Solace, my love.

[Kagerus]

My wife, for the first glimpse I get of her today, removes her shoes. I laugh at the sight, my fox-grin reaching all the way to Solace as she makes her way through the crowd of drunk and horny elites (it doesn't take long to figure out the routine involved in events like these; it walks like a duck, it quacks like a duck, it's a duck. In this case, the duck is a club with some big names attached, more or less). A similar expression beams across the cherry plains of Sol's lips when she spots me, a flick of her bare heels as she trots towards me enough to send a woman to her knees.

I stow that thought away for later as Sol falls into my arms, that airy way she has about her filling my lungs anew.

"How --" but I do not have to ask, for Solace provides the answer in her silken, sultry voice. Fuck, do I love you. That thought and the corresponding feeling resonate through me as I listen to her lamentations. Is that tequila? I wonder as I inhale near my wife's neck, much as she inhales near mine; I  grin and place a contemplative kiss at the site of the smell. You must have been in a good mood to pick that poison.

But I did secure five more donors... So I guess it was worth it.

"God damn are you hot when you do your job," I mutter in mock surprise, placing my hands on my wife's silk-clad waist such that I can lean back and give her an approving once over. As though she would ever need anyone's approval besides her own; she's been head honcho since long before the day I met her. The fact that I'm now her partner in crime -- and, ahem, business -- and not just her pet is a blessing she bestows on me of her own volition. After all, I'd happily lounge in Solace's radiance forever, given half a chance; it just so happens that our skill-sets and careers compliment one another, leaving just a little bit less room for that lounging I mentioned. "We might just have to keep you on as the CEO of Triple-H after all." Breaking, I laugh and bring my lips to Solace's, tilting my chin up just a touch to do so.

With a few more titters and a not-so-sneaky pat on her ass as she slips into the Benz, door held open by yours truly, I get Solace into the car and then tumble in myself. I throw my auburn hair up into a bun and then reach into the back seat. In my hands, Solace's favourite non-alcoholic, night-before-the-hangover hangover-cure beverage rests.

"For you, my lady," I say, handing her the drink. I don't point out the cigarettes in the console for now, wondering just how long it will take before Sol finds them herself. "And while you sip, be a good girl and DJ, won't you? And also tell me more about the donors you bagged." My phone finds its way into her lap as I say this. Then, hands to wheel and eyes to road, I peel away from the venue, excited as my wife to once again be home. 

@[Solace]