Chapter Text
Dorian cringed and covered his ears as shrieking kids ran up the steps to the museum. They moved by him like water flowing around a rock and he wondered again why he’d agreed to be a field trip chaperone.
When he caught sight of his little brother laughing with his friends, his doubts vanished.
Hollin was still struggling with their father’s death. And with their newly arrived uncle who’d stepped in to take over as CEO. Having grown the family business to a sprawling, multi-national company, their father had become a greedy bastard. Dorian supposed it was necessary to reach that level of success. Still, the man had treated his sons relatively well. If withholding affection and attention was treating your children well.
Uncle Perrington made Dorian Sr. look like father of the year material. Hollin was certainly no angel, but no kid deserved the verbal lashings Perrington dealt out.
Dorian had one more semester of school and then he’d take Hollin and leave. In the meantime, chaperoning his brother’s class trip to the museum was the least he could do.
A teacher started to form the kids into groups and Dorian peered through the revolving door to the main entrance. The building housed both a natural history museum and an art museum. As a fifth-year architecture student, he’d spent some time in the art wings, but had never ventured into the other side. All those bones and stuffed animals never appealed to him. The kids’ excitement was infectious though, and he found himself eager to get started.
Once within the towering entry hall, Dorian took his group aside to wait for a tour guide and then buried his head in a map of the building. When Hollin and his friends became suddenly and uncharacteristically quiet, he looked up to see what had caused it.
His eyes met those of the guide, and as one, their jaws dropped in awkward recognition.
*****
“Why can’t I buy you a beer?”
The dark-haired princeling seemed to have a problem with her getting her own drink. Even if Manon hadn’t known he was a Havilliard – probably a lesser known cousin or something – his clothes pegged him for a rich boy. Gray pants and a blazer - who the hell wore a blazer to go out on a Saturday night? - and short curls that looked too messy to be anything but carefully arranged. Some spoiled brat out with his friend, looking for cheap booze and easy hook-ups in the bad part of town.
She glanced over to where Asterin was holding his friend against the wall, kissing him while his hands groped her ass. With an annoyed sigh, she had to admit their plan seemed to be going well for one of them. Turning back, she found he’d moved his bar stool an inch or two closer to her.
People hitting on her was common, and something she usually dismissed with a look that was scary enough to send them running. Being hit on here though… It didn’t happen. Ever. Most of the bar’s customers were family or people she’d known half of her life, making them family all the same. That was probably why Asterin had practically launched herself at that guy. He was fresh blood.
Just like the princeling, Manon caught herself thinking.
The moment the two had walked in, his blue eyes were locked on her. Manon had turned away, not interested. But a little later she’d turned to see him smiling at some joke his friend had made. Which lead to her getting caught staring. Which lead to Asterin abandoning her for the tall blonde and opening the door for this discussion over who was buying the drinks.
“Because I said so.” His grin widened at the growl in her voice and Manon had to look away before she got thoroughly trapped in it. “Besides,” she returned the grin, adding a knife sharp edge all her own. “I’m not drinking tonight.” She surprised herself by almost telling him she had to work early the next day. But he didn’t need to know that.
“As it happens”, he said, reaching back to get his glass of soda,” neither am I. So let me amend my offer.” He made a show of looking her up and down. But not in a creepy way. It was thoughtful and a little exaggerated and she had to bite back a smile. “You look like a Shirley Temple kind of girl…”
“Oh my god,” Manon groaned, unable to keep from laughing. And before she could stop him, he was ordering one for her.
*****
It was her. The white-haired witch from that bar he’d never been able to find again.
Chaol had called her a witch after hearing about that night. How else to explain Dorian’s obsession to find her. Or Gavriel never shutting up about the blonde he’d hooked up with.
“You’re both idiots,” Chaol had said. Only to be smacked on the arm by his girlfriend.
“They’re bewitched,” Yrene said. “Not idiots. I think it’s romantic!”
Chaol just shook his head. “So those women were witches. That doesn’t mean these two,” he pointed at his roommates, “aren’t idiots.”
Dorian had tried to retrace their steps. He remembered the parking garage they’d parked in, but from there, he’d had no luck. Gavriel, too drunk that night to recall getting there, was useless in the search. But he helped, being just as eager as Dorian to find it and the blonde again.
And now, here she was. About to lead him and a bunch of kids on a tour of the museum.
“Manon.” When he looked up from her name tag and found her still staring at him, eyes blazing gold, he allowed himself one self-satisfied smirk. She’d insisted on no names that night. “I’m Dorian,” he said, enjoying the sight of her reddening cheeks. But then her eyes flashed wide for a second in understanding and he wished no one had ever heard of his family.
“Can we see the T-Rex or are we just gonna stare at each other all day?” one of the students yelled, causing the group to break out into laughs and a cheer of agreement.
Smoothing out her oversized museum shirt, Manon cleared her throat and began calling out rules for the tour. Dorian listened dutifully, trying to ignore the memories of that night playing through his mind.
*****
Alcohol would be the perfect excuse. But unfortunately, there was no excuse for the dancing. Manon was not someone who danced. Especially here, in her father’s bar.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. When they were teenagers, she and her gang of cousins and friends would sing and dance to whatever cheesy 80’s songs were still working on the old jukebox in the corner. But that wasn’t really dancing.
She’d never slow danced with someone before.
After an hour or two of flirting and laughing, and another god awful Shirley Temple, the princeling had convinced her to dance with him. What was she supposed to do when Asterin changed the song midway through? She couldn’t just walk away when the music slowed. That would be rude.
So here she was, dancing in the arms of a Havilliard while another slow song began, trying not to think about how good he smelled. Or felt. Or might taste.
Asterin and her blonde were dancing too, but not seriously. They were swirling each other around, paying no attention to the music. She always admired that ability of Asterin’s to just not give a fuck and have fun.
They’d both had a similarly shitty upbringing, so Manon often wondered why she was incapable of letting go like that. Then she’d remember how much more Asterin had suffered, remembered that it was as much a defense mechanism as anything. She of course had her own defenses as a result of growing up with their grandmother. Once they’d escaped, and she’d found her father, Manon had thought she’d let those walls down a bit.
Having her first slow dance at the age of 26 might be a sign that she hadn’t.
When the song ended, she looked up into gemstone eyes and decided she wanted to have some fun of her own.
“You want to get out of here?”
*****
This was a nightmare. Truly awful. She didn’t know how her day could get any worse. This was why she never did anything fun. This was how her luck worked. Of course the one guy she has anonymous sex with would show up at work for a goddamn tour with a bunch of kids.
And, I’m wearing the ugliest damn clothes I own, she thought miserably, leading the group up to the second floor.
The kids seemed to be enjoying themselves at least.
Manon was not overly fond of children. Usually they were fine. But more often than not, they had a way of seeing right through you and blurting out whatever secret they’d uncovered. Leading school groups was a price she was willing to pay for the experience and connections she was gaining at the museum. And she’d learned that if she kept talking, kept asking questions, kept them entertained… The next thing she knew, it was over.
This group was doing well, answering her questions, asking a lot of their own. It would have been perfect. If not for the princeling - basically a true prince she knew now - whose eyes followed her everywhere and saw every blush that crossed her cheeks and every glance she stole in his direction.
Directing them all into a room, she ignored Dorian as he passed her. After everyone was inside she began to talk about the displays of rocks and minerals lining the dark walls. This exhibit was one of her favorites because of the reactions it got. With the T-rex and triceratops skeletons just downstairs, people gasping at a bunch of rocks was always a highlight of giving a tour. The second she flipped off the main lights and hit a switch to activate the UV lights, the kids oohed and aahed at the brilliant reds and greens and blues of the fluorescent minerals. The UV moved from rock to rock, spotlighting each one in turn. Manon was supposed to name them as they were featured, but she usually didn’t, letting them just enjoy the show.
It was mostly dark, so she risked a glance towards Dorian. He was standing with a boy she assumed was his brother, even though they looked nothing alike. The smile he wore was reminiscent of the one that had ensnared her that night. A smile that seemed to come so easily, so often. A smile she didn’t think herself capable of. When he turned in her direction, she brought the lights back up and lead them to the next exhibit.
*****
Being Gavriel’s designated driver was never fun. It didn’t happen often since he rarely drank. But that was the problem. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and a heavyweight when it came to lugging his ass home. Chaol had once thrown out his back trying to help the guy up the stairs to their apartment.
So when they’d started the night with Chaol bowing out, and Gavriel needing to unwind from exams, Dorian was expecting an evening of babysitting and boredom. Even Gavriel’s insistence that they find bars in sections of the city they’d never been to before wasn’t enough to rouse his interest.
Until they’d found this place. Until he’d seen her. Standing at the bar in jeans and a sweater, her silvery white hair falling down her back in a messy braid. Blood red lips and black nails. The exact opposite of what most women he knew wore on a night out. And she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The thought had made him laugh. It was such a cliche. But even cliches could be true sometimes.
And now she was pulling him out a back door and down an alley.
Dorian was stone cold sober. So why did he feel like he was floating? Why was his brain buzzing and his heart pounding? She glanced back at him and smiled as she led him onto another street.
Oh, he thought, grinning back. That’s why.
There was nothing in his system except her.
They stopped at a door and before he could try to figure out where they were, she had it unlocked and pulled him inside. And before he could say anything, she was kissing him.
It took every ounce of self control he possessed, but he needed to ask. So breaking apart from the softest lips he’d ever kissed, he said, “Wait. What’s your name?“
With a smirk that set him on fire, she said, “No names. Just fun.” Then, more seriously, she asked, “Do you have a condom?”
He pulled a couple out of his pocket to show her and she rolled her eyes, still smiling. But then he hesitated. As much as he wanted to know her name, Dorian realized that if she told him, he’d have to give his. He could lie, but he didn’t want to do that with her. And if this one night was all she was willing to give him, he’d take it. On her terms.
“I’m at your command,” he said, losing his breath at the heat that overtook her at his words.
“I’ll try to be gentle,” she teased as she took his lower lip between her teeth. Dorian groaned and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. “Down the hall. First door on the left,” she said, sounding out of breath too.
As he carried her to the bedroom, Dorian uttered a brief, silent thank you to Gavriel for dragging him out tonight.
*****
“Have dinner with me?”
Manon’s eyes slid over to him as the kids ran off into the gift shop, where the tours always ended. They were left alone. No distractions, no excuses.
Dorian knew he was probably crossing a line. He’d done his best to pay attention as she’d led them through the various halls and galleries, but there were a few times when she’d caught him watching her and not the exhibits. She’d been flustered once or twice by him though. Which was why he decided to throw his luck to the wind and just ask.
“What was your favorite exhibit?” she asked, watching the kids as the other groups from their school joined them.
“Excuse me?” That was not the answer he’d been expecting.
“Was there a certain dinosaur you liked? Or one of the dioramas? Maybe something in the Hall of Minerals?” Manon finally turned to look at him, her face expressionless. “What was your favorite part?” She repeated the question a little more slowly, enunciating each word.
He hesitated, sensing a trap. The answer forming on the tip of his tongue - You, of course - would undoubtedly spring it and send him limping home with his pride in ruins.
“Uh…” He fumbled through his brain for something, anything, as he realized he’d been silent for too long. “The dinosaurs. I liked the giant winged ones.” It wasn’t a lie, they were his favorites. And not just because her voice seemed to grow more excited while talking about them. For some reason, they seemed more unbelievable than the other fossil skeletons, more fantastical and amazing. But under the pressure of her piercing stare, there was no way he’d remember any of their names.
Giving nothing away to signify if he’d given a good reply, she simply asked, “The raptors?”
Dorian tried not to sound relieved. “Yeah, the raptors. They were cool. Frightening as hell, but cool.” Manon made a disappointed sigh and he knew instantly that he’d fucked up.
“Raptors are birds of prey. Or small carnivorous dinosaurs. Like Jurassic Park.” She curved a finger that sported an exceptionally sharp nail. “The giant flying ones are pterosaurs. Which are reptiles. If you’d been paying attention, maybe you would have known that.” Stepping closer to him, her voice soft and lethal, she said, “Perhaps if you could answer my question properly, my answer wouldn’t be no.”
Before he could say anything to defend himself, Hollin rushed over and grabbed his hand. As his brother pulled him towards baskets of fake fossils for sale, Dorian glanced back at Manon. She was basking in the satisfaction of tricking him. But there was something else there besides the smooth as cream smile. Her eyes were blazing with a challenge.
He was pulled away again and when he looked back, she was gone. As Hollin picked out his souvenirs, Dorian decided the two of them should start coming to the museum more often. His brother enjoyed it, and there was the extra benefit of getting Hollin out of their toxic home. And he clearly needed to bone upon his dinosaur names.
To be continued…