[ If you had told him that he would be attending a New Year's event with a bunch of Grim a year ago, Rook would have laughed and then, depending on how tired he was, light you on fire for the amusement of it. Grim were reclusive and not exactly known for being open and friendly to, well, anyone other than fellow Grim. And, before he met Jiwoo, Rook always thought them to be incredibly boring. Sure, he wasn't privy to all the rules and regulations of their kind, he was a demon and demons were not to be trusted or something like that, but they simply exuded this droll air that had Rook taking a nap to avoid small talk. All in all, Grim were boring and Rook had no desire to deal with them ever.
And then he met Jiwoo.
Which meant that now he is dressed in the complete opposite of his usual attire (it is not comfortable nor is is revealing, and wow, how do people stand collars like this?) and making his way up a ridiculous driveway in the cold to a manor that makes him think of terrible Victorian romance novels. Because he was told to not make an entrance. Or a spectacle. Or really be much of himself for that matter, but he understood that because, well, he was a Demon of Lust and he more or less specialized in everything the Grim found distasteful.
Like excess.
Not that Rook went completely without. Upon reading the reminders from Jiwoo, Rook decided mostly follow the orders on keeping things modest. Nothing on the outside, he was in a black suit with all the buttons done up and tie tied in a Windsor knot (and okay, perhaps the pants are tighter than they should be, and maybe he has made sure that even if there is no skin showing, the jacket shows off his form, but whatever), nothing shiny and no skin on display. He even removed his usual earrings and bands of gold from his fingers. But beneath the silk of his shirt there was one of his favourite gold chains, set with fire opals and small bright red gems, laying along his skin and wrapping around his throat and ribs.
He would let Jiwoo in on that later.
For now, he puts on his most charming smile (charming and almost innocent) as he approaches the house and greets those standing at the door. He gets no strange looks for his attire (or his complete disregard of the weather and how he is only is a suit), and is let in the front door with little more than a short bow and dismissive glance.
Jiwoo is there to greet him.
The smile on his face warms a fraction as he inclines his head, eyebrow quirking.]
You didn't mention it was such a driveway, dar-- Jiwoo. I should have brought a carriage.
[ Is he teasing? Honest? Both? Who knows. Either way, Rook is taking the Grim's hand easily (his own their usual burning warm) and presses the briefest of kisses to his knuckles. The touch doesn't linger, not this time, Rook doesn't want the gesture to be seen as another other than a demon stuck in old courtesies that have long since passed.
And perhaps he wants to see the other squirm just a bit.]
no subject
And then he met Jiwoo.
Which meant that now he is dressed in the complete opposite of his usual attire (it is not comfortable nor is is revealing, and wow, how do people stand collars like this?) and making his way up a ridiculous driveway in the cold to a manor that makes him think of terrible Victorian romance novels. Because he was told to not make an entrance. Or a spectacle. Or really be much of himself for that matter, but he understood that because, well, he was a Demon of Lust and he more or less specialized in everything the Grim found distasteful.
Like excess.
Not that Rook went completely without. Upon reading the reminders from Jiwoo, Rook decided mostly follow the orders on keeping things modest. Nothing on the outside, he was in a black suit with all the buttons done up and tie tied in a Windsor knot (and okay, perhaps the pants are tighter than they should be, and maybe he has made sure that even if there is no skin showing, the jacket shows off his form, but whatever), nothing shiny and no skin on display. He even removed his usual earrings and bands of gold from his fingers. But beneath the silk of his shirt there was one of his favourite gold chains, set with fire opals and small bright red gems, laying along his skin and wrapping around his throat and ribs.
He would let Jiwoo in on that later.
For now, he puts on his most charming smile (charming and almost innocent) as he approaches the house and greets those standing at the door. He gets no strange looks for his attire (or his complete disregard of the weather and how he is only is a suit), and is let in the front door with little more than a short bow and dismissive glance.
Jiwoo is there to greet him.
The smile on his face warms a fraction as he inclines his head, eyebrow quirking.]
You didn't mention it was such a driveway, dar-- Jiwoo. I should have brought a carriage.
[ Is he teasing? Honest? Both? Who knows. Either way, Rook is taking the Grim's hand easily (his own their usual burning warm) and presses the briefest of kisses to his knuckles. The touch doesn't linger, not this time, Rook doesn't want the gesture to be seen as another other than a demon stuck in old courtesies that have long since passed.
And perhaps he wants to see the other squirm just a bit.]
Do I meet your standards for this event?