If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
And perhaps that's why Cordelia hasn't tried pressing her luck. The incredibly clear boundaries that Hotaru has set in place from the beginning. Always respectful and kind to her. Never wasting her time. Which is also why Cordelia doesn't pay much mind to the way the woman's mismatched gaze roves over her from head to toe. They take in one of the few pairs of heels she owns, a pair of red bottoms that she found in a thrift store that she got for a steal thanks to an employee's mistake with pricing, and the little black dress that's seen better days. A small apron tied tightly around her slender waist to hold her notepad and pens. A simple uniform. One that Hotaru has seen her in every night this week.
Yet the woman looks her over like she's brand new.
Her breath catches in her throat at the reminder and she feels her cheeks flush, the wash of color travelling down her neck, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress. "Sorry, Ms. Kai-" She catches herself, bottom lip between her teeth at her fumble, "Sorry, Ru. It's a force of habit." Cordelia finally manages, reaching to clear her table, carefully placing the empty glass and dinner plate onto her tray. She stands there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do as her honeyed gaze follows Hotaru's hand, watching slender fingers pop the button of her blouse, revealing creamy skin and delicious cleavage. Her mind grinds to a halt and she barely hears what she says next.
The question catches her off guard, causing her to blink a few times before she's looking up at her with wide eyes, lips parting silently. There is a moment where it seems like she won't say anything. Simply too surprised to manage a word, but eventually her brain catches up and she clears her throat. "Yes ma'am. A little after one. I just have to help clean up and then I'm free to go home." And she doesn't let herself think it's anything more than simple curiosity. Small talk to be polite. Hotaru seems like the type who would ask those questions.
When do you get off? What do you do outside of work? Are you going to school? Surely they don't work you too hard, do they? All of these she's asked before in some way, shape or form, but tonight seems different. Maybe it's because when she walked up Hotaru had been lost in the rain outside or simply that it's late and she's tired. Whatever the reason, Cordelia refuses to let herself get her hopes up, knowing that tonight would end the way every night did. A long walk home to her little flat where nothing but a pitiful TV dinner and a cup of tea before bed waited for her.
Yet the woman looks her over like she's brand new.
Her breath catches in her throat at the reminder and she feels her cheeks flush, the wash of color travelling down her neck, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress. "Sorry, Ms. Kai-" She catches herself, bottom lip between her teeth at her fumble, "Sorry, Ru. It's a force of habit." Cordelia finally manages, reaching to clear her table, carefully placing the empty glass and dinner plate onto her tray. She stands there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do as her honeyed gaze follows Hotaru's hand, watching slender fingers pop the button of her blouse, revealing creamy skin and delicious cleavage. Her mind grinds to a halt and she barely hears what she says next.
The question catches her off guard, causing her to blink a few times before she's looking up at her with wide eyes, lips parting silently. There is a moment where it seems like she won't say anything. Simply too surprised to manage a word, but eventually her brain catches up and she clears her throat. "Yes ma'am. A little after one. I just have to help clean up and then I'm free to go home." And she doesn't let herself think it's anything more than simple curiosity. Small talk to be polite. Hotaru seems like the type who would ask those questions.
When do you get off? What do you do outside of work? Are you going to school? Surely they don't work you too hard, do they? All of these she's asked before in some way, shape or form, but tonight seems different. Maybe it's because when she walked up Hotaru had been lost in the rain outside or simply that it's late and she's tired. Whatever the reason, Cordelia refuses to let herself get her hopes up, knowing that tonight would end the way every night did. A long walk home to her little flat where nothing but a pitiful TV dinner and a cup of tea before bed waited for her.
Cordelia
