Time spent with her, of all people made the normally taciturn Drago change his disposition to something far different. The stiff military perfect posture relaxed, he actually found it in himself to smile and laugh, without it being something sardonic. He could crack wise and show his affections without reservation. So it came as no surprise how lost in the moment the vitiated man often came to be. From ill-tempered hound of war to a lovesick puppy Drago made the switch just for her. Even as they parted from their embrace and mulled over the myriad of possibilities for the future, he wore a faint smile on his stigmatized face. His lips curling a little more tightly on one side, pulling at the beginnings of the jagged scar at the corner of his mouth.
Drago's sense of time was suspect whenever he was with Sibylla, it felt as thought time had slowed itself to a crawl just to bear witness to their interaction. Still, it was never enough for Dragovich. Just a few minutes more was something he would always ask for, even if you gave him all of eternity to indulge in the sickly sweet cloy of their union. He'd still find it in himself to ask for just a few minutes more. And despite it all, the ticking of the clock would always betray them shortly there after. The hands of the clock moving onward, uncaring, perhaps even unknowingly cutting deep into their lives, like a pair of pitiless guillotines.
Drago hated to feel like they were scrambling to keep up with it all. Especially when his more pragmatic sensibilities kicked in and spurred them from the chronological gaol that was indecision. By his count they might of actually been fashionably late soon, he didn't mind it much but he certainly cared if it would at all put the pressure on his partner. But as ever she seemed unperturbed, she giggled and all at once Drago's worry on the matter vanished, like so many times before. "Right...no rush, milovaný. It's hardly anything substantial, yeah?" he muttered wistfully. The smile on his face grew ever so slightly as Sibylla began to pull away, but reluctance made her linger for just a few more moments. It was nice to feel wanted from time to time, and this was one of many little things that gave him the satisfaction of such a a thing.
"Alright. A short jaunt through the masses and then off to relax, sound good?" He gave a small laugh as Sibylla went about her business, with that enchanting air of resolve she took once she dedicated herself to a task or an idea. It was concerning as it was endearing sometimes but he loved it all the same. " Careful now, Sibylla. If you truly give it your all you might leave us all in awestruck admiration. Call it selfish but, I wish to keep the full extent of of your divine beauty to myself, my love." The honeyed words flowed forth so easily, laden with amorous praise. However almost immediately upon hearing them out loud even Drago had to cringe a little. It had sounded far more poetic and suave in his head and not like the possessive ramblings of a trash poet, he was awful at this. His face burned as he felt himself beginning to blush at his own foolish banter. "That...was stupid." he whispered to himself despondently.
Drago tilted his head to one side, his hair falling down across his face, allowing him to hide his shame more effectively. Amber eyes behind curtains of carmine, ablaze with embarrassment at as he stole glances here and there at his love. "A-alright. Again no need to rush. Ahaha..haha..." he managed to choke out against the waves of horrific mortification. And of course, it was then Sibylla in all her whimsical beauty would toss out a kittenish, "no peeking."
Drago already being compromised by his own foolishness was blindsided by the comment. He had no intention of peeking, something they both knew for sure. He paused briefly in confusion, wondering why it would have even been mentioned. But alas the point drove itself home and back after a few moment's of thought. It was a flirtatious and endearing jest but a cruel one as well. The impact and implications of it made even the usually stoical hulk of a man writhe. To avoid letting the mere concept of it nag him any longer he quickly went to divert his attention, laughing it off nervously.
Whilst Sibylla prepared herself for the excursion to the mixer Drago went about tidying up some things around their living space. Well, technically it was his, but he often elected to think of it as a place for the two of them should they needed it. They both spent enough time her to call it their own domicile and frankly he had so little in the place he wouldn't of minded if she simply moved in. Barely a quarter of the space was even being used. Though accommodations had been made to afford Drago a more comfortable living he rarely deigned to make full use of it all. More so out of habit than active decision making. He'd grown up with very little and grew used to making do with only what was needed. It was utilitarian in it's simplicity.
Thinking on it, a majority of the nicer possessions he had were present because it had been a gift, or because someone had brought it to his attention that it was something he needed. Even the little device that he'd been using for music only minutes prior was a gift from Sibylla. As he finished making the bed he sat down on the edge of it and fished around his suit's pockets for said device. His hand felt the cool metallic surface of it amidst the soft warm fabric. With one fluid motion he withdrew the item from his jacket and looked upon it fondly.
It was one of many things she'd given him, and knowing how often she'd thought of him and had gone out of her way to go that extra mile was truly heartwarming. Sadly just as soon as he had felt that familiar intimate sense of ardor it was shattered to diminutive shards. The surface of the device he looked upon was a combination a matter gunmetal grey and a metallic black. The sheen of the sleek little screen was highly reflective, on on that surface he found himself looking once again at the unfamiliar visage he'd come face to face with after his shower.
He blinked twice as once again he locked eyes with this stranger looking back at him. He tilted the device this way and that making the reflection shift one way or the other. All the while the creature on the other side continued to stare daggers at him. Drago raised his hand to his face, once again tracing a finger across the scar. He hated seeing it. He hated other people seeing it. What was more, was seeing the impostor on the surface of his favourite little piece of technology. It was a gift from his dearest, how dare that thing mar it like that, using it's marvelous shine as a black mirror. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth ever so slightly. It was like it was mocking him. But of course the thing he was staring at was indeed him, as much as he found it hard to believe it at times
Something about knowing what was true but still feeling something else was infuriating. The sensation gnawed at him often. But since the move to this new locale it had begun to get worse. As Drago glared at his reflection his hands slowly began to shake. It started as a slight tremor but eventually he dropped the little device on the bed as a strange kind of panic set in. His breathing rapidly began to increase to an alarming pace. He shuddered as the image burned into his mind seemed to plaster itself to the forefront of his psyche. With a deep and shaky breath he scrambled to the drawer of his bedside table. He yanked the drawer open and frantically dug through it's contents. He had to cover it. He had to hide it. He needed that roll of gauze...something...anything. Anything to hide his shame. It didn't matter what, so long as he got a hold of it, right now.
The bedside table didn't have much space to hold things so once his initial search of it brought up nothing, the man quickly moved across the room to his dresser. Frantically searching for thee roll of gauze he'd used before he sifted through his belongings and still there was nothing. He tossed a cursory glance across the room. Tables and the counter tops, every surface was fair game. He may have left it on one of them without realizing. Yet still there was nothing. He swore quietly, his eyes drifting to the bathroom door. It must of been in there, oh it was definitely in there. No. Absolutely not. He wasn't going to go for it. Knowing that she was in there at the moment was enough to give him pause. And that's exactly what he needed. To stop. To pause. To take a moment to relax.
He inhaled sharply and took a few seconds to force himself to calm down. He'd gone through this before at least twice. He had to just calm the fuck down and stop panicking over little things. It wasn't an issue. Realistically, he didn't really feel that way, but reciting it until it was dogma had been something he took to before. It was a mantra of sorts. It's fine. We're fine. We're over this. The more he thought about it the more he could try rationalize it. Sadly it was only a band-aid. A temporary patch for a much larger problem. You couldn't simply logic it away by thinking hard enough. He didn't like having moments like this but it came with the territory. The new territory specifically. Moving to a new place meant new people. He had to get comfortable with his face begin around so many new other faces. He'd done it before but it never made it any easier when he had to do it again.
Drago leaned forward resting his elbows on a nearby table and then letting his head fall forward into his hands. He couldn't quite shake off the persistent desire to just hide his face somehow. No one was even around right now but still he felt like he was being stared at. The best he could do was simply take a deep breath and tell himself it wasn't necessary. He was nothing if not disciplined, one of the very few things he could argue was positive from the life head lead prior to now. So eventually he managed to pull himself back together, if not at the very least he delayed whatever else had been coming with the surge of panic and discomfort. Suddenly he wasn't sure he really felt like leaving for this mixer anymore, but he'd endure.
His little episode and subsequent "recovery" had taken far more time than he'd anticipated. So as it turned out he managed to stall himself long enough for Sibylla to finish getting ready and emerge from the bathroom in all her glory. She was indeed a sight for sore eyes by this point. Her return making him feel a little more at ease with himself. Drago slowly turned to face her with a weary smile. "Sublime as always. Absolutely immaculate." he professed in earnest. "It suits you beautifully." he added as he stepped away from the table and wandered over to her side.
Part of him had wanted to do the cliche thing he'd seen in films and the awful scenes in books, where one took a woman's hand and gave her a little twirl to show off how lovely they looked. However she'd already beaten him to it and the thought made him chuckle softly. "Hmm. No. I think the outfit you have now will be more than fitting for the occasion." he reassured offering her a quick peck on the cheek before taking her hand in his. Drago stepped carefully around Sibylla so that he would bee leading the way toward the door, waling backwards so he could still talk to her face to face. Something about the situation had him feeling like trying his hand at another awful bit of prose. So as on hand reached out behind him for the door he spoke again. "Besides, it doesn't matter much if our clothes aren't matching. I'm sure the rhythm of our steps and the beating of our hearts will synchronize well enough to make up for it. Although I can always find something to better match your attire next time. "
Drago didn't cringe this time instead he laughed helplessly, it was terrible and he knew it. It was laying it on too thick but in a way that was part of the fun. After all it had been a tough week and if saying a few godawful lines and dancing terribly in a room full of people he didn't know was a way to help blow of steam then so be it. He felt a small twinge of panic at the idea, his mind fixating on his scarred face, but he managed to shove those feelings back down. For now all that mattered was spending time with Sibylla. With an ostentatious flourish Dragovich opened the door and lead Sibylla to mixer. Sprinkling the trip their with more awful professions of love and proclamations of her beauty, quietly whispered as they passed other agents going about their business.
Getting to the mixer didn't take long, but as the pair entered the auditorium and bore witness to the raucous horror of what ever nonsense had being transpiring, he wished it had. There was music as he expected but not in the form he'd been anticipating, there was singing which was also a possibility but again in a grotesquely different form. The one thing he hadn't been expecting was...would one call that posing? Then there was the commotion on the other side of the room, and clusters of people clearly having already had too much to drink. It was utter bedlam in there. He had figured things would be overstimulating to a degree, but this was a few degrees past reasonable, at least for him anyway.
He wasn't sure what he was looking at really. He didn't get it, but it was loud and eye catching. With a look of concern his gaze drifted to his side to fall upon Sibylla. "Well...it certainly looks...interesting. Is it all you hoped for?" he asked the confusion evident in his voice. "I uh, don't know what to make of any of this. Should we just keep going? After you I guess." he laughed nervously.
Location:His Room ⟶ The Mixer
Company:Sibylla and then some other people
Status:Flustered, anxious, and then confused.
[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]
