Lesser, Greater, Middling

[Bears]

"She drove him mad, entirely mad, and there was nothing he could do about it but feel himself fall for it, time and time again."​

 

[Bears]

Franchesca entered the darkened room with an incredible flurry of emotions growing within her. She saw very little, only the makings of the floor and the end of an incredibly expensive looking bed illuminated by the warm lights of the hallway. Excitement, fear, wonder... it all mixed together to make a nearly indescribable feeling. A feeling all too similar to the one she had felt when she first asked the professor to not hesitate with her.

The young woman held her breath and held Wolfgang's hand harder until finally, with a dramatic reveal, he flicked the switch and an absolutely beautiful room was brought to light. She let out a quieted gasp, a rare moment in the form of her hand willingly drifting from his touch so she could wander her home for the next two days. Franchesca had stayed at some nice hotels in her life, some even had rooftop pools, but this room alone was already incomparable.

"Holy shit." She laughed, another breath of disbelief leaving her as with wide eyes, Franchesca wandered across the room. Everything from the mural, to the color scheme, to the chocolate waiting for her on the bed. It was incredible. When Wolfgang called out to ask her if she liked everything, Franchesca was already in the bathroom exploring the fixtures with the same amount of awe she had the rest of the room.

When she returned she nodded, nearly fervently, the excitement giving her a minor case of the giggles as she looked a little closer to the painting on the wall. Her hand brushed against the surface, it must've taken the artist quite the long time to complete such a grand image and for a moment her imagination went wild and Franchesca wondered if the mural was the same in every other suite towards the top floor.

The sound of Wolfgang crashing, pardon her, the sound of Wolfgang melting into the bed was enough to redirect Franchesca's attention, however. Her smile grew and with no hesitation she jumped onto the other side on all fours, landing and pushing Wolfgang up slightly as result. "Mhmm. Yeah. I really, really like this bed." Franchesca noted, pressing down against clouds as she seemed to knead like a cat in order to reach her conclusion. Franchesca crawled over to the the pillows, popping open the case and taking her first bite of authentic German chocolate.

It was dark but rich in a way she had yet to ever experience. The sweetness that melted into her mouth made it so Franchesca could not resist the temptation of eating another one. "Would you like a piece, Mr. Reiter?" She asked moments later, pausing and eating a third piece herself as she waited for an answer. Whatever he may have said, it soon became apparent Franchesca did not care as Mrs. Reiter crawled back over to her lover and appeared suddenly in his vision, but upside down.

Franchesca gave Wolfgang his piece in the form of a German chocolate tinged kiss. The richness melted even further against the heat of such an embrace. Her hair tumbled over the both of them, sprawling out in curls along the length of his chest, and her lips played with his slowly. Her tongue was unafraid to give him a taste of what was to come and her hands kept her from falling completely into him. When she parted it was a matter of centimeters, his breath hot against her flushed skin.

"How'd it taste?"​

 

[Nav]

Wolfgang's eyes followed her as she moved all around the room, her hand touching each and every object like she couldn't believe it was real until it came into contact with her fingertips. His brain tingled like a hand that was sat on for too long. A smirk was playing at the corner of his lips as he sprawled. When she reappeared from the bathroom, explored the mural on the wall, only to return and bounce on the bed a moment later, Wolfgang felt something new.

It was as if invisible holes were poked in his skin during the flight and all his tension leeched out. She laughed, stuffing chocolates in her mouth, and it was like a sound he hadn't heard in a thousand years, and it was a sound he'd wait another thousand to hear again. He didn't care about the chocolate, he didn't even bother to answer her on the subject. He'd let her eat every single one if he could hear the joy brimming in her voice for a while longer.

He didn't even care about her opinion of the bed, really, so long as she was happy. And happy, it seemed, they both were. She crawled over top of him, upside down, and he ended up laughing a moment later.

There was just something about the way Franchesca smiled; the way butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of his stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in his heart. It was the kind of smile that made him feel happy to be alive and just that little bit more human. Franchesca ruined art for him forever; he would never be able to pain with the same dark, moody emotion he was known for… but he didn't care.

If he could kiss Franchesca but once, he'd give up art forever. He'd never so much as lift a brush again, if that's what it took.

He didn't need to wait long. His eyelids fluttered close as Franchesca teased him with an impossibly sweet kiss. The familiar taste of cocoa and sugar tingled at the very edge of his tastebuds, though he cared less about the taste and more about the mouth they were coming from. Her hair, tumbling down around his face tickled his neck and cheeks, broadening his smirk.

"It tastes divine," he answered. His hands reached up, pushing through her hair and tugging back the locks. "I'd like to taste more, but only secondarily."

Unwilling to wait for her any longer, Wolfgang popped his head up just far enough to land another kiss against her lips, dragging his hands backwards through her hair, clenching lightly a fistful of those near-black curls. Sleeping was just going to have to wait.​

 

[Bears]

The baritone of his voice and rasp of his answer was enough to make any girl go wild, Franchesca was sure. In her case, his response was enough to send a wave of pleasant chills down the column of her spine, enough to make her lips twitch happily at the thought of fulfilling his request. But the best part, and perhaps the sweetest part, was knowing that those words weren't for any girl and that they were for her and solely for her.

Wolfgang was hers and she was his and in that hotel room the rest of world suddenly no longer mattered.

Though she had intended to, Mr. Reiter chose to to not give her the chance to return to him, and instead he brought himself to her. It was enough to surprise Franchesca, but the light tug that she felt as his hand grasped at her hair was enough to excite her. The action was enough to pull her head back oh so lightly and in that small moment before their lips touched again, she smiled.

Her eyes found his under the shade of her dark locks. She nearly said it right then, the three big words, but instead her lips just quivered before her mind and body decided it had gone too long without touching him. Franchesca pressed down once more, the heat between them rising to that boiling point once more. For the second time that evening, she felt the straps of her dress fall off of her shoulders and for the second time that evening, she found complete and utter bliss in Wolfgang's firm but tender embrace.


Franchesca wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, only that she had done so having been completely spent. When she woke it was to the sensation of her bare skin held against his, the soft duvet shielding the both of them from the beginning of morning light. Wolfgang's arm was wrapped around Franchesca as it was always meant to do and her eyes did not fully open, indeed the young woman examined the chaotic after effects of their lovemaking underneath the lashes of her gaze.

Franchesca traced along the outline of their bodies, pillows and excess bedding distraught all along the trail. She stopped as her eyes came to rest against Wolfgang's resting face and there she spent a minute content to just listen to him breathe. Soon enough Franchesca stretched upwards and kissed him on the hollow of his cheek, murmuring happily underneath a head full of messied hair.

"Good morning, my heart."​

 

[Nav]

He was in the stairwell again. Going up, going down, it didn't matter. He stood below the single light and stared at the door, but this time, nothing happened. It didn't last long and the rest of the night, he didn't remember his dreams. It wasn't until morning, when a hazy half-light peeked in through the blinds not drawn completely shut, did a carousel of random ideas come to some order—a subtle awareness of who he was under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to his waking life. After a few minutes, he began to analyze them in a lazy way. Some were composed as if from a book, some were just silly nothing ideas.

In another moment, they were gone leaving no trade. If they were still in his head, there was no bread crumb trail back to them. His pupils rolled beneath his eyelids. Slowly and reluctantly, he opened his eyes when lips touched his cheek. He blinked, closed his eyes, and blinked again. Streaks of the rising sun penetrate the window and blinded him. "Mmm." His response to her sweet greeting a huff of confused sounds.

Everything was blurry. For a second, he didn't know who or where he was. He didn't know how he got in that bed, or how he lost all of his clothes. He knew the heat of the woman's body felt divine, and the light caressing his back was warming.

"Good morning," he said woozily once his thoughts organized themselves. He was in the hotel in Germany. The woman was Franchesca, and he was Wolfgang. It was Saturday. His finger stirred at her shoulder, the pads of his fingers stroking the length of her arm from elbow to bicep. His toes wiggled and a smile worked its way into the corner of his lips, though even his dimples had a way of looking sleepy in the throes of the early morning.

"You look beautiful," he murmured. His hand managed to peel away from her arm and rise up to push through the knotty locks of dark hair. His fingers encountered knot after knot, but he worked through them with a loving tenderness, gently separating them as he stroked his fingers through the locks.

"What time do you have to meet Dandelion's assistant? Do you remember?" His mind was waking up enough that he was making the jump to one and two word thoughts to complete sentences again. He pondered their morning, and how much time they had… if they had enough time to shower, dress, and go downstairs for some breakfast before they separated for a few hours.​

 

[Bears]

"Mhm. No, you look beautiful." Franchesca mumbled with a contented sigh as his fingers undid the knots he had a part in making the night before. She let her eyes fall to a close again, falling a little more herself into her lover now that Wolfgang was awake and coherent enough to receive her affection. At the mentioning of Dandelion and assistants, her happy little noises were replaced by a groan and she nuzzled against him stubbornly.

"I don't remember but if she thinks she can cart me off to some mall before I get some breakfast with my man, she's dead wrong." Franchesca murmured lazily into the nape of his neck.

Her words and moans, pressed up against the bend in his neck, cause a rumbling sensation to creep up through his body and he laughed in response. He smoothed down her hair, hooking his other arm around her waist and holding her close. "Alright, well, we'll plan on breakfast then. We need to actually get out of bed to make that, though."

The bed was like a nest of contentment. Sheets were crumpled and the duvet was bunched up so his feet were exposed at the end of the bed. Pillows were pushed to the floor, though a few survived teetering on the far edges. It almost saddened him to know they'd have to get out at some point. "If it helps, I doubt you'll be going to a mall."

Franchesca groaned again as she rolled over. The young woman still stayed within the length of his arms but laid flat on her back, her own arms spreading out, with one hand landing lightly on his chest and the other knocking down a stray pillow to the floor.

"Ugh, fine." Franchesca grumbled a moment later, sitting up and giving him a quick peck on the lips before swinging her feet over the side of the bed. The young woman stood up, gathering her hair and holding it up as she made her way into the bathroom. "It does not help by the way!" She clarified from inside, laughing to herself as she stepped into the shower.

The water came on and the warmth, though not nearly as comfortable as Wolfgang's, was welcome all the same. "What do you plan to do today my darling? It better not be following me around because you are not seeing the dress until tonight." She then called out, her voice trailing out into the the rest of the room like the healthy amount of steam from the shower.

As she got up, Wolfgang didn't follow her lead, though he did let his eyes trail after her, enjoying each curve and shape of her body in the unlit room. Once she vanished into the bathroom, he sat up and groggily pushed a hand through his hair. The slightly greasy locks, desperate for a shower, flopped back over in front of his forehead anew. "I'll probably spend some time with some very old acquaintances of mine," he explained, raising his voice to be heard over the shower.

Bringing his legs over the edge of the bed, he ambled into the bathroom and peeled by the far edge of the shower curtain just enough that he could peek in with a silly smirk. "Though I'll need to be my usual curt self. I can't have you ruining the stern and stoic image I've spent years crafting for myself."

"I'm okay with that. They get the stern and stoic and I get the sexy and sappy. That's a pretty sweet deal." Franchesca mused playfully, bending over toe examine the fancy soap she didn't get the pleasure of inspecting the night before. She unwrapped it and pressed it the space between nose and lip. It smelled like vanilla. It was only then did Franchesca notice that his voice had gotten a lot closer. She turned and Wolfgang there, watching her with a cheeky little expression. Franchesca did not hesitate to splash water at her lover.

"Are you going to join me or just stand there and watch?" She laughed warmly. "It would save an awful amount of time you know, if you did. It's all about efficiency, Wolfie. Efficiency."

"Sappy?" he scoffed at her, shaking his head, but his smirk broadening when she turned to see him. A soft mewl of surprise escaped him as his head snapped back, eyes clamping closed, in surprise of the water attack. "I was just going to watch for my pleasure," he explained, swiping some droplets of water away from his face. "But if you're going to go on about efficiency, who am I to argue?"

Pulling back the curtain just far enough so he could step into the tub, Wolfgang came up behind her. His hands fell on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles at the base of her neck and all the way down her back. Water wetted his hair against his forehead, but all he could be concerned with was pressing a damp kiss against the side of her neck.

It seemed that the best way to answer Franchesca's mischief was for Wolfgang to get up close and personal, as the moment he stepped inside and laid his hands on her wet skin, she softened against him. She let her neck crane slightly at his kiss, a small smile finding her lips as it got even hotter in an already steamy shower.

Franchesca turned hastily and threw a single arm around his neck, pulling him in for a wet kiss. The water from the shower head fell on him a little more directly as a result and when she broke free he was nearly as wet as her. "See? Efficient." Franchesca grinned, taking the small little tub of shampoo and tiptoeing to run some of it through his hair.

"It's a shame that we can't just hold up in here all day." Franchesca noted, chuckling with bewilderment at how bubbly things had suddenly become between them. Franchesca quickly realized that she may have used too much.

"Aaah." No one had ever shampooed his hair before, and Franchesca went a little crazy with the number of suds. The bubbly streams dripped down his body, his face, and he clenched his eyes closed in order to avoid a terrible, soapy stinging. He still ended up dipping his head for her, though, so she could work her fingers against his scalp. Despite the amount of bubbles, a contended murmur rolled through his chest.

"It is," he agreed, though his answering was met with regret when shampoo ran into his mouth and caused his nose to crinkle with distaste. "Alright, you're off shampoo duty." He kept his hand on her waist but dunked his head below the shower head, using his free hand to work the suds from his hair. By extension, he managed to clear out his mouth and eyes. "I don't know how much shampoo you use for your hair, my heart, but I have considerably less hair than you do."

His eyelashes clumped together with moisture, appearing thicker and darker than usual as he turned his gaze to her with a devilish smirk. "At least I'm clean now."

"I didn't use that much now. It... must be the shampoo or something... I wouldn't know. This is the first time I've stayed in such a fancy suite. This shampoo could cost more than a night in the Tregua for all I know." Franchesca pouted less than seriously, laughing as he pressed forward and back under the shower head. If you had told her that two weeks after the semester started she'd be standing happily naked with Wolfgang in a tub she would've thought you were insane.

The look he gave her next was more naughty than she expected of a man that had just finished hacking out sweet lavender wash and Franchesca's brows narrowed despite the smile that remained painted on her lips. "All clean just in time for some breakfast and then an entire day with old acquaintances. Oof." She teased, crossing her arms underneath her chest and pushing him lightly with her body.

"You going to miss me?"

"Mmm, yes, but I'll be able to see you in a gown tonight, so it's worth the suffering." Putting a dollop of soap in his palm, he rubbed it down the beautiful column of Franchesa's neck and shoulders. His hands wrapped around to the back of her shoulder blades, enjoying the feeling of those beautiful curves and planes.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how fervently he could wish to kiss a woman. How much desire for her burned within him, and how much he knew it was going to hurt when it came to it's inevitable end. Shaking that thought from his mind, knowing it wouldn't end that night, he returned his smile.

"I'll miss you very much," he answered. "And I know you'll miss me, so I'm not even going to bother asking."

"Oh? Are you so certain? How do you know I'm not just using to propel myself into artistic stardom?" Franchesca questioned lightly, his arms coming to wrap around the width of her body once more. One hand rose to wipe away wet strands of hair from her face, before coming to rest on the solidness of his chest. Franchesca stopped speaking as her hand seemed content to tempt him, slowly dropping lower and lower, the more distance she covered the less fingers she came to use. By the time one finger rested just below his navel, a smirk came as she swiveled it ever so slightly.

"We really, really should get some breakfast, darling." Franchesca reminded him, though the gesture between them remained.

me," he reminded her. She had him wrapped around her itsybitsy little finger and she must have known it; the same finger resting just below his navel, giving him shivers of need and desire.

He would have been more encouraged to act on those feelings had he not felt a little bit obligated to meet their deadlines, and make sure Franchesca was getting enough to eat. He had pinky promised her aunt, after all, go look out for her.​

 

[Nav]

Wolfgang made no move to act on her unsaid proposal and Franchesca took it with grace, smiling warmly as for the last time in the shower, she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Both her hands rose to cradle his face and it was only when the hollowness of her stomach reminded her did she step away.

"I'll let you finish up." Franchesca breathed, pulling away and pulling aside the curtain for just a moment so she could step out. Ignoring the fluffy bathrobes hanging for now, Franchesca grabbed a towel from the same rack and dried herself. She returned to the the room moments later, opening up her suitcase and dressing in highwaisted jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

Her aunt recommended that she'd keep up appearances at all times because you never know who you might run into but Franchesca couldn't help but prioritize comfort knowing she'd be taking it all off later for fittings. Waiting for Wolfgang to get ready she scanned the room for a moment, locating the room service ribbon that they needed to hang up on the door on the way out.

The minute she stepped away, Wolfgang regretted his decision to be the mature adult and to get them to breakfast on time so their days could commence. He whimpered, and was quick to wash the rest of the soap from his hair and body before shutting off the water. He hardly dried himself off before winding the towel around his waist.

Water siphoned off his hair in streams and rivers down his chest and he left wet footprints in the carpet as he left the bathroom.

"That's a nice shirt," he complimented, stepping up next to her and shaking his hair and sending a spray of water all across her, and her white shirt. With a bright laugh and a brilliant grin, he looked to her. "It looks like you might need to take it off though."


It was fair enough pay back, she supposed, after all Franchesca was the first one to splash him. She was a little surprised nonetheless and it showed in the way she flinched at the action of him shaking off the water. She paused, looking over at him with a growing amount of amusement before glancing back down at her shirt. "Damn. You're right." Franchesca admitted, her hands grabbing the hem and pulling it over her hair a moment later. She cast it aside and looked back up to him.

"Keep teasing like that and I'm pretty sure we'll just have to order room service." Franchesca warned with a small wink.

"I'll go all day without breakfast," he replied, slicking his hair back just enough that it was out of his face of the view. With the shirt out of his way, his hands were quick to her sides, reaching up the length of her ribcage and wrapping around to unhook her bra.

"You know, just in the off event this garment is wet, as well. It could cause... chaffing?" All the pretense of the cool and collected Wolfgang Reiter had slid away to reveal a playful, almost childish, side to him. He'd lived long enough to know whatever it was he had with Franchesca, he'd never be able to replicate with another. It'd end, of that he was certain, but he'd enjoy every minute he was blessed with.

"Now we can't have any of that..." Franchesca breathed, biting down on her lip as his fingers ran across the surface of her skin and along the slight dips of her sides. She laughed as the article of clothing went loose against her, wasting no time to reach up and slide it up and off. Her hands came back down to his waist, and tugged on the towel wrapped around it. Franchesca walked backwards, pulling him with her until the back of her knees were pressed against the end of the bed.

"I think you got some water on my jeans too." Franchesca then said, a glint of mischief in her brown eyes as she knew she that was all she really had to say to Wolfgang.

"Hmm, yes, I think you're right. Again, we can't have you going out in public with wet clothes. You'll catch a cold, and your aunt may kill me," he continued. With Franchesca knees against the back of the bed, it wasn't hard to keep his arm firmly around her waist and ease her back. There, it was easy to unbutton her jeans and tug them down, wasting no time and hooking his fingers below her undergarments, as well.

What was it that she had said before? Efficiency.

He walked himself up over top of her on his hands until he could land his lips on hers. It was all she needed to say, and he was perfectly happy making them plenty late for breakfast.

The more she was brought back into the bed, the more her heart began to race inside her chest. She felt the last of her clothes slip off with little more than a quieted whimper, and leaned back slowly as Wolfgang came closer and closer. Her body was at an angle, kept up by her palms, when they kissed again and there she remained for some time, her arms brushing along the length of his shoulders as they came to wind around his neck hungrily. The honeymoon suite, indeed.


Half an hour later what clothes her lover had gotten wet were dried and put back on a little sloppily compared to the first go. Franchesca's stomach growled as she stepped out into the hallway after Wolfgang, but she was anything but displeased. Her smile was happily messy, much like her hair, and quickly she took the room service ribbon and left it on the door handle.

Her gaze turned to Wolfgang after, her lips curving into a knowing smirk, before she nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "So... breakfast. Shall we?"

Wolfgang was a little less than properly put together himself. Though in a nice black suit, his hair dried a bit disheveled, and he couldn't knock the small smirk from his lips no matter how he tried. He accumulated his other belongings: his wallet, the key card, and slid his watch over his hand, before clasping it in place.

"We shall," he agreed, sending a passing glance into the mirror, frowning at the tousles of his bright silver hair, and choosing to ultimately ignore what he saw. "Come, my heart," he murmured, rocking with the bump of her shoulder against his. "To breakfast we shall finally go."

They were bound to be late, though Wolfgang was on no specific time table like Franchesca was. She needed to shop, and dress herself... in comparison, being a male was much easier, though he would shower again, and later shave. Taking her hand gingerly in his own, he walked with her, side by side, to the lift and to the ground floor, where breakfast was being served. He recognized some faces near immediately, lingering over coffee and after-breakfast whiskey.

Deciding it was not yet time for introduction, he slid his hand free and placed it instead on the small of Franchesca's back. "This table do?"

It was not their first time walking hand-in-hand but it was their first time doing so in such a public setting. That hadn't dawned on her until the lift doors slid open and the both of them stepped out into a lobby that was naturally busier than the midnight hour they had arrive at. Everyone looked so refined, so poised and expensive that Franchesca could not help but dig the thumb of her free hand into her index finger.

"This will do." Franchesca grinned lightly before straightening out her top a little more as she sat down. The young woman placed the round sunglasses she had nearly forgotten in all the sweet chaos on the table and watched Wolfgang for a moment as his eyes drifted long the room towards strangers. Her gaze followed and when they returned to him she chuckled.

"What do I say by the way? If I'm with you and someone who's probably important comes to greet the Wolfgang Reiter?" Franchesca asked with a small tilt of her head and a curious look on her face.

Wolfgang took his seat only after she did, leaning back and politely resting his hands in his lap after flipping over his coffee mug to signal his intense need for caffeine. Unlike the typical, run of the mill continental breakfast served at Marriots and Hotel Sixs, the breakfast provided by their hotel was order only. Menus and waters were quickly provided by a hostess who smiled, and said something to them in German. Judging by the inflection in her voice, it would have been easy to tell it was a welcoming.

He flipped through his menu, perusing the familiar German vocabulary when Franchesca spoke. His eyes lifted to her. "I see you still think much to highly of me," he replied, setting his menu down again. "You may say whatever you'd like, Franchesca. If you want to be my apprentice, that's fine. If you want to be my lover, that is also alright. If you'd like to spend the weekend being Mrs Reiter, even that doesn't bother me. I care more about you being comfortable, than saying what you think is expected of you."

He paused, tapping his fingers on the edge of his water glass. "Though, if Dandelion had the audacity to make our reservation the way he did, I wouldn't be an ounce surprised if he's already talked about you to some extent."

Franchesca's eyes peered around the room moments after, looking for the table set aside to hold the trays for the breakfast buffet, but was instead greeted by a menu. It wasn't what she was used to but Franchesca had a feeling that wouldn't be the first time she was caught off guard this weekend. She opened it to find a series of words she could not understand, and with a slight pinkness to her cheeks she could almost laugh.

Wolfgang spoke and she looked back up, lowering her menu so she could see him. After a moment of thought, and taking the time to listen to his theory regarding Dandelion, she replied with a firm nod. "Mrs. Reiter it is then, though I hope your mentor hasn't painted too big of an image of me that I'll be forced to do something even crazier to break out of its shadow."

Franchesca ended up closing her menu and setting it aside lightly with a laugh. "Care to order for me, Mr. Reiter? I don't know a lick of German."

"I'm sure he's gone on to tell gross fallacies of you. Something along the lines of you, alone, pulled the sword from Excalibur stone, and that it was you who defeated the Huns single handedly, and you dated JFK of something of the sort."

Dandelion had a way of extending the truth and more than just extending it, damn well making it up. The story that Wolfgang was half Chinese royalty still circulated the community.

"Mm. Do you prefer sweet or savoury and is there anything you don't like?" There were parts of the menu even Wolfgang didn't understand, as his German was different than the German spoken in Germany, but it was close enough he could figure most out.

"John F. Kennedy and Wolfgang Reiter in one lifetime? I must seem quite the girl to all these neatly dressed strangers." Franchesca noted with amusement, her eyes drifting towards the foreign faces in the room over her glass of water. The young woman leaned back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Sweet."

"You're probably Elvis in a body suit, as well. We've given Dandelion too much time to be left to his own devices," he mused, setting the menu down on to the table. Their server came over, and after a few moments back and forth in two different renditions of German, Frühstück had been ordered.

"I ordered you a Mohnstückchen," she said, glancing over to judge her reaction to the word with a smile. "It's a... uhm, I'm not sure of the word for it in English, actually. Small black seeds that are sometimes used in baking?"

"I wonder what that man is doing right now." Franchesca wonder aloud, setting aside thoughts of Wolfgang's incredibly eccentric mentor for now to listen as best she could to the exchange between server and customer. She watched him attentively, as she always had, and nodded slowly at her lover's explanation.

"Poppy seeds?" Franchesca laughed.

"Well, there is one of two options when it comes to Dandelion. He's either sleeping off a hang-over, or on his way to his next hang-over." As if they'd just summoned Beetlejuice by saying his name too many times, a flutter of a sequined, purple scarf caught the lights in the dining hall and drew Wolfgang's eyes in their general direction.

"Yes, poppy seeds," he mumbled, though his attention was long diverted from the conversation at hand at focused instead on the man wearing a purple suit with a lime green tie. Around his neck was his scarf, reflecting lights like it was illuminated itself. The elder man's eyes connected with Wolfgang's and he prowled towards their table with a broad grin.

"Wolf! And the dearest Franchesca, I'm so glad you both could make it," Dandelion said, pulling a chair out at their table and sitting down. "You look at beautiful as ever, my dear, I hope the hotel is treating you both well?"

"It's lovely, thank you," Wolfgang remarked, sitting back just in time for the server to set down their food in front of them. A quick exchange in German and he was off again, shortly after filling up their coffee mugs.

"My, this looks nice," Dandelion continued, unraveling the spare set of silverware and not hesitating to reach across the table, using a fork to take a bite straight from Wolfgang's omelet. "And what do you have over there, my dear?"​

 

[Bears]

Franchesca turned, leaning on her arm which leaned on the back of the chair, to where Wolfgang's eyes landed and focused. Dandelion Medina was a sight, as always, and though she knew that a quiet little breakfast with Wolfie was no longer possible, she could not help but smile as he approached them with his scarf billowing in the wind after him.

Perhaps it was because of how perfect the night was before, or maybe it was because Germany was an absolute dream... either way she found herself nothing but grateful to the man that he had forced her into coming.

"Good morning Dandelion--it's been incredible." Franchesca added shortly after Wolfgang spoke up. Smiling, she watched as the mentor's fork dove for the the student's food but her expression quickly shifted as his eyes drifted towards her own.

"Baked bread with poppy seeds and if you think you are taking the first bite you are terribly mistaken, Dandelion." Franchesca shot quickly, her playful tone complimented by her lopsided smile. She tore a piece and hastily threw it into her mouth, finding it to be both pleasantly warm and incredibly fluffy. She swallowed and gave the both of them the green light if they wished to try.

"Banana bread with poppy seeds, actually." She added in passing, taking a small sip of her water.

"Mistaken? Ho, ho, ho, what a mouth this one has on her!" He threw his head back in a deep, roaring laugh. After taking her first bite, she conceded and Dandelion wasted no time in reaching his fork over and splitting off a chunk for himself. Stabbing it, he brought it to his mouth and nibbled delicately, like a hamster with some lettuce. "That is very pleasing indeed. Wolf, try some."

It wasn't so much a suggestion as a demand and Wolfgang could only smiled tiredly towards it. "I know what it tastes like," he argued, but the demanding glare passed by Dandelion had him give it up and use his fork to take the smallest of bites from Franchesca's plate before returning to his own meal. He never enjoyed sweets for breakfast, much.

"Now, my dear. I haven't forgotten your shopping excursion. I've been my assistant my personal credit card," he said with a smile. "Her name is Raya. Raya… something or other, I can never remember her last name. Anyways, that's her, over there," he explained, motioning towards the lone girl sitting in the nearby lobby.

Wolfgang glanced over to her. She was sitting in a lobby arm chair, one leg folded neatly over the other and her hands in her lap. Her tall frame and slender body were like that of a model. Her blue eyes, were calm and emotionless, staring off at the chandeliers in the lobby. Her hair hung loose around her cheeks, long and wavy blonde, so smooth and glossy, it looked like it was tailored from gold fabric.

"She looks like a real party." Franchesca commented perhaps a little too bluntly, as for the second time that morning, she turned to look over the back of her chair. When she turned back to face the other two men the table she chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure that we'll get along just fine. I like people who stand on their own and I'm sure she fits the bill considering well, her occupation."

"No offense, Dandy." Franchesca then said before deciding to quickly throw in one last bit because the last thing she wanted was to appear ungrateful. She cleared her throat and looked at him a little more directly. "I really am thankful though, for everything you've done for the both of us." She spoke not only in regards to his part in bringing her to Wolfgang, but also to the very fact that he had helped Wolfgang become the man that he was and the man that she had come to cherish oh so deeply.

"Wouldn't know," Dandelion replied. "Hired her because she's a piece of ass, to be honest. I'd hire you all the same, Franchesca. If it ever doesn't work out with you and Wolf, you know... I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two Wolf would never be able to," he said, giving her a sultry wink. His tone suggested he was kidding; the look on his face said otherwise.

The comment caused Wolfgang to sigh through a half-smile. "I'm sure you two will get on splendidly if you leave that biting wit here with me," he commented, shooting a glance to Franchesca; his smirk deepened and he shook his head at her. "But yes, thank you, Dandelion. As always."

"Hush, hush, hush I don't care for thanks," he replied dismissively, reaching over to take another generous portion from Wolfgang's breakfast. Who, by that point, just shoved his plate over towards his mentor. "I'm just thrilled you're both here. I'd like to ask you both something, while I have you here. How do you two feel... about a threesome?"

He pointedly stabbed the omelet with his fork, causing the porcelain plate to screech.

Franchesca snorted and choked, hardly an attractive combination, but a reaction fitting of the question that he threw at them like a verbal sucker punch. Coughing, Franchesca reached for her water before swallowing the piece of poppy banana bread that had gone astray. Her brown eyes came up to stare at Dandelion, and later Wolfgang, in disbelief. Whatever comments he had made about Raya or even herself were thrown to the wind.

Franchesca seemed content to let Wolfgang answer for the both of them but really it was only because she had no idea where to begin with her own.

Wolfgang had come to expect a certain level of inappropriateness when it came to Dandelion, but his most recent commentary had Wolfgang arching his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" he asked, unsure if he'd heard correctly. Once Dandelion repeated himself, confirming when he first believed, Wolfgang could only shake his head in disbelief.

"I don't think..." but the professor was left scrambling to find words. He hummed for just a moment, his eyebrows going from crinkling upward into his forehead, to furrowing down. "I don't think that's... no, Dandelion, I don't think a threesome is..."

"Oh, come now," Dandelion purred. "Open up a little, Wolf. Stop being such a prude. Franchesca would be involved, it wouldn't just be you and me."

This caused Wolfgang to cough, swiping his hand down the lower half of his face. "I just... no, Dandelion. No."

Franchesca began to laugh, nearly uncontrollably, and she barely had time to swipe her plate to the side before her head thud against the surface of the table. She clutched her stomach, cheeks having long grown warm and red with goodhearted embarrassment so it didn't even matter to her when she sat up to learn that their table was drawing gazes. Her hand reached out and grasped Wolfgang's from across the way, squeezing the familiar surface of his palm and fingers before turning to Dandelion and shaking her head.

"Wolfgang makes me very happy, Dandy. I'm sorry but it's a no from me as well." Franchesca smiled, only offering the mentor a small little pat on the shoulder as his consolation price. Her smile shifted into a smirk and she was quick to add her own bit of humor into it all. "Plus I'd be absolutely cross with jealousy at seeing Wolfie here kiss anyone other than me."

Dandelion wore a dangerous little twinkle in his eye. He was planning something, Wolfgang didn't like it, but he didn't know what it could be.

"I have a feeling you'll both change your mind in time," he declared, "I'll be able to convince the both of you in no time. With a pop of Viagara, I am sure I can keep up with the likes of both of you. You should see all the freaky things I can do." Dandelion took the rejection with grace and confidence, and it was clear in the way he smiled, his brow entrenched in heavy wrinkls, that was assured. "Monogamy is the enemy of love, my dear. Learn to explore, but marry him, and swing."

Wolfgang dropped his head fully into his hand, covering his face with his fingers and swallowing down some sort of noise that was in the middle of a chuckle and a mortified groan. His cheeks burned with a horrible heat and the mini bar back in the hotel room was starting to sound more and more appetizing. Perhaps, with enough alcohol, he could drown out the memories of being asked for a threesome with his mentor.

Franchesca giggled again because she could not help it. Embarrassing situations brought on laughter and this was the epitome of embarrassment. Franchesca shifted in her seat at the mention of marriage however, her posture not entirely uncomfortable but growing a little more guarded at the thought. Regardless, her hand remained tangled in his.

"Wolfie and I still have a lot of exploring to do with one another and I think I'm content with taking our time." Franchesca smiled, pausing to take one look at the man across from her who made her entire chest flutter at the thought. "It hasn't even been twenty four hours since we..."

Franchesca drifted off once she realized that the last thing Dandelion needed was more fuel to the fire of this idea of his.

"I think this has gone a little far for now, Dandelion." Just like that, Wolfgang put an end to the conversation at hand. Like Franchesca, he'd grown uncomfortable and while h knew Dandelion had only the best of intentions, intentions meant decidedly little in their situation. Shaking his head and shifting his eyes down at his coffee cup, listening to Franchesca's take on the matter. Naturally, she used a softer hand with Dandelion and he seemed to respond a bit better to her explanation than his demand.

Dandelion chuckled. "Oh, my dear." He reached over and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Behind his thick, groomed moustache was a smile. "You're so wise for being… how old are you? Fifteen?"

"God damnit, Dandelion…" Wolfgang interjected again, this time with a partial smile. He gave Franchesca's hand a small squeeze. Dandelion replied with a feisty grin wizening his features and creating deep lines into his cheeks. He didn't need to ask what Wolfgang was scolding him for; he already knew.

"Alright, alright," he mused, waving a hand and sitting back. "Franchesca, dear, why don't you go run along with my Raya for a while?" Dandelion laced his fingers over his potbelly. "And make sure you get something a little extra for Wolf, if you know what I mean."

Though she didn't show it, the idea of something extra was a great one and one that she was totally willing to follow through. It was, after all, Dandelion's money and it'd be rude of her to disregard the man completely. Even if he could be a complete lech. Nodding politely at the mentor's send off, Franchesca's gaze turned to Wolfgang once more and she smiled. "I'll see you tonight, my heart." She cooed as if no one was around but them.

Almost reluctantly her hand drifted away from his warmth. Franchesca stood, gathering her things, before wishing Dandelion a small farewell and turning for the lobby. As embarrassing as breakfast had been, Franchesca's excitement was at a all time high.

Germany was shaping up to be quite the chapter in her life.​

 

[Nav]

Raya stood as Franchesca approached. Her long, narrow legs so thin it seemed like they might have snapped with too much weight, or been unable to hold her up in a strong breeze. She put on something of a smile, though it was refrained and more straight across rather than the typical upward curve. She was trying to avoid wrinkles, and at the ripe age of twenty five, all her hard work seemed to be paying off. Her dewy skin was glossy and warm looking, with the right hint of blush and not so much as a pore to be seen on any of planes.

"Franchesca, right?" Raya asked as they came within talking distance of each other. She jutted out a manicured hand, which caused her charm bracelets to clink and clatter with the movement. "Raya. I'm also American… California, actually. Dandelion was telling me a bit about you on our way over from France," she explained, in a plainly southern Cali accent. If she had gum in her mouth, she probably would have popped it, but she did shift her designer handbag up on to her shoulder.

"I got a car for us, though I didn't know. Are you more of a Louis girl? Or a Prada girl? They have stores for both downtown, but I wasn't sure which you preferred," Raya went on, spinning on a heel and leading the way through the rotating doors of the hotel. The city was, somehow, even more romantic in the morning light. The ancient buildings cowered close together, with narrow passageways between them. The old slab stone pavement gave a rich sandy hue to the otherwise grey city. The wooden street signs hanging from buildings marking shops popped with colour in blues, reds, and oranges.

Out front parked a simple black town car, with a gentleman waiting for the two of them. His hands were clasped in front of himself, and he greeted them warmly in German, ushering them towards the car and popping open the back door for them both to get in. Raya slid in first, moving over for Franchesca to join her.

"So, I figured we'd start at Prada, and afterwards, get a little lunch. You definitely need some new shoes to go with your gown you pick out, so, we'll find something for that after lunch, if they don't have anything you'd like at Prada." She hummed, tapping a finger against her pink lower lip. "Then, I'd like to go to a lingere store. I need something new, myself. If I'm going to seduce an old rich man, I need the goods to do it in."

Raya cocked her ocean blue eyes towards Franchesca, glancing her over. "You're pretty lucky. You're with Wolfgang, right? You got one of the young, and tolerably good looking ones. I'm going to get stuck with Dandelion… or Arlo. Ah, the things I will fuck for Prada."​

 

[Bears]

Franchesca refrained from looking back as she walked away from the table. The next time she wanted to meet Wolfgang's gaze, she wanted it to be behind a fox mask. As crazy and inappropriate and terrible as Dandelion was, the man was that of many ideas and incredible generosity, and if it was his wish to make Wolfgang happy she would gladly make him proud. So her eyes remained forward and they stayed there even as Raya turned and acknowledged her approach. There was an air about the woman that seemed intimidating but that probably had something to do with her looking like she hopped straight out of a magazine.

"That's me. It's nice to meet you, Raya." Franchesca answered plainly, taken aback but adjusting rather quickly to the accent that the other woman spoke with. Franchesca had expected to listen to German and German accents for the entirety of the trip, so if there was anything about Raya that she was thankful so far it was proving her wrong in that aspect. Proper American accents were far too rare, Franchesca having only found it in Thomas beforehand.

Franchesca followed after the other woman, laughing sheepishly at her question about designer brands. "Can I answer neither? Because my answer is neither. I've never had the uh... money to figure out anyways." The young woman followed the hot blonde out into the city and could barely keep up. Her eyes were drawn to the city, to the romance of it all, and of course the images she would have loved to capture with a canvas and some oils.

Before she knew it, Franchesca was in the back of her car, nodding as if she completely understood everything that came out of Raya's pretty little mouth. Something something about lingerie and lunch.

It was only when Wolfgang was mentioned did Franchesca really check into the conversation. The dark haired woman turned over, once again taking a moment to adjust, but this time it was due to Raya's brazenness rather than accent. "I'm lucky to have him." Franchesca replied with a small nod.

She cracked a grin, not entirely lopsided but it was getting there. "Arlo?"​

 

[Nav]

Raya's perfectly manicured eyebrows, waxed to the perfect shape and dyed a shade of honey to better pronounce them on her forehead rose just barely. Not enough to make a seam in her brow, but it got her point across well enough. Her eyes worked up and down Franchesca's form, taking in the frumpy attire the woman wore. At first, Raya thought it had been her pajamas, but when she realized they weren't, she exhaled a hot puff of air from her nose with a playful smirk. "Oh honey," she mused. "We'll be getting all dolled up then. We can't have you looking like Lili Taylor, now can we?"

Waving her hand between the driver and passengers seats up before them, Raya leaned forward and spoke to the driver, directing him to their destination. When she returned to her seat, one leg folding over the other at the thigh, she returned her settled gaze on to Franchesca. "Hair, nails… those talons look like they could use a few days worth of files." Raya tapped her own nails against the point of her knee. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what we can do with you in such a short amount of time."

Raya spoke like Franchesca came in with dreads and months worth of grime covering her, but to Raya, she might as well have. Everything about the blonde was groomed and likely artificial, even her nose. She did have a nice smile though, when it softened just the right amount to make it come off as less of a snarl. "Yea," she mused, "Arlo van Venderbug… he's a famous sculptor from some third world country, or something. He's incredibly famous, and incredibly wealthy, but only got into art after he made his billions in the resort industry. He was one of the pioneers of all-inclusive resorts in the Carribean."

Raya tucked a section of her hair behind her ear and bit the edge of her lip as they rounded a bend. The car rolled into downtown and slowly came to a halt. The side of town they were on was clearly the wealthy side of town. Handsome, expensive cars darted through the streets and those seen walking on the pavement were in luxurious attire, clutching all matters of Coach, Prada, and Louis Vuitton. Men were handsome in their polished black business suits, and women of all ages stunning in their sun dresses and pantsuits.

The driver put the car in park and came around to each side of the vehicle, opening the doors for the women. "Thanks," Raya mentioned off-handedly as she slid from the back of the car. "Alright, come on, dear. We need to do some shopping."

Stepping across the walkway, Raya helped herself inside the illustrious all-glass storefront. The racks were not teeming with articles of clothing, instead opting for a more simplistic style—only a few of each item available, and all in small, or extra small, sizes, and nothing with a price tag under a few thousand dollars.​

 

[Bears]

Personally, Franchesca felt like she was decently put together. But considering how every little thing about Raya seemed detailed and intentional, right down to the fact the color of her manicured nails complimenting her bright eyes, Franchesca supposed it was only natural that she would seem a little rough around the edges in comparison.

The blonde's gaze and inflection was telling and as Franchesca looked down at the clothes she had put on twice this morning thanks to Wolfgang, her cheeks hinted at embarrassment. Were they in any other situation, Franchesca might've been a little more offended by Raya's comments, but it quickly became apparent as they drove further and further into the city that where they were headed--Franchesca was criminally under dressed.

The young woman only nodded at Raya's explanation regarding Arlo because her eyes and attention remained mostly on the shifting scenery. It felt like a movie with so many beautiful and expensively dressed people just living life in a city that looked like it came out of a painting. Wolfgang made it a little easier when he was around for Franchesca to not be overwhelmed, but this was something else entirely.

The car came to a park and Franchesca remained a little wide-eyed as Raya motioned for her to follow after her.

They stepped out onto the stone streets, surrounded by people and storefronts that screamed refinement and chic. Franchesca straightened her shirt out and while it ultimately did very little to make her fit in a little better, it gave something for her anxious hands to do. Raya walked way too fast for a woman with heels as thin and high as hers were but Franchesca kept up.

They stepped into a boutique that seemed to pride itself on the its rosy color tones that remained prevalent in the decor. It also smelled faintly of roses and Franchesca wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out the German sign above the canopy meant something related to the flower. At first, Franchesca remained by Raya's side like the timid new girl, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at every gorgeous dress that the blonde picked up but eventually she began to wander off on her own, perusing the racks and asking attendants questions.

The prices were downright absurd and Franchesca was just so grateful to be in the position that she was in, under dressed and all. A while later Franchesca returned to Raya, curious as to what Dandelion's assistant would have her dress in. "So about my hair and nails or whatever... does that happen here or are we going somewhere else?" She asked the blonde, sheepish but growing more and more acclimated by the half hour.

Her eyes landed pointedly on the series of dresses in the woman's arms. She paused and tilted her head in thought. "That's... alot don't you think Raya?"​

 

[Nav]

Though by no means warm, Raya seemed friendly enough. Her gaze was judging of Franchesca, but not hostile. If anything, the woman appeared almost confused by Franchesca's appearance, and her mingling with the other artists. The artists themselves were either extremely well put-together and handsomely clipped and dressed, like Wolfgang, or they were so outlandishly eccentric they sometimes looked alien, like Dandelion. Franchesca, in her eyes, seemed so… plain. Classically beautiful with her dark hair and strong features, but plain. It'd been a long time since Raya last saw anyone in nothing but a plain T-shirt and jeans.

By the time they arrived at the store, Raya seemed content to allow Franchesca to follow her. She shopped for the woman's features—dark hair, creamy complexion, as well as for herself, with her juxtaposed lighter hair, and lighter complexion. Without a glance at price tags, she threw things across her arms until a point when an employee came over to gather her things for her and take them to the fitting room, allowing her to continue to shop unhindered. The only thing causing her pause in her spree was Franchesca.

Blue eyes shot back over her shoulder, her hands still resting between garments on a rack. "Hmm?" she purred, her eyelashes fluttering. "Silly, this isn't a salon," she said, peeling her hands off the five-thousand-dollar dress to gesture around the store. "We're going to go to a salon to get our hair, nails, and makeup done. Aww, you're just so cute," she murmured. Her tone was genuine, looking at Franchesca like a Bambi-esq baby sister who didn't know any better, and would quickly learn under her guiding, and fabulous, wing.

"And this little pile?" Raya patted the four new dresses in her arms. "No, it's nothing, dear. I have a lot more already ready for us in the fitting room. Did you find anything else you want to try on? I think I found you quite a few dresses that would work with your winter," she explained, eyeing the younger woman up with a squinting eye. "Yea, you're definitely a winter. No doubt about it. Once we—" because Franchesca couldn't pick out a dress herself, "pick out your dress, we'll find shoes to match."

Raya's eyes ghosted over Franchesca choice of footwear. "No flats."

Turning so briskly on a heel she could have given herself whiplash, Raya herded them along towards the fitting room, pausing at the threshold to turn back to the other woman. "So, try everything on but you're not allowed to take it off until I see it." Her requests were not to be questioned, judging by the demanding inflection in her tone. "I have to make sure you'll look your best, you know." She tapped the plush bottom lip, giving Franchesca another once over. "I'm also thinking red for your nails. Hmm, anyways…" Again, she turned back, motioning for Franchesca's dressing room.

"Remember, show me everything."​

 

[Nav]

Raya was a force of nature, not unlike Franchesca and the latter respected the blonde for that. It was a little embarrassing to be called cute the way that Raya had and color found the dark haired woman's cheeks more freely at her mistake. Whatever bashfulness she might've felt was washed over by a moment of concern when the blonde mentioned the dressing room.

Franchesca enjoyed fashion but only to an extent. She certainly wasn't the type to try on piles and piles of different clothes. Still, this was for her benefit and the only thing more insane than the prices was the fact that she didn't have to pay any of the. Franchesca was grateful and knowing Wolfgang would be too later that evening was enough to motivate her and bring the hint of a playful smirk to her face.

"What do you mean by a winter?" Franchesca asked plainly as they cut through the store. They arrived at the dressing room which was separated by an opaque white curtain. The dark haired woman slid it open and was greeted by her reflection in a warmly lit roof to floor mirror. In that mirror her eyes remained on the blonde as she spoke. The instructions were simple enough and with a nod Franchesca stepped inside.

There the alluded pile awaited and Franchesca took her time sorting through which one to try first. This... was going to be a process.

Her first choice was a black sheer dress that collared her neck but left both her legs, shoulders and arms exposed. It was beautiful but as Franchesca looked at herself in the mirror she began to question. She turned, sliding the curtain open for the first time that day and looked at the blonde sheepishly.

"This... is not enough dress, I think."

"You know, winter... god, you're so precious, babe. Fashion is split into seasons, you know, and your skin tone and hair colour goes best with winter fashion, winter colours. Like, I'm blonde and light skinned so I go well with spring: baby pinks and blues and stuff. You'd look like an Easter egg in spring colours." She crinkled her nose at the thought though it didn't last long; she couldn't risk the wrinkles.

As they separated into their unique dressing rooms, Raya pulled on a stunning light green full length gown that laced up the slender column of her neck and left her back and the space between her breasts exposed with plunging lines of fabric. She stepped out only a few moments after Franchesca had, looking the other woman up and down once before turning to look at herself in the full length mirror.

"I don't like this shade of green," she admitted, flipping some hair over her shoulder. Her attentions homed in on Franchesca, considering the dress for a moment by tapping her finger against her lips. "It makes your boobs look weird," she mentioned. "You got to show those things off, not make them look like wrestling puppies in a sack. Okay, next."

Franchesca snorted lightly at the comment, her eyes glancing down to determine for herself if her breasts did indeed look like Raya had said. With a tilt of her head she could see where the other woman was coming from and Franchesca looked back up with a small nod.

No to the sheer black dress.

Her brown eyes fell over Raya once more before she turned back to the dressing room and in agreement Franchesca called out from behind the curtain. "The back looks incredible but there are better colors, I'm sure."

Speaking of color, Franchesca undid the makings of her black dress and was immediately drawn to something a little less harsh. It was a gown, rosy but not entirely pink, that hung where her neck met shoulders. The neck line plunged at the center, diving between the curves of her breasts and stopping just before her stomach.

Franchesca took a moment to admire the flow of the dress in the mirror before stepping back out into the hallway first this time around. "How's it going in there?" Franchesca grinned.

Raya was the type of woman who could have looked good in a potato sack and still had the boys after her, but when she stepped out in the baby blue gown that was clearly two or three sizes too big for her tiny waist, but still nearly popping a seam at her bust, she laughed at her reflection. "O-m-g," she stated, "this is horrific! Look at me. I'm hideous. Ugh."

She did another few turns in the mirror, nearly frowning but never committing to curving her cheeks. After, she finally glanced to Franchesca. "That looks nicer," she mentioned. "I love the colour on you and your boobs look, like... so good."

Franchesca tilted her head with amusement painting her face. Raya looked gorgeous, even in that horrible, horrible choice of blue. Still, figuring the blonde was hardly the type to be easily convinced otherwise, the dark haired woman played along. "Maybe try a red? I know that's hardly a spring color but a red dress is always sexy."

When the conversation rounded back to her she smiled at the compliment, perking up her boobs with her hands as she contemplated. "It's a gorgeous dress but I think I want to go with something just a little bit more fierce? I guess? I have no idea if that makes sense."

"Yea, red may be good," she agreed thoughtfully. "I picked one up, I'll try it next." Very much ready to get out of the abomination, she whisked into her dressing room, calling over the dividing wall.

"Yes, fierce. I grabbed you something with a huge leg slit. Maybe try that one?" She suggested, working her way out of the oversized baggy dress and into her skintight red number with a plunging back and a slit up the side to her hip.

Franchesca hung the plunging rosy dress on a hook separate from the others. It wasn't exactly what she was looking for, she wanted a dress that would make Wolfgang's blood run hot after all, but it was still a gorgeous piece. She made a noise of acknowledgement at Raya's suggestion, running through her options until she found a black gown that simply had to be the one the other woman was talking about.

It took Franchesca longer getting into the third dress than any of the others. It wasn't sheer, not quite, but her skin could be seen through the fabric. The details of the dress, these strong black outlines accentuated her curves and hid all the important points. The structure of the dress was almost corset-like, clinging onto her form and leaving very little to the imagination from the waist up. Franchesca was certain her breasts, which were more exposed than they had ever been in clothing, would fall out.

But still, with a slit that ran just short of her hip the dress was undeniably sexy and perhaps exactly what she was looking for. Franchesca could only hope that Raya would approve.

Sliding the curtain once more Franchesca stepped back out, her stride slowed by the grip of the dress but made all the more sensual. "How does it look?"

Raya stepped out of her dressing room, blonde hair fluttering out behind her as she did. In her typical fashion, she paused to look herself over first. Her hands slid down the bulbous curve of her hips, admiring her impossibly small waist and the perkiness of her chest in the red fabric. Not a singe vertabrea of her spine was left a mystery in the number and, arching up on her tippy toes to give the illusion of heels, she smiled at herself— in love with the image she saw looking back.

"Huh?" She stirred, having forgotten Franchesca was there at all. She turned to face the other woman, raising a slender brow. "That looks sexy," she said almost immediately. The dress required no moment of thought. "I have a coat you should try on, actually. Fur..." she stepped into her dressing room and pulling the thick, fluffy coat from its hangar and handed out to the other woman.

"Try quick, bitch," Raya said with a flash of her perfect line of front teeth.

Franchesca watched Raya at work. She watched the blonde flaunt her stuff in an incredibly hot red dress, her own expression somewhere between impressed and intimidated. The blonde didn't see it but as she turned to retrieve the coat Franchesca imitated the faux-heel pose in the mirror.

The fur coat was white, large, and absolutely dramatic. When Raya called Franchesca bitch, the blonde caught the other woman off guard for the third time that day. She was beginning to see some similarities between Raya and her boss. They were both brazen as hell.

With a playful smile, Franchesca snatched the coat and wasted no time slipping it on. She put it only fully and turned towards the mirror. Franchesca did not pose, but she did a run through her usual stance. There was something off, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

But then Franchesca realized and let the fur slouch, exposing her shoulders, chest and back once more as she let the coat pool just above her shoulders. Franchesca did a little twirl and felt just a little bit silly for it as she turned back to Raya.

"Fuck." Franchesca laughed. "We look good."

"Mm, yea, way better on you," Raya commented. Franchesca had some height on herself, so she looked like she was conquering the coat instead of drowning in it. "That looks so hot."

She turned back to the mirror and admired, squinting what she saw and admiring each inch of each garment, looking for flaws. When she decided there was none, she flicked her hair.

"All we need now is a fierce makeover and some stilettos. No wedge heels for us." Raya had already decided Franchesca's fate and no amount of whining or other wishes would change the blonde's mind. Swaying into her dressing room, Raya disappeared to undress.

Now Franchesca prided herself on her ability to run on her high heeled boots. The points were rather thin, but they were far from stilettos. Succumbing to her fate, Franchesca just shook her head and smiled before retiring to undress herself.

Raya had prepared an unholy amount of dresses but Franchesca was lucky enough to find the one on the third try. She considered for a moment a selfish thought and hoped that she might be able to have both the black and rosy dress but decided against it.

They were stopping by the lingerie store after all

When Franchesca stepped out she was back in her jeans and t-shirt, her plain simple look that made her stand out among all the refinery and expense of this part of town. She turned to find Raya back in the main hall of the store, the blonde fast to peruse the ledges of expensive heels that lined the wall. Franchesca approached almost cautiously.

"You could pay my entire tuition with one shelf." She noted with a lopsided smile. "Working for Dandelion has its perks, I see."

"Yes, it does," she agreed as she came back out in her original outfit, the red dress thrown over her arm. She shoved it into the hands of a passing employee, telling the poor woman to keep it up at the front until they checked out.

Raya was about to go on her way to the shoe department when she paused suddenly, whirling her head back to Franchesca. "What did you say?" She asked, that brow creeping up her face again. "About tuition? Are you, like, a student or something?" The woman licked the edge of her pink lipstick lip, a smirk betraying her and forming a small line in her cheek.

"Don't tell me... you're one of Wolgang's student? That's naughty, bitch."

She continued on after the realisation was made, heading towards the shoe and accessory section. "Yes, it has its perks, definitely. Hook up with the old and wealthy. That's the secret."

"I may or may not be one of his students." Franchesca mused lightly, though the smile on her face was more of an answer than anything. She picked up a pair of heels and poked herself lightly with the amazingly tiny point. She looked up at Raya, not so surprised that they were indeed hooking up.

"Is Dandelion as good in bed as he thinks he is or?" She asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she returned the heels shortly afterwards. Considering her dress and the fur coat, she needed something a little more classic. "This morning he tried to convince Wolfie and I to have a threesome with him--something about all the naughty things he could do blah blah blah."

"He's... kinky," she admitted out loud as they strolled around the wall of shoes. "He's into weird things but it's... you know, it's good." She admitted, shrugging as she picked up a stiletto that had a heel the length of a pencil, flipping it around and looking at it before handing it out towards Franchesca to try on.

"What about Wolfgang? Any good, or just with him for the money? You can tell me, I won't say a word." She picked up another shoe and settled on to the small bench to try it on. It slipped onto her foot like she was Cinderella and she stood, gazing at herself in the mirror. It lengthened her body and tightened her butt, and she liked it.

For a second Franchesca eyed the shoe with distrust. Not distrust towards Raya, but rather distrust towards her ability to balance on such a thin heel. She took it anyways, taking a seat on the little plush bench besides the blonde and kicking off her own shoes before answering her question swiftly.

"I'm with Wolfgang because he's... him." She said with a small smile, her hands slipping the black stilettos on slowly. There was nothing cheap or sleazy about their connection but Franchesca felt very little need to go into detail. Well, not too much detail anyways.

"He makes me happy in bed and out."

Franchesca paused to watch Raya feel out the latest pair of shoes she grabbed. The dark haired woman nodded in approval before motioning to her feet which remained firmly planted on the ground.

"You don't expect me to actually walk in these right? They'll snap. I have literally zero doubts."

"Ugh, that's so sappy. Are you being for real right now? No, no, no one finds love and money rolled into one man. That breaks the system, it's impossible." Her hands were on her butt, testing the firmness of the muscles in the shoes that put an extra three inches on her crown height. She was bound to tower over Dandelion, but it was clear she was shopping for herself, and not him. Plus, he was bound to love her in everything, or nothing at all.

Kicking the shoes off and leaving them were they fell, she snatched another pair from the wall in her size like a kid on Christmas morning, opening all of her presents and caring about none.

"Dandelion cares about me, I guess. He's been trying to get me to marry him. Maybe I should. Get it over with," she mused, turning in front of the mirror.

Her eyes were only pulled away from her own image by Franchesca's question. "Uh... yes, sweetheart, you're wearing heels. You can't argue, I have the credit card. I'm surprised you don't have one. All the sugar babies to the men at the gala do. God, you're breaking the system. Stop it, before Dandelion gets any ideas. Huh. We're mistresses for the plastic and gifts."

Franchesca snorted lightly knowing that she was being completely real. Wolfgang could lose everything tomorrow and she would care for him just the same and maybe that was love but Franchesca could not know for sure.

Surprise found Franchesca once more at the mentioning of marriage. Dandelion hardly seemed the type but then again he had just recommended the same thing and swinging to her and Wolfgang this morning. "Obviously, I don't know your relationship but I feel like marriage shouldn't be done on a 'get it over with' attitude." She advised in passing, cursing under her breath a moment later as she pushed herself to a stand.

Franchesca wobbled, oh she wobbled. Her curses grew louder by the second as her arms extended out in hopes of helping her find balance. She nearly fell twice before finally steadying herself, but even then she did not dare to take a step.

"Wolfgang isn't my sugar daddy." Franchesca added with a breath, looking up from her heels and back towards Raya. She shook her head. "And I am no one's mistress."

"Listen," Raya said, turning her eyes to her shopping companion. "You're cute and all with your wistful sighing and batting eyelashes, but girl, I have a quality of life I enjoy and... this is it. She rolled her wrist as she explained, rattling the little charm bracelets tied off there. "Some people do things for love, some people do things for practicality... and purses."

She stood up and again admired herself, and her ass, in the mirror. Raya would love no one more than she loved herself and, truthfully, she didn't want to. She glanced back when Franchesca wobbled, clattering for balance with all the grace of a newborn horse. She shook her head. "Tighten your butt," she explained. "And stop looking like a football player. Be at least a little proud of our gender." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

Franchesca managed to get her disorganized limbs under control a moment later and Raya smiled, or at least as much as Raya ever smiled. "Good for you, honey." She shuttled her glance to the shoes. "Those look hot on you. What do you think? I think you'll be fine with some practice. You are not going to wear flats or wedges with that dress. I won't allow you to ruin a perfectly good dress with those."

Franchesca was a romanticist and Raya deemed herself practical, and the former had no intention try and push an unwanted narrative any further. Raya was as sure of herself as Franchesca was and that was why the dark haired woman had grown to respect the blonde so quickly.

Though, being the tortured romantic that she was, it wouldn't stop Franchesca from hoping that the fact both Raya and Dandelion were the most brazen people she's ever met meant something.

Franchesca knew the blonde had been exaggerating earlier, sure she was far from Sabine-levels of femininity, but she was far from a tomboy. The young woman turned, taking a look at herself in the mirror and how the shoes elongated her legs. She imagined herself in the dress waiting for them at the counter, with these shoes on and a fox mask resting before her eyes and Franchesca agreed.

Wolfgang wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her.

"I'm liking it, a lot actually. Though that might have something to do with the fact that I haven't actually tried walking." Franchesca mused lightly, glancing Raya's way before extending a hand in her direction. "Help me?"

Raya turned her head towards Franchesca, smirking slightly as the woman inspected herself in the mirror with something of an approving glance. Franchesca looked beautiful, even Raya couldn't argue that and, truthfully, she had no reason to even try to. Raya was confident to the point where another woman couldn't be able to threaten her own ego, no matter how beautiful.

If anything, she looked at Franchesca with a bit of over-inflated pride. After all, the woman had come in nothing but jeans and a plain white T… and look at the work she performed. In Raya's eyes, Franchesca slow transformation was nothing short of a miracle. A manicured hand shot out and lightly slid underneath Franchesca's waiting hand.

"Come on," she coaxed with a smirk. "It's not that hard. The trick is to put some of your weight slightly back. I know it's counterintuitive, but just try it."​

 

[Bears]

Franchesca acknowledged the woman's advice with a slow nod. These heels were far different from the ones underneath her boots. Holding on tightly to Raya she took the first step forward, pressing her weight back despite how uncomfortable it felt to do that. "Fuck." She muttered with a small grin.

Her legs wobbled from unfamiliarity but it was working and she hadn't fallen. As her strides grew a little more steady, a little more confident she repeated herself with a warm laugh.

"Starting to get it?" Raya asked, letting Franchesca go on her own. "They're only heels. It's, like, in our blood or something." The blonde flipped some of her hair over her shoulder when it trickled forward. "Look at you go. Unleash your inner goddess, or something. So, what do you think? Those the pair or...?"

"They might as well be. Any thinner or higher and I'm going to make a fool of myself during the masquerade." Franchesca nodded, standing on her own. There was a little wobble but it was clear the dark haired woman was taking to it. As flawed as it was to think that it was in their blood, Franchesca was proving Raya right. "I mean--who doesn't love a classic black stiletto?"

"Mmmhm, so...?" she echoed, impatient for a more entire answer. "Those the ones? Great, why don't you take them off and we can get this show on the road. We still have a lingerie store and a salon to hit up, and lunch. Things to do, people to see, get into your flats and let's go already."

ranchesca nodded a little more eagerly than usual. The entire trip to Germany was a little dizzying, a little surreal and everyone she traveled with seemed so adjusted to it all. Maybe this was what she ought to expect from a future in the high stakes art community--expensive dresses and salon visits.

But then again she wanted to be the artist, not the eye candy on his arm. It was a troubling thought that came to her but for the sake of today Franchesca set it aside. The dark haired woman sat down and unstrapped herself, slipping into her flats and carrying the black heels over to the counter with Raya.

There they paid with Dandelion's card and the blonde made arrangements for Franchesca's dress to be delivered to Hyatt.

"So what's next? Salon or lingerie?" The young woman asked lightly as they stepped back out into the city. It was busier now that the morning had had its time.

"Mmm, lingerie, I guess," replied Raya as she stepped out into the sunbaked sidewalk, sliding Dandelion's credit card back into her clutch, with her arm slid through the plastic handles of her bag. She quickly passed the bag off to the driver, who still held the car parked right out front. He swung the door open, and Raya slid right in, scooting over for Franchesca.

"I can't go lingerie shopping in full face and hair. That could ruin it... putting things on and off." God forbid a single strand ever escaped whatever hairdo those gorgeous, honey blonde locks would be twisted back into, or a smudge of eyeliner over her temple.

She couldn't have it. She wouldn't have it. Speaking her expectations to the driver, Raya sat back and crossed her legs. "I'm starting to feel a little peckish, too."

That... makes sense." Franchesca replied with a tinge of embarrassment finding her expression. If it wasn't clear enough she was out of her element. She slipped into the car and quickly after they were off. Whizzing through streets slowly beginning to crowd with faces made and unmade. Regardless, everyone looked put together and it wasn't long until they arrived at their second destination.

Though they were stepping out and towards a rather classy lingerie store, Franchesca could also feel the hint of hunger reside within her. Breakfast was great and all but rather small compared to her aunt's hefty Italian servings.

"This is probably not going to surprise you in the slightest considering the last store," Franchesca began as her eyes traced over the German name pinned above the storefront in striking black text. "But I've never actually worn lingerie either. Sure, maybe some lace but never full out... you know."

They stepped inside and just like the boutique, the store was remarkable classy with its glossy marble floors and white lighting. Everything was highlighted against black accents, the colors of lace, silk and satin popping in contrast. Her eyes moved all across the room. It was beautiful, daunting and a lot like her companion in that regard.

"Whoa." She breathed.

The length of the drive, Raya spent inspecting her nails, flicking invisible particles of dirt out from underneath the varnished nail beds, squinting intently as she did so. She didn't seem completely content when they rolled to a stop, but the doors were opened by the driver and she was forced to abandon her project to slide out.

She marched her way in her heels across the sidewalk into the store. The boutique was developed for beautiful, thin women. All the sizes were impossibly tiny, and every article incredibly revealing.

Raya's petite hands fluttered to the racks, sliding things this way and that as she looked them all over, pausing only to lift her eyes as a saleswoman approached them. A quick and curt 'no thank you,' to help allowed her to return to what she was doing.

"And no frumpy underwear," she announced, her comment clearly directed to Franchesca, though she never bothered to look up from the silk and lace currently tangled up in her hands. "We're not wearing flats, wedges, or grandma panties."

"Hey now. I'm not saying I don't have a few matching sets tucked away for... well, special occasions, its just nothing of this caliber." Franchesca laughed softly, pulling out a rather eccentric looking piece from the line as she spoke. Though it seemed like a full thing it lacked any coverage at the top. She wondered if there was a separate bra somewhere before it occurred to her what these two seemingly superfluous bits were for.

Still, she couldn't help but ask. "Are these supposed to go on your nipples?

That caused Raya to look up for the first time. Her eyebrows arching ever-so casually. "No," she replied, "they're supposed to go on your big toes. What do you think they're supposed to be for?"

Her eyes rolled and she returned to whatever it was she was doing, flipping through garment after garment, pausing to inspect a few. "You have so much to learn."

"I've kind of been going for the whole struggling artist vibe, so yeah. A lot to learn." Franchesca noted casually as she returned the garment and its nipple pasties back onto the rack. She walked a little further down the aisle, but stayed close enough that Raya could hear her next question.

"How long ago was it when you were like me?" She asked. Perhaps it was a little invasive but if Franchesca was going to be mentored in some regard, she would like to know more about who was doing it. Franchesca pulled out a sheer, form fitting gown and turned to face the blonde fully. "Also--opinions?"

"When I was like you?" Raya questioned skeptically, "like? A struggling artist, or like, poorly dressed? Oh well, the answer to both of those would be neither. I'm not an artist. I don't even really like art that much, if I were being honest." She kept flipping.

"My dad was a curator for art museums though, which is how I got into it to begin with. Dad isn't real happy I'm with Dandelion, but... dad's broke and my daddy isn't, so..." she trailed off and gave a shrug, looking up. "That's cute."

"I meant how long ago was it that you had to learn the ropes." Franchesca corrected though she didn't speak harshly or apologetically, indeed she spoke in the same tone as Raya's judgement of her clothes. Plain.

Nodding, Franchesca held the black piece aside as she continued searching through all her options. As new as it was to her it was nice to just shop without worry all the same. She picked out a bikini set and matching pair of stockings before continuing her impromptu line of questioning.

"How did you meet Dandy anyways?"

"Ropes of what?" she asked back, still not sure what Franchesca was getting at. She pulled a sleek matching set from the rack and held it up, looking it over, before holding it to herself and inspecting down on it.

"Dandelion? Oh," she mused, nearly cracking a smirk. "I met him a while back. Back when Wolfgang was still blonde, for that matter. Anyways, I was like... sixteen, or something, and he had a gallery thing at the museum my dad worked for. We ran off together when I turned eighteen and it's been like this ever since."

"The whole... sugar baby thing." Franchesca responded, turning to watch Raya press a pair against her impossibly model frame before finding herself smiling at her story. There was probably a lot more unsaid kinkiness and issue than what Raya was letting on but the dark haired woman felt no need to pry. The blonde made sure to get it across that she was content with the way things were.

"Oh, oh..." This caused Raya serious pause, her hands, which hadn't stopped moving since they entered the store, fell eerily silent for the first time. "I'm not good at anything else. I flunked out of highschool, I have no real talents besides look beautiful and fabulous all the time.... so, what do you do when you're this hot and need a certain lifestyle, but, like, you don't want to work?"

"You do what you have to do. I get that." Franchesca nodded, careful to not show the caution she felt in her tone. The way Raya stopped all shopping endeavors to answer the question required such thought. The dark haired woman cleared her throat. Up until that point Raya seemed so confident and Franchesca could not help but wonder if the blonde would keep catching her off guard for the rest of the day.

"Do you enjoy anything else besides shopping and looking great?"

"I mean, yea, I like to shop more. I love to brunch, and day drink," she mused, collecting the garment she'd put over herself on to her arm to purchase. "I workout a lot, too, and sightsee or whatever." Licking the edge of her lip, she paused in front of one of the standing mirrors mounted on one of the support pillars, inspecting herself. As she paused to talk, she slid her lipstick from her purse and reapplied.

"Also, I like cars," she admitted. "Like, fixing them, and stuff? My brother worked in a garage and I liked going out with him when I was little, but mostly just looking beautiful. It's a full time job."

"A job you do well, though, I have to admit that I would have never imagined you with a wrench in hand unless it was for some kind of sexed up photo shoot." Franchesca replied, leaning up against the pillar. "And I mean that in literally the best way possible." She added a moment later with a small chuckle.

"No, me either. This is the life for me. And soon, I'll wife Dandelion up and be set for life. He'll die long before me, so, I'll be rich and single." Happy with her choice, and without the option to try things on, she looked to Franchesca. "So, ready to go?"​

 

[Nav]

Franchesca perked up at the question, looking down for a moment at the two pieces she had chosen so far. Honestly? She wanted more, and that was a tad bit worrying, but just like back in the boutique she decided that it would come in time.

And in time she'd buy herself all these pretty things with her own money rather than Dandelion's, yeah. She liked the sound of that a lot. Smiling warmly, she nodded towards the counter. "Lead the way."

As before, Raya paid for their garment choices with Dandelion's credit card and led them back onto the sidewalk and to the car. "So, salon next or lunch? I'll leave it up to you. I think lunch next may be better, so we don't ruin our makeup, but if you're not hungry yet or, like, whatever, you know... we can go to the salon."

The event started at four, and it was already nearly one. Not that that meant anything, of course. Raya planned to be a little bit late, and she certainly wouldn't allow being fetched from her room by Dandelion, or any other man. She'd descend in a grand entrance. That's just how things were meant to be.

"Let's get something to eat but maybe it wouldn't hurt to go against the program here and try for some street food?" Franchesca suggested with a shrug. They had the entirety of the morning in uptown and the last thing she would want was another tiny little serving on a tiny little plate. "I'm sure we'll have our fair share of fine dining tonight after all."

"Uhh, what?" Raya eyed her suspiciously, like Franchesca had just grown a second head. "Street food? That sounds greasy, and fattening... honey, this figure doesn't maintain itself, you know."

"It sounds like a good time." Franchesca corrected with a grin, crossing her arms and shifting the bag of lingerie on her wrist with it. From beside the blonde she gave her a little nudge. "Come on, I'm not asking you to take me to the slums and get some fast food... just something a little more hearty than a salad.

Raya couldn't resist the natural curl of her lip back at the unsavory suggestion. Her body shifted with the nudge, but still she didn't reply. She wasn't even sure how to reply. Dandelion did tell her to take Franchesca out and "make sure she enjoys herself," but this was going too far.

"I guess," she muttered finally. "But I won't touch anything deep fried."

"Fine, but if you thought you could get me to walk around in stilettos without a little compromise on your part you were sadly mistaken." Franchesca replied, her grin growing wider and uneven like plenty of times before. "Come on Ms. Beautiful, I promise it won't be as bad as you think."

In reality Franchesca had very little way of knowing, this was after all her very first venture into Germany. She was winging it and that was a little evident as they slid into the back of the car. Franchesca explained to the driver what she wanted and when he asked for a specific name she could not give it. Instead she just told him to drive back down to some of the less imposing commercial areas.

It was awhile before Franchesca finally spotted what looked like a decently maintained food truck. It was cute and novel, the chalkboard menus leaned up above the metal openings written in colorful German. Without giving Raya a chance to protest she stepped out and motioned for the blonde to follow.

"Don't look so sour--think of the wrinkles." Franchesca reminded her with a small laugh, waiting for her to step out and closing the door behind her. The dark haired woman, in an effort of friendliness and perhaps a way to try and comfort Raya, lead the way before slipping an arm in between hers.

The vendors did not know English but that did not deter Franchesca. She pointed to one of the items on the menu that were next to the novel little drawing of a burger, laughing and nodding until they finally turned to Raya for her order. Franchesca could not help but do the same.

Raya was unamused. The day she had planned had taken a sudden turn for the worst and the change in her dietery plan left her wondering if she'd even fit in that skintight dress she just purchased, or if she'd look like she had a pooch in her belly. The thought of it caused her to suck her stomach in, resting a hand over it.

They got out and Franchesca led the way, Raya trotting after her with the clacking of her skyscraper heels following behind. The darkhaired woman slipped her hand through her arm, and she pouted, though it didn't last long at the warning of wrinkles.

"No," she declared as they stepped up to the foodtruck. "No red meat. It's strictly off limits. Damnit. How do you say salad in German?" She cussed and turned to the man up in the truck. "Saaallllaaaad," she said loudly and slowly, like it would help the man understand better.

He nodded friendly, smiling and going to take the credit card she offered before submitting the order to the cook squished in behind him.

Raya, believing the man understood her demand for leafed greens, was unpleasantly surprised a few minutes later when the man called out to them with two disposable plates of burger in his hands.

"Uh, no." She wagged a finger. "Salad."

Franchesca watched the scene develop with a quirked brow an upturned lips. It was amusing to see the tables turn, to see Raya caught in a situation that she wasn't used to, rather than herself for a change. That was why, before the blonde could wag her finger any more, Franchesca thanked the man and took both servings of burger and fries over to a small metal table that had been set up in front of the truck.

"You can order that salad if you want but I'm just going to go ahead and start eating alright?" Franchesca called out, perhaps a little too amused at how things turned out, before sitting down. She threw a thick, deep fried french fry in her mouth and continued when she swallowed. "Feel free to join me or see if anyone around her can translate for you."

"What? No, no, no, you looked too hot in that dress to ruin it with french fries, god," she snorted, trudging after the brunette and sitting down on the metal table with a cringe as she looked at the dirtiness of it-- real or imagined, who knew-- and laid her hands in her lap.

Her eyes swept over the food laid before her and she pulled the tomato off the burger, eating that with some disdain that she had to use her fingers.

"I'll take the french fries back to the hotel for later then, but you can't stop me from eating the burger." Franchesca compromised, her quirked brow never coming to rest fully seeing as Raya was willing to resort to eating a tomato slice. It was a little concerning, but just like Dandelion, Franchesca supposed she had her quirks.

True to her word Franchesca set down what would have been her fifth fry and picked up the burger. It was greasy, but not overly so, and packed with flavors that definitely screamed your classic beef burger but also had a hint of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe it was German, maybe it was something else, she didn't care. It was good.

Halfway through Franchesca smiled once more at Raya's concern. "Don't worry, I'm lucky to say that I have a high metabolism. By the time I feel the effects of this burger the gallery will be long opened."

"You sure you don't want to at least take a bite? It tastes amazing, I promise."

"Ugh," Raya moaned as she looked over the meal. Her stomach betrayed her by growling aggressively, and her hand fell against it like she was a first-time mother, newly pregnant. "Maybe just one bite," she obliged. She picked up the burger with only two fingers on both hand, like even touching it was a sin, and took the smallest mouse-sized nibble from one side anyone could imagine.

She chewed deliberately, slowly, and lady-like, until she swallowed. The crinkled look melted away the minute the taste hit her senses, and it was rather clear that it only served to make her hungrier. "Red meat is totally poison for the body," she explained, using every bit of willpower to set the burger down.

"So is vodka but that doesn't stop the likes of you and me from day drinking now does it?" Franchesca quipped, taking another bite and shooting the woman a wink simultaneously. The power of suggestion was a terribly capable thing and she used it both consciously and not. "Some poisons are worth a little suffering down the line in my opinion, anyways."

"Not before a big event," she replied, eyeing the burger with equal parts interest and suspicion, like she was expecting it to jump out at her at any moment. "I mean, let's be honest for a moment. Dandelion wouldn't marry me if I wasn't hot, and I wouldn't marry him if he was poor, so..."

Despite her words, Raya was picking up the burger and eating a little bit more, not putting it down in-between bites. She did force herself to be finished at the halfway mark, tossing it down into the basket and shoving it aside. "Vodka at least has no calories."

"Maybe. The both of you are so shameless though that I doubt either of you would be afraid to tell the other to shape up--financially or physically." Franchesca mentioned in passing before fully devoting herself to finishing the burger. Sated but not entirely uncomfortable thanks to refraining from her fries, Franchesca only halted them once more to grab a to-go baggie for both her and Raya's servings.

Only smiling at her comment in regards to vodka, Franchesca offered her arm once more before nodding back to the car that waited for them off to the side.

"So. Salon?"

"That's a line," Raya said, wagging her finger at Franchesca. "Our eventual engagement is entirely a business deal, and a good one, at that. He gets me, and I get his money." She stood, not seeming to care what Franchesca did with the leftovers and glided back towards the car, a ribbon of blonde hair floating out behind her.

"Yes, please," she remarked. "I need to wash off that gross from my body."

The ride to the salon was a short one-- just around the block. They could have walked it, but Raya didn't walk on sidewalks unless she was going from the car to her destination, which is exactly what she did upon their arrival. Like the shops before, the salon was stylish and sleek in its design, and smelled like hairspray.

"Reservation for Medina," she said, approaching the hostess who was quick to usher them back and offer them water, sodas, and coffees. Raya declined all, and whispered something to the stylist coming to fetch Franchesca before going off with her own stylist to the body wrap and back massage portion of her spa treatment.

Franchesca asked for water to wash lunch down and expected a bottle, instead she was greeted by a glass with cucumber and lemon slices resting at the bottom. She barely had time to sip before a stylist came and Raya ominously whispered into her ear.

"What did she say?" Franchesca asked but the young brunette just laughed off her concern as she was brought to one of the private rooms. There she received a facial, her aunt was an enthusiast of such things, and everything seemed alright until the pricking.

It hurt like hell. It hurt so bad that for a moment Franchesca considered the idea that Raya had told the stylist to go extra hard as payback for forcing her to eat actual food. It was a dumb thought, one without merit, and by the time the pricking was over Franchesca was grateful. Grateful and sore.

The dark haired woman then got ushered onto a massage table and it would have been more pleasurable had her face not felt like it just went through the wringer. The stylist assured her that her skin would be incredibly clear by the time all the swelling came down but Franchesca was skeptical.

When the back rub was completed Franchesca was surprised to learn her clothes wouldn't be returned to her just yet. The stylist gave her a fluffy bathrobe and slippers before escorting her back to the parlor where Raya waited presumably more comfortable following her beauty routine.

Franchesca sat down in the seat beside her, sighing as she ran a hand through hair that had yet to be done. "You never know how much whiteheads you have until they are forcibly removed under the disguise of a facial."

"Well, you probably know but I did not have such a luxury."

Raya, have finished her facial and massage, stepped out into the salon floor in a wrapped towel and a steamy look on her face. The makeup had all been pulled off her skin, revealing a much paler shade, and brightly flushed cheeks as she was ushered into a salon chair to have her hair, and her makeup, done.

Two stylists worked on them both, one for hair, one for makeup. In English, Raya directed them to exactly what she wanted, and they got to work preening and beautifying... plucking eyebrows and that one rogue chin hair, trimming up damaged ends, and curling eyelashes.

"Beauty is pain, sweetheart," Raya replied, leaning back and closing her eyes as she was pampered by wands, brushes, and hairdryers. "Once we're done here, we'll head back to the hotel and change. We can't go down too early. We need to have the boys wait our arrival for a while."

Raya cracked open a single eye and glanced to the side, to Franchesca. "You look a little red in the face, darling. You'll need some serious powder for that."

Franchesca would have gladly taken all the brushes and tools that came at her in the following hour than the damned prick from the facials. The stylist took note of her face's reaction to the pain and focused on her hair in order to give her skin some time to rest before application.

Franchesca's natural waves were not changed by her stylist but enhanced, tousled in a way that looked what she considered purposely messy. Her hair was made to drape over her back, some waves spilling over the front of one shoulder and down onto her chest. Her bangs were similar, some strands parting from the masses to fall between the spaces in her eyes.

She was happier about it than she cared to admit. Franchesca could only hope Wolfgang would feel the same. Turning to Raya as the stylist moved off to finally gather the materials needed for her makeup, Franchesca shrugged.

"If I'm drinking tonight, I'll be red no matter what." She mused lightly, turning back forward as her stylist returned. "Okay indulge my naive little question but should I be wearing the lingerie under the dress or...?"

"Hm," Raya snorted as she turned back, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the seatback. The women working pulled and sleeked her hair back into a gorgeous French twist up the back of her head. Her makeup softened her already dewy skin into a more handsome shade of bronze, enhancing her naturally beautiful features and making her cheekbones look like a man could cut themselves on them. She gently clicked her nails against the armrest as they worked.

"You can," she replied, barely moving her lips to speak as her makeup artist applied a thick curve of eyeliner over her eyelids. "I'll be wearing nothing at all under my dress, but that's up to you. You know, how much do you want to make them work for it once the night at the party is over, if you know what I mean." The woman applied mascara and Raya battered her eyelashes with a smile into the mirror opposite of her, going back to her self-admiration.​

 

[Bears]

It was a good question and one that Franchesca hadn't considered. Sitting backwards and looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered just how much she wanted Wolfgang to work for it. Without a word, Franchesca rather quickly that she would make him work for it a lot. With her hair the way it was and the dress waiting for him back at the hotel... if he thought the the days leading up to the jet were torture he would learn the true definition of suffering tonight.

Her lips curved into a naughty smirk at the thought and she crossed one leg over the other. This was all granted she'd be able to control herself as well. It had been a morning and she missed his voice, his touch.

At the request of the stylist her expression straightened out and Franchesca went through the process of being done up. It wasn't what she was used to but it was a little easier dealing with the uncomfortable sensation of her eyelashes being brushed out longer ever knowing that all that afterwards the only thing left to do was the opening.

Like her hair, Franchesca's makeup was done to enhance her creamy complexion and striking natural look rather than change it. Her brows were darkened and arched a little sharper than normal, her lips were colored like wine somewhere between a deep red and a strong pink, and her cheek bones were made to glow with contour and highlight.

To Franchesca's request her eye shadow and blush was kept to a minimum, the former being made to look natural and the latter hardly used at all. By the time it was all done Franchesca was exhausted, but both her and the woman next to her looked glamorous.

Franchesca swung the chair to face Raya fully and she smiled. "You look fucking hot."

"You look fucking hot," Raya replied. She stood up from her chair, looking over Franchesca before her eyes fluttered back to the mirror. Her lip bore a punchy red lipstick and her features were enhanced substantially with highlighter and blush. Though she hardly needed any concealer at all, the slight darkening below her eyes was completely erased, leaving a cool, creamy complexion all over.

She licked her nail and stroked back one little baby hair that escaped, turning her head a few times to look at herself from all angles. "I think we're about ready to take care of this little gala thing, and destroy the dreams of all the other men and women there."

Raya was in to strutting herself, and if she broke a few hearts while she did it, all the better.

"Come on, we have pre-gala champagne to drink and new dresses to put on." With that, Raya proceeded back into the changing room and re-donned her clothing, as carefully as possible to avoid ruining anything, and went into the front lobby to wait for Franchesca.

Franchesca mirrored the woman's movements but remained true to herself all the while. She stood, examined her hair and makeup a little more finely before thanking the stylists on the way to the changing room. The dark haired woman took her time, it was torturous trying to fit all of her hair through the opening of her shirt. They had used hairspray but Franchesca did not trust it.

She wanted to look her absolute best.

Franchesca later joined the woman who helped her achieve just that. Raya paid while Franchesca changed and after a few more goodbyes both of the women were off looking like a million dollars. The car waited for them and they both boarded, Franchesca feeling a tinge of excitement in her fingers and toes as the time between now and the opening grew smaller and smaller.

They arrived at the hotel and Raya led the way to the suite that Dandelion had paid for presumably the both of them. On the way to the lift they drew looks from all across the lobby and the very first of the whispers began. What those whispers entailed, well, Franchesca could only hope it was positive.

There at Raya's suite was where Franchesca's dress had been delivered. They stepped inside and the bag, which was empty, sat in front of the closet with a note attached to it and it seemed that Franchesca was still not done being surprised by how much effort was put into pleasing the elite.

Was this what Wolfgang was used to? She had to ask him later that night. When things got quiet between her and Raya it was right back to Wolf where her mind wandered, she couldn't help it. She was nervous, excited, and incredibly ready to see him again.

They hadn't started dressing yet when Franchesca turned to face Raya with a sly smile. "Now... what was that you said about pre-gala champagne?"

Raya remained unusually quiet the rest of the trip, as if she was saving her voice for the event. Her silence was not unfriendly. Rather, she wore a pleasant expression, or nearly pleasant, if she ever did manage to smile a little bit and open up.

Up at the hotel suite, she sat in one of the armchairs and flipped through the television channels, watching everything for a few minutes before flipping on. At the mention of champagne, she turned it off and smirked.

"That's my lil sis," she said and sprung up with renewed energy. From the room's mini bar, she produced a bottle of expensive bubbly and waved it in front of Franchesca. "One glass, then we got to get ready."

"One and a half." Franchesca winked as she followed after the blonde and procured two matching glasses from the very bar. She had spotted a matching set earlier that morning in her room with Wolfgang. She handed on glass to Raya before motioning towards the bubbly with hers with a grin. "After you."

With a resounding pop, the cork flung free and Rays giggled ever so gleefully as she poured out the two glasses. Foamy alcohol surged up the glass and dribbled over the lip, on to the carpet. "You're fun to have around," she said, taking her glass and setting down the bottle. "I hope you come to more."

"To coming around more then." Franchesca laughed warmly, raising her glass up to clink it with her companions before drinking a fair bit in the first go. It was sweet though she had very little experience to compare it to as vodka was her go to poison.

Regardless, she was not kidding when she said she wanted more than one glass. She finished swiftly before pouring herself another one and letting all the worries slink away from her with a light wiggle of her arms and hips.

"How late should we go down there?" Franchesca asked as she moved over to the closet, pulling it open and smiling once more at the sight of the black gown.

Like the other woman, Raya consumed more than one glass. She was on her third by the time she skipped out of her day dress and laid the bright red little number out on the bed to look it over.

"Maybe, like, a half hour. We want to be late, but not so late we're in bad taste," she explained, sipping her champagne shortly thereafter. Once finished, she set the glass down and began to work the red, slinky dress over her form, moving slow so as not to disrupt a single strand of hair or brush of makeup.

"It started at four." Raya glances at the clock. It was five past, meaning they still had plenty of time to finish their dressing... and champagne.

Franchesca nodded and took her time slipping out of her jeans and shirt and changing into the black lace set she had bought for Wolfgang. Afterwards she slid into her dress and it was a little tighter now that she had a full lunch but it was nothing she felt was worthy of note or complaint. If anything she felt like she filled it out just a little bit better thanks to her burger.

Franchesca was examining herself in the vanity when Raya pointed out the time. She felt a giddiness rise up and the dark haired woman could not help but pour herself another glass right then.

Franchesca downed it quickly but not recklessly, her hair and makeup thankfully untouched in all the commotion, before moving towards the closet with a little spring in her step to grab the stilettos. They were the next to come on and following a moment of discomfort and adjustment, she stood tall looking--admittedly--hot as hell.

Franchesca was nearly surprised at the final product of both her and Raya's efforts. She felt nothing but confident to look as stunning and as radiant as she did and it showed in her posture, in the twinkle in her foxy brown eyes. Bringing her slightly ajar mouth to a close, Franchesca turned back to Raya and her lips curved into a smirk that was almost sultry.

She could not wait to see Wolfgang.

"Hand me my mask, please, Miss Beautiful. We have an entrance to make."

Their masks had been delivered. Franchesca the fox, Raya the cat. Both suitable in their own ways. She plucked up Franchesca's first, before the brunette even had a chance. "Turn around, foxy lady. Let me put it on and then can you help me with mine?"

Raya tied off the silk straps tenderly at the back of Franchesca's head. "Mm, look at you, foxy mama. Boys won't be able to keep their hands off."​

 

[Bears]

Franchesca was, naturally, a ball of emotions. It was to be expected really, from a woman who had lived comfortably and plainly like herself, to react the way that she was having been thrown head first into the world of high stakes artistry and glamour. The private jet to Germany, the hotel suite she shared with a man who made her feel like no other, and the companion she had found in the gorgeous being who now approached her with a mask... it was all surreal.

In many ways it reminded her of her dreams. The dreams that, while impossibly sweet, always came to an end. Franchesca couldn't help it--just moments earlier she had felt like she was on top of the world looking at herself in the mirror but now she was constricted by a fear that at any moment she would wake up in Vernazza. Franchesca felt the silk tightened against the back of her head and the mask settled and she could not help the shaky breath that escaped her.

Franchesca chuckled lightly at Raya's comment and gave her a smile as she turned to face the blonde. "As if all the boys would be able to take their eyes off of you for a even a second. Come on, turn around." The dark haired woman was a convincing actress because as soon as her friend complied the smile faded and the worry found her.

Franchecsca tightened the silk, drank the rest of her glass, and soon both her and Raya were off. Their heels clicked lightly against the floor as they made their way down and through the lobby. If people were looking before they were certainly gawking now. Franchescsa and Raya looked like a million dollars even if collectively the clothes on them only cost about fifty grand.

They stepped out of the hotel but weren't exposed to the elements for long as the duo quickly hopped back into the car. The drive was brief and would have been unnecessary for Franchesca had her heels been two inches shorter. Regardless she stepped out of the car and to a crowd, her identity concealed by the details of a fox as her heels landed on a long sectioned off red carpet.

The carpet lead into to the gallery, which like the rest of the buildings that composed the city, was large, stone and imposing. The massive courtyard that surrounded the carpet was filled with photographers and journalists alike, not necessarily to the brim, but Franchesca could barely get a hold of herself in all the flashes. She was stunned but the moment Raya's arm came to hers she managed to recompose herself.

They walked as if they were models, late guests but exciting ones if they were going off by the reaction of the masses. They were greeted by a pair of sharply dressed guards at the grand front doors who verified their identities--Ms. Nicholson and Mrs. Reiter--before letting them inside and Franchesca's mind was in a whirl.

Having arrived at the time that they did, all the ceremony and ribbon cutting had finished, and now those who didn't wish to party were left perusing the gallery. It was beautiful, with tall white walls that juxtaposed the exterior and bright white lights that lit up the sleek hardwood floors. There were paintings and statues all around Franchesca could not wait to examine but Raya had other ideas.

The blonde ushered Franchesca through the gallery until they came to another pair of tuxedo guards standing by a pair of grand wooden doors. This time there was no verification and the doors swung open, revealing to Franchesca and Raya the courtyard and therefore--the masquerade.

"Holy shit." Franchesca breathed, brown eyes widening underneath the mask as they stepped back out into the evening. They stood at the top of a large, central stone staircase and below them was all the festivities. Bars tucked off to the side, a section in the middle that was full of beautiful ladies and men in motion. Music played but Franchesca could barely hear it over the beat of her heat.

There at the top of the stairs Franchesca stayed, her dress cascading slightly down onto the steps in front of her as she leaned against the stone railing.

The courtyard was downright magnificent, but her eyes searched for only one person among all the beautifully grand chaos.​

 

[Nav]

It had been a day of propriety and expectation. Wolfgang spent it in the throes of interesting company, but dull conversation. People spoke endlessly of themselves over brunch and champagne: boasting their accomplishments and their works, like artists did. Wolfgang felt inclined to remain quiet through most of it, answering only when he was asked a question. They were the same people he grew up around; the same people he had been so anxious to impress when he was in his late teens and early twenties.

Now, they were just people. There were a few younger faces, but for the majority, they were older and a bit snooty towards the younger generation. A vast majority of Wolfgang's afternoon was spent listening how the kids will ruin their legacies, ruin art. He spent his afternoon smiling politely, but letting his mind travel to other, more interesting, topics.

It was nearly two by the time people began to dismiss themselves to their rooms to prepare and Wolfgang was glad to do the same. He said goodbye to a few of his closer friends, and slipped away before Dandelion noticed, knowing the man would never let him leave. By three-fifty, he'd made his way into the formal gallery as a picture of well-dressed. A midnight black tuxedo against a white dress shirt provided an interesting juxtaposition against the brilliant silver of his hair, which looked more like liquid mercury in the warm, low lighting. His shoes were polished and his facial hair shaved clean. Even his hair, which usually fell in a few disorganized tussles, was properly groomed and swept back from his forehead.

"Interesting art, don't you say?" a woman, Mrs Comvout, leaned over to him with a smirk. "The artist has such a way with colours, wouldn't you say, Mr Reiter?" her voice dropped to a whisper as the ceremonies rolled on.

"Your husband is very talented," he agreed, reaching over to her hand on his shoulder, and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Nice to see you again."

"You've gotten so old, Wolfgang. I still remember you running around here like a toddler."

"Ah, and yet you haven't aged a day, Colleen."

The ribbon was cut and Colleen, along with others, proceeded to view the gallery of art mounted to the wall. They were water colours in an older style. All beautiful works, naturally, and all focusing on ponds and koi. Wolfgang took a quick tour of the selection, just to keep his mind occupied, and paused to talk with old friends and acquaintances. When the back gardens were opened for the party, Wolfgang was quick to pull away and proceed down the stone steps and into the party.

Collen was there, yet again, to intersect him. "You need a mask, my dearest Wolfgang," she cooed, curling a finger at him to come closer. "Come here, and I shall give you one. Good thing I have just the one for you," she continued, waving for him to turn around and bent down as she slid the black and silver wolf mask over his eyes and tightened the back. "There you are. My husband and I hope to meet your mrs later in the evening. Please ensure we do. I'll be wearing a dove mask, and my husband, a panther."

"I'll see to it. Thank you, again," he replied, sending a glance towards the entrance doors. He knew Dandelion and by extension, knew Raya, and he already was well-aware than neither she nor Franchesca would arrive in any sort of timely manner. That didn't keep him from waiting, rather impatiently.

The lake-side air was pungent with the fragrance of jasmine. It was no natural basin filled with melt water, but the luxury additional to a formal garden by someone with copious amounts of leisure time and money. Flowering lily pads and a wooden bridge crossed the middle, so one could look down at the Koi. Bonsai trees lined the path he strolled in their wooden boxes and the flowerbeds were a riot of spring colour; even in darkness, their colour was brought to life by warm, hanging lanterns.

He circled around a short loop in solitude with his hands clasped behind his back as a distraction. There was no one left in the group he wished to talk to without first spending some time with Franchesca. Somehow, his travels led him to approach behind her, and the moment he saw the dark dress and hair, he knew.

He paused a moment, taken aback by how overwhelming the moment became. Even when he was with Emma, he'd never had a moment like this. A moment where he could see someone h loved waiting for him, but unable to see him, and just appreciate the depth of his feelings for her. A smile formed against his will and he slowly proceeded once more, though slower, as he savored the moment of seeing her—admiring her—before she could him.

Wolfgang's hand fell against the small of her back and his lips pressed into the bare shoulder, the fur of her coat tickling his chin as he did.

"You look--- beautiful."​

 

[Bears]

The lush fur coat that rested just above her elbows shifted slightly with each uneasy minute. Her eyebrows narrowed and her lips pursed together, manicured red finger nails tapping away at the stone top. Waiting. Waiting for someone she cared about was always a tortuous affair. It was a feeling that had only really come back to her with Wolfgang for he was the only one she had allowed get truly close.

Franchesca swallowed to try and sate the dryness that found her throat and she considered, for a moment, retiring from her position above the masquerade to find a glass of something that might calm her nerves. She cast that idea away as quickly as it came however, as Franchesca knew right where she was, was her best chance of finding him--of finding relief to the anxiety that plagued her.

So it should come to no surprise that when it turned out that Wolfgang had been the one to find her, Franchesca was caught off guard.

Franchesca straightened at his touch, lips parting involuntarily to give the softest of gasps. His fingers pressed fabric against skin and the touch alone was enough to send a wave of pleasant chills up her back. The light brush of his lips soothed Franchesca and she relaxed into the action almost immediately, another breath leaving her the moment that baritone rung through, accent and all, just loud enough so the words could be heard but were meant solely for her.

Franchesca turned around slowly, the midnight shade of her dress rolling with the movement, the decals and details glittering underneath the moody lighting cast upon them. She was met by an image of a fine mask and an even finer man underneath it. For a second Franchesca seemed lost for words, her plump bottom lip quivering as her eyes peered through to his.

Suddenly and without warning, she smiled, knowing that this was the entire reason she came to Germany.

"And you shaved." She quipped, the sweetness in her smile never fading even as it turned playful. Her hand came up as she spoke, resting lightly against his neck so her thumb could run the length of his jaw.​

 

[Nav]

"Of course I did," he clarified with a smirk, though his trademark dimples were hidden beneath his mask. "I can't go looking homeless next to a beauty such as yourself." And a beauty she was. From behind, as he approached her, he appreciated the subtle curves of her body that, while hidden a bit behind the coat, returned to his memory the tenderness of her embrace. When she turned to him, however, all the air was purged from his lungs. His heart stuttered to a stop in his ches and it was like seeing her for the first time. He cared little for the makeup or the manicured waves in her hair, set in place by hairspray, but more for the fact that she was there for him— and was his, just as much as he was hers.

He had to swallow to stir his mind again, though his thoughts were sent into disarray once more at her touch. The warmth of her hand on his neck, the thumb trailing the length of his jaw. He closed his eyes and dropped the weight of his head into her palm and gave a softer smile. "I missed you," he whispered, "just like I promised I would, but it was well worth the wait." His hand slid from her back to her hip as she turned to him, and he gave her a slight tug to pull her in closer. The smell of hairspray lingering with his aftershave gave an alluring prickle to his senses.

He stopped caring about the gallery opening, less than he had before. His heart thundered anew in his chest when his eyes cracked open and he inspected her for details. The midnight sequins of her dress glittered, but didn't catch the light annoyingly, so as to not blind or distract from how the fabric clung to her body like a second skin. His hand wandered from her hip up her side, sliding below the crook of her arm so they were linked close together.

As much as he wanted to see what was below the dress, they still had a few hours of gala to attend before he could go on peeling those panels of glossy black fabric. "There are several people very interested in meeting you, Mrs Reiter, But first, how about a drink?"

Like her, he could use a drink. He'd been to plenty of events just like that one— some alone, some with Emma— and they still didn't feel comfortable. He didn't enjoy being around that mass of people. The conversation was hard to navigate, and trying to recall the names of people he met five— ten— years back challenging and frustrating. Drinking helped, and it would also aid in cooling his jets a bit when it came to the delightfully beautiful, and sexy, woman on his arm.

Wolfgang stepped down the stone steps, his gaze sweeping over the crowd that mingled below them. Next to the bars were catering tables, filled with hundreds of finger foods. The highlight of the event was the dessert selection. "This gallery boasts a hundred unique desserts at each of its events," he explained. "I've heard the candied rose petals are among the best." He tilted his head to motion towards the dessert table, which caused a flock of people all around. "There is also a garden maze a ways deeper into the garden, and I believe I saw a few performers and a jazz band that will be starting."

Most of he entertainment was meant to be made by conversation, but the maze and dancing provided a distraction from meaningless talk.

Spoiler

OMG THREE HUNDRED POSTS OMG WE ARE THE BEST I LOVE YOU YOU ARE AMAZING WE ARE AMAZING. WE ROCK. I LOVE YOU AND FRANCHESCA AND WOLFIE AND *cries*