casual encounters || torrence

"Proper punishment? That what you're after?" Now she was speaking his language. If he didn't enjoy the chores of punishment so much, he might wonder why she didn't just ask her husband to play this little game with her. Then again, marriage didn't seem to mean the same to her as it did to someone like his Nan who was always after him about that topic. It wasn't a familiar situation.. to be used like this, as someone's side piece, but on second thought, he actually didn't mind much. Under all the prissy poshness, Evie was much similar to him than she probably knew. Of course, this girl probably thought no one could come close to her 'perfection'. The thought made him snicker before he rolled his eyes at her.

Her penchant for the dramatic made her entertaining at times, but mildly annoying at others. He wasn't particularly interested in fictional tales, imaginary marriages, or anything of the like so he just sighed and ignored it. He wondered if she would be mad at that, poor girl probably wasn't used to not having someone hang on her every word. Why were girls so obsessed with letter writing. Evie was lucky that he had responded to her owl at all and now she was asking for long-form letters? Love letters at that? Torr rounded the bench again and passed behind her, coming quite close and slowing as he was right behind her. "I could always just tell you everything I intend to do to you instead," he offered, his breath moving her hair slightly at his closeness. Nudes were fun, sure, but he was much more interested in a face to face rendezvous. He let his hand trail across her back, teasing her with his touch, before he moved on and inspected one of his cauldrons.

With his long wand, he checked the heat under one of the cauldrons that held a potion he had been brewing since last week. It was temperamental about the heat. Evie, however, was annoyingly distracting as always. While the idea of sneaking around behind her husband's back did amuse and entice him, the idea of being her little in house potions pet did not. "I'm not one of your fucking pets, Evie. I'm not interested in a little potions room at your estate." He turned and leaned against his workbench as he looked over at her, his eyes a little harder, his mood shifting with a quick swoop. "I can either make the fucking potion for you or send you on your way with the ingredients. If you're looking for a monkey for hire to entertain you, better look elsewhere. You choose."

He leveled a look at her. "You can pay for the Venenum Tarda and bliss now," he told her, his voice a little harder, annoyed for some reason  by her joke. He wasn't a fucking potion vending machine and he didn't live to be at her beck and call on her whim. He moved away towards a chest, tapping it with his wand and unlocking it silently, pulling out two vials, the creamy white liquid swirling slowly in the vials that he pulled out. "Two vials enough? Mind the dosage though or it'll fuck you up," he said as he placed them into a discreet black velvet drawstring pouch and pushed them into her hand.

“Is that what I said?” she asked coyly, intrigued by the peak of interest that she assumed she could hear in his voice, though more realistically it was probably one that she could hear more in her own voice, consumed with excitement at the thought that she had him just where she wanted him. The game would play out a little differently this time around, Genevieve had absolutely no intention of crossing the boundaries but the only problem was that she wasn’t really sure where she wanted to set them in the first place. With each word and gesture, the line continued to be redrawn just a centimeter further away, consumed with confidence that someone of her status and life experience could never fall to the very attractive temptation that was Torrence Regan.

“I suppose that would be acceptable as well but I like the idea of keeping these sorts of things to return to them later, or better yet, to use them as blackmail,” she teased, feeling a shiver journey down the length of her spine as he walked closer to her. Even though she could not see him, she could feel his presence standing behind her, almost beckoning her to ignore the boundaries and societal expectations just a little longer, that in the grand scheme of things her marriage would probably be very minimally affected by her behavior. Wolfie would be a fool to not forgive her, she had stated as much to herself on several an occasion, reminding herself that he was lucky to have her and not necessarily the other way around. But even the young heiress knew such musings could not be further from the truth. It was why she didn’t do relationships, feelings of guilt never suiting her personality.

She sighed dramatically at his statement, “Oh did that hurt your feelings?” she asked, the tone and pitch of her voice changing to further annoy him, just for the sake of doing so, before bursting into laughter. “You’re the one who chose this work and now you’re upset that someone compliments you on your skills for it? They say women are confusing but you, my dear, must be the most bewildering person I’ve ever met. Unless of course, you’re only being contrary for the sake of it, and here I thought we were best of friends, Torrence, how very disappointing, but I suppose all of those brainless debutantes are much easier to talk to, they probably go along with everything, how very sad,” she continued, thinking about the options she was given before nodding in response. “Fine, fine, do brew the potion and send it my way then, I would hate to make a mistake and somehow give my uncle a much easier death than he deserves,” she noted.

“I don’t carry around coins, Torrence, you’ll have to get in touch with my accountant and he will settle everything you intend to charge me,” she added as a matter of fact, suddenly also feeling a little annoyed that he wasn’t so willing to give her the time of day she was certain she deserved. But his anger had to obviously be tied by his disappointment in her unwillingness to give in to him so quickly. “I’m plenty familiar with it,” she retorted, taking the vials from him. “So will you owl me the potion once you’ve finished it, then?”

"That's what it sounded like to me, love," he told her with a dark glittering of his eyes. Yeah, she could be coy all she wanted, but he remembered how much he had liked what he had done to her, what they had done together. She wasn't fooling him and he wasn't exactly offering it outright either. As much as she wanted it, he wondered what it would take for her to beg. The thought was intriguing...

"How would you use it as blackmail against me?" he asked, bewildered and amused at the idea. As if she could hold something over him that he would feel the need to hide. He was pretty shameless and he was sure that most people who knew him were aware of that fact. That she would think otherwise was entertaining. "I could think of a better way to spend time," he told her with a quick raise of his brows.

Her laughter grated at him. Her dramatic sigh annoyed him too. He didn't like being laughed at, especially by little chits like Evie. "Your way of complimenting others needs work," he told her sharply, talking over her diatribe. "Besides, you were one of those brainless debutantes not too long ago," he reminded her. Nothing much had changed, except for the size of her ego (it somehow had gotten bigger) and the little wedding band around that pretty little finger. But just as quickly as his mood had turned razor sharp, it swung back the other way just as easily. He paused before a chuckle rumbled through his chest as she took the vials of bliss. "Can't even pay for your own bill? Maybe I should demand payment in another way," he told her, taking a step closer and looking down at her from his height, smirking devilishly.

He shook his head slowly at her, giving her a patronizing look. "I don't owl anything. Don't want the Ministry intercepting that kind of package, would we? Guess you'll just have to stop by again. Oh and before you mention it, I only do in person transactions so don't even think about sending one of your lackies." It wasn't exactly true, he made exceptions, but for some reason, he found himself saying it. He slid away as he flipped his notebook closed and turned his back on her looking into a few of the cauldrons, smirking a bit at the thought that she was probably used to having guys drool over every word.

“Sounds like you’re hearing what you’d like for me to say,” she added, a small smirk on her face as she considered how much fun things had been with him in the past. There was little that Genevieve regretted about the extensive number of conquests she had managed from then until now but even the proud young witch had to admit that some of her more private interests had made an appearance around the time they had spent together. Not that she was going to tell him that so easily, it simply wasn’t in the woman’s nature to stroke a man’s ego for the hell of it.

“I’m sure you could but you’d be surprised at how much fun chasing off your conquests and winning your family over would be if I wished it,” she added, “but alas, I have not reached that level of boredom just yet, if I do I’ll be certain to keep you in mind,” she continued. The key point here being that she would keep him in mind much in the same way that she often thought of the people or more often, the things, that pleased her. It was a dangerous thing, her desire to see him become angry, but equally addictive as well. The witch had an obvious problem; but it was difficult, she decided, not to want some sort of punishment, even if it were only verbal, after spending so much time at home barking orders to others and making sure even the most ridiculous ones were met with the utmost care.

“I have never been brainless,” she said pointedly. Genevieve was used to men taking her wit and intelligence for granted and she did little to dissuade their beliefs as it often made it much easier to manipulate them into doing as she wished. "And you'd do well to remember that I am nothing like those little, impressionable girls you tend to gravitate to," she added rather haughtily, running a hand through her hair as she flipped it over her shoulder, giving him a look as if to insist that she was right and that she wouldn't hear otherwise.

"Oh I don't know, Torrence, I'd like to think a night with me is worth much more than a little poison," she said but had a difficult time keeping the lofty smirk off of her face, the thought of what they got into to when she was much younger a memory she was significantly fond of. "If you are so afraid of the Ministry, I suppose I can make an appearance again unless of course, this simply means that you are so eager to see me that you'd say anything to get me back here," she added, her eyes curiously eyeing the cauldrons, moving closer to one as she inspected the way it changed color and smell. If the Lovecrafts weren't the type to go on and on about their work as Potioneers, Genevieve considered that she would have enjoyed this kind of work. "I'd really like for you to come to the estate the visit but if it is so much trouble I suppose I can indulge you a little.

"Sounds like I'm hearing exactly what you're trying to tell me," he retorted, matching smirk for smirk. Her little word games and coy smiles told him almost everything he needed to know. The fact that she was here in person told him even more. But now he wondered at the why of it.

He gave her a careless shrug at her defense of being 'brainless', turning to fill vials carefully, his hands steady as the silvery liquid swirled in its glass. It didn't matter to him either way, it's not like he normally had interest in a battle of wits. Now, a battle for power and control was a whole other thing and he knew in that realm she did quite well for herself. He smirked at her insistence, turning to look at her over his shoulder and giving her a knowing look. "Ah yes, but I remember a time when you were," he told her, his eyes glittering darkly with amusement and memories.

Torr gave her a mmm sound. Disinterested, unfazed.. teasing. "So eager to see you again," he added, sarcasm coating his tone before he flicked his fingers at her, shooing her away from his cauldrons as he sidestepped to put his body in between his work and her. "Wouldn't want to get to close to that one, love. You wouldn't like the side effects," he warned her before shaking his head.

"You're crazy if you think I'm making a social call to your estate," he said before he turned back and leaned against the workbench, his arms folded across his chest. "Surprised you would even ask, honestly."

“Good, nice to know that you still know how to listen to me,” Genevieve said, pleased with the way he had so seamlessly read in between the lines of her words, the witch enjoyed speaking in code it made everything that followed open to interpretation. An when something was open to interpretation, one could take joy in reading into everything without the sort of repercussions one might encounter should they choose to speak in a straightforward manner. Deep, insightful excuses aside, Genevieve liked to be teased with words, first.

“Are you saying that you find me much more attractive when I’m vapid?” she made a face, only a small one, she knew that a slight wrinkling of the nose made for a very beautiful expression on her. A cute one, at the very least, plenty of men had said as much and while she’d usually be offended, it seemed fitting to use it on him. “Or when I’m fifteen?” she teased, she had not been exactly forthcoming with her age to begin with and had, to the best of her ability, kept it a secret from anyone else. What exciting things she got onto behind closed doors she often did brag about but she rarely revealed the identity of those she was enjoying herself with, Torrence had been no different.

“You better be,” she quipped, laughing a little at his response, though she’d expect no less than that, he’d never been the sort to do as she commanded which had been one of the many reasons their encounter had been so good yet so short. “I am simply being polite, suit yourself,” she shrugged, “All you have to do is tell me to come back, I’m perfectly capable of following orders when I’m told properly,” she encouraged.   

Torr smirked at her question and gave her a light shrug. "You said it, not me," he quipped as memories of their first encounters years ago surfaced. Had he known she was fifteen? No. But Evie had always been cunning with her lies and omissions, and had always gone after what she wanted. Dangerous quality for a woman to have. Why did that make Torr like her even more?

His devilish grin grew wider as she returned his banter just as quick and he took a step closer. "Polite, yeah sure," he replied as he looked down at her, his arms crossing in front of him as his brows flew up. He licked his lips at the innuendo and cocked his head ever so slightly. "So what if I told you to get the hell out of my shop because I have a client coming in soon and to come back next week around the same time for your other potion?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, a challenge, a command.

“All you had to do was say so,” she retorted effortlessly as if all she had wanted all along for him to tell her what to do. While Genevieve was hardly the sort to fall into old habits, considering her current condition, just another secret she was keeping hidden, she was even more careful not to give herself the opportunity to be discovered. Of course, now that the invitation to return had been opened, it was hard for the heiress to dismiss the opportunity to see him again, even if just to be teased by his words. The routine of her current life, the fact that her husband was much too busy with one thing or another to give her the attention that she believed she deserved, all culminated in a sort of restlessness that she could not contain.

“I suppose if this appointment is so important,” she shrugged off, the expression on her face and the tone of her voice making it obvious that she did not believe him in the slightest. How could anyone be more important than she was? Though she assumed whatever appointment he was waiting for was the sort that she had no interest in witnessing. “I’ll be back,” she promised, taking a velvet pouch, holding a generous amount of money, before placing it on the counter. “If you require further payment just owl, I’m happy to oblige a good friend,” she gave him a coquettish wink, pushing back her hair over her shoulder before wordlessly turning to leave out of the door.

She might have looked back, might have said goodbye, but Genevieve knew how much more thrilling it would feel to leave only to return at will. 

[/end]

"Mmhmm," he sounded as she gave her usual coquettish, coy act of 'how could anyone be more important than me?" Honestly, Torr didn't know how he put up with so many high maintenance witches. Although, it was say to safe that she did keep things interesting.

"I'll be sure to do that," he added sardonically as she dropped the heavy pouch of coins on his counter. He didn't make a move toward it. He wasn't concerned in the least about getting Evie to pay up. She was good for it, he knew that. Between her family and her husband's family, they could buy any specialty potion he created for whatever price tag he decided to put on it.

"Bye Evie," he threw at her as she turned and he took in her figure and particularly the sway of her ass before she disappeared.

/end