undergrounds | There is but one man in the world I love… (Closed to Cesare)

Popping. Locking. Bumping. Grinding. Since getting out of Meryton, Lydia's eyes have really been opened. Long gone are the elegant waltzes she had dutifully practiced to shut her mother up. Now Lydia spends every weekend, and then some, in London's clubs. Vodka flows, money is swallowed by hungry registers and Lydia stumbles out, exhausted and in search of cheesy chips, chicken nuggets and gravy.

Tonight though, she's gone someplace a little classier. She''s on the last of her money, but for now, she doesn't care. Lydia's learned enough to work out how to get guys to buy her drinks. Who needs magic when they have charm in buckets? Even several vodkas later though, Lydia's alert enough to spot a famous face when he walks in, and what a handsome face.

She zeroes in, dancing closer and closer to Cesare in what she supposes is a subtle manner, until after about half an hour of careful inching and meandering back and forth from nearby, she accidentally on purpose bangs into him.

"Oh my, I am so sorry!" she twitters, eyelashes batting and not sounding at all sorry.
"I didn't see you there, though how I managed to miss a man so handsome is beyond me."

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(SORRY - Moderation week at school has been horrendously busy!)

She half smiles to herself as she's turned, suddenly shy. lost for reassurance, she reaches back with her hands, stroking the sides of his legs where she can reach. In her head, she's almost screaming with the thrill of it all as he plays with her zip. In a few short minutes, this man - this stranger - is going to see her naked. In the whole whirlwind of it all, Lydia's not even sure that she knows his name. And then his question whispers in her ear, and she's brought back to reality. Hard nos? What does that even mean?

She leans her head back against him. "I don't mind. You can take complete control." That's how it should be, right? She's not daft - she's read her mother's copy of 'Fifty Shades'; he better not be planning that, though. That's not what he means, right? Well, too late. She's already spoken and her answer has helped in that it avoids her having to admit that she has no idea what she's doing. A little shiver of a thrill runs through her.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

That's an answer that Cesare is perfectly happy to hear. Nancy had always taken the meeker role with him in the past and it seems that she's passed the knowledge on to Lydia. He has no complaints. He prefers it that way, taking charge. In fact, that's most of the thrill of it. He smiles at her.

"Just relax," he says with a smirk and pushes her on to the bed.

The rest of their time together, Cesare is too caught up in himself to really notice that Lydia doesn't quite know what she's doing. She's playing innocent, he thinks, and she's good at it. By the time he's fully had his way with her, he's already planning on their next meeting. It's a good act of hers. He'd be happy to do it again.

"We should do this again sometime," he says as he reaches for his shirt.

Those past… oh, she doesn't know how long it was…. were the most wonderful moments of her life.

She sits up on the mattress, no longer particularly shy about showing her body to him. It's not like he's a stranger any more, is it?

"Can we?" She asks, almost breathlessly as she marvels at his body. "Do you want my number? You can phone me whenever then!"

Wow. Ok. She's keen. To be honest, Cesare isn't exactly complaining. He likes it when someone is reliable and professional. It had always irked Cesare whenever Nancy acted as if she was potentially above his business.

"Sure. Give me your card." Nancy's given her her own cards, right?

He'll call her when he wants her services again, which probably won't be for a couple of weeks. But it's always good to keep her card on hand. Cesare has a rolodex.

"My card?" She responds, initially puzzled. But then it clicks. "Oh, right."

She scrambles for her bag, and hastily pulls out her plastic UCL student card. It's quite plain, with her photo and student number on it. Hastily, she flips it over and with a Sharpie, scribbles her mobile number above the barcode on the back.
"Here," she says, handing it over. "Sorry it's a bit scratched. I dropped it in the gym the other day."

....That wasn't what Cesare had expected. He squints at her for a second from under a furrowed brow, but ultimately pockets the ID. Fine. Whatever she wants to do. He's not judging.

"If this is an open invitation to your room, I'm afraid I don't intend on coming back here." This place is a hot mess and he doesn't find it charming, despite Lydia's attempts to twist it into something endearing.

"Next time, you can come to me." He gives her a small smile and reaches into his wallet, pulling out some money, presuming she has similar rates to Nancy, plus a generous tip.

"So you can buy another nice dress for next time we meet..."

"Wow, thanks!" She's not complaining about the money - maybe this man just wants his girlfriend to be well dressed, to match him? Maybe he's clocked on that she's a student and has next to no money?

"You want to meet again?" she asks, unaccustomedly shy all of a sudden. "I'd like that. You can just call me, you know, whenever."

Whenever. That sounds...eager. That's just how Cesare likes it. He prefers it when his employees are polite and provide a good service. He smiles as he finishes putting his clothes back on.

"I'll see you around then, Ms....?" He can't remember if she even told him her name, so he pulls out the card she gave him and gives it a read. "...Lydia. Take care for now."

There is but one man in the world I love… (Closed to Cesare)

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