| Details for Unbound |
| Summary: | After midnight Signe and Wolfgang have a discussion about their relationship over a night cap. |
| Date: | Friday May 15th & May 16th |
| Location: | Flat Above The Natrix |
| Related: | Club Hoppers |
| Characters |
  |
It is a spring night. The weather is cool and clear.
Behind a hidden panel and up a flight of stairs from the Natrix's office, this swanky penthouse apartment is decorated with the same art deco sensibility as the room below, but far more lavishly. The stairs top out in the center of a wide circular room. The inner half of the circle covered in plush green carpet, the outer half in black and white marble tiles. A variety of eclectic modern statues on pedestals ring the room, along with silver-framed mirrors and modern paintings. In nearly every room there is a piano of some sort. A standing piano is the smaller rooms and a beautiful black grand piano with sexy curves and art deco designs on the legs and on the lid. On the carpet opposite the stairs is a seating area with several low-slung white Italian leather couches and armless chairs surrounding a circular mahogany table.
The curving walls are translucent glass, and through its milky-white surface the outline of the rooms beyond can be seen: a kitchen and bar with another small seating area, a smoking parlor with a billiards table, a large bathroom with a jacuzzi, and a bedroom dominated by a tall king-sized four-poster with a silver and rosewood frame. One five-meter segment of the glass wall is one-way transparent glass, offering a view of the night club's surroundings that opens on to a discreet balcony.
Signe leans against Wolfgang as they make their way up the stairs, her arm wrapped around him and her head against his shoulders. Her shoes dangle from the fingers of her left hand. Once they reach the top, however, she pulls away to head towards the amply stocked bar - dropping her shoes on the floor in front of her. "A nightcap?" she offers, taking down a pair of glasses.
Wolfgang slides off his jacket and it lands on the shoes she dropped. The unnamed house-elf will get to tidying them up later when it'll be out of sight. "Sounds like a very good idea. The usual for me Sins." He pops his cufflinks and undoes his bowtied and he undoes the starch collar. Those items get placed on the coffee table and he sits on the couch and waits for her to re-join him. His shoes are slid off as well but the socks are kept on. "You looked beautiful tonight." He tells her that every night.
With drinks in hand she joins him, tucking her stocking-feet underneath herself before she hands over the drink - along with a kiss. "And you knocked it dead tonight. If I weren't already swept entirely off my feet…" Signe lets her words trail off before taking a sip of her drink.
Wolfgang takes the drink with one hand while the other reaches under his mistress to rub at her feet, speaking of them. "I'll not be satisfied til we dance on the moon dollface." He leans over to kiss her cheek while tugging her feet gently so she stretches her legs out over his lap. "So, you want to talk to me?" The question is gentle and he is looking at her in concern, that free hand rubbing at her in a tender supportive caress.
Signe is more than happy to slide her feet into his lap - they get quite sore after wearing heels all night. "If anyone could pull off the feat, it'd be you, I'm sure," she agrees, before taking another sip.
The question isn't entirely unexpected, and she hesitates, considering what answer she could give that would let her avoid causing Wolfgang any hurt. She should never have let Graham talk her into sharing what bothered her.
"I'm alright, Wolfgang. I don't want you to worry."
Wolfgang smiles before he takes a drink of his amarretto on the rocks when she compliments him so. The glass is then set aside so that he can lift those cool fingers to stroke her cheek. "You're not alright. I thought we weren't going to lie to each other. If you don't want to tell me, that I will respect. But don't lie to me. Please. You should feel free to tell me anything. I'm worried already, so you might as well confide? Again, no pressure to do so. Just don't be afraid, please."
Signe studies Wolfgang's features as he speaks, slowly letting some hints of pain creep in. She scoots in closer so she's practically sitting in his lap now, her head resting on his chest. "You are always so good to me," she answers. "But I worry that… sharing will only hurt you, without fixing anything."
Wolfgang places his hand over her hand that rests over his heart and the other hand slides around her to hold her close and stroke the bit of back the gown exposes. "Firstly, don't you worry about me any Dollface. I'm a happy man. You make me happy and I adore you, you know that, don't you? But if you're saying that it's hurting you. Well that's a different song all together."
"Of course I know," Signe answers, before falling silent for a time. Should she tell him? Was there any point to keeping it hidden, at this point? The hand on his chest fiddles idly with his loosened collar as she thinks. Finally, she admits quietly, "There's three things I want desperately - but no matter how I turn it around in my head, I don't see how I can ever have more than two of them. It's my own fault - I'm being silly. I know I should just be happy with what I have. There aren't many as fortunate as I have been, after all."
Wolfgang smiles a little as he looks down and watches her fiddle. But when her confession is done, he looks up into her eyes. "You know there is only one thing at this time that I can't give you. Just one. Everything else in this world is yours. I know that one thing is a big thing. But it's just paper, a contract, from where I'm standing Sins. If you need that one thing to be happy, you have my blessing and support in finding it where you can."
"That's the third thing," Signe admits. "After a fashion." Her hand tightens around his collar, and tears begin to creep down her cheeks. "But I don't ever want to let you go. I haven't wished I were a witch since I was a little girl - but I do now."
Wolfgang lifts his hand to stroke the tears from her face. "You wouldn't be the woman you are if you were, and I wouldn't change that if my life depended on it. You are perfection, don't you ever feel anything less. If you don't want to let me go, then don't. I'm here, I'm going to be here. I'm not leaving. Tell me what these three things are?" He coaxes her in that soft puppy dog way he has when he's being extra gentle with her, or when he's dealing with his mother.
"Well, you're one," Signe admits, the hand holding to his collar tugging it lightly. "And my career," she adds. The third thing seems harder to admit - as she falls silent and seems to have to muster herself before adding, "It's Beryl's fault. I look at what she has - her beautiful little Emmy - but how can I have that without being wed? It'd ruin my career."
Wolfgang laughs, he can't help it. "I love how you don't realize just how devious I can get to get what I want. You can marry some soldier and have many of 'his' babies and your career is intact and you make some sod nice and rich, and we get to stop worrying about potions and pills and what not. When we're done, he can go MIA set up on some tropical island for life and my Sins, my dollface, can and will be happy."
Signe goes still as she ponders the scheme Wolfgang has dropped in her lap. It doesn't seem… quite right, and yet… "But there'd be talk… wouldn't there? Surely, the way we carry on. And… and if he's away at war, how could any child possibly be his?" she asks uncertainly.
Wolfgang licks his lips, these schemes come very very easily to him. "One of the defense boys, stationed here. We carry on like any celebrity does. The times are also changing darling. People careless about affairs and unwed mothers, especially in the wizarding community, just look at your sister for example. No one bats an eye. So what if you are a squib, you are apart of the community as much as I am. You bring beauty to the world with your talents and you'd even have Grindelwald singing your praises if he knew you. Everyone knows that you are under my protection. If they don't respect that, they'll learn to the hard way and soon enough. You Sins, you can and will have everything that you want."
"To wizards, perhaps, but to Muggles…?" Signe answers. That's her larger concern. That's the world she lives in. "I'm… not sure, Wolfgang." She holds her breath for a moment, and lets it out slowly before asking in a soft voice, "If you were free to marry who you wished…?"
Wolfgang licks his lips and reaches over to take a drink now that she's posed that rather big question to him. "If I were free to marry who I wished… I don't know if I would marry at all. I am not a fan of it in truth. It is a thing that has turned from something that was more honest about the business aspect behind it. Now it's disguised as some social rite of passage that is expected. And many of us, like my mother are given so little choice. Yet everything that was done is fine because she's married. And this thing with us and you and your career… it's a rediculous thing. I'm sorry if that hurts you. But it's the truth if I had the freedom, I would treat you like my queen until the day I die, but I don't want anything binding on paper that obligates me to do so. It just takes the romance of it all right out.
"I see…" is Signe's only immediate response to his explination, as she continues to turn his words over in her mind. So there is never - and could never be - a world where he would consider marrying her. But she knew that going in, didn't she?
And she's still not sure where any of this lives her - or what she should do next. She's almost certain that Beryl would advise she walk away - but just the thought of it made her heart ache.
Wolfgang holds her closer and leans in to kiss her softly. "You know I understand that you have changed your mind about all of this. If it were for everyone, everyone would be doing it and not the marrying thing. I'm very capable of making sacrifies to make sure the people I care about get what's best for them. I don't want you to go. You know how I feel about you. No piece of paper is going to change that. For better or more often is the case, for worse."
"I know," Signe answers softly. "But I don't know what I'm going to do yet." Still holding tightly to his collar (does she ever plan on letting go?) she asks, "Can we just go to bed, darling?"
Wolfgang downs the remainder of his drink and scoops her up into his arms and carries her like a princess to their bed. "Anything my Sins desires."