Post by Damon Graas R5 on Aug 9, 2013 12:46:49 GMT -5
It had started so subtly that had it not been for the bond between them Damon might have remained oblivious until he had accidentally agreed to something he did not wish to do. As it was though he was careful enough to run everything through his mind twice and was careful about his choice of words. After all, maybe Ashlyn had been badgered by his brothers for a little bit too much if he was starting to pick up on their bad habits. But he had been putting up with his brothers and sisters for far longer and knew just the tricks and swivels to stay one step ahead. It didn’t stop there though. It turned to open niceness and small favours. And asking nicely. And over the seven months all of that took it got to using every bit of influencing leverage she could via the bond. Well, granted, the last one only lasted until Damon had stepped out of the meeting he had been in and returned the prodding influence with some clear mental images his mind conjured while mulling over the words ‘Ashlyn’, ‘naked’ and ‘flexible’. When those mental imagines were kindly shared down the link the barrier between them had been slammed down and any of Damon’s attempts of conversing in whichever form had been solidly ignored for three days. However those were blessedly quiet days also free of being wheedled to tell Ashlyn just what instrument he had learnt to play as a child. Oh, he would forever loathe Rister for telling Ashlyn that he was no exception in their mom’s opinions of raising multi/faceted children and had been forced to take music lessons as well.
Damon was just making his way back to their quarters after two far too long and tiring days on far too little sleep – if you could even call a five hour nap proper sleep. But finally the business negotiations were done and tomorrow they could set back to Italy. For now Damon was just happy to collapse on the low couch in the living room of their quarters as his eyes closed tiredly. It didn’t take long for his mind to start drifting – and considering how comfortable the seat felt at the moment he couldn’t wake up with that bad of a crick in his neck, could he? – and it took less than half a second for him to snap back to himself considering the method Ashlyn used to awake him. The light press of lips against his own, the chilled favour of his favourite ice-cream… Damon’s eyes snapped open and focused intently to where Ashlyn was leaning over him with the spoon she had used to lift the ice cream to his mouth still in his hand and her face determinedly set. And so began the next round of negotiations for him to play with Ashlyn taking full advantage of his tired mindset as she bullied out a trade for Damon to play one song for her back home in return for three favours, not including their marriage or births of any of their children, that Damon could call in at any time.
Despite all of Ashlyn’s expectations the playing part did not happen the afternoon or even evening of their return though. For however much Ashlyn was a wilful person when she so chose, but life at the Graas castle was never quiet and his family could be quite the force majeure. So it was that it wasn’t until the next morning that Damon prodded Ashlyn awake at dawn despite the early morning hour when they had got to bed – Damon was not going to let this opportunity to guarantee that his brothers would be asleep just slip by – and gave the sleepy blonde in the bed a disgruntled look from where he was leaning against the door. “Come on, then,” he muttered wryly, turning and striding out the door without further pause. Damon strode easily through the hallways of the castle towards a rather rarely frequented wing, before stopping before a door like any other and wringing out a wizarding oath from Ashlyn to never tell a soul about what she’d hear inside before opening the door and letting her step in.
It was a room that was obviously been used as a semi nursery and semi play room and semi classroom for the fine arts for the Graas siblings when they were younger, but what Ashlyn might note first was the harp that had been lifted to the centre of the room before a chair. Closing and locking the door behind him Damon threw a truly loathing look at the instrument but without further comment or glance towards Ashlyn marched up to it and took a seat before it. Sighing once he lifted his hands and without once lifting his head placed them on the strings to play. He had nothing against classical music and enjoyed Ashlyn’s repertoire, but Damon had also always favoured rock for relaxation and that was what he played now as well. Light rock, which some might find an odd choice of music to play. He wasn’t bad per see for his parents were demanding enough to have expected all their children to have fully and properly grasped the basics of whatever instrument they played. But the lack of practices was plain as he occasionally fumbled for some notes and twice plucked the wrong string; his fingers lacking the agility to dance over the strings like Ashlyn’s danced over the keyboard of a piano and himself the innard musical instinct that made a song more than just a song.
Standing just as wordlessly once the one song he had promised was over Damon stalked towards the door again with a growl half-way locked in his throat and a frown on his face. He loathed the harp. Unlocking the door Damon paused to send a brief glance over his shoulder at Ashlyn. “Don’t ever ask me to play again, sweetheart, unless you are announcing the birth of our firstborn in the same breath,” he warned her seriously before stepping out. He needed a shower now he decided with a disgusted shudder.
Damon was just making his way back to their quarters after two far too long and tiring days on far too little sleep – if you could even call a five hour nap proper sleep. But finally the business negotiations were done and tomorrow they could set back to Italy. For now Damon was just happy to collapse on the low couch in the living room of their quarters as his eyes closed tiredly. It didn’t take long for his mind to start drifting – and considering how comfortable the seat felt at the moment he couldn’t wake up with that bad of a crick in his neck, could he? – and it took less than half a second for him to snap back to himself considering the method Ashlyn used to awake him. The light press of lips against his own, the chilled favour of his favourite ice-cream… Damon’s eyes snapped open and focused intently to where Ashlyn was leaning over him with the spoon she had used to lift the ice cream to his mouth still in his hand and her face determinedly set. And so began the next round of negotiations for him to play with Ashlyn taking full advantage of his tired mindset as she bullied out a trade for Damon to play one song for her back home in return for three favours, not including their marriage or births of any of their children, that Damon could call in at any time.
Despite all of Ashlyn’s expectations the playing part did not happen the afternoon or even evening of their return though. For however much Ashlyn was a wilful person when she so chose, but life at the Graas castle was never quiet and his family could be quite the force majeure. So it was that it wasn’t until the next morning that Damon prodded Ashlyn awake at dawn despite the early morning hour when they had got to bed – Damon was not going to let this opportunity to guarantee that his brothers would be asleep just slip by – and gave the sleepy blonde in the bed a disgruntled look from where he was leaning against the door. “Come on, then,” he muttered wryly, turning and striding out the door without further pause. Damon strode easily through the hallways of the castle towards a rather rarely frequented wing, before stopping before a door like any other and wringing out a wizarding oath from Ashlyn to never tell a soul about what she’d hear inside before opening the door and letting her step in.
It was a room that was obviously been used as a semi nursery and semi play room and semi classroom for the fine arts for the Graas siblings when they were younger, but what Ashlyn might note first was the harp that had been lifted to the centre of the room before a chair. Closing and locking the door behind him Damon threw a truly loathing look at the instrument but without further comment or glance towards Ashlyn marched up to it and took a seat before it. Sighing once he lifted his hands and without once lifting his head placed them on the strings to play. He had nothing against classical music and enjoyed Ashlyn’s repertoire, but Damon had also always favoured rock for relaxation and that was what he played now as well. Light rock, which some might find an odd choice of music to play. He wasn’t bad per see for his parents were demanding enough to have expected all their children to have fully and properly grasped the basics of whatever instrument they played. But the lack of practices was plain as he occasionally fumbled for some notes and twice plucked the wrong string; his fingers lacking the agility to dance over the strings like Ashlyn’s danced over the keyboard of a piano and himself the innard musical instinct that made a song more than just a song.
Standing just as wordlessly once the one song he had promised was over Damon stalked towards the door again with a growl half-way locked in his throat and a frown on his face. He loathed the harp. Unlocking the door Damon paused to send a brief glance over his shoulder at Ashlyn. “Don’t ever ask me to play again, sweetheart, unless you are announcing the birth of our firstborn in the same breath,” he warned her seriously before stepping out. He needed a shower now he decided with a disgusted shudder.