The start of something...
Mar. 25th, 2004 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofallgeeksHere the start of a little something I decided to do... I got bored with the book I was reading but didn't have anything yet to add tomy story, so... Maybe i'll flesh this out more once i decide exactly what sort of a relationship Dominic and Jeanine share...
"I don't think you quite understand the position you're in."
Dominic sat lounged in a leather armchair, his ankles crossed in front of him, fluted glass of red wine held aloft in his left hand. He swished the wine around in the glass, watching the crimson curtain that fell as the wave passed the sides of the glass, not watching the waif of a girl standing just the other side of the low mahogany coffee table.
She stood there, her thick hooded sweatshirt a darker grey on her shoulders and arms than around her waist, damp with the rain water that even now pelted the tall paneled windows looking out over the mansions gardens. Her hands we clenched into fists, white-knuckled and trembling. The poor girl trembled from head to sodden, sneaker-clad toe, dripping rainwater onto the thick Persian rug beneath her. Errant strands of mousy hair escaped her wet pony-tail, trailing down her pale cheek and across her brown eyes, which looked as if they would burn holes into him, if the could.
She was beautiful in the way only a woman flush with anger could be.
"Sit down, Jeanine." Dominic said, amiably. When she didn't move, he repeated, "Sit," stern, as a father might command a misbehaved child.
She blinked once, shocked, and then sat, her damp jeans coloring the sofa beneath her a deeper shade of red. Her hands her were still clenched into fists and her jaw set, but there was something more than anger behind her eyes now. There was fear.
"That's a good girl. You really should have thought about it first, dear, before barging in here and making demands of me – of me! In my own home! Such a foolish girl."
The windows rattled in the wind and rain, and the candles burning around the room, the only light, flickered in a slight draft.
"I don't think you quite understand the position you're in."
Dominic sat lounged in a leather armchair, his ankles crossed in front of him, fluted glass of red wine held aloft in his left hand. He swished the wine around in the glass, watching the crimson curtain that fell as the wave passed the sides of the glass, not watching the waif of a girl standing just the other side of the low mahogany coffee table.
She stood there, her thick hooded sweatshirt a darker grey on her shoulders and arms than around her waist, damp with the rain water that even now pelted the tall paneled windows looking out over the mansions gardens. Her hands we clenched into fists, white-knuckled and trembling. The poor girl trembled from head to sodden, sneaker-clad toe, dripping rainwater onto the thick Persian rug beneath her. Errant strands of mousy hair escaped her wet pony-tail, trailing down her pale cheek and across her brown eyes, which looked as if they would burn holes into him, if the could.
She was beautiful in the way only a woman flush with anger could be.
"Sit down, Jeanine." Dominic said, amiably. When she didn't move, he repeated, "Sit," stern, as a father might command a misbehaved child.
She blinked once, shocked, and then sat, her damp jeans coloring the sofa beneath her a deeper shade of red. Her hands her were still clenched into fists and her jaw set, but there was something more than anger behind her eyes now. There was fear.
"That's a good girl. You really should have thought about it first, dear, before barging in here and making demands of me – of me! In my own home! Such a foolish girl."
The windows rattled in the wind and rain, and the candles burning around the room, the only light, flickered in a slight draft.
