Thread: No Turning Back (Alvis Alendran&SHARPii)

Harrison looked at the apartment. It wasn't the kind of place that he had spent much time in, but he supposed in a way it was a decent nnough place to call home. Especially when a person worked two different jobs. Three floors up without an elevator would make it hard for a a person to cause too much mischeif for the residents, giving it a bit of security. The lock on the door looked newer than the rest of the place. That should make it more secure. He worked his mind through the statement of shoes. Such a small thing really, on or off. But it was actually a small statement in and of itself. It was a tacit condition really. On, it implied he was here for a short time, but didn't want to get too comfortable. Off, it was an open statement, one the implied quite a bit that he was willing to stick things out. With that in mind, he made his choice. He crouched to remove his shoes with some care. One did not simply dicard a fine pair of John Lobb shoes. Not when one paid better than thrity-six hundred per pair! He set them in the shoe closet, and pause d amoment, looking at the contrast of the new residents with the old. He gave his head a slight shake, and smiled. What was he doing here? This wasn't who he was, he'd grown far beyond this kind of thing. He contemplated putting the shoes back on, but that would have made him seem too indecisive. In for a penny Harrison. Get your head in the game. She emerged from what he could only assume was her bedroom and returned, sans jacket. The outfit still had an effect on him as she breezed past him to the kitchen. He took the time to study the surroundings. They were far from what he'd grown accustomed to over the years, but he did remember what it had been like for him to be an up and comer, fresh out of law school. It was not a time he regarded fondly. She reemerged, adn st a glass of scotch down. It was a double he noted, poued with the kind of precision that he expected from a long standing bartender. He made the note that at the partnership christmas party, he should offer he the post of tending the bar. It was a good job, offering a generous pay bonus for taking the time, and let a person get to know the top members of the firm. It was also one of the few times that Lloyd actually showed up to meet the people that worked for him. Red label she had said. Blended. American. As though the Americans could blend anything worth drinking. But regardless, he lifted the glass, and took a pull from teh glass. Not up to his normal standards, but tonight was hardly a night to keep measuring everything, and seeing if it was up to par. He smiled, and took a seat, sitting comfortably, his knees barely a foot and half away from hers. I will do perfectly fine. He said smoothly. Blended scotch. When was the last time he'd rank the stuff? Law school, before he'd met Lloyd. Spoiled bastard that Lloyd had been, inheriting everything he ever wanted, he'd taken Harrison under his wing, and Harrison had bcome a rising star ever since. A part of him wondered if she was trying to simply get him drunk before making some kind of move towards him. He did relax a little, letting it seem as though the alcohol was having a effect, though it would take far more to truly get to him. She didn't meet his eyes when she asked her final question. he was a little shocked at the rather forthright nature of the question. It wasn't what he'd though to hear from her, perhaps a little dancing around the issue, until she finally closed in for a proper strike. But the way she looked when she asked...her mannerism was a stark contrast to how she looked. Her looks exuded a certain confidence in herself, and a certain cock-sure outlook. Now she seemed...fragile. Like she was poised on the edge of shattering into smaller pieces that would take some time to reassemble. Was she really that nervous? But then, she was a runner at the firm with the senior partner in her apartment, her best friend murdered, and with a mild amount of drink in her. She was taking a shot it seemed. Some kind of wild jab at finding some kind of comfort, even if only for a night. He could leave. Walk out the door, leave her to her grief, leave her to find the pieces of herself, and piece them together, but that would likely alienate her from him on a fairly complete basis. And that would serve no one, least of all him. For the cause he was supporting, he would have to... what, take on for the team? He caught himself before he smiled. es, because spending the night with a woman like this would be such an onerous task. He leaned forward, and very gently rested a hand on her knee. The fabric was softer than he'd expected, and the small patch of skin that he found under his palm was likewise. He waited until she would meet his gaze before speaking. Yes. If you want me to. He answered softly, his tone very gentle, holding no trace of anything but the desire to comfort a person. He kept his features soft with a single, barely perceptable smile.