[IC] A Touch of Sin |closed|

[EasilyAmused]

“That all depends on how well they can see. If they are blind, deaf and moronic then they may not realize just how amazing you are.” Jett stated in a simple manor before engaging with the waiter. Muggles smelled different than witches and wizards. Just like werewolves smelled different than vampires. Werewolves smelled like wet dog that just rolled in their own feces. Witches and Wizards had more of a cinnamon smell, reminding one of fresh baked cinnamon bread. Muggles (also known as Humans) smelled like a fresh forest just after a spurt of rain. Fresh and delicious; it wasn’t often that Jett got close enough to a muggleborn witch to smell a mix of the two. It was almost intoxicating but not enough to cause him to lose control. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her off.

The informal nature of the date made things a lot more comfortable and the introduction of the wine seemed to bring around an air of relaxation and calmness as his pull lessened to next to nothing when they were finally left alone. After observing her as she told her story he came to a surprising realization. She was telling the truth. There was a heartfelt moment behind that story and he felt for her. Not enough to be enchanted or tricked by any means but he did feel bad for her. She didn’t come from the best of backgrounds but she did find her way out of a dark spot and into something like the Ministry to find peace.

Peace, ha if the Ministry knew anything of peace, they would leave the vampires alone and let them live out their lives. Most vampires who had steady heads on their shoulders worked honest jobs and lived off of cow’s blood; it’s disgusting but it can be done. Others work in Hospitals, helping those in need, curing diseases, tending to the wounded and injured, mending those who are broking and take a couple bags of blood from vault below the hospital. If the Ministry followed through with their plans to eliminate the vampire race, they would lose a lot of good people doing good work.

When she asked how he ended up in music he decided to share a bit of honesty with her as well. “I wanted to make my parents mad.” A cheeky grin found its way across his fine lips as his straight pearly whites flashed across the table at her. “I suppose my parents would rather have their money do the talking for me instead of me talking for my money. I’ve yet to touch a single cent they’ve attempted to send me and I know it’s driving them crazy.” A small chuckle left him as he picked up the glass, “I apologize, that probably makes me sound like a spoiled brat. But if you can’t earn what you have than you don’t deserve it.” Lifting his broad shoulders in his white dress shirt, he took a drink of the liquid. The delicious flavor of the expensive wine was relaxing; allowing the flavor to breathe a little more he stirred the semi-clear white wine. After a moment he took another drink before cupping the glass gently in his large hand.

“I found I had a knack for music and ran with the opportunity as soon as it arose. I’m sorry to say my story isn’t as fascinating as it could be.” Giving her a small nod, a simple smile moved across his face; a relaxed calm smile saying that he does, in fact, enjoy her presence. “So you’ve met my crazy ex-girlfriend, I don’t have to worry about any of your exs chasing me down after we step outside and all the press snap countless photos right? Or should we go out the back way?” His voice was playful as he watched her closely and took another drink of his wine. He liked a challenge and she sure was one.

[El Taco Taco]

Well-- he certainly didn't mince words. Blind, deaf, and moronic, huh? Despite herself, a pleased smirk lit Mia's lips. It wasn't every day that incredibly wealthy, talented, and famous musicians called mere Aurors amazing. It was even more impressive that he had deigned that upon what he believed to be a lowly Patrol Officer, not a woman tasked with killing him. She couldn't forget that-- she had to keep that close to her heart. Even though he'd clearly eased up on his animal magnetism, it was still difficult to keep her focus. Mia ignored the implications of that. She was simply playing a part. She had to get him to trust her, had to get his guard down. She ignored the uncomfortable twinge in her gut. He was a vampire, and vampires were dangerous. Even if Jett seemed, for the most part, like a relatively normal man just trying to navigate the tumultuous waters of fame. Dangerous, she reminded herself, a mantra that didn't quite sit well with her.

Mia listened attentively as he divulged what seemed to be a touch of honesty himself. The wine sat untouched as she studied him, rather fascinated. A small part of her, the poor, angry girl who'd grown up in the ghetto, was in disbelief. He came from money, but he'd forged out on his own. He could have lost everything, could have ended up in the gutter with a gamble like that, how stupid-- except, he hadn't failed. His charisma was supernatural, sure, and maybe even his talent was, but he had taken a huge risk. She wasn't sure if she was impressed or contemptuous. Perhaps he'd been naïve, or simply too proud to be sensible, but at the end of the day, he'd made a name for himself and achieved glory. She ignored the petty, jealous voice, squashing it viciously. She wasn't fourteen anymore. The cards had been stacked in his favour, but she couldn't blame him for taking advantage of them. Mia Ramirez had been a Slytherin, after all, and she understood the value of using every edge at her disposal.

"A little spoiled, at first," she agreed finally, taking a sip of her wine, marveling at the play of flavours dancing across her tongue. "But I don't see anything wrong in that. We all have to become our own people at some point. It's clear you've been quite successful at carving out your own path. You could have sat back and indulged all your life without ever lifting a finger. That's a tempting offer. You're to be commended for earning your success, I think."

He brought up her exes, and her hand tightened reflexively on her wine glass, her other hand moving to her wand. The glass snapped beneath the pressure and she swore rapidly in Spanish and English, leaping to her feet, desperate to save her dress. She made good money, but not such good money that ruining a designer gown wasn't horrifying to imagine. Mia began rushing apologies, moving to clean up the mess, cheeks burning with shame. It was stupid. Somehow, hearing him say it like that, ‘chasing me down after I sleep’, had triggered her fight or flight instinct. Flashes of memory—her bedroom, his hands at her throat, her wand just out of reach, the sting of curses, the desperate bid for survival, her thumbs in his eyes, his foot stomping on her rib cage, the curious wheeze of bone through lung, Cohen’s bloodied face swimming in the glare of St. Mungo’s lights, the assurances of Azkaban, the whispers on the grapevine that he’d bribed his way out—Merlin, she’d never felt so pathetic before in her life. Some Auror, her ego whispered contemptuously. Mia gripped the napkin she’d tried to clean the mess up with tightly, willing herself calm. Everything would be fine. She’d moved somewhere unplottable and layered every inch of her flat with protective spells. She still had a week (no, five days now), until he got out. He’d caught her off guard last time. She wouldn’t be so stupid this time. Hell, even this undercover gig in the Patrol would help protect her. He wouldn’t find her. Mia methodically swept the shattered glass into the napkin, trying to find calm in the motion. She needed air, needed to get away, but she had work to do—

“I’m sorry, I’m such a brute,” she forced out the charming laugh, hated how hollow it sounded, “You can see why I don’t go to fancy places. I always break something expensive.”