Severin smiled hearing everything Jacen had to say. He was thoughtful and considerate, traits Severin often found difficult to come by. There was also the way he blushed from simple praise that interested Severin greatly. He rather enjoyed seeing Jacen change colors like that. As he mentioned an opportunity to show him in person, that smile turned to a grin.
"Oh, with a tantalizing offer like that, how could I possibly refuse?" Severin mused aloud before adding in,
"I would absolutely love an opportunity to see you up close and personal, my dear."
Severin was slowly sipping his drink and paused to raise up a hand. He beckoned one of the servers to his little booth-like table and ordered a bottle of sweet champagne, having finished off his gifted glass. He considered what the Pits were like and took a soft breath, his chest rising with the soft inhale.
"You're only worth what you can bleed for.... If you don't sell pain, you're not profitable." He murmured softly turning over his thoughts.
"A good slave dies fast.... and well... A great slave dies slow and exciting. The owners don't count any of the victories. They count the ticket sales.... They do feed you like a king the day before they kill you when you're getting too old to 'preform' though."
He let the sayings fall from his lips like old mantras, worn and bitter with time spent living that harsh reality.
"The lap of luxury is a well-sought after position despite all that... to be on the other side and give in to your every whim and pleasure... it's a fantasy in the dark. I say we deserve to be spoiled on occasion..." he purred, moving to take the bottle as it was brought by the server, seemingly insisting on pouring a glass for Jacen himself. He slid the fancy flute filled with pink bubbling liquid across the table with a faint smile.
"It does not hurt to indulge in our more base vices every now and then, after all."
He then poured himself some of that sweet strawberry-vanilla champagne, setting the bottle down and his own flute aside afterwards. From his tunic, he pulled a frilled kerchief and reached out to the table where some of the fizzy pour had spilled near Jacen. The cloth slipped from his fingers, and dropped accidentally closer to Jacen's side hitting the booth bench and slipping on to the floor,
"Drat." He sighed and shifted gently in his seat as if readying to reach slip down and fetch the lost bit of cloth only to see Jacen move to do so first.
He smiled, looking down at the gentle lad, and reached out, but instead of immediately taking the handkerchief back, Severin let his slender fingers slip into those dark tresses, combing through them in a slow, affectionate pet. His touch was light, and indulgent, though not meant to linger.
"Well aren't you just a helpful sweetheart," he murmured, voice warm and low, turning his hand to let the back of his knuckles graze Jacen's cheek in a brief, tender caress.
Only then did he finally take the kerchief, casually moving to dab up the minor spill with a quiet hum, as though nothing had happened at all.
"Thank you ~"
He finished cleaning up the minor spill, dabbing the last few droplets away with delicate precision before setting the kerchief aside. Then, with a smooth motion, he turned those soft blue eyes lifting to meet Jacen's directly.
There was no hesitation in his gaze, no shyness. Just unwavering eye contact that held with quiet confidence, a little too steady to be casual.
"But yes... you are correct," he said, his voice silken.
"I've learned to take quite good care of myself on my own."
Then his tone shifted, dipping into something playfully suspicious, just enough to tease with velvet claws.
"But tell me… is this how you take care of yourself?" he asked, head tilting ever so slightly as his eyes flicked toward Jacen's glass, as if catching him in the act of trying to numb something deeper. His smile lingered though it seemed a little too knowing.
"Or did something else bring you here this fine evening?"
Jacen Breska
Drystan Creed
had all but vanished, swallowed by the storm as war spilled right up to the steps of the Jedi Temple. Even the so-called safe zones weren't safe anymore. As he crossed the invisible line out of once-protected territory, Severin found himself briefly wondering what had become of
Tilon Quill
, but only briefly. There was no point clinging to shadows of the past...
