Summer 70 512AV
The Silver Sliver Tavern
"Wait, don' tell me. Lemme guess." the voice carved through the tavern to his busty company with relative ease. The tables were abuzz with insect wings flapping near his ear, the bottomless drone of chatter that lined his thoughts and played to the lively scenery. The room was a current, an easy comparison to the flowing canal within view through the swinging door.
Cupped palms clapped against the wooden knots of the bar with an accompanied declaration "I've got it!" Amatus' index rose and aimed toward the puffed chest in a dipping neckline. It was his day off, yet here he was exactly as he had been behind the counter. Slipping honey to flies and reveling in the fruit bore of his efforts.
The brunette with sharpened arrow pointed at her heart bubbled like toppled champagne. A tousle of bouncing ringlets and painted cheeks rose with airy giggle in the beehive. "Already? Are you sure?"
He nodded vigorously as he sipped upon her neglected drink wincing through a familiar burn struck through his trunk. The swallow and subsequent pant were exaggerated and slack. He inclined toward her shadowed by a view of shapely white opals peeking from behind a pink casket. "Tea with honey, cinnamon-" he chomped at his lip, squinted at her with some illusion of straining thought "and ginger, yes?"
Fresh laughter cooed with her roving fingers sweeping against his arm. "How did you know?"
"Ahhh but mi' lady, a gentlemen must never reveals trade secrets." his laugh was echoed by the tin mug before his mouth. The truth was, it was uncomplicated, no secrete at all. All that he required was to lean toward her glistening bosom to catch the scent of tea leaves and spices. A fickle guess to ginger deducted from a flailing hint that most ales left her nauseous. It was his job after all to find understanding in those that swung through the door and purchased his services. He had been taught well, raised in a similar setting.
A gracious nod through his mouthful of silver was all it took to keep her chattering. Even with his rootless scrutiny over the room, she assumed him to be listening. Such a man would never be one to neglect his company, would he? So she would think, and so he would have her think. He was bored with her already, ready to lead her to bed and put good use to such a restless mouth. He wound his way into her bed of curls, her shoulders rising as he grazed her neck, her speech stuttered and resumed as he continued to nod with full view down her sliding top.
"Amatus? Amaaatus!" The whine pulled him back to her pouted and playful expression.
"Yes, what is it?" her locks coiled and sprung from his hand where he lazed fingertips over her protruding collar bone.
"I asked if you wanted another drink. Your cup is empty." It is indeed. he joked inwardly, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth for a reason other than politeness.
"Please." metal scrapped over the wood into her waiting reach.
She was such a cute girl picking seed from his palm, ruffling her feathers with a thrust out chest. He was nothing if not entertained by her efforts to return his seduction. Still it was lackluster, pitiful even to fall prey so easily, he had only to bat his sinuous lashes in her direction and she fell into a pit of steely gray.
She returned only moments later, a fresh glass politely fell into his grasp, while he roamed over the doorway for a more inviting sight to tiptoe within sight. She sat beside him, slinking into cracks of creaking floor boards with sticky mop water and dust. She quietly observing his noticeable loss of interest her eyes trailing his lifting glass, determined not to budge until he himself was removed from their conversation. A damsel befitting a proper social burial.