It was a gorgeous evening - warm, though slightly cloudy, but the clouds only made the sunset that much better. It was the perfect sort of night for sitting on the porch of the Red Dragon, with a couple of cold beers, rocking slowly back and forth on one of the swings while doing script revisions. It was honestly Lelah's least favorite part of film making, but it was sometimes necessary. Today, she was pruning, trying to get everything down to under the 90 minute mark.
She glanced up at the people passing by in the street in front of the Inn, and gave them vague smiles before sipping more beer and hacking off another page of the script. Lush lips pursed in thought as she tapped a pen against her chin, she wondered for at least the fifty-thousandth time today if maybe a two hour film wouldn't be a better idea. Could she squeeze the best, most important parts of the story into only 90 minutes? Probably not.
Up the walk and he took the steps of the inn by twos, dark figure lit by the red glow of the cherry of the cigarette clenched between teeth. Gideon's posture seemed to have changed, and not for the better. Proud set of shoulders hunched slightly inward with the deep shove of both hands in the pockets of his trousers. He still dressed like a prince, though, in spite of his fallen demeanor, the dark, thinly pinstriped three piece suit completed with a crisp white shirt and a tie so startlingly crimson even in the dim light of the porch the silk seemed to glow. He tossed the cigarette underfoot to grind it out as he reached for the door, but the close of his hand over the knob was stopped by a familiar face. He ducked his head to the side as he searched the gloom. Lelah sat just down the porch, scribbling on a piece of paper, and he half debated the interruption as his hand slid away from the door knob.
Attention stolen by Gideon's arrival, she turned wary eyes on him, his body language speaking volumes. Someone had taught him a lesson, and recently, too. Gone was the brattiness, the insouciant lines of his face, that cynical smirk that usually rode his lips like a badge of honor. Was this something to celebrate or to be wary of? She kept these thoughts off her face, though, and forced a small smile for him. "Hello, Gideon," she said, pleasantly enough.
"Hullo, Lelah." No need to concern himself with interruptions as she turned toward him of her own accord. Several ambling steps brought him a bit closer to her perch, and the flash of a half-curved smile shone against the shadows of his face, all odd angles and lines in the lamplight. Sweet Lelah, simple, wonderful, Lelah. Safe, surely. He seemed to relax slightly as he regarded her with a touch of warmth. "I haven't seen you in a while."
"Been busy," she said neutrally, trying really hard not to draw away form him as he came closer. "Auditions for the film started today." She glanced down at the script in her lap, then back up at his face. "Going inside?"
"Sure, care to join me?" Perhaps it was his own distraction, or perhaps he'd just become absently accustomed to Lelah and her vague oddities, but he failed to notice her unease, offering her a hand.
Boy, was she glad that she had a reason not to take his hand, what with the empty beer bottle, script, and her bag to hold. Standing, she smoothed down her skirts and slipped her hand inside her bag, small fingers curling around a particular object inside it. She headed for the door and waited for him to open it. She was the sort of girl for whom doors were always opened.
Hand ignored with her own full, he affected a shrug and followed her to the door to draw it open for her, that familiar broad smile back in place as if it had never left. He slid a hand to the small of her back as he followed her inside, fully intending to steer her through the crowd and toward the bar. "It's good to see you again, luv."
Ah, but you can't bullsh*t a professional bullsh*tter, can you? She knew what she'd seen on his face when he thought he wasn't being observed and she picked at it silently, as if it were a scab over a fresh wound. She headed inside in front of him, feeling a strange little itch right between her shoulder blades as she turned her back to him...and then a strange little thrill of fear when he actually touched her. "You, too," she said and tossed him a strained smile over her shoulder.
Fingers cool through the cloth of her dress, he grinned down at her, cool eyes shining slightly as he steered her around the press of bodies and drew a chair out for her. "So, new script? Do you ever rest?" He nodded toward the loosely bound paper clutched in her hand.
Dark, kohl-lined eyes scanned the crowd before she sat down in the chair he'd pulled out for her. A genuine smile when she spotted Alain and the line of her shoulders relaxed. Turning to face Gideon, she shook her head. "Not new," she explained and withdrew her hand from her bag, her fingers still curled around something small enough to rest fully concealed in the palm of her small hand. "Revisions on the one we're going to start shooting next month. Trying to fit the whole story into 90 minutes."
Alain returned Lelah's smile when their eyes meet, however briefly, and he seemed to relax as she does.
A foot on the kick rail of the bar, Gideon stepped upward and leaned over the counter to grab a bottle of Aberlour and two glasses. He leaned an elbow on the tacky surface of the wood as he worked the cork loose and totted out a measure of scotch for each of them. "Oh? And which movie is this?"
She glanced up at the people passing by in the street in front of the Inn, and gave them vague smiles before sipping more beer and hacking off another page of the script. Lush lips pursed in thought as she tapped a pen against her chin, she wondered for at least the fifty-thousandth time today if maybe a two hour film wouldn't be a better idea. Could she squeeze the best, most important parts of the story into only 90 minutes? Probably not.
Up the walk and he took the steps of the inn by twos, dark figure lit by the red glow of the cherry of the cigarette clenched between teeth. Gideon's posture seemed to have changed, and not for the better. Proud set of shoulders hunched slightly inward with the deep shove of both hands in the pockets of his trousers. He still dressed like a prince, though, in spite of his fallen demeanor, the dark, thinly pinstriped three piece suit completed with a crisp white shirt and a tie so startlingly crimson even in the dim light of the porch the silk seemed to glow. He tossed the cigarette underfoot to grind it out as he reached for the door, but the close of his hand over the knob was stopped by a familiar face. He ducked his head to the side as he searched the gloom. Lelah sat just down the porch, scribbling on a piece of paper, and he half debated the interruption as his hand slid away from the door knob.
Attention stolen by Gideon's arrival, she turned wary eyes on him, his body language speaking volumes. Someone had taught him a lesson, and recently, too. Gone was the brattiness, the insouciant lines of his face, that cynical smirk that usually rode his lips like a badge of honor. Was this something to celebrate or to be wary of? She kept these thoughts off her face, though, and forced a small smile for him. "Hello, Gideon," she said, pleasantly enough.
"Hullo, Lelah." No need to concern himself with interruptions as she turned toward him of her own accord. Several ambling steps brought him a bit closer to her perch, and the flash of a half-curved smile shone against the shadows of his face, all odd angles and lines in the lamplight. Sweet Lelah, simple, wonderful, Lelah. Safe, surely. He seemed to relax slightly as he regarded her with a touch of warmth. "I haven't seen you in a while."
"Been busy," she said neutrally, trying really hard not to draw away form him as he came closer. "Auditions for the film started today." She glanced down at the script in her lap, then back up at his face. "Going inside?"
"Sure, care to join me?" Perhaps it was his own distraction, or perhaps he'd just become absently accustomed to Lelah and her vague oddities, but he failed to notice her unease, offering her a hand.
Boy, was she glad that she had a reason not to take his hand, what with the empty beer bottle, script, and her bag to hold. Standing, she smoothed down her skirts and slipped her hand inside her bag, small fingers curling around a particular object inside it. She headed for the door and waited for him to open it. She was the sort of girl for whom doors were always opened.
Hand ignored with her own full, he affected a shrug and followed her to the door to draw it open for her, that familiar broad smile back in place as if it had never left. He slid a hand to the small of her back as he followed her inside, fully intending to steer her through the crowd and toward the bar. "It's good to see you again, luv."
Ah, but you can't bullsh*t a professional bullsh*tter, can you? She knew what she'd seen on his face when he thought he wasn't being observed and she picked at it silently, as if it were a scab over a fresh wound. She headed inside in front of him, feeling a strange little itch right between her shoulder blades as she turned her back to him...and then a strange little thrill of fear when he actually touched her. "You, too," she said and tossed him a strained smile over her shoulder.
Fingers cool through the cloth of her dress, he grinned down at her, cool eyes shining slightly as he steered her around the press of bodies and drew a chair out for her. "So, new script? Do you ever rest?" He nodded toward the loosely bound paper clutched in her hand.
Dark, kohl-lined eyes scanned the crowd before she sat down in the chair he'd pulled out for her. A genuine smile when she spotted Alain and the line of her shoulders relaxed. Turning to face Gideon, she shook her head. "Not new," she explained and withdrew her hand from her bag, her fingers still curled around something small enough to rest fully concealed in the palm of her small hand. "Revisions on the one we're going to start shooting next month. Trying to fit the whole story into 90 minutes."
Alain returned Lelah's smile when their eyes meet, however briefly, and he seemed to relax as she does.
A foot on the kick rail of the bar, Gideon stepped upward and leaned over the counter to grab a bottle of Aberlour and two glasses. He leaned an elbow on the tacky surface of the wood as he worked the cork loose and totted out a measure of scotch for each of them. "Oh? And which movie is this?"