He brought a hand to her face. It hovered there for a moment before he brushed away a strand of her hair. He felt her bristle at his touch. How he had always wanted to see her cower before him, with every bit of fight gone from her.
He pulled his hand back and turned away from the still trembling girl. “Go back to sleep.”
The Courier seemed to be her usual self by morning, full of sarcasm and venom towards the frumentarius. “Sleep well, Foxy?” she jeered, rolling over to face him.
Vulpes narrowed his eyes at her. “Well enough, though you certainly sought to prevent that.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she responded, though the overly amused expression on her face said otherwise.
Vulpes threw off the blankets and stood up, stretching his travel-weary muscles. He could feel the Courier's icy eyes boring into his back. He picked up her dress from atop his bag and turned around, tossing it at her face. “Make yourself useful and start getting ready. You're going to need a lot of work to look like a New Vegas socialite.”
It took hours of prepping before the two of them were nearly ready. The Courier sat in front of a broken vanity mirror, applying a deep red lipstick to her lips as Vulpes stood behind her, adjusting his bowtie. The Courier turned to face him. “How do I look?”
He looked her up and down. Her hair was down and combed, and glittering pre-war jewelry adorned her neck where her animal tooth necklace normally hung. “Not like yourself.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I'm not sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.”
“Neither,” Vulpes replied. “Now repeat your alias back to me. You are...?”
“I am Vivianne Rainsford, the youngest daughter of a farmer from out by New Reno.”
“And I am...?”
“You are Mr. James Fox, a wealthy weapons traders, and my beloved fiance.”
Vulpes chose to ignore her sneering emphasis on “beloved”. “Good girl.” He bent towards her and roughly cupped her wide-eyed face, pulling it towards his. “And what is the most important rule of the night?” “To never break cover and to keep my mouth shut whenever possible,” she mumbled through his hand.
He released his grip and walked toward the door, extending his arm towards her. “Shall we?”
When Day is Done 6/?
He brought a hand to her face. It hovered there for a moment before he brushed away a strand of her hair. He felt her bristle at his touch. How he had always wanted to see her cower before him, with every bit of fight gone from her.
He pulled his hand back and turned away from the still trembling girl. “Go back to sleep.”
The Courier seemed to be her usual self by morning, full of sarcasm and venom towards the frumentarius. “Sleep well, Foxy?” she jeered, rolling over to face him.
Vulpes narrowed his eyes at her. “Well enough, though you certainly sought to prevent that.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she responded, though the overly amused expression on her face said otherwise.
Vulpes threw off the blankets and stood up, stretching his travel-weary muscles. He could feel the Courier's icy eyes boring into his back. He picked up her dress from atop his bag and turned around, tossing it at her face. “Make yourself useful and start getting ready. You're going to need a lot of work to look like a New Vegas socialite.”
It took hours of prepping before the two of them were nearly ready. The Courier sat in front of a broken vanity mirror, applying a deep red lipstick to her lips as Vulpes stood behind her, adjusting his bowtie. The Courier turned to face him. “How do I look?”
He looked her up and down. Her hair was down and combed, and glittering pre-war jewelry adorned her neck where her animal tooth necklace normally hung. “Not like yourself.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I'm not sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.”
“Neither,” Vulpes replied. “Now repeat your alias back to me. You are...?”
“I am Vivianne Rainsford, the youngest daughter of a farmer from out by New Reno.”
“And I am...?”
“You are Mr. James Fox, a wealthy weapons traders, and my beloved fiance.”
Vulpes chose to ignore her sneering emphasis on “beloved”. “Good girl.” He bent towards her and roughly cupped her wide-eyed face, pulling it towards his. “And what is the most important rule of the night?”
“To never break cover and to keep my mouth shut whenever possible,” she mumbled through his hand.
He released his grip and walked toward the door, extending his arm towards her. “Shall we?”