I can tell that we are gonna be friends
No Dance : Current Conversation : Ilyas and Harrison (@Kristi @Madilfill) ~ongoing~
A bellowing voice broke the momentary silence between Ilyas and Corin from somewhere behind them. They turned together, Ilyas seemingly excited by the man’s presence.
He was tall. That was Corin’s first thought. Corin himself was quite tall, so to find a man taller was a shock to be sure. There was a scar down his left cheek that left Corin wondering about his past, something he often did not care for in others. However, scars tell stories, and those stories were almost always as painful as they looked on the skin. Corin instinctively readjusted his gloves and sleeve cuffs, assuring his own scarring was more than covered.
Aside from that, his features were dark, rugged, and spilling with confidence. He definitely seemed like the type Ilyas would attract. Corin knew he would now have his hands full around both of them.
“Aren’t you two just the luckiest men, befriending someone as beautiful as me?” Ilyas jested. Corin could not hold back a scoff, but stayed otherwise quiet as to let the man, he now knew to be Harrison Davis, speak first.
“I am an underpaid worker of his, as he’s always in need of saving, and my back quite hurts from saving him and yet I don’t get even 10 shillings, unfairness I would say.” Harrison’s face twisted in a mock pain that forced a small chuckled from Corin’s throat.
“You are being paid?” Corin gasped, also feigning a mocked pain. “I am lucky if I receive a letter in correspondence.” Corin laughed, nudging Ilyas slightly with his shoulder.
As Harrison continued his excessively long introduction, Corin stood, a brow raised as he glanced down at his hand.
Mr. Davis seemed vastly overconfident, nauseatingly charming, and likely too rakish for his poor mother’s heart to handle…and that is precisely the man Corin preferred in his company.
Corin took Harrison’s hand, holding his gaze as he did so, as if to say, ‘We shall be good friends’, in his stare. For rakes, Corin had found, were often men of great moral stature, contrary to their outward behavior. In every country he had roamed, every man he had met, it was, indeed, the dabblers of ill-repute that held the highest of esteems. It seemed, to Corin, that men escaping responsibility or pain turned to the bottle, the pipe, or the dens. Those men, however momentarily lost, were devastatingly loyal and fierce in their truest of beliefs. These men, Corin often sought out for business or for companionship on the road. For they were always reliable in times most needed.
“Corin…Blackwood.” He said as he finally released Harrison’s hand. “If that is too long for your lips…” Corin mocked Harrison’s introduction, a smirk spreading across his face. “You may call me Corin.” He finished, leaning back against the table behind him again.
Corin reached behind, offering Harrison the same champagne flute he offered Ilyas.
”It seems you both could use a drink this night.” Corin’s laughter escaped him as he looked upon the two men, clear frustration etched into the wrinkles on their faces. “Pray, tell me, shall every event this season be filled with such exhaustive matters?” Corin pulled his own flask back out, taking a small sip as to mimic joining them in their drinks. It was a Korean custom to not only offer drinks to the eldest first, but to never drink alone, so, despite his sobriety, Corin feigned a drink alongside his newest acquaintance.
“What lady draws such a look of aggravation upon your features, Lord Davis?” Corin looked back out at the crowded ballroom again, his fingers thumping themselves along the side of his flask. Perhaps the tea was, indeed, helpful.
mentioned:
Harrison (@Kristi)
Ilyas (@Madilfill)