It was a show night, she way playing The Leaky Cauldron and the crowd was massive. Packed to capacity and boy did it go to town on Romilda's ego. The smirk that she wore was damned near constant the entire show. The smile that was on her face, as always was a bit forced, but the feelings (the little that were there) were real. She was as happy as her unfeeling sex driven, mildy psychotic ass could get. Alcohol, adrenaline, and sex were the driving force in her right now.  Belting out the last words of her favorite song she closed the show and left the stage. She used to avoid the crowds and their grabby hands, but now it only added to the high.


Heading to the bar she found a stool ordered her drink and then made her way towards the VIP section. Stepping inside of the little area that was only ever set up for when shows like this happened she sat down and crossed her long legs. She loved magic, and how they expanded the place magically for shows and such. Ordering a whiskey sour she sat and took a long pull from the glass once it was handed to her and allowed her head to fall back. She took in a slow long breath before letting it out. Feeling as if she was being watched she opened her eyes.


"Is there a reason you are watching me?" She asked with a sneer.


Jaxon Jameson Cole


Outfit

If there was anything Jaxon hated, it was winter. The cold was detestable--AND it was the off-season for Quidditch. Fuck the off-season. He still went for runs and flew every day, but he had a lot, a lot more free time on his hands. It meant he went to see his momma more and also went out on the town more often. Tonight, he was flying solo at some gig his agent had sent him tickets to. Good to see and be seen, the guy had said. So, here he was...seeing and being seen.

The velvet rope of the VIP lounge kept him detached though, from the crowd. The tall seeker had certainly been seen plenty. Many a witch--and wizard--had made rounds in front of the private section hoping to catch his eye...and yes, he looked--he enjoyed the little display, let it stroke his vanity--and maybe, later, closer to time to head home, he'd invite one of them back to join him. He didn't really want to have to do all the work of conversation, when he didn't have to. It wasn't like he was going to meet someone to be more than a one night stand in that mass of faces.

A woman made it past the bouncer and took a seat at the exclusive little bar. Jaxon thought she looked faintly familiar, but couldn't place the face. He had been trying to do just that (and decide if he'd shagged her) when she reciprocated his attention. Her pretty features morphed into something repulsive and his scoffed.

"Bitch, please-" he scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Ain't no reason to be rude." Jaxon looked away from her, reaching for the tallboy of German brew he had to his side.

Outfit

Tilting her head to the side Romilda watched the man for a moment and then decided to appologize. Something the witch never did, but she had been very rude. Swallowing another drink from the glass she uncrossed her legs and sat up, pushing the hair from her face with both hands, after she put her glass down of course. ”Sorry. Still in post show cool down, and I can be a right twat when I want to be. I didn't intend to be rude. “ Merlin, he was handsome, though she knew that he knew it as well. Not that she minded that at all she liked a little steak with her meat.

She watched him for a moment before standing, taking her glass with her and came to sit closer by him. Sitting down she nodded her head to the man. ”I'm Romilda Vane.” She said simply. She usually left it open for other people to tell her who they were, but he was in the VIP section so that meant something. She looked him over before looking out over the crowd. Tall and lean, muscular, he had a tan that was slightly faded, and his hands looked like they were well taken care of. Hm, that made it easy and down to a few things. He had no calluses that would mark him a musician.... Quidditch.

”You're a seeker, right?”

Jaxon battled a smirk feeling her eyes lingering on him. His slight smartass streak really wanted to throw the same question in that same arrogant tone back at the witch, but he resisted. He was not petty and the thought provided him as much amusement as the actual act would have. He didn't look back her way. He just nursed his beer and watched the crowd. It wasn't until that magic little word passed her lips --sorry--that the seeker awarded her with his attention and a dazzling smile.

"No worries, we can all get a bit edgy sometimes....I was lookin' at ya, anyways. Tryin' to place that purdy face--" The seeker punctuated the compliment with a wink--his easy grin causing his dimple to appear as he spoke, "guess that betrays how much I paid attention to the show, in my defense --ain't really able to see shite from back 'ere, y'all sounded real good though," Jaxon drawled out his response. Easily slipping back into his conversational, friendly self now hat the woman had attempted to make amends for her attitude.

She came closer, joining him uninvited but welcome. He was making her work a little bit still. The really pretty ones always needed to be made to work for it a little. Otherwise, they thought they had the power. Jax's small chauvinistic streak could not allow for that. She gave her name. Romilda Vane---awesome last name with a first name right out of a children's book....or was that Matilda? Who knew--

He decided immediately, he'd be calling her Rom.

She seemed to be analyzing him while he had being doing the same to his body--her question about his career implied she recognized him in some way or was brilliant at deductive reasoning....a regular Sherlock with tits. He nodded, "that's right---Jaxon Cole, seeker for the Arrows. Pleasure to meet you, Rom, maybe I can buy you another one of those ," he gestured to her drink, "to show there are no hard feelins." A reward for her remorseful behavior and for joining him. Some of the girls who had been rotating by the velvet rope were shooting the wrockstar jealous glares as they passed and saw her occupying the coveted seat at his side. His arm was slung over the back of Romilda's seat, not touching her, but creating the illusion of some degree of intimacy.

Jaxon turned his head towards the Vane--That cocky, come hither grin playing on his lips. Maybe he'd take her home tonight, because really in the end--a hook up was why he was here.

Romilda preened under his praise and tossed her long locks away from her face with practiced ease blinking her large eyes at him before the smile spread to those eyes making them sparkle. ”Oh, It's quite alright, we are more about how we sound and less how we look. It's the whole reason we have gotten where we are now.” She said before winking a little and laughing, playfully. She loved this, being complimented and feeling that someone was interested. She didn't always want to be the one to do the chasing and this bloke seemed like the chase.


Romilda had been right, and the slow smile that spread her face was accompanied by a quirk of her eyebrow. ”That would be brilliant, Jaxon. Rum and Coke please. “ That accent was something else and she chuckled at the women that stared jealously. ”Oh, poor things. Damn right shattered they are. Should we give them a show then? Something to really hate me for or are they hating you, that is the question.” She said with a small laugh.

This type was the easiest to woo. He knew just how to lure in the vain narcissist who was accustomed to but ever craved praise and validation, especially from a fellow ten, which Jax knew he was. Romilda was a looker, too, not a blonde--but still plenty easy on the eyes.

When his companion consented to another round as a gesture of goodwill, he gestured to the man behind the bar for two more. He would have his beer drank by the time the next arrived. He finished it in one turn up of the tall glass.

Rom also had noticed their revolving audience, it seemed-- and her words brought a smirk to the seeker's lips. A chuckled rose from his chest and he brought the arm that was away from her up and across the two of them until his knuckles were brushing along her jaw. "A little bit of both, I'd bet," he suggested, as his touch drifted over her smooth skin, down to her chin, tilting her face up towards his a bit. She was the one to suggest putting on a show. He enjoyed the attention as much as anyone. The man leaned closer ever so slightly, but instead of kissing her, Jaxon drug his thumb over her bottom lip before letting the contact fall away as he leaned back in his chair as their drinks arrived.

She watched him, swallowing softly as she watched his throat work as he drank, her eyes going to how he held the glass tightly and her mind produced an image of him holding her arm like that, about her head. Biting her lip she sighed softly and looked at her with her large eyes. As he touched her skin she had to school herself to not rub against him like a cat when being petted. Her eyes were closed until he spoke and then she opened them to look into his dark eyes with her own.

When he broke their contact and didn’t kiss her she whimpered a little bit. Taking her drink she took a long pull from it before setting it aside, licking her lips a little. Casting her eyes side ways she smirked as the girls walk away. That didn’t mean that she didn’t want that damned kiss. She smirked at the male and bit her lip again. ”They’ve left, looked in a right tiff too. Shall I reward you now then, or should I ask to claim a kiss as my prize?”

Jaxon smirked as he watched the girls storm away. The narcissist in him craved the desire he got from the fan girls, but they weren't who had his attention now. No, when his dark eyes turned to the woman at his side, the rest of the room faded for him. A laugh rumbled from his chest and he shook his head no in response to her words.

"I do the rewarding," he declared--challenge and authority in both his eyes and bass gravelly voice. A wolfish smirk took over his face and he slipped his hand into Rom's hair. A rough jerk tilted her head back and he gave the reward she had half-asked for--kissing her hard. He needed that--that ferocity. He did not want kindness or love--he craved something else...and something about the woman next to him made him believe she was capable of providing the outlet for sexual energy and tension that he was looking for. Jax was quite good at knowing when a lover would be his brand of submissive.