08.19.3013: Blackouts and Humiliations I
Summary: A soused Eirene shows up at Deacon's apartment. Who can really remember the rest.
Date: 19 August 2013
Related: The Escort, Reunited and It Feels So Awkward
Eirene Deacon 


TP Room 1
Deacon Coburn's Apartment in New Atlantis, Mare Maris.
August 19, 3013

Before Eirene left the Apogee Casino, she told her guard she intended to pay Deacon a visit. Despite being three sheets to the wind, the man agreed to bring his lady where ever she wished to go. The conversation between herself and Sean for most of the evening made her a bit uncomfortable but that is because these are things Eirene battles with on a daily basis. There is a battle between her public persona and the natural desires of a young woman raging on inside of her every day.
She arrives to Deacon's apartment and leans against the frame for a moment before signaling the bell. It is late. He could be with a 'guest' for all she knows. Yet, in her condition, Eirene cares very little if Deacon is entertaining women. Alcohol has a selfish effect on her and right now she needs him. She needs her friend.

The door is open and Deacon opens it, a bit bleary-eyed, hair mussed. He's clearly been sleeping and he apparently sleeps in a pair of thin silk pants and nothing else. "Eirene?" he asks, squinting at the light from the hallway and gesturing her in without knowing how drunk she is. Waving a hand, he closes the door behind her and turns on the living room light - it's subdued and low intensity to avoid frying his poor sleepy eyes. "What're you doing here at this hour? It's gotta be…" he looks at a nearby clock and rubs at his eyes, "yeah. Late. You OK?" caught off guard and immediately concerned by her sudden late night appearance, he's less 'on' right now.

The scent of her perfume mixed with a lot of wine and some other blends of alcohol waft as she moves past Deacon. It takes her a good amount of energy to just push herself off the door frame, but when she does, she saunters into the apartment. "It's late?" She has no concept of time. "And yes, I mean no." The music system is turned on and the selection is something sultry, jazzy - "Dance with me." She beckons but doesn't give Deacon much time to answer before she's standing there before him. Almost stumbling in her heels, she kicks those off and drops to her natural height which gives the man a few inches on her. Arms drape around his bare shoulders and she presses her body in close. It's a little awkward. "Did you know I don't dance? I'm afraid of being touched. Dance with me."

"Eirene." he says her name as she stumbles forward, sensing that using any pet names at this time might be a bad idea and lead to regrettable decisions. "Yes, it's late. Close to morning. Where have you been?" Deacon watches, helpless, as she turns on some music. Of course he has sultry music. The apartment is empty aside from the two of them, and is well-appointed and classy like the man that lives here. "You dance?" he asks before she's pressed up against his bare torso. "Eirene." he says again, his default weak protest this evening. With a sigh of resignation, he sets his hands hesitantly at her waist once she's wrapped about him. "I'm touching you now, Eirene. Are you afraid?"

Eirene shakes her head side to side almost exaggerated. "No." The words are like a soft whisper. Not meant to be seductive, but rather, that is how they slur out. The young woman can barely keep her eyes open, but she still looks lovely in her long black dress with lace overlay. Dainty cap sleeves cover her shoulders, but her back is almost completely bare. "I'm not afraid, with you." While she confesses being comfortable in his embrace, Eirene goes about plucking the pins from her hair and carelessly tosses them somewhere in the room. The long tumble of champagne blonde hair cascades down her shoulders and her back almost wild and waywardly. "I met someone tonight. A DJ who was working as an escort for this rich lady I know. And you know what upset me most? Not that she had some young handsome man on her arm. No." Again her head shakes as she makes her point. "It was how comfortable she was in her own skin. And me? Oh.. Well this man asked me how I get intimate if I can't be touched. I had nothing to say." As the rhythm of the music gets a little heavier and moodier, Eirene presses a little closer to Deacon. "I want to be comfortable in my skin. Did you know Kadmus is getting married? And Devon is getting married again? And I get sick to my stomach thinking how will I ever kiss my husband!"

Dark green eyes shift as she removes the pins and frees her hair. As an experienced man, Deacon knows what those sort of things in this sort of proximity at this time of night typically precede. He shifts a bit, perhaps uncomfortable, and clears his throat. He's trying to pull away a little bit but she's following him and pressing closer, causing no small amount of discomfort for the man, very aware of how thin his sleeping pants are. But, he tries to avoid seeming uncomfortable, worried about offending Eirene. "I know, yes. When it comes time to kiss your husband, you'll be fine, Eirene. I promise. It comes naturally. Your body will take over." he murmurs soothingly, unconsciously sliding a hand up along her side and around to her bared back. When he realizes what he's doing, the dance he's settling into, he sets his hand at her waist again. "We clearly should have practiced when we were kids, huh?"

Eirene chuckles. There's a small touch of blush to her cheeks, but in the dim lighting it's hard to tell. "Yes." She confesses. Her fingers travel up to muss through his hair and tug on the blonde locks just a little bit. She knows this song well and closes her eyes while she sways in his arms. Her body moves without much thought. Lips part and she begins to sing - She sings without going through any of her rituals. It is almost as if she's forgotten them. "He wanted to escort me to some place. He told me there was dancing at this Siren place." Her words are still soft and airy as she almost lulls herself to sleep. "He told me about dancing - he was so passionate about it and all I could do was worry about my reputation." Her eyes open and settle onto Deacon's luscious green gaze. She doesn't even notice him running away from her let alone think how thin his pants are. "I wanted to go and just let go of all the weight I am carrying. I want to feel free, but I couldn't." Quickly, Eirene pulls herself away from him and turns around. Fingers work at the two buttons on the back of her neck, followed by the zipper that begins at the small of her back. She faces Deacon once more and puts his hands onto her shoulders, making him clutch the cap sleeves of her dress. "Make me comfortable in my skin."

"You should be cautious around men like that, love." he murmurs, leaning to kiss her lightly on the cheek, surprising himself most of all. Deacon is silent as she sings, listening with his eyes closed for the few moments, body moving easily and comfortably along with hers in the dance she's initiated. "You couldn't, no, and you shouldn't. You did the right thing, Eirene." he assures her, suddenly alone and without her in his arms. Deacon blinks and shakes his head, trying to regain some composure. "What…" he behins as she unzips her dress. He's eager to hold it on her and does as she directs, holding the dress up at her shoulders. "I don't think that's something I can just do, Eirene. It takes time. It has to come from you."

Eirene rolls her shoulders a little just to make the dress a little looser. "Hmm?" The sound is almost incoherent. Her body falls heavy against Deacon's and her arms simply drop at her sides. Before either one of them can say something, the sound of Eirene's heavy breathing breaks the silence. Her cheek mashes onto his shoulder and there is a good chance if her mouth is open, she may drool. She doesn't snore, not yet at least, but she is passed out. Completely and utterly passed out.

Deacon lets out a tremendous sigh of relief as Eirene passes out. He catches her easily, probably having plenty of experience with drunken women, and lifts her up gently, leaving the dress and taking the young woman. Carrying her to his bedroom, which looks how one might expect it to look if they knew Deacon well. The sheets are a mess since he was sleeping but he nudges them aside and sets Eirene down lightly onto the mattress. He looks at her dress-less form, of course, then shakes his head and pulls the sheets up to her chin. With nowhere else to go and safe from Eirene's drunken decision-making, Deacon slides into the large bed beside her to get some sleep, keeping to the edge for the most part.

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