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The light, the early morning, the smell of cold wet stone and the chill of the mist. All of these things Spiro had come to know as familiar greeted him everyday. And everyday he was met with a similar crowd of people in the markets, most of them he knew by name. But out of all of them Mrs. Cosse was his favorite shop keeper to help. She was an older woman in her late 60's and was a widow. Her and her husband had run the stall selling crystals and other fancy rocks that their son had found in the mine.
Her hair was a silvery gray and she typically wore togas and dresses that were yellowed with age and sun, but she didn't seem to care that she looked ancient. Mrs. Cosse didn't really care what people thought about her! That's why Spiro liked her- she didn't care about your background and only cared on looking forward. She once sold small alters and statues of the god's when her husband was alive, but he had since died and all the polished marble and stone statues turned into wooden ones that Mrs. Cosse made herself.
Moving from the shadows of the ally Spiro walked over to the blind widow and took her hand gently and smiled. "Good morning Mrs. Cosse, how are you feeling today?" His tone was soft like a fur blanket and his body language was kind. Any on looker would mistake this as a mother being helped by her son. Sometimes Spiro liked to think as Mrs. Cosse as his mother, but he knew that he would never had come from such a strong willed woman.
"It's going well Sparrow, here to help with heavy lifting?" The woman smiled and patted Spiro's cheek.
Spiro simply smiled back at the woman and began to lift crates of crystals and unpacking. This was his mornings on just about everyday. He would listen to Mrs. Cosse's wisdom and stories. While Spiro had never met Mrs. Cosse's son or husband he had no doubt in his mind that her son was a lucky one. To have such an interesting woman as a mother Spiro wished he had been born a Cosse.
The morning dragged on and Spiro helped with the sales of the wooden figures and crystals. He flirted casually with the women who gave him the opportunity, followed by Mrs. Cosse giving him a teasing nudge once they left. "My Husband was like you when we were young Sparrow."
Spiro chuckled, "I told you Mrs. Casso," his tone as playful as her soft nudge, "My name is Spiro not Sparrow" And they went on. The old widow and the kind young man. Noon rolled around and Mrs. Cosse gave Spiro a few coins for him to go and find him some lunch. So putting his shaw on Spiro stepped out into the bustling market place and headed to the smell of food. The tall man stopped at fruit stands and bakeries chatting and laughing with those he knew well.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The light, the early morning, the smell of cold wet stone and the chill of the mist. All of these things Spiro had come to know as familiar greeted him everyday. And everyday he was met with a similar crowd of people in the markets, most of them he knew by name. But out of all of them Mrs. Cosse was his favorite shop keeper to help. She was an older woman in her late 60's and was a widow. Her and her husband had run the stall selling crystals and other fancy rocks that their son had found in the mine.
Her hair was a silvery gray and she typically wore togas and dresses that were yellowed with age and sun, but she didn't seem to care that she looked ancient. Mrs. Cosse didn't really care what people thought about her! That's why Spiro liked her- she didn't care about your background and only cared on looking forward. She once sold small alters and statues of the god's when her husband was alive, but he had since died and all the polished marble and stone statues turned into wooden ones that Mrs. Cosse made herself.
Moving from the shadows of the ally Spiro walked over to the blind widow and took her hand gently and smiled. "Good morning Mrs. Cosse, how are you feeling today?" His tone was soft like a fur blanket and his body language was kind. Any on looker would mistake this as a mother being helped by her son. Sometimes Spiro liked to think as Mrs. Cosse as his mother, but he knew that he would never had come from such a strong willed woman.
"It's going well Sparrow, here to help with heavy lifting?" The woman smiled and patted Spiro's cheek.
Spiro simply smiled back at the woman and began to lift crates of crystals and unpacking. This was his mornings on just about everyday. He would listen to Mrs. Cosse's wisdom and stories. While Spiro had never met Mrs. Cosse's son or husband he had no doubt in his mind that her son was a lucky one. To have such an interesting woman as a mother Spiro wished he had been born a Cosse.
The morning dragged on and Spiro helped with the sales of the wooden figures and crystals. He flirted casually with the women who gave him the opportunity, followed by Mrs. Cosse giving him a teasing nudge once they left. "My Husband was like you when we were young Sparrow."
Spiro chuckled, "I told you Mrs. Casso," his tone as playful as her soft nudge, "My name is Spiro not Sparrow" And they went on. The old widow and the kind young man. Noon rolled around and Mrs. Cosse gave Spiro a few coins for him to go and find him some lunch. So putting his shaw on Spiro stepped out into the bustling market place and headed to the smell of food. The tall man stopped at fruit stands and bakeries chatting and laughing with those he knew well.
The light, the early morning, the smell of cold wet stone and the chill of the mist. All of these things Spiro had come to know as familiar greeted him everyday. And everyday he was met with a similar crowd of people in the markets, most of them he knew by name. But out of all of them Mrs. Cosse was his favorite shop keeper to help. She was an older woman in her late 60's and was a widow. Her and her husband had run the stall selling crystals and other fancy rocks that their son had found in the mine.
Her hair was a silvery gray and she typically wore togas and dresses that were yellowed with age and sun, but she didn't seem to care that she looked ancient. Mrs. Cosse didn't really care what people thought about her! That's why Spiro liked her- she didn't care about your background and only cared on looking forward. She once sold small alters and statues of the god's when her husband was alive, but he had since died and all the polished marble and stone statues turned into wooden ones that Mrs. Cosse made herself.
Moving from the shadows of the ally Spiro walked over to the blind widow and took her hand gently and smiled. "Good morning Mrs. Cosse, how are you feeling today?" His tone was soft like a fur blanket and his body language was kind. Any on looker would mistake this as a mother being helped by her son. Sometimes Spiro liked to think as Mrs. Cosse as his mother, but he knew that he would never had come from such a strong willed woman.
"It's going well Sparrow, here to help with heavy lifting?" The woman smiled and patted Spiro's cheek.
Spiro simply smiled back at the woman and began to lift crates of crystals and unpacking. This was his mornings on just about everyday. He would listen to Mrs. Cosse's wisdom and stories. While Spiro had never met Mrs. Cosse's son or husband he had no doubt in his mind that her son was a lucky one. To have such an interesting woman as a mother Spiro wished he had been born a Cosse.
The morning dragged on and Spiro helped with the sales of the wooden figures and crystals. He flirted casually with the women who gave him the opportunity, followed by Mrs. Cosse giving him a teasing nudge once they left. "My Husband was like you when we were young Sparrow."
Spiro chuckled, "I told you Mrs. Casso," his tone as playful as her soft nudge, "My name is Spiro not Sparrow" And they went on. The old widow and the kind young man. Noon rolled around and Mrs. Cosse gave Spiro a few coins for him to go and find him some lunch. So putting his shaw on Spiro stepped out into the bustling market place and headed to the smell of food. The tall man stopped at fruit stands and bakeries chatting and laughing with those he knew well.
Mihail did not eat all too often. Full meals seemed inconvenient, a waste of time which could otherwise be spent on more important matters. He made a habit of grazing, a sizeable bowl of fruits permanently seated on a table in his room beside one of the many empty jars of wine which so commonly littered his chamber, but, despite his apparent penchant for solitude, he was not always locked away within the Thanasi home. The outside world was not so well-prepared for his peculiarities, however, and despite the magical claims which surrounded his family, he couldn't quite conjure up something to eat whenever he willed.
On this unusually bright day in Azosios, Mihail had been in the city of Midas on urgent business. He had been visiting a contact of his who had been working on the production of a scholarly paper for him, some discussion of logic which was taking far too long to finish. Extravagant threats and blackmail were useful tools when it came to the man but, ultimately, he worked slowly with the intentions of crafting something exquisite - it was the reason the youngest Thanasi had selected him over all others to produce such works in his name. Still, he had been waiting a month now for the piece to be complete, and when he had leaned over the scholar's desk, and the man had glanced up from his work to meet Mihail's dark gaze, he had seen nothing short of panic at his delay. He had offered him another week, reminded him of the incentive of a few extra drachmae for his family in Nethisa on his success and the consequence of failure and had let him be.
With the matter dealt with, he had made his way to the market with intentions to talk to his favoured bowyer about an order for custom-designed arrows he had made a few days prior - despite the usual speediness of crafting arrows: their distinctiveness made their elements harder to source. He had been stopped, however, by that so unexpected and unfamiliar pang of hunger, and Mihail had been forced to direct himself towards a food stall instead. It was only intended as a small detour.
Passing one of the merchants a few coins in exchange for a single pear, enough to quench his hunger, for now, gaze shifting outwards to survey the rest of the crowd as he took a bite, hovering in the mild shade provided by the stall. The bowyer could wait, he supposed, especially when there were so many good-looking men and women roaming the market that day. A few were familiar to him, faces he had seen crossing the Agora on past visits. It was the ideal occasion to play the game too, as in this particular instance one might have been hard-pressed to identify Mihail as male or female, with such a carefully clean-shaven face, black kohl-rimmed eyes and hair that was so overdue a cropping that its thick curls fell to shoulder length. His choice of dress for the day might have provided some hint, the slightly tighter-than-usual-cinched garnet-red chiton paired with a sheer black himation that barely provided for the colder weather, and those classic silver viper-shaped pins holding it all together, but overall, he was hardly a picture of certainty.
The man who caught his eye now was of similar height to himself with nicely chiselled features, and it was over to this man that Mihail now strutted. He didn't quite appear the type that would be easily enamoured by another man, but the thought didn't cross his mind as he moved to wrap his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, so that all he could see were those thin fingers decorated with a set of pretty rings which curled up the length of them like the serpents they displayed. "I haven't seen you around here before," he hissed into the taller man's ear, smiling despite their positioning making it invisible to him. "But I appreciate the improved view."
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Mihail did not eat all too often. Full meals seemed inconvenient, a waste of time which could otherwise be spent on more important matters. He made a habit of grazing, a sizeable bowl of fruits permanently seated on a table in his room beside one of the many empty jars of wine which so commonly littered his chamber, but, despite his apparent penchant for solitude, he was not always locked away within the Thanasi home. The outside world was not so well-prepared for his peculiarities, however, and despite the magical claims which surrounded his family, he couldn't quite conjure up something to eat whenever he willed.
On this unusually bright day in Azosios, Mihail had been in the city of Midas on urgent business. He had been visiting a contact of his who had been working on the production of a scholarly paper for him, some discussion of logic which was taking far too long to finish. Extravagant threats and blackmail were useful tools when it came to the man but, ultimately, he worked slowly with the intentions of crafting something exquisite - it was the reason the youngest Thanasi had selected him over all others to produce such works in his name. Still, he had been waiting a month now for the piece to be complete, and when he had leaned over the scholar's desk, and the man had glanced up from his work to meet Mihail's dark gaze, he had seen nothing short of panic at his delay. He had offered him another week, reminded him of the incentive of a few extra drachmae for his family in Nethisa on his success and the consequence of failure and had let him be.
With the matter dealt with, he had made his way to the market with intentions to talk to his favoured bowyer about an order for custom-designed arrows he had made a few days prior - despite the usual speediness of crafting arrows: their distinctiveness made their elements harder to source. He had been stopped, however, by that so unexpected and unfamiliar pang of hunger, and Mihail had been forced to direct himself towards a food stall instead. It was only intended as a small detour.
Passing one of the merchants a few coins in exchange for a single pear, enough to quench his hunger, for now, gaze shifting outwards to survey the rest of the crowd as he took a bite, hovering in the mild shade provided by the stall. The bowyer could wait, he supposed, especially when there were so many good-looking men and women roaming the market that day. A few were familiar to him, faces he had seen crossing the Agora on past visits. It was the ideal occasion to play the game too, as in this particular instance one might have been hard-pressed to identify Mihail as male or female, with such a carefully clean-shaven face, black kohl-rimmed eyes and hair that was so overdue a cropping that its thick curls fell to shoulder length. His choice of dress for the day might have provided some hint, the slightly tighter-than-usual-cinched garnet-red chiton paired with a sheer black himation that barely provided for the colder weather, and those classic silver viper-shaped pins holding it all together, but overall, he was hardly a picture of certainty.
The man who caught his eye now was of similar height to himself with nicely chiselled features, and it was over to this man that Mihail now strutted. He didn't quite appear the type that would be easily enamoured by another man, but the thought didn't cross his mind as he moved to wrap his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, so that all he could see were those thin fingers decorated with a set of pretty rings which curled up the length of them like the serpents they displayed. "I haven't seen you around here before," he hissed into the taller man's ear, smiling despite their positioning making it invisible to him. "But I appreciate the improved view."
Mihail did not eat all too often. Full meals seemed inconvenient, a waste of time which could otherwise be spent on more important matters. He made a habit of grazing, a sizeable bowl of fruits permanently seated on a table in his room beside one of the many empty jars of wine which so commonly littered his chamber, but, despite his apparent penchant for solitude, he was not always locked away within the Thanasi home. The outside world was not so well-prepared for his peculiarities, however, and despite the magical claims which surrounded his family, he couldn't quite conjure up something to eat whenever he willed.
On this unusually bright day in Azosios, Mihail had been in the city of Midas on urgent business. He had been visiting a contact of his who had been working on the production of a scholarly paper for him, some discussion of logic which was taking far too long to finish. Extravagant threats and blackmail were useful tools when it came to the man but, ultimately, he worked slowly with the intentions of crafting something exquisite - it was the reason the youngest Thanasi had selected him over all others to produce such works in his name. Still, he had been waiting a month now for the piece to be complete, and when he had leaned over the scholar's desk, and the man had glanced up from his work to meet Mihail's dark gaze, he had seen nothing short of panic at his delay. He had offered him another week, reminded him of the incentive of a few extra drachmae for his family in Nethisa on his success and the consequence of failure and had let him be.
With the matter dealt with, he had made his way to the market with intentions to talk to his favoured bowyer about an order for custom-designed arrows he had made a few days prior - despite the usual speediness of crafting arrows: their distinctiveness made their elements harder to source. He had been stopped, however, by that so unexpected and unfamiliar pang of hunger, and Mihail had been forced to direct himself towards a food stall instead. It was only intended as a small detour.
Passing one of the merchants a few coins in exchange for a single pear, enough to quench his hunger, for now, gaze shifting outwards to survey the rest of the crowd as he took a bite, hovering in the mild shade provided by the stall. The bowyer could wait, he supposed, especially when there were so many good-looking men and women roaming the market that day. A few were familiar to him, faces he had seen crossing the Agora on past visits. It was the ideal occasion to play the game too, as in this particular instance one might have been hard-pressed to identify Mihail as male or female, with such a carefully clean-shaven face, black kohl-rimmed eyes and hair that was so overdue a cropping that its thick curls fell to shoulder length. His choice of dress for the day might have provided some hint, the slightly tighter-than-usual-cinched garnet-red chiton paired with a sheer black himation that barely provided for the colder weather, and those classic silver viper-shaped pins holding it all together, but overall, he was hardly a picture of certainty.
The man who caught his eye now was of similar height to himself with nicely chiselled features, and it was over to this man that Mihail now strutted. He didn't quite appear the type that would be easily enamoured by another man, but the thought didn't cross his mind as he moved to wrap his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, so that all he could see were those thin fingers decorated with a set of pretty rings which curled up the length of them like the serpents they displayed. "I haven't seen you around here before," he hissed into the taller man's ear, smiling despite their positioning making it invisible to him. "But I appreciate the improved view."
Just as the tall curly haired Spiro handed the vendor his due payment a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders. The feeling wasn’t aggressive in nature and Spiro concluded that it was one of the many women he had managed to woo. Though the rings and slender fingers were new the man knew the beholder of such pretties was a rich aristocratic persons indeed. ”Oh not now darling it’s only noo-“
The voice was barely louder than the bustling market but it was unmistakably male. Spiro has. Ever been approached in such a manner by a man before and it frightened him but also excited him. A boyish grin spread over his face as his mind snaked around and thought on the situation.
By the mans position Spiro couldn’t see much of the man but he could tell that he was only a tad shorter than himself. From the attitude that he gave off he was a very sensual person. So Spiro gave in to the man’s wishes. Taking the newly purchased fruit Spiro held it to his lips.
”Thank you- I would say the same only I cannot see you.” Spiro grinned and bit into the fruit as his other hand reached up to the hands around him and lightly gripped one before bending down and twisting out of the mans hug.
The greecian man looked over the unfimiliar face. ”I am sorry to say that I do not know you,” Spiro swallowed the fruit as his eyes combed over the man, ”And I’ve been here since I was eleven”
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Just as the tall curly haired Spiro handed the vendor his due payment a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders. The feeling wasn’t aggressive in nature and Spiro concluded that it was one of the many women he had managed to woo. Though the rings and slender fingers were new the man knew the beholder of such pretties was a rich aristocratic persons indeed. ”Oh not now darling it’s only noo-“
The voice was barely louder than the bustling market but it was unmistakably male. Spiro has. Ever been approached in such a manner by a man before and it frightened him but also excited him. A boyish grin spread over his face as his mind snaked around and thought on the situation.
By the mans position Spiro couldn’t see much of the man but he could tell that he was only a tad shorter than himself. From the attitude that he gave off he was a very sensual person. So Spiro gave in to the man’s wishes. Taking the newly purchased fruit Spiro held it to his lips.
”Thank you- I would say the same only I cannot see you.” Spiro grinned and bit into the fruit as his other hand reached up to the hands around him and lightly gripped one before bending down and twisting out of the mans hug.
The greecian man looked over the unfimiliar face. ”I am sorry to say that I do not know you,” Spiro swallowed the fruit as his eyes combed over the man, ”And I’ve been here since I was eleven”
Just as the tall curly haired Spiro handed the vendor his due payment a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders. The feeling wasn’t aggressive in nature and Spiro concluded that it was one of the many women he had managed to woo. Though the rings and slender fingers were new the man knew the beholder of such pretties was a rich aristocratic persons indeed. ”Oh not now darling it’s only noo-“
The voice was barely louder than the bustling market but it was unmistakably male. Spiro has. Ever been approached in such a manner by a man before and it frightened him but also excited him. A boyish grin spread over his face as his mind snaked around and thought on the situation.
By the mans position Spiro couldn’t see much of the man but he could tell that he was only a tad shorter than himself. From the attitude that he gave off he was a very sensual person. So Spiro gave in to the man’s wishes. Taking the newly purchased fruit Spiro held it to his lips.
”Thank you- I would say the same only I cannot see you.” Spiro grinned and bit into the fruit as his other hand reached up to the hands around him and lightly gripped one before bending down and twisting out of the mans hug.
The greecian man looked over the unfimiliar face. ”I am sorry to say that I do not know you,” Spiro swallowed the fruit as his eyes combed over the man, ”And I’ve been here since I was eleven”
The way the man twisted away from Mihail, he was momentarily panicked that he might be loosening his grip with the intention of rushing away from him. Not all men were so open with their emotions or their sexuality as he and especially not so in a public place such as this; the majority were embarrassed even to imply homosexuality before others. He did not care so much: the family name was often enough to quell any significant attack and hence left him open to the option of most sexual partners. That said, panicked was perhaps a harsh term. If this man were not interested, then he would find another, though there might be a mildly irritable comment made to at least one of his sisters on the subject, and most certainly a note scribbled on some often-forgotten parchment that his advances had been rejected, with flimsy determination to do something on the matter at a later date.
Luckily, this was not the case. The twist ended with a turn in his direction and a grin which assured he was not hated for having approached with such romantic intentions. The way the current object of his desire had glanced over him indicated to him that the feelings were somewhat reciprocated. Mihail copied his actions, now paying attention to more than just that attractive face and strong jawline, gaze sliding downwards although there was not much to see and almost everything was left to his imagination. He did not mind so much: a little mystery made any situation sweeter.
Mihail would not deny he was marginally taken aback, however, when the man informed him that he had resided in Midas since the age of eleven and yet did not recognise him. Perhaps not by name, but the Thanasi had never thought himself subtle, so often decorated with his family's symbol as he was - one would be hard-pressed to imagine he was a member of any other house. One could hardly fault a lack of knowledge, however, when it only gave him more opportunity to charm the man.
Sticking a hand out before him, he tilted his head to one side, a smile curling onto his lips as he fluttered thick dark eyelashes at the man. "Lord Mihail of Thanasi," he introduced himself, waiting for his companion to place a soft kiss on the back of his hand as if he were indeed a lady. Then, in a fluid motion, he tugged the man closer to lean into his ear once more as his hand snaked down and rested on the small of the man's back, a somewhat suggestive movement. "But you can call me Lady, if you wish."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The way the man twisted away from Mihail, he was momentarily panicked that he might be loosening his grip with the intention of rushing away from him. Not all men were so open with their emotions or their sexuality as he and especially not so in a public place such as this; the majority were embarrassed even to imply homosexuality before others. He did not care so much: the family name was often enough to quell any significant attack and hence left him open to the option of most sexual partners. That said, panicked was perhaps a harsh term. If this man were not interested, then he would find another, though there might be a mildly irritable comment made to at least one of his sisters on the subject, and most certainly a note scribbled on some often-forgotten parchment that his advances had been rejected, with flimsy determination to do something on the matter at a later date.
Luckily, this was not the case. The twist ended with a turn in his direction and a grin which assured he was not hated for having approached with such romantic intentions. The way the current object of his desire had glanced over him indicated to him that the feelings were somewhat reciprocated. Mihail copied his actions, now paying attention to more than just that attractive face and strong jawline, gaze sliding downwards although there was not much to see and almost everything was left to his imagination. He did not mind so much: a little mystery made any situation sweeter.
Mihail would not deny he was marginally taken aback, however, when the man informed him that he had resided in Midas since the age of eleven and yet did not recognise him. Perhaps not by name, but the Thanasi had never thought himself subtle, so often decorated with his family's symbol as he was - one would be hard-pressed to imagine he was a member of any other house. One could hardly fault a lack of knowledge, however, when it only gave him more opportunity to charm the man.
Sticking a hand out before him, he tilted his head to one side, a smile curling onto his lips as he fluttered thick dark eyelashes at the man. "Lord Mihail of Thanasi," he introduced himself, waiting for his companion to place a soft kiss on the back of his hand as if he were indeed a lady. Then, in a fluid motion, he tugged the man closer to lean into his ear once more as his hand snaked down and rested on the small of the man's back, a somewhat suggestive movement. "But you can call me Lady, if you wish."
The way the man twisted away from Mihail, he was momentarily panicked that he might be loosening his grip with the intention of rushing away from him. Not all men were so open with their emotions or their sexuality as he and especially not so in a public place such as this; the majority were embarrassed even to imply homosexuality before others. He did not care so much: the family name was often enough to quell any significant attack and hence left him open to the option of most sexual partners. That said, panicked was perhaps a harsh term. If this man were not interested, then he would find another, though there might be a mildly irritable comment made to at least one of his sisters on the subject, and most certainly a note scribbled on some often-forgotten parchment that his advances had been rejected, with flimsy determination to do something on the matter at a later date.
Luckily, this was not the case. The twist ended with a turn in his direction and a grin which assured he was not hated for having approached with such romantic intentions. The way the current object of his desire had glanced over him indicated to him that the feelings were somewhat reciprocated. Mihail copied his actions, now paying attention to more than just that attractive face and strong jawline, gaze sliding downwards although there was not much to see and almost everything was left to his imagination. He did not mind so much: a little mystery made any situation sweeter.
Mihail would not deny he was marginally taken aback, however, when the man informed him that he had resided in Midas since the age of eleven and yet did not recognise him. Perhaps not by name, but the Thanasi had never thought himself subtle, so often decorated with his family's symbol as he was - one would be hard-pressed to imagine he was a member of any other house. One could hardly fault a lack of knowledge, however, when it only gave him more opportunity to charm the man.
Sticking a hand out before him, he tilted his head to one side, a smile curling onto his lips as he fluttered thick dark eyelashes at the man. "Lord Mihail of Thanasi," he introduced himself, waiting for his companion to place a soft kiss on the back of his hand as if he were indeed a lady. Then, in a fluid motion, he tugged the man closer to lean into his ear once more as his hand snaked down and rested on the small of the man's back, a somewhat suggestive movement. "But you can call me Lady, if you wish."
The nicely dressed male was flamboyant something Spiro refrained from in the public eyes. It not only called attention to him but made people draw closer. But the skilled street rat didn’t let his mask melt and drip from his face like hot wax under a flame. Instead he smirked and took the hand so graciously offered to him.
’I’ll play your game of prince and pauper’ Spiro thought as he bowed low bringing one arm up and putting the other against his gut. Not once did he take his deep chocolate eyes off of the regal before him.
Before righting himself he took the smaller much more delicate hand gingerly in his own and gave it a small peck. Mihail easily pulled Spiro closer to him once again this time their faces suddenly closer. To say Spiro was uncomfortable was not entirely the truth. A knot formed in his gut that felt like a caged bird fluttering to get out. But at the same time the greecian man felt the eyes of passerby’s on them.
Shivers were sent down his spine when he felt the hand, so delicate and yet so strong, trail to the small of his back. Spiro’s mind was dizzy with confusion, lust, and anxiety all at once. This was not typical for him to be like soft clay in the hands of an interested party. Especially when that other party was male, of course Spiro had never been with a man.
But what’s the fun in living if you don’t try new things?
”Perhaps we go somewhere more private,” Spiro struggled to clear his mind but the body of another against his own kicked the instincts of his upbringing into action. ”Away from cynical and unapproving eyes... Lady Mihail.” The name dropped off of Spiro’s lips like honey as he grinned at Mihail.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The nicely dressed male was flamboyant something Spiro refrained from in the public eyes. It not only called attention to him but made people draw closer. But the skilled street rat didn’t let his mask melt and drip from his face like hot wax under a flame. Instead he smirked and took the hand so graciously offered to him.
’I’ll play your game of prince and pauper’ Spiro thought as he bowed low bringing one arm up and putting the other against his gut. Not once did he take his deep chocolate eyes off of the regal before him.
Before righting himself he took the smaller much more delicate hand gingerly in his own and gave it a small peck. Mihail easily pulled Spiro closer to him once again this time their faces suddenly closer. To say Spiro was uncomfortable was not entirely the truth. A knot formed in his gut that felt like a caged bird fluttering to get out. But at the same time the greecian man felt the eyes of passerby’s on them.
Shivers were sent down his spine when he felt the hand, so delicate and yet so strong, trail to the small of his back. Spiro’s mind was dizzy with confusion, lust, and anxiety all at once. This was not typical for him to be like soft clay in the hands of an interested party. Especially when that other party was male, of course Spiro had never been with a man.
But what’s the fun in living if you don’t try new things?
”Perhaps we go somewhere more private,” Spiro struggled to clear his mind but the body of another against his own kicked the instincts of his upbringing into action. ”Away from cynical and unapproving eyes... Lady Mihail.” The name dropped off of Spiro’s lips like honey as he grinned at Mihail.
The nicely dressed male was flamboyant something Spiro refrained from in the public eyes. It not only called attention to him but made people draw closer. But the skilled street rat didn’t let his mask melt and drip from his face like hot wax under a flame. Instead he smirked and took the hand so graciously offered to him.
’I’ll play your game of prince and pauper’ Spiro thought as he bowed low bringing one arm up and putting the other against his gut. Not once did he take his deep chocolate eyes off of the regal before him.
Before righting himself he took the smaller much more delicate hand gingerly in his own and gave it a small peck. Mihail easily pulled Spiro closer to him once again this time their faces suddenly closer. To say Spiro was uncomfortable was not entirely the truth. A knot formed in his gut that felt like a caged bird fluttering to get out. But at the same time the greecian man felt the eyes of passerby’s on them.
Shivers were sent down his spine when he felt the hand, so delicate and yet so strong, trail to the small of his back. Spiro’s mind was dizzy with confusion, lust, and anxiety all at once. This was not typical for him to be like soft clay in the hands of an interested party. Especially when that other party was male, of course Spiro had never been with a man.
But what’s the fun in living if you don’t try new things?
”Perhaps we go somewhere more private,” Spiro struggled to clear his mind but the body of another against his own kicked the instincts of his upbringing into action. ”Away from cynical and unapproving eyes... Lady Mihail.” The name dropped off of Spiro’s lips like honey as he grinned at Mihail.
See, Mihail liked it when a man was willing to be a little more sensual in public. It was immensely rare that any man would take his hand in the way he offered it, as anything other than overt masculinity was not exactly desirable to most. They were very strict in their beliefs, and Mihail could only assume that he would have been as well had he not been raised in a household with the strong female figures that were his three sisters. He supposed he was thankful for the lack of prejudice that was thus ingrained in him.
People were watching - but, well, of course they were; the display wasn't quite 'normal' to them - but Mihail had no trouble with that. He pressed his hand more firmly against the other boy's back given that he was making no moves to separate the pair, and his following words did nought but confirm what he had hoped. Mm, perhaps he would have the delightful evening he had hoped for after all although, first, there was the matter of discovering his companion's name and, more importantly, whether there was any use to him outside of an afternoon of entertainment. Mihail might have seemed vapid in nature but he was anything but, and the back of his mind was always working to find the best way to turn someone into a useful tool for the future.
"Somewhere more private!" he exclaimed, as though in mock shock at the suggestion, making a show of considering all the places he could take him. He was not so stupid as to invite the man into his home on a first meeting - that was the kind of idiocy which allowed thieves to pilfer precious goods from noble homes - but he had a few ideas and enough contacts to work something out without too much of a struggle. " I know a man who I'm positive would be willing to provide us with a place to stay for a while - he owes me a favour." Several, rather, but his home was not too far from them and comfortable enough in every regard, and Mihail did not mind the pair of them spending a short while there. The bowyer could wait.
Pulling away again, he placed his hands on his hips, still smiling in the most provocative way he could muster, half turned as though to begin leading them away. "You've not yet told me your name. I know mystery is delightfully alluring, but it does make it easier on me if I know what I'll be shouting out tonight." It was somehow still more forward than his other comments that evening, but it felt appropriate for the occasion. "I want to know all about you. A question for a question, if it helps, I'm very open." Open in the topics he wished to be, at least, since, after all, everybody needed their secrets. This man may well have been good-looking, but that did not mean he was required to know everything about the youngest Thanasi's life.
"Come," Mihail gestured for the man to follow him, already starting to move in the direction of his contact's home. "It is not the longest walk away."
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See, Mihail liked it when a man was willing to be a little more sensual in public. It was immensely rare that any man would take his hand in the way he offered it, as anything other than overt masculinity was not exactly desirable to most. They were very strict in their beliefs, and Mihail could only assume that he would have been as well had he not been raised in a household with the strong female figures that were his three sisters. He supposed he was thankful for the lack of prejudice that was thus ingrained in him.
People were watching - but, well, of course they were; the display wasn't quite 'normal' to them - but Mihail had no trouble with that. He pressed his hand more firmly against the other boy's back given that he was making no moves to separate the pair, and his following words did nought but confirm what he had hoped. Mm, perhaps he would have the delightful evening he had hoped for after all although, first, there was the matter of discovering his companion's name and, more importantly, whether there was any use to him outside of an afternoon of entertainment. Mihail might have seemed vapid in nature but he was anything but, and the back of his mind was always working to find the best way to turn someone into a useful tool for the future.
"Somewhere more private!" he exclaimed, as though in mock shock at the suggestion, making a show of considering all the places he could take him. He was not so stupid as to invite the man into his home on a first meeting - that was the kind of idiocy which allowed thieves to pilfer precious goods from noble homes - but he had a few ideas and enough contacts to work something out without too much of a struggle. " I know a man who I'm positive would be willing to provide us with a place to stay for a while - he owes me a favour." Several, rather, but his home was not too far from them and comfortable enough in every regard, and Mihail did not mind the pair of them spending a short while there. The bowyer could wait.
Pulling away again, he placed his hands on his hips, still smiling in the most provocative way he could muster, half turned as though to begin leading them away. "You've not yet told me your name. I know mystery is delightfully alluring, but it does make it easier on me if I know what I'll be shouting out tonight." It was somehow still more forward than his other comments that evening, but it felt appropriate for the occasion. "I want to know all about you. A question for a question, if it helps, I'm very open." Open in the topics he wished to be, at least, since, after all, everybody needed their secrets. This man may well have been good-looking, but that did not mean he was required to know everything about the youngest Thanasi's life.
"Come," Mihail gestured for the man to follow him, already starting to move in the direction of his contact's home. "It is not the longest walk away."
See, Mihail liked it when a man was willing to be a little more sensual in public. It was immensely rare that any man would take his hand in the way he offered it, as anything other than overt masculinity was not exactly desirable to most. They were very strict in their beliefs, and Mihail could only assume that he would have been as well had he not been raised in a household with the strong female figures that were his three sisters. He supposed he was thankful for the lack of prejudice that was thus ingrained in him.
People were watching - but, well, of course they were; the display wasn't quite 'normal' to them - but Mihail had no trouble with that. He pressed his hand more firmly against the other boy's back given that he was making no moves to separate the pair, and his following words did nought but confirm what he had hoped. Mm, perhaps he would have the delightful evening he had hoped for after all although, first, there was the matter of discovering his companion's name and, more importantly, whether there was any use to him outside of an afternoon of entertainment. Mihail might have seemed vapid in nature but he was anything but, and the back of his mind was always working to find the best way to turn someone into a useful tool for the future.
"Somewhere more private!" he exclaimed, as though in mock shock at the suggestion, making a show of considering all the places he could take him. He was not so stupid as to invite the man into his home on a first meeting - that was the kind of idiocy which allowed thieves to pilfer precious goods from noble homes - but he had a few ideas and enough contacts to work something out without too much of a struggle. " I know a man who I'm positive would be willing to provide us with a place to stay for a while - he owes me a favour." Several, rather, but his home was not too far from them and comfortable enough in every regard, and Mihail did not mind the pair of them spending a short while there. The bowyer could wait.
Pulling away again, he placed his hands on his hips, still smiling in the most provocative way he could muster, half turned as though to begin leading them away. "You've not yet told me your name. I know mystery is delightfully alluring, but it does make it easier on me if I know what I'll be shouting out tonight." It was somehow still more forward than his other comments that evening, but it felt appropriate for the occasion. "I want to know all about you. A question for a question, if it helps, I'm very open." Open in the topics he wished to be, at least, since, after all, everybody needed their secrets. This man may well have been good-looking, but that did not mean he was required to know everything about the youngest Thanasi's life.
"Come," Mihail gestured for the man to follow him, already starting to move in the direction of his contact's home. "It is not the longest walk away."
