~Yule Ball in Valhalla 2020- VIP Lounge~
His sudden movements to put himself in her path caused a sharp intake of breath. He was angry. He was so angry at her. Good. He needs to be angry. It will make this easier. Her body jumped slightly as he slammed a leather bound book onto the table beside her. A book? This is what Legba needed them to meet up to get? Why couldn't he have just sent it to her? He wants you to suffer. Which, again, she knew she probably deserved. She placed the empty glass on the table, her eyes falling to the book as she placed her hand on it. It was old and worn. There were cracks along the edges and unexplainable smudges of dirt. She grasped the it, not surprised at how heavy it was seeing as how it was nearly two inches thick. Picking it up slowly, her actions stopped as Naberius spoke again. His words sliced through the air like a knife into her heart. Her cheeks became warm, and she could feel an unwelcomed pressure behind her eyes. He knew the exact words to hurt her and felt no shame in letting them slip. While she understood he was angry, he knew what Corbin did to her and to compare her in any way to him was nearly unforgivable. A physical pain in her chest reminded her that she was standing there, unmoving and barely breathing. He hated her. She hated her. Zahrah refused to cry. She didn't want him to see how deeply he'd cut her even though she was positive he already knew. Her body moved again, bringing the heavy book towards her chest. She'd felt so beautiful earlier; now she felt empty and ugly. Undeserving of anything, especially the love of the man before her. Placing her clutch purse on the table beside her for a moment, freeing her other hand, she then reached up and grasped the emerald necklace that hung around her neck. The gift she'd received from Naberius a few weeks prior was treasured and had never left her person since they'd parted ways. A single action; she ripped the jewelry from her neck, the sting of the chain breaking against her skin a minimal pain when compared to how the rest of her currently felt, and threw it purposefully at the man's face before her. "Tozz fiik!" an Egyptian insult was hurled in his direction, and she somehow still maintained her composure. She grabbed her clutch purse again, both hands occupied, and took a step towards him. "I must have been trained well enough to make you feel like I loved you. Like I gave a shit about you." Her eyes narrowed, and she locked her gaze with his, "how does it feel to merely be a means to an end?" Go. Run. She shoved past him, her shoulder bumping into him as she passed, before anything else could be said , and quickly made her way towards the exit with her prize in hand. But at what price?
When he finally lifted her back to her feet, she could feel the heat radiating from her face and the exuberance pass between them both. "Oh my, well that was quite a lot of fun! Thank you kindly Adonair!" She turned then and gave a curtsy to the band, placing some bills into their tip jar, thanking them for the delightful tune. When she returned to him, she was fanning her fingers in front of her face to cool down some. She suggested they make their way back to the table to sit for a spell and perhaps have another drink.
The dance was quite invigorating for the erstwhile librarian. At a certain point the steps merge into the song and all that is left is the passion of the dance. The dip was magnificent, he wondered if anyone had noticed. It seemed most people were huddled in small groups of absorbed conversation. As they left the dance floor Shannon positively glowed. Was it the magic of the room? or the blood rushing through her and a hint of perspiration? was it the beginnings of love? As a librarian, he categorized all these possibilities. "Exquisite, my dear Shannon, exquisite!" He put his arm around her as they threaded their way to their seats.
Returning to their table, Adonair saw a waiter delivering a drink to the next table over. He waited for them to finish their interaction and then caught the young man's attention with a ten dollar bill. He ordered two champagnes. It looked like the bar might be closing up and they needed refreshment desperately. He greeted the lady at the next table, secretly hoping she had admired the dance. He introduced himself and Shannon as they waited for their drinks. Adonair still had his orange cocoa, but he had completlely lost interest in it as it was lukewarm and congealed.
