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Gyles and Vivien: Storm Rising

< in the middle of the thread... I lost quite a bit of my archiving in a computer crash... >

Vivien lurched upright, her hair falling into her face. At the moment, her expression was mostly surprise. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, ignoring the question.

Gyles stood over her, looking down at her disheveled appearance. "There are so many answers I could give that, my dear," he drawled. "Yet I'm quite certain most of them would offend. So I'll return to the reason I arrived here in the first place. I had hoped to see you and deliver news. Yet now I believe I have misjudged, and might well reconsider."

A momentary flash of disgust crossed his face and was quickly turned to anger. "Do you do this to yourself often? Do you care so little for yourself?"

Vivien slammed the glass of absinthe onto the little table, slopping some over the side and onto her hand. "How dare you? What business is it of yours what I do?"

"What business?" Gyles snapped. "If we are to do business then why yes, it is my care for my business what you do. Not to mention that I prefer my lovers to have all their faculties about them. The taste of absinthe does not appeal."

"I see," Vivien said, a trace of poison in her much-too-honeyed tones. "You like your lovers to focus all their energies on you. Well, I'll tell you something, dear: I like this. And if I like something, I'll damn well do it, whatever you say."

"I prefer not to make love to a half-unconscious ragdoll," Gyles sneered. "If you wish to numb your brain with that poison, then go ahead, do as you please. Just do it alone."

He turned, taking the steps to the door with long strides. His hand fell on the handle and he turned. One eyebrow quirked in disdain as he watched her lie there. "And perhaps you missed my point," he spoke in slow tones, perhaps concerned that she might miss something else. "This is not merely personal, my dear. We had spoken business as well. But I will not give my dyes into the hands of someone who cannot manage to maintain her personal life. It is a pity. Your designs have potential, my dear. How sad that you don't possess the fortitude to prove that a woman can design as well as a man. I suspect your brother will be able to make good use of the dyes, so this trip will not prove to be a complete loss."

Vivien's eyes flashed with anger, and the next words out of her mouth were not very flattering. She picked up her shoe from where it rested near the bed and hurled it in his direction as she swore. Her aim was not good, and she did not seem to mind. The throwing was the important thing.

Gyles easily sidestepped the missile, then leaned down to pick it up. He slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket and smiled. "I believe I will take advantage of the bar downstairs. Enjoy your," he paused, his gaze raking over her form. "Enjoy your afternoon. If you find yourself hungering for company? I'm quite certain you'll be able to find someone else."

He turned and stepped out into the hall, closing the door with a thunk behind him.

After a moment, he heard her scream of rage, and then the other shoe hitting the door.

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