Fail ((invite only))

[Levi DAmico]

Levi D’Amico: Levi smirked. “If they did, they wouldn’t for long ‘coz I would have drank it.” He returned to his chair beside the pain, putting the bottles of mini vodka and gin. There had been some sodas in there, but Levi neglected them; too used to having his alcohol straight up.

Isabeau St Martin: "You better share with me!" she said, eyeing the other liquors, she wasn't a big fan of either, but liquor is liquor.

Levi D’Amico: “Trust me, I make no claims on these fuckers,” he said, taking his eyes off the small bottles. Gin was too dry for him and vodka gave him nightmares, so he always felt he was better off not drinking them if he wasn’t desperate.

Isabeau St Martin: "I meant the whiskey," she said with a smirk. "I'll just take it from your mouth if I have to," she threatened, and then looked to the vodka. "That **** is like drinking kerosene."

Levi D’Amico: He couldn’t disagree there and didn’t notice himself nodding in agreement. “You want me to order a bottle of whisky?” he asked. “They should be up with your dinner eventually. I can ask then.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Only if you want, you've done and spent enough on me," she said as she reached for the gin and opened it, downing it quick but still making a face. "Gah..." she said as she smacked her tongue in her mouth with that clear dryness that followed. "Hotel liquor is worse than dive bar liquor."

Levi D’Amico: “That’s because gin is like drinking paint thinner,” he grumbled. “Actually, their Scotch ain’t bad here. I guess you can try some.”

Isabeau St Martin: She snorted a little at the paint thinner thing. Bo had tasted paint thinner with better flavor. "I don't mind scotch... I favor the darker liquors... Whiskey, rum, scotch. Tequila if there is nothing better."

Levi D’Amico: Levi’s features remained steady as she laughed and remained so when she kind of disrespected his favourite liquor. When she started to list her preferred choices, however, he came to realise that she’d put Scotch in that list so now he was frowning because he was confused. Still, he wasn’t going to make a point of saying anything. “D’you like wine at all?” he asked, but he assumed she had to. It was practically a birth right to drink wine as a French girl.

Isabeau St Martin: "Reds I can take, depends on the meal I'm eating really, but I'm more of a hard liquor girl," she said with a smirk, of course she doubted he knew the joke that was making her smile so sinfully, but then, he didn't strike her as a jokes kind of guy.

Levi D’Amico: Levi nodded quietly, unaware of whatever joke she was sniggering about. He was a grumpy ********, that was true, but he could be a funny ******** too given the right crowd. Wine didn't really suit Levi, but wine has a certain affluence and reputation to it. Wine, particularly red wine, has the marks of money and influence. Wine is the drink of power. Levi had always found it too sweet, but he drank it publically along with its bubbling, sugary counterpart champagne when he had to. Levi was a Whisky drinker because Whisky was the drink of rage. When he heard the door knock, he got up spritely and moved toward the door in a purposeful march. He threw open the door on the second round of knocking, catching the woman on the other side of the door off-guard. She bowed her head a little and spoke like a mouse, apologising and offering the cart. Levi didn’t let her in though and told her to go back downstairs and fetch a bottle of whisky. She nodded feverishly, what choice did she have, and then disappeared back down the corridor whence she came. Levi had snatched the plate off the cart by then and brought it to Isabeau. “You wanna eat on the bed or…?” he asked, hovering in front of her. It was probably easier if she didn’t move, but, he had to give her the option.

Isabeau St Martin:She nodded. "Sure, moving seems stupid at the moment." She held out her hands to take the plate from him, not wanting him to feel like he had to serve her completely by setting it down for her.

Levi D’Amico: The Italian shrugged his shoulders, but it wasn’t like he disagreed with her. When she reached for the plate, he gave it to her, happy to hand off the burden of being so helpful and so damn nice. Still, he has to return to the cart to fetch her the cutlery. Once he’s got the knife and fork in hand, he slams the door a little too forcefully and returns to Isabeau. “Here,” he said, passing her the cutlery – cutting end first. He waits for her to take it before returning to his chair. It’s not as comfortable as the throne in his office and he wonders how much of that is because of the structure of the chair or just the feeling of servitude ringing within him. He doesn’t feel like a king anymore, how could he possibly be comfortable with that?

Isabeau St Martin: She set the plate on the bed in front of her and then gave a little start as he slammed the door. Clearly he was disgruntled about something, probably having to take care of her. Something he didn't have to do. When he offered her the knife she took it, not caring that he had handed it to her wrong. "You know, that is very dangerous... And you wouldn't have to have got that had you not restricted me to this bed," she said in a deadpan voice though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. She started to munch on the steak, moaning quietly at the taste of it.

Levi D’Amico: He just frowned at her as she talked at him. He didn’t understand what she was on about and he was pretty tired of trying to figure things out. As Isabeau started to eat, Levi disappeared into his own head. One hand was propped up on the armrest, his hand leaning in to support his chin. Umber eyes, glazed and dull, stared into the centre of the room.

Isabeau St Martin: As she ate, Bo was glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes, but for the most part, she just concentrated on the food and the silence in the room. It actually didn't bother her, but she knew she would have to get him talking eventually. When she was finished, she set the plate aside and gently moved herself so she could lean against the headboard, quietly hissing at the pain but trying not to show it on her face.

Levi D’Amico: Levi wasn’t really aware of Isabeau until the door knocked again. He looked to her, noticing that she’d finished her meal, and then he got up and headed for the door. Opening it with one quick movement, he found the young girl presenting a bottle of whisky as he’d commanded. He took the bottle, grumbled a thank you, then shut the door in her face. Levi was sure he could practically hear the whimper through the wood, but then he was probably imagining it. The thought alone, however, put something of a spring in his step as he moved to the dresser first, just above the mini bar, and put the bottle down. Levi then turned to Isabeau and fetched the plate off the bed, looking her over ever so briefly before putting the plate down on the dresser where there was space. “Looks like you’re ready for that drink now,” he smirked, screwing the cap off the whisky then looking for a glass.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo glanced back to him as he looked to her when there was the knock on the door. She watched, mildly amused at how he handled the woman behind the door, slamming said door in her face. And then he spoke to her. "**** yes!" she breathed out, watching him look for a glass. "I say **** the glasses, I don't have cooties," she said with a smirk.

Levi D’Amico: Levi gave her a glance over his shoulder, something like confusion registering in his features before acceptance took over. He took hold of the neck of the bottle then walked back to his chair. A gentleman might have passed her the drink first, but, Levi never really considered himself a gentleman. He rather doubted she would be surprised either as he took a swig directly from the bottle. Glasses were better, but, this would work just fine. Happy with the burn down his throat, he leant forward to hand her the bottle.

Isabeau St Martin: She wasn't shocked that he was a greedy ********, but at the same time, he paid for it, so he had a right to be. She watched him take a swig and then as he lent to hand it to her, she did as well. However, the movement made her take a sharp inhale in pain. Still, she took hold of the bottle and nodded a thanks to him before lifting the bottle to her lips. Bo let some of the smooth liquor slip down her throat, tilting her head back a little as she did.

Levi D’Amico: There was little more to do than sit back and wait for the haze of booze to come over her, put her to sleep. He figured that would be the best thing to come out of this evening now. She’d be fine, she just needed to sleep it off. By the time she’d fall asleep, he’d be out of there too. It wasn’t that he had plans to be elsewhere – not that Lorelai would be happy if he didn’t visit – it just felt weird to stay with her. Levi settled into his seat as she sat on the bed, cuddling the bottle. She didn’t need to share, whatever… Though, if she offered it to him, he would have declined.

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced over to him for a moment. "I think if you want more of this, you're going to have to join me on the bed, moving hurts at the moment," she said, taking another swig before, shaking the bottle at him in a playful manner.

Levi D’Amico: An arched brow and a smirk signalled his amusement and he sat back giving her proposal, or rather her joke, some serious consideration. This chair wasn’t that comfortable, he admitted, and while it would maybe be weird to lie on the bed next to her, he didn’t think it would be more weird than he was uncomfortable sitting here. Levi sighed and pushed himself out of the chair. He had to walk around the bed to get to the other side, but he didn’t sit down right away. Sitting on a chair with a suit on was fine, doable, but lying on a bed with one was not. He took his jacket off, revealing the guns he was carrying; the Beretta on his left, the BMP on his right in a black leather pair of shoulder holsters. These were better removed as well, so he unbuckled them, kicking the pair of guns under the bed – out of sight, out of mind. Once he was unarmed, he took his place on the left-hand side of the bed next to Isabeau, back against the headboard and legs out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankle.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo arched her brow in a mild bit of shock that he was taking her up on her idea. However she relaxed back after a moment and watched him curiously, as his jacket came off she eyed the guns, smirking a bit. Once those too were stripped away and on the floor, she felt his weight join her on the bed. She took a long swig and then held the bottle to him. "Nice guns you have there," she said with an amused tone.

Levi D’Amico: “Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle from her. “They were my dad’s.” He takes a drink then hands the bottle back before swallowing the mouthful of fire that sinks into his heart.

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded a bit at his small reveal. "I was talking about these," she poked his arm playfully, "but the Beretta is a good gun as well," she smirked, then added, "kidding, but quite sentimental aren't you?" she asked with a bit of seriousness in her voice.

Levi D’Amico: Levi actually found himself smirking effortlessly at her little joke. Umber eyes flicked across to her, something endearing showing in their murk, and then he sighed and looked back at the blank face of the LED screen high up on the wall. “Not really,” he said, feeling like he was bursting her bubble somewhat. “I kinda just took em to piss him off.”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow and then smiled and nodded to him. "Well, whatever works I guess... If he isn't going to use them, you might as well," she said and then turned her gaze to the blank screen as well.

Levi D’Amico: Levi looked across to her seriously for a moment. It wasn’t that his father couldn’t do with them, he just couldn’t get his hands on them being locked up. It was probably killing the man to know that his ******** of a son had his guns too, which made Levi smirk to himself. “The Beretta is a good piece,” he began idly. “It’s reliable, has good power, recoil’s alright. It’s the other one that’s a bit of a pain in the ***. But, they come as a pair, so…” He shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing, like this whole conversation was pretty standard. For him, it kind of was, but even though Isabeau had confessed herself to be a petty criminal, he still thought she should have been a bit more surprised than she was when he revealed his was packing heat.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo nodded as he spoke about the guns, giving his opinion on the two different guns and then telling her they come as a pair. She smirked a little and reached for the whiskey, her fingers brushing over his a little as she gripped the neck of the bottle, not taking it, but silently letting him know she wanted some. "I'm more a SIG-Sauer P230 kind of girl, small but has some bite to it," she said with a small smirk, watching to see if he would relinquish the bottle.

Levi D’Amico: Umber eyes regarded the hand near his on the neck of the bottle, though why she didn’t just take it was beyond him. “Small gun for small hands, huh,” he said with a grin. “You a good enough shot then?” he asked.

Isabeau St Martin: She took the bottle and glanced at him, bringing the bottle to her mouth, taking more on the whiskey, letting it slide down her throat before she gave a shrug. "More like easier to hide in cargo pants than an Uzi. But I'm good..." she said, smirking as she added, "for a girl." Then she took yet another swig of the liquor. It was warming her insides and relaxing her as well. "But you would be surprised what my small hands could handle," she said with a playful hint in her voice.

Levi D’Amico: At her last comment, Levi smirked, shaking his head. She was like a walking innuendo, that or she just encouraged the worst thoughts about herself. He was hardly the one to keep his head in the gutter – weird but true – so it was definitely something she brought out of him. It amused him to completely change the subject... ish. “Well, yeah, you get your hands on big parts now and again I figure. You know, fixing cars.”

Isabeau St Martin: She gave a nod and a small shrug. "Yeah, I do, you should see the magic I can do on a drive shaft," she said, taking another drink before handing it back to him. "I'm just good with my hands, I like fixing things," she said, her other hand subconsciously rubbing her leg, the movement slightly pushing the blanket down her body.

Levi D’Amico: “So you tell me every time we chat,” he said, mocking her a bit. “I guess that’s one way to make me remember. Tell me over and over and over again and even this dumb ******** will figure it out.” At that he took the bottle from her and threw back another mouthful of the whisky. Umber eyes unconsciously following the movement in his peripherals and before he knew it he was looking at the lower half of her. “Leg still bothering ya?” he asked lazily.

Isabeau St Martin: "If you're dumb, than I'm the queen of England... I may not know you that well but I..." She looked down at where she was rubbing her leg. "I guess it is, just haven't been paying attention to it till now,” she said as she forced her hand away from her leg and looked back to him.

Levi D’Amico: A sour look crossed the Italian’s features and he nudged her with the bottle. “Well you can’t go to a hospital so you might as well drink up.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and took the bottle, taking another long swig of the liquor, letting its sweet burn slowly move down her throat. "I drink anymore and the bullet wound won't be the only thing to be forgotten. You’re likely to get jumped if I drink too much," she said with a smirk.

Levi D’Amico: “Why’s that, you gonna forget you have sense?” he said smirking. “Don’t worry. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. Especially against a girl with small hands.”

Isabeau St Martin: She laughed a bit and nodded. "Yes, and yes, I'm sure you are a big boy."

Levi D’Amico: He half expected her eyes to drift south and then for her head to join her eyes, leaving her plummeting into the mattress and into a long sleep. She didn’t though, suggesting she wasn’t that drunk yet. She must have been getting there to let that small comment slip though and Levi rolled his eyes, smirking.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo handed him the bottle and smirked a bit before she pushed the blanket off of her. The liquor always did make being covered a pain... It warmed her body so that she felt heated and needed to cool down. "What are you smirking at?" she asked, not in a mean way, but in a curious way that made her sound sweeter, younger... Not the cold hearted ***** she tried to be.

Levi D’Amico: When she pushed herself out of the covers, Levi looked her over; force of habit. Mostly because he was a predator and the slightest movement would catch his eye and partly because he was worried that she might have a temperature. That was like the worst possible scenario for her. He let the thought drift back into his mind when she asked him why he was smirking, her voice curious like a child’s. “You,” he answered curtly, though it didn’t sound as aggressive as it might have done. His voice had softened a little and it was generally low in volume, coming across as something of a whisper.

[Isabeau Valachi]

Isabeau St Martin: Her brow arched for a moment as she looked at him, "Why?" She had that curious tone in her voice, stretching out her legs then grunting a little as the pain finally registered a bit, but it wasn't bad now that she was feeling the effects of the whiskey.

Levi D’Amico:Levi gave his shoulders a slow roll. “Just am,” he said. Umber eyes were still on her, their focus lingering on her leg. He probably should have given her something for the pain, but he didn’t carry medicine on him and she sure as **** wouldn’t be able to take it now. She’d just have to be a strong girl and he’d just have to try and distract her. “So remind me where you grew up, how that **** was.” It was the best he could do.

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced over at him and smirked as she raised her brow to his question. Still, she shrugged a bit as she answered. "As far as I know, I was born here. I know I was raised here by my mother. I never knew my father, so basically did what I had to do to survive this nutsy place. The people here have a screw loose I'm sure. But otherwise, I can't complain. I live how I want to live and for the most part no one bothers me... Except for those ******* cops." She stretched again and then turned to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

Levi D’Amico: The least he could do was look her in the eye as she talked, so his attention lifted from her bare legs and thighs up to her face. She had something of a sad story, one he’d heard a thousand times before and it had hardened him enough to make him respond with a shrug. Still, he felt the need to offer her some advice. “Well, if you quit being so bold about your ****, they won’t need to chase you.”

Isabeau St Martin: She slowly stood, raising her hands over her head, the movement making her shirt lift some, revealing her lower back. By this time the pain was a dull throb thanks to the liquor, and the cool air of the room cooled her skin. She looked over her shoulder to him as she continued to stretch her arms over her head and said. "I guess you're right, but nothing wrong with boldness sometimes..." she said with a smirk.

Levi D’Amico: As she started to get up, Levi frowned, eyes flaring as he looked her over. “Where you going?” he growled.

Isabeau St Martin: She looked back at him. “You know, you're kinda sexy when you do that. As for where... I'm going to take a shower."

Levi D’Amico: The frown was knitted to his features. As far as he was concerned, she should not be up and wandering about like that. Just because she couldn’t feel it, didn’t mean she wasn’t injuring herself. Levi got up off the bed pretty quickly, moving around the bed and grabbing her around the waist with one arm, encouraging her to lean on him. “You’re only standing coz you’re drunk. You ain’t healed so you’ve gotta be more careful,” he continued to growl low into her ear. “Don’t even know why you need a ******* shower.”

Isabeau St Martin: Bo gasped a bit as she suddenly found herself in his grasp. "Damn you're fast..." she said, looking up at him, leaning away from him at one point and pressing into him at another. "I'm being careful..." she said, her accent thickening up a bit as she continued to both push away and lean against him at the same time. "I'm hot, sweaty, and covered in grease and oil... That's why," she said back in an odd mix of cheer and anger, as if her mind couldn't make up if she wanted to be angry or tipsy.

Levi D’Amico: There wasn’t a plan exactly other than get her to the bathroom. He knew that the hotel had a bath and shower unit set up so he was hoping she would opt for the former rather than to stand on that leg. Still, bathing at all was going to be awkward. He didn’t want to have to get involved in that process, so he would at least get her in the bathroom and sit her on the toilet. “Whatever,” he grumbled under his breath, dragging her slowly into the tiled room that was still lit up from earlier. The mirror directly above the sink was a problem for him, but he made sure to obscure her view with the bulk of his frame. By the time he’d sit her arse down on the toilet seat, she wouldn’t have been able to see **** all but the ceiling anyway. “I recommend a bath though, if you’ve gotta clean up,” he offered. “You can’t be standing on that, you’ll feel even worse tomorrow if you do.”

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow as he helped her into the bathroom and then was sitting her on the toilet next to the tub. The tub did look nice, the kind with jets that hit you in all the right places, but she doubted that would feel good against her leg. Then again, she doubted sitting in water with all kinds of grime would be good for her leg either. She sighed and looked up at him. "Both aren't really good for me sadly... But it's just so warm now... Liquor does that to me," she said as she looked to the tub then the shower. Isn't there a bench in that shower? I mean hell, looks like it could hold you, me and three others in there," she said with a bit of a laugh.

Levi D’Amico: Levi frowned and checked in the shower-bath unit for a clue, but he didn’t see any stools. This was one of those rich hotels, but it didn’t exactly cater for geriatrics who needed to sit down in the bath. Levi sighed angrily, there just didn’t seem to be any solution here but for her to sit down and have the shower running down her. He gave her a stark look. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re probably gonna have to sit under the spray like you’re taking a bath. Can you handle that?”

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced to the shower and then to him, her brow arched slightly. One part of her wanted to deck him, the other knew that he was right that she shouldn't be doing this. Bo licked her lips and then sighed. "Yeah, I can handle that... Are you planning to watch?" she asked with mild amusement, shocked that he hadn't bolted yet.

Levi D’Amico: It hadn’t really occurred to him that he should be high-tailing out of there so soon after dropping her arse on the toilet seat. A brow cocked at her little comment, at her tone and he breathed a harsh huff through his nose and backed away from her. “Not even if you wanted me to,” he growled, turning and heading back to the bedroom. He might have left her to struggle to close the door, but he managed to hold onto enough compassion to close it sharply behind him. Levi stomped into the room, sat himself down on the chair and decided to wait.

Isabeau St Martin: She arched her brow as he did eventually bolt, jerking a little as he slammed the door shut behind him. What neither of them noticed was that the door, though slammed shut, hadn't had enough time to latch. She sighed and slowly eased back to her feet, turning on the water and shower head to let the water hit the right temp while she eased out of her tank top and the last bit of fabric that covered her. She hadn't noticed as she stepped into the shower, pulling the frosted but semi sheer curtain closed that the air flow pulled the door open just a slight inch. Though she should have sat down, she didn't, she just leaned against the wall letting the water stream down her curves.

Levi D’Amico: Staring into the centre of the room and dwelling on immediate past events did little to ease his sudden hot temper. He didn’t know exactly what he’d done to piss Isabeau off, but she seemed like she wanted him out of there immediately. He growled at the thought, umber eyes focusing on the bottle of neglected whisky on the bed. It was a ******* miracle that none had spilled into the sheets. He pushed himself out of the seat, grabbed the bottle then sat it down with a thud on the bedside cabinet. He was about to retrace his steps and sit back down, but he didn’t know how long Isabeau was going to be or how long he could sit there stewing without punching something. He walked around the bed to fetch his phone from his jacket pocket, on his return journey, he noticed the bathroom door was ajar.

Isabeau St Martin: She eased herself away from the wall and took hold of a wash cloth, the cool water was soothing her heated skin. She did however, once the water had cooled her, waking her up a bit from her alcohol haze, though she knew she was still feeling it. This was the bad thing about drinking, it heated her, making her want to do things that cooled her off, but the cooling water was reminding her of the pain in her leg. She made quick work of cleaning herself off of sweat, blood, and grease. Once she felt better, she shut off the water and eased out of the shower. Only 15 minutes after he helped her in, she was pulling the door open, a towel wrapped around her body, her long hair still dripping a little, sending rivulets of water beads down towards the towel. She glanced at him and nodded, slowly making her way to the bed, using whatever she could lean against as a brace.

Levi D’Amico: Levi didn’t know why the door had opened, but if she saw it, she’d probably accuse him of perving on her while she was in the shower. Like he had nothing better to do than watch some ***** shower. Growling to himself still, Levi stomped over to the bathroom, pulling the door shut slowly and quietly until he heard the latch catch. Assured the door was secure, he sat back down in his less-than-adequate throne and turned his attention back to work. In the fifteen minutes that Isabeau was in the shower, Levi had managed to answer two-dozen emails; most of which were to the Shark who was apparently still awake at 1 in the morning. Levi checked the time when Isabeau happened to rock past, dripping and limping with each step. Levi sighed and tucked his phone in his trouser pocket before addressing her. “Feeling better?” he rumbled.

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced up at him and nodded. "Yes, I do... Thank you for asking..." she said, moving over to him and taking the whisky from him just long enough to take a sip. Then she was handing it back to him with a nod of thanks and limped over to the bed. However, she lost her balance at that time and toppled onto the bed, yelping a little as she landed on her wound. "****..." she breathed out.

Levi D’Amico: When Isabeau hit the mattress, seething with pain, Levi rolled his eyes and sighed. It wasn’t nice to do so, but then again, he’d never claimed to be nice. Besides that, he was pretty sure he had reached his quota for being nice for a freaking century. Levi got up, putting the whisky she’d handed him back down on the bedside cabinet again, then he approached her from behind. He looked over at her awkward form sprawled out on the bed like that, his head canting like he was looking at how best to solve a riddle. Without any warning though, Levi scooped her up just barely off the bed, turning her toward him so she’d level out. Once she was at the right angle again, Levi carefully let her down onto the sheets. “You’ve gotta start being more careful,” he said gruffly, walking around the bed again, to the other side, out of hitting range.

Isabeau St Martin: She tensed just slightly as he scooped her up but didn't really have time to react before he was setting her down and walking off, guessing she would hit him for touching her. Her towel had opened slightly, showing the dragon tattoo that was on her hip and the way the tail wrapped around her thigh but nothing else. She left it, not caring if he looked. "Would you be acting like a porcelain doll if someone shot you?" she asked with a smirk, she could guess he was the kind of guy that didn't get 'careful' after being shot.

Levi D’Amico: “No,” he growled, watching her from the other side of the room. “But then I’m not a *****, so… Just chill the **** out and get some rest.” His bark was a lot worse than his bite in this case, which was normally not how it went with him. Levi, even when pissed off, was always quiet. He didn’t have to raise his voice to get things done or intimidate people. Not that he was trying to scare her exactly, but she had been shot in the leg and all he could do was stitch her back together, feed her and get her drunk to make **** better. He was a lot of things, but a surgeon he sure as **** wasn’t. He didn’t want to be responsible for her pain or her death, so he wanted her to know how serious all this **** was.

Isabeau St Martin: "Look who's talking, ****..." she said with fire in her eyes, even if she was literally in no position or condition to fight. Still, he had a stick up his *** ever since she had joked about watching her in the shower. She then sighed and just lay back against the headboard, still using one arm to hold the small towel around her frame, not taking her eyes off his, she wouldn't let him intimidate her.

Levi D’Amico: Levi had to grit his teeth to stop a torrent of vicious words from slipping out. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if they started fighting, but then, he had to convince himself that he wasn’t conceding a defeat either before he’d shut his trap and take his own advice about chilling out. Well, that worked out nicely. Levi sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “There’s nothing wrong with being careful,” he said in a low, quiet voice.

Isabeau St Martin: She watched as he sat on the edge of the bed. Though she was tempted to sit up, place a hand on his shoulder, she didn't. She stayed put like he wanted her to do. "I know... But don't you think I would know the limits of my own body? What it could and couldn't take? And don't you think it's on me... Not you... If I do something that makes it hurt more the next day? You've been a god send tonight Levi, but I am a big girl..." she said in a soft tone, trying to keep it kind and filling it with the appreciation she felt for his help.

Levi D’Amico: Once she was done talking at him, he’d softened enough to just shrug a shoulder before lying back in the more comfortable position of before.

Isabeau St Martin: She sighed a little as he relaxed back and then looked down at herself, her fingers lightly tracing the wound on her thigh.

Levi D’Amico: He tried not to watch her for a while. His focus drifted off into the room tying itself to several points unsuccessfully before umber eyes looked back at Isabeau. She wasn’t trying too hard to cover herself with that tower, which, admittedly, was distracting. He caught the glimpse of the dragon tattoo, or rather, its tail winding down her thigh and then his eyes broke over to the wound. Slender fingers traced the blushing outline of the lesion almost tentatively, but Levi wondered how much of it was due to pain and how much to vanity. Isabeau obviously did a lot to make sure she was attractive, so maybe this ugly scar was going to get to her. Levi looked across at her features trying to register the emotion there, but he couldn’t quite get a fix for it. So, he had to be the gentleman here and ask. “You ok?”

Isabeau St Martin: She was still looking at the wound, her fingers still tracing it without touching it when Levi spoke and pulled her attention back to him. "Yeah, just one more scar added to the list," she said with a soft laugh and then looked back to it. "You did a good job though on it, it will be one of my more barely noticeable ones," she said, adding a smirk in his direction.

Levi D’Amico: Levi watched her features as she spoke, catching blue eyes when she looked to him – however briefly. When she mentioned his sewing technique, he just rolled his shoulder, glancing at her wound. “If it bothers you, just turn it into a tattoo,” he offered. “Seen women do that a lot.”

Isabeau St Martin: She laughed a bit and looked back to him. "I think I have enough tattoos, don't you think? Plus it doesn't bother me... Not the idea of the scar at least. It's just throbbing a little," she said with a shrug before leaning back against the headboard.

[Levi DAmico]

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders at her comment about tattoos. He didn’t know exactly how many she had and it was to each their own when it came to tattoos. Levi was probably one of the only capos alive that weren’t inked up and that was because he couldn’t think of anything he would want marking his skin for all eternity. Besides that, he had scars which told stories about his life so he didn’t need any other form of art. As Isabeau sat back against the headboard, Levi looked past her to the whisky still on the bedside cabinet. “Drink more then,” he said dully. He was running out of words for her.

Isabeau St Martin: She glanced over to the bottle of Whisky when he told her she should drink more because of the throb in her leg and smirked as she looked back at him. "I think I'm drunk enough... Or are you trying to see what happens when I get really drunk?" she said with a teasing tone, reaching for the bottle and handing it over to him.

Levi D’Amico: “Not if you’re gonna piss your pants, I ain’t,” he said with a smirk, leaning an arm toward her and making a gesture for him to pass her the bottle.

Isabeau St Martin: "One, I'm not wearing pants to piss even if I did, two, do I look like a toddler?" she asked with a smart *** smirk, shaking her head at his gesture. "But if I get any more liquor in me, I'm likely to continue from the lobby," she threatened with a smirk.

Levi D’Amico: “You kinda act like a toddler,” he managed to slip in before her comment about the lobby. He wondered if she’d heard him and he gestured again for the bottle. “You gonna pass me the bottle or what?”

Isabeau St Martin: She had heard the toddler comment and was not contemplating keeping the bottle, but that would have been giving him the satisfaction of being right so she smiled sweetly to him and handed it over. "Of course," she said with a sweet voice.

Levi D’Amico: Umber eyes narrowed as the whisky was exchanged. If he’d made a comment like that to a certain shark, he’d be struck in the rib cage by an undercutting ninja fist. When no blows came his way, Levi took the bottle from her, threw back a mouthful of liquefied rage, then set it on the cabinet to his left. Isabeau said she didn’t want to drink anymore after all.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo watched as he downed more of the whisky and as she did, her leg shifted a little, causing the towel to shift as well, revealing her curved hip and a hint of her toned stomach.

Levi D’Amico: As the alcohol melted into him, Levi drew a hand across his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows. He could feel his body throbbing from the booze already, like a heavy heart beat. The idea making him question again if he had one. Typically you’d think no, but, Levi had a basic idea of how the body worked and the circulatory system was pretty much at the heart of everything. So if he had a pulse, it was a weak one unless stimulating by adrenaline, drugs or alcohol. Levi sighed, dropping his hand, glancing across at Isabeau just in case he’d passed out in those short moments. He wasn’t that drunk, barely even tipsy, but weird **** had been known to happen. He couldn’t help but notice how her towel was covering her less and less by each passing motion and that Isabeau didn’t seem to notice, or to care. Feeling a little flustered, he got up from the bed and reached for his jacket. “I need a smoke. You?” he asked, taking the lighter and packet of Marlboro out of his pocket. The window opened just a crack, as he’d remembered, so they could both smoke out there.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo glanced to the bottle of whisky and smirked a bit. "I'm shocked that you won't go up in flames with how much liquor you have in your system," she teased, sitting up and slowly getting up from the bed so that she could walk over to the window, leaning against its frame as she looked to the pack. "I could use one though, I think," she said, relaxing a little as the cool night air brushed along her naked form, despite the towel wrapped around her like a mini dress, the one corner lifting a little in the breeze.

Levi D’Amico: Levi smirked with her about going up in flames, but he had to correct her. Had to. “I ain’t drank that much,” he managed to get in before she agreed to have a smoke with him. He made his way back to the bed and toward the window between the wall and the bathroom door. The room was a weird shape. He opened the window as far as it would go, lighting up one cigarette and then the other, expecting Isabeau to approach him and take it. She could lean against the window frame to take the weight off her leg. “And for the record, I only go up in flames when I enter churches anyway,” he said with a light laugh.

Isabeau St Martin: She leaned in to take a cigarette he had lit for her with a nod of thanks, leaning back against the frame again, lifting it to her lips and inhaling. Then he was joking with her and she laughed a bit, shaking her head as she pulled the cig away and blew the smoke out the window. "What, are you a witch? Or what is the male equivalent? Warlock? Wizard?" She smirked and lifted the cig to her lips once more as a breeze brushed against her again, catching the edge of her towel and lifting it to flash the dragon tattoo again.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged his shoulders, focusing on the sweet hit of nicotine and then the satisfying exhale. “Dunno about that, I’m just not a very devout Jew by any stretch of the word,” he said; umber eyes strictly on the city lights beyond their window.

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked a bit and then turned to look at the city as well. "I doubt a lack of devotion would have you exploding into a big ball of flames. But we could always test the theory," she teased as she looked back at him. "But then, if I was devout anything I'm sure I would be going to hell for a lot of the things I have done... And some of the things I fantasize about doing," she said with a sinful smirk, bringing the cig to her lips once more and inhaling deeply.

Levi D’Amico: Levi was staring through the open gap in the window where a Milky Way of city lights winked at them. The city wasn’t too dull by night, provided you didn’t walk its streets because that was when things got more weird and frustrating than particularly interesting. Levi didn’t have much to comment on about her misunderstanding of his supposed faith, after all, just disagreeing that God was… well… God, was basically heresy and Levi questioned God’s existence all the damn time. He concentrated on his cigarette instead, but he did comment on her next reveal of information. “Oh yeah?” he said, turning to her with a wry grin and a quirked brow. “Like what exactly?”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked, stepping in close to him, lifting her hand that held her cig, being careful not to touch it against him even as she pressed her hand to his chest and looked up at him through her long dark lashes. "Well, finding some good looking guy, dragging him into the confession booth and well..." She leaned in closer, whispering to him, "forgive me father... For I have sinned," she purred before she patted him on the chest and smirked.

Levi D’Amico: Umber eyes watched her suspiciously, though slightly intrigued as she moved toward him; a warm hand coming to rest on his chest. As Isabeau talked, Levi just listened, holding her gaze. He smirked alongside her then, rolling his eyes lightly and then leaning his head away to inhale then expel a long stream of smoke through the gap in the window. Once he was looking back at her, he said, “Yeah, you’re definitely going to hell.”

Isabeau St Martin: She nodded and stepped back, smirking still. "Extra points if I can lead many into temptation," she said with a laugh before taking a long drag from the cig.

Levi D’Amico: Levi nodded immediately, keeping his eyes on her for the most part as he finished his cigarette and chucked the butt out of the window. Exhaling the last breath of smoke out there as well, Levi looked back at her with a grin. “So, he keeping a seat warm for you if you convert enough people to the dark side? It works one way, I figure it’s gotta work the other.”

Isabeau St Martin: She smirked as she too finished her cig, doing as he did with the butt before relaxing into the frame a bit more. "Oh, the moment I die he knows to get his *** off my throne," she said with a smirk.

Levi D’Amico: Levi let out an uncharacteristic laugh and he stepped away from the window shaking his head.

Isabeau St Martin: She watched him, smiling. "What? Don't believe me?" she asked as she pushed away from the window, not noticing that a small part of it had caught on a snag in the frame. Her moving away was enough to pull the towel free from her body.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged, still having his back to her as he made his way back to his jacket and put his lighter away. “No, no, I’m sure you think that he would,” he said idly. “I just don’t think—” Levi’s words cut off and his eyebrow raised at the sight of Isabeau stepped forward, her towel ripping from her body. He probably stared a little longer than he should have before he turned his head away.

Isabeau St Martin: She stood there, clearly not the kind of girl to freak about covering up. A bit of amusement in her eyes because she had notice the fact that he had stared at her longer than most would deem 'respectable' before turning his gaze from her. She limped into the bathroom and after a moment reappeared in her tank top and panties again. Then she headed for the bed and once again sat down so she could rest her leg a little.

Levi D’Amico: By the time he’d turned his gaze, he’d forgotten what the hell he was talking about so didn’t bother to retrace his steps when she’d come out of the bathroom semi-clothed. She made for the bed, dragging her aching leg up on it to finally relax and Levi let loose a sigh before he sat back down again.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo watched him for a moment before she turned her eyes towards her pants, her eyes locked on the blood stains there. Her hand gently rubbed her leg near the wound while she did.

Levi D’Amico: Umber eyes were attracted to movement once again. He watched her rub her leg, the pain was clearly still bothering her, obliging him to talk again. He was running low on topics; he wasn’t used to being the one to start conversations, rather he was used to being talked to when all he wanted was to do his work or nap or drink or brood quietly. Levi heaved another sigh then sank himself down into the bed a bit, his head relaxing on the pillow, his umber eyes closing. “Oh, by the way,” he said dully, sounding like he was fighting back a yawn. “You can have the suite for the night. You need to lay low anyway.”

Isabeau St Martin: She turned her blue eyes on him, her brow arching a little as he made himself more comfortable on the bed. "Thank you..." she said softly and then looked back towards her pants. She was tempted to just get out a final time to get them... Put them back on... Clearly unused to a guy not wanting her for her body, despite her attitude. Instead, she shifted a little, laying back herself, then turning onto her side facing him because if she turned the other way she would be laying on the wound. "Sorry for all the trouble, by the way," she said in a soft voice, her eyes closing.

Levi D’Amico: Levi hummed at her at first, feeling less inclined to speak. He brought his arms up behind his head, fingers laced at the base of his skull. If not for the strain of his shirt, he might have been happy to sleep like that. “You already apologised and I already told you not to worry about it. I’ll just make you pay for it in a not so subtle way later,” he explained, keeping his face straight along with his tone.

Isabeau St Martin: "I sort of figured that would be coming," she said quietly, ignoring when some of her hair, still damp from the shower, fell over her face.

Levi D’Amico: “Well you know what they say, darling,” Levi rumbled, though something lighter picked his deep voice up a little. “Ain’t nothing free in this world.”

Isabeau St Martin: "It is if you steal it," she shot back quietly. "What's with all the pet names all of a sudden?" she asked as she opened one eye.

Levi D’Amico: Levi shrugged, which was difficult to do from his position, but it was a force of habit that transcended logic for him at that point. Even if the action wasn’t subtle, restrained by the taut shirt, she wouldn’t have seen it much anyway with only one eye on him. “Ain’t all of a sudden and I answered that question earlier when you brought up why I called you sweetheart.”

Isabeau St Martin: "Mhmm," she said softly. "I thought it may have changed..." she said and let her eyes close again, shifting just a little more, her head leaning in closer to him unconsciously.

Levi D’Amico: Levi frowned, watching her for a while as she started to settle in for the night. He didn’t quite understand her comment, but he wasn’t about to question her on it. He also wasn’t sure whether he should say anything at all and just let the silence take her to the land of nod. Since he did prefer the quiet, Levi gave a little shrug then closed his eyes again. He’d have a little break, maybe make a show that he was napping, and then once she’d fallen asleep, he would leave her to it. He still had **** to do tonight. Not work, but still, he had responsibilities.

Isabeau St Martin: Bo let out a soft sigh as she relaxed a bit more, starting to feel sleep wanting to take her. She shifted again, unconsciously resting her head against him.

Levi D’Amico: Maybe it wasn’t exactly kosher, but Levi was waiting for Isabeau to fall asleep before he would get up and leave the room, leave the hotel even. He’d paid for the room, to keep it for the night and he was content with letting her use it to lay low and heal. Levi had mentioned that much to her, though he hadn’t mentioned his intentions of breaking away in the middle of the night. But then again, did he really need to? They were just acquaintances and he was doing everything in his power to be nice to her. Since he couldn’t sleep – it being too early for the Vampiri – why shouldn’t he leave?

To Levi, falling asleep was usually like being caught in a carousel of thoughts. Every idea, every notion and every event from the day would replay in his mind, demanding analysis before he could be allowed rest. And then finally when the carousel came to a stop and his mind was able to meander freely in the random thought that was the precursor of sleep, Levi would realise that he was close to drifting off and start the carousel up all over again. True, restful sleep was a prancing unicorn with a leprechaun’s gold strapped to his saddle, wearing the winged shoes of Hermes and possessing a horn made of gold because some King had touched it once.

Isabeau seemed to have no such troubles in falling asleep, but then, she had been a bit drunk and no doubt the pain she was feeling and the blood she’d lost had gone some way to attributing to that. Levi waited about 30 minutes, enough time to listen to how her breathing changed her heart rate slowed. Once he was confident she was in deep, he slipped off the bed, collected his belongings and left the room. Maybe he would check in on her in a few days, just to see if that wound was healing.