of his fingers on her opposite cheek, just under the jaw line, and tracing a line slowly down her neck, curling his fingers under the chain of the pocket watch. “It would be so much more…interesting for us both if you did decide to share.” He moved his fingers back around her neck slowly, tracing the chain, lifting it away from the back of her neck as if he intended to undo the clasp and remove the pocket watch. That wasn’t in his plans for today, but she needn’t know that.

Rosette’s shivering grew more pronounced as she felt Luxord’s fingers move around behind her neck. He- he was going for the clasp. He was going to take the watch.

Immediately her hands flew up to the watch, grasping it tightly. She was shaking hard now, absolutely terrified, knowing that he wanted the watch, that it was connected to her and to Chrno, and that she wouldn’t be able to stop him if he was determined to take it.

“Stop,” she finally managed, the word coming out more like a terrified sob than a command. “Please- stop.”

Ah, so she could still speak. Good – Luxord still had a game with Larxene, after all, and he didn’t want it to end so quickly. She’d last until the next round happened.

He waited for a few fractions of a second as if considering his response (though he really was simply playing with her just that bit more) before simply letting the chain fall against her neck. It was soundless, but she would feel it.

One hand still against her cheek, he leaned slightly around her other side, placing his mouth near her ear. “Certainly,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, “but please, do consider your options before next time.”

With those simple words, he took two steps backwards, stepping through the still-open portal and closing it behind him, smirking contentedly all the while. He couldn’t have asked for a better toy.

Rosette simply remained frozen on the bed where he’d left her, breathing hard, his words running an endless loop through her head. Consider your options for next time…for next time…next time…

There was going to be a “next time.” He was coming back.

Less than two minutes later Rosette was bolting out the front of the hotel. This was her life – always on the go, always moving, always running.

It was, however, the first time that she’d ever been running in fear.