/ jump into the fog

[layla sinclair]

butterflies gripped her stomach as she turned to and fro before the mirror, scrutinising every inch of her appearance. silken lace clung tightly to her lithe figure, the sheer fabric at odds with the high neck and long sleeves. it wasn't anything like layla would usually wear, but tonight was different. tonight stevie was her date and it wouldn't be like any other night between the two, tonight she was going to make a lasting impression. she prayed the dress was just the thing that would make him unable to keep his hands off her, to have compliments flowing from him flowing and those handsome hazel eyes on her and her alone. for weeks now layla had become more and more entranced by the man. and while some days she thought she was destined to be considered a little sister to him, lately she knew the dynamics were shifting. his charming dulcet tones tinged with that accent replied in her head, compliments from the night before as they sat tucked up together on her couch, layla continuously and ravenously picking at the food he'd prepared, trying not to seem greedy or piggish even though his cooking was irresistible. everything she did around him was a careful balance between keeping up her attempts of being perfect and letting herself relax at his insistence. she spent 2 hours getting ready just to look perfectly disshevled and like she had made no effort. she allowed herself the pleasure of his cooking while counting up the extra hours she would spend in the gym the next day to counter the calories. she laughed at the movie she didn't particularly find funny to please him, to keep him coming back to these simple nights in that meant the world to her. slender fingers travelled over her hips and waist, finding imperfections where there were none, wishing she were just that little bit thinner, but at the same time a little more shapely, desperate to find a balance between the kind of girl stevie wanted and the kind of girl she aspired to be. the kind of girl she had to be. she blushed through her professionally made up face at the faint traces of her underwear through the dress but she straightened and brushed it off. she wasn't a kid anymore, she could pull this off. she picked up her clutch from the bed, her butterflies twisting and gnawing away at her insides, as voices carried in from the other room. those familiar deep sounds of stevie's voice mixing with the airy voice of sylvia and layla smiled. weeks ago her maid, the middle aged english woman, had travelled home for the birth of her first grandchild and layla didn't realise how much she depended on the woman. not to cook for her or clean up after her, because a girl like layla ate little and left little mess in her wake, but just to care for her. just the little things like hoping layla got home safely at night, or picking up her favourite flowers when layla had had a bad day on set. she was everything layla had ever wanted in a mother, a grandmother and a best friend rolled into a plump, darling old lady. having returned this morning, layla was over the moon to have sylvia back and had been on cloud 9 all day to no longer be left alone in the spacious hotel suite. layla tentatively stepped out of her bedroom to meet the two people waiting for her, not daring to look anywhere but stevie's face desperate for approval from him. sylvia had already tutted and fussed over the dress, insisting layla wear a slip, despite her stylists protests. the housekeeper had disapprovingly shook her head every time she glanced at the dress as it hung in the hall waiting to be worn, but when layla had slipped it on the proud smile she had tried to hide was hard to miss. she'd still fussed but she was sure to give layla her approval in a small kiss to her cheek before telling her she looked beautiful. layla had beamed then, but now she was growing more uncertain by the minute. her house keeper was one thing, stevie was another entirely. he grinned broadly as he caught sight of her, and she smiled back, hiding her blushing cheeks as she ducked her had modestly. "so?" she asked, stopping to pose and allow him a full appreciation before spinning slowly. "what do you think?" she asked as she made her way to him in his dashing tux. sylvia fussed some more, around the couple and layla blushed deeper as she bid her goodnight and they slipped into the elevator and made their way down to the waiting car. layla was tongue tied, after weeks of easy conversation, of her settling into a comfortable friendship with stevie, but for the moment the sheerness of her dress and how handsome he was in his tux left her lost for words. their proximity was all too apparent to her now that she was tucked beside him in the backseat of the car, her butterflies rampaged on but finally she managed to get a hold of her tongue. "you look so handsome" she complimented in soft purring tones, hoping she sounded sexy instead of scared. "thank you so much for coming with me." she paused "i am terrified to turn up to these kinds of things without a date." it was true. layla had a reputation for turning up with whatever beau was on her radar at the time, but rarely were these kind of events ever romantic. usually it was a lot of red carpet shots, a lot of sitting around and usually she was slipping out the back early, either because her date had found a better offer once he'd gotten there and gotten sick of her or because she would get sick of the limelight and disappear. there honestly couldn't have been a worse example of a celebrity's child in the world. soon, the car pulled to a stop and as the door opened, the camera's started flashing. layla's stomach plummeted to the bottom of her expensive shoes, she wanted to chicken out right then and there. her dress was ridiculous, they would eat her alive. she didn't move in the backseat of the car, even though stevie moved to get out. he turned back to her and she tried to compose herself, she tried not to look like a deer in headlights. he took her hand and they slipped out of the car, into the rush of photographers. putting on her usual 'press' face, she smiled sweetly giving stevie's hand a squeeze in thanks, straightening as she channeled her idol elizabeth taylor and sauntered down the red carpet with stevie's arm around her. as they got inside, she almost visibly sagged as soon as they were away from the camera's. "thank you" she smiled up at him, not bothering to explain why she was thankful. "do you mind if i just slip away for a moment?" she asked, biting her lip and hoping he didn't think she was running away. she ducked into the bathroom, watching her wide eyed self in the mirror she calmed down and walked serenely from the bathroom, her nerves finally coming under control. that was until she saw stevie with an unfamiliar but extremely beautiful brunette talking and her heart sank to the floor. TAGGED: @stevie & @harvin WEARING: sexyyy NOTES:coding by susan. this was horrible i'm so so sorry.

[Deleted]

With the sweet and rhythmic sounds of old jazz playing in the distant background, Stevie Evans stared into a slightly steamed filled mirror, and attempted to style his hair. As his feet moved to the music, and his lips were pursed and ready to whistle, he gelled and combed, and gelled and combed some more, until he finally pulled a neat and suave look he was pleased with. After changing into his tux and slipping on his watch, he grabbed his wallet and headed out the front door of his top floor apartment. The night was young, and once he stepped outside and into the moonlight, he stretched for all the world to see and mentally prepared himself for the long night ahead. Attending worldwide events was as common to Stevie as was the necessity to eat and drink to any human being. He had never grown up being afraid of crowds of people, their statuses and power, and to be honest, he often welcomed it all, finding his charming smile and clever words drew in the needed individuals to make his time at these things that much more enjoyable. But tonight was slightly different, as his date wasn't a girlfriend or a girl he had just met a few hours before, but a close friend of his. It had been a while since he took a girl friend of his to an event, often preferring to avoid the press and their pairings, when it was clear he cared for the girl like his own sister. He was sure it was bound to happen regardless this time around too, but he figured Layla and himself would find the whole thing something to bring up at a later time when they needed a good laugh. After greeting Sylvia with a hug, Stevie followed her into the living room and took a seat on one of the plush couches in Layla's living room. His eagerness grew too quickly though, and he soon found himself up and making his way to her room. But when he knocked and she yelled for him not to come in, he sighed. With a frown and slouched shoulders in defeat, he retreated, finding Sylvia attempting to cover a grin once he plopped back down on the couch. When Layla did finally enter the living room in her dress for the evenings event, Stevie's eyes widened and he had to catch himself before his dripping jaw dirtied her floor. She was a knock out. Not that he hadn't expected it, the thin framed girl had very pretty facial features, a great body and legs that went of for miles. It was sometimes hard for him to believe that she was twenty-one. A feeling of protectiveness soon fell over him though as he watched her twirl, his mind already wandering to the ogling men and the cameras he knew would be waiting the instant they arrived. Though he knew he was her date, his brotherly instincts were already in full swing, and he struggled with a smile to reassure her that she looked fine, when in reality all he wanted to do was tear off a curtain from her window and wrap her in the thick silk material until she was mummified. Once in the backseat of their town car Stevie met Layla's eyes when she complimented his attire. He chuckled a little and tugged on his coat. "This old thing? Ah, well I told you I had a few of these snazzy things hanging out. Like I said, I live in tuxes and suits." Stevie's wardrobe was probably equally as large as a female socialites, and sometimes it was even unfathomable to others that he liked clothes so much. But Stevie genuinely enjoyed dressing well and being noticed, whether he was wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt or a suit. And there was never a day that went by where he walked out of his home looking a mess. As streets signs and streets lights flickered past them, Stevie pulled his gaze from downtown and looked over at Layla and noticed her fidgeting. He casually placed a hand on hers and grinned. "Alright, enough of those nerves. And enough thanking me. Tonight might be about charity, but it's also about you showing those press bastards you're a star and you aren't afraid of them. You're looking too gorgeous to be this nervous," he said. When they finally arrived at the event, Stevie moved to exit the car first, but found Layla frozen and still inside. Shielding the side of his face with one hand, he leaned forward and offered his other hand, reassuring her that he would be right with her the whole night. It wasn't long before they were bombarded by cameras, and immediately ushered inside with other celebrities, whom they casually greeted once the commotion calmed down. Stevie took a chance to talk with George Clooney, and made a charming and joking pass at Stacy Keibler, who merely shook her head with a grin, while George laughed. They eventually encountered a few others who they politely conversed with soon after, Stevie keeping Layla close and comfortable, and making sure to check that she was enjoying herself. After about thirty minutes or so, Layla pulled him to the side. When she thanked him, he looked at her confused, but smiled and shook his head. But before he could ask for what, she excused herself and headed toward the restroom. After checking his phone for missed messages, Stevie went and grabbed a glass of champagne as he waited for his date. He politely greeted a few other individuals who passed him, as he sipped away, before glancing over a small hedge to see the newest flock of guests arrive. But when Harvin appeared out of the crowd, Stevie's face dropped and tension began to build in the back of his neck, shoulders and jaw. And Felix thought he was joking. He just couldn't escape Harvin Meyers. The woman of his dreams years ago was now his worst nightmare, and there remained not even a figment of herself that he could see now that he once adored, finding instead a woman hardened and hell bent on making his life a miserable existence. He was sure her plump red lips were tainted with venom, and at one whiff of her perfume, he'd probably collapse and wake hours later in some sewer in lower Los Angeles, drugged and with his clothes missing. "Come onnnn," He practically whined, about to break his composure to throw a hissy fit. "Am I being punked?" When the crowd around him slowly dissipated as she came closer, he sighed and shook his head. He just couldn't win. With a roll of his eyes took another sip of his drink. "Oh, thou Ice Queen, what do I owe this greatest pleasure?" He said in his best Shakespearean tone, before dying off into sarcasm. Hazel eyes stared into green as he tried to see past her false merry demeanor, knowing deep within that mind of hers she was playing some calculating card he just hadn't discovered yet. Right when he was going to pull her aside though, Layla emerged from the restroom and Stevie tensed even more. Before Harvin could introduce herself, Stevie cut in. "Ahhh, Layla. Babe, this is…" He paused. "Harvin, and she was just leaving, weren't you?" He took Layla's hand in his instinctively, pulling her to his side, then wrapping that same arm around her waist. "I think she's got some elderly men to please somewhere for daddy. Duty calls right?" TAGGED: layla sinclair & @harvin WEARING: without the medals of coursee. NOTES: c:

[Deleted]

Idle hands clasp together in a last ditch effort to keep her fiery mouth closed at the familiar no-nonsense baritone of her father's voice on the receiving end of her phone. Always the businessman, never the father, her annoyance showed in the hollow lines of her face as she rolled her eyes. From the corner of her door, arms crossed, facial expression pressed, stands her older brother. A silent apology was offered with her eyes, ending the call with confirmation of hearing her father's latest tyrannical command, before handing up the phone. Slender, clean-nailed fingers wound into one another for a brief moment before she let an exasperated sound escape from her pursed lips. "Sorry, Daddy doesn't want to end his golf trip for this but he wants to regulate what i say and do." She murmurs to him, standing up and running her fingers through her brunette locks, completely stressed before the situation has even revealed itself as problematic. He nods as he repeats himself reminding her the time that they are to leave and what their networking plans are. Trent was always hard set on perfection even with the little things like charming people who have already been in favor to their father's endeavors. She shoos him away moments later, sauntering to her bedroom door and shutting the door behind her. Behind the closure of the room, she leans against the solid door, a soft breath of air coming from her. Sometimes she thinks that the power that comes from this legacy is not worth the pressure she's being put under, but there's nothing good in something gained without sacrifice. It's showtime. She dresses herself carefully, pulling on the beautiful white dress and clasping the appropriate closures with ease. As she clasps the ankles of her heels, she stands up, pressing her hands to her stomach to cling to the dress in her full-length mirror. Everyday in the spotlight was like a day in a pageant even though she had sworn from them years ago - she was always scrutinized, pushed towards goals that she never wanted. She had to be perfect in everything she did because her father was counting on her; to let him down would be a devastating act of disrespect. She just got lonely sometimes surrounded by all these aesthetically inclined people, these people influenced by the money of her name. A knock on the door informed her that she was taking too much time in her thoughts and, calling out that she would 'only be a moment', she grabbed her clutch and went to the door. Trent stood dressed to a t, hair slicked, and a smooth grin on his face. She loved her older brother, but she knew he had a goal to flirt with as many prospective bed partners as he could tonight as he always did. He looked her over once, then frowned. "Oh, please don't start with the 'my sister can't wear that' thing. We're already running late." She informed him, brushing past him on graceful legs, as she made her way down the spiral staircase of the top levels. 'Harvin, you're running late as usual.' Her assistant announced as she descended the last of the steps and she scowled. Matthew Carrigan was her assistant for as long as she could remember. Well, he started off as her appointed detail and became her assistant when she became partial owner of the corporation. He was constantly on her for her time and hardly ever let her miss an appointment, but she adored him for that in itself. "Blame my father. He talks for a lonnggggg time." She patted him on the shoulder as she passed him, grabbing the side of her dress as she stepped down from the front door and followed security in to her limo. When both trent and Matthew filed in, Matthew immediately started to debrief them on who would be in attendance and who they needed to float around with. Personalities, marital statuses, the work - they were practically these people's number one fans when the limo pulled to a slow stop. A very warm feeling came to her as she stepped out of the limo, smiling a false smile, but content in her element of manipulating these pompous assholes into investing. It was almost an hour in, a champagne chute in between her slender fingers, and talking to the wife of one of the withstanding investors, when something caught her eye. Stevie Evans in the flesh looking as gorgeous as she could remember albeit he should have been burning alive in her opinion. A man she still loved with the cruelness of her heart, but hated with that same disdain. He had given her a world of love and then tossed her aside when things got too real for him. She hated him because with him gone all she had was this false facade and this political lifestyle. She had wanted to spend her life with someone that made her happy and had no agenda, but sinners don't get wishes. "Excuse me, cheryl." She told the woman distractedly, turning on her heel and quietly making her way towards the man from her past. He caught her in his eyes and immediately he looked uncomfortable like a canary in the eyes of a hungry cat. And like that cat that had the canary, she grinned as she slowed upon coming within arms reach of him, tilting her head in a curious gesture. "They wouldn't waste the production costs on that with this." Harvin said with a wave of her free hand and a sigh. "You could act like an adult and simply say, Hello Harvin." A note of irritation laced her words in the southern drawl that lingered in the air word by word. She brought the chute to her lipstick dark lips, her grin still curving the sides of her mouth. "Several of our investors are in attendance to this party so I'm guessing it's to business that you owe the pleasure." The manner of which he made her very essence seem like a poisonous vine growing over his life made her temper hard to grip, her words slightly sharp, but her tone placid. As Stevie became even less comfortable, she followed his attention to a girl in sheer lace emerging from the bathroom and almost choked on her champagne. She brought her hand to her mouth, coughing lightly, as Stevie introduced the girl in a warmth that instantly made her skin burn with mild fury. She gave a toothy grin, more intimidating than welcoming, and cast a glance over her shoulder to where he brother was speaking. "No, why would I be leaving? Trent's here. He's handling the old men just fine." She said pointedly, cutting her eyes back at this meek looking girl that almost hid behind Stevie's figure. She watched the body language between them and when a waiter came, she replaced her chute, her fingers tapping against the side. "This is amusing, even for you, Stevie." Harvin told him frankly, taking a sip of her drink though her venom laced eyes stayed on his own. So not only did he treat her like she was some psychopathic stranger whenever she came around, but he had come to an event that the papers announced their part in with a date? A date who thought it was appropriate to wear sheer lace to a charity event like it was a runway show. Harvin chewed on her bottom lip, tapping her foot absently - sure signs of the storm brewing. He didn't know it, but Stevie was fairly lucky they were at an event that directly linked to her father and she couldn't kick him in the balls right then and there. Ignoring the girl, Havin gave a fake smile, taking her free hand and pretending to fit his tie (much to his dismay she was sure) before leaning in towards his ear. "If you want to play this game I will make sure you regret it and I mean deeply regret it." She leaned back, her smile falling from her face, as she turned her attention to the girl - Layla - and quirked brown. "Did Stevie ever tell you we used to date?" She asked with a tilt of her head, feigning innocence.  TAGGED: layla sinclair & @stevie WEARING: eat your heart out. NOTES: this is shit, sorry, oops.c:

[layla sinclair]

the room bustled with celebrities, businessman, billionaires, moguls, CEO's, anyone with a few million to put towards a good cause, although amongst all the commotion, layla couldn't quite remember what they were even raising money towards. the room was filled with familiar faces, she as stood on the arm of stevie chatting confidently to george clooney, or as layla had always known him 'uncle george', she saw her father across the room. his strong and handsome mediterranean features hadn't faded with age, with her hard cheekbones and broad shoulders he was still as attractive as ever, the salt and pepper through his dark hair just adding to his charm. he wore a immaculately tailored armani suit and he talked casually with clint eastwood like the old friends they were, comparing shooting schedules and complaints about studio demands. she had hoped that tonight her father could meet stevie, unofficially of course because while she knew where all her last nights in with the hotel heir were leading, she didn't want to jinx it. she was sure after the string of romantic disasters she'd had over the past few years her father would welcome a boy as charming and chivalrous as stevie evans. stacey complimented layla's dressed and she blushed a 'thank you' quick to point of her uncertainty about the dress but her stylists insistence at wearing it, the tall leggy blonde reassured layla on her choice away from the men's conversation and layla smiled appreciatively. although part of her knew that while perhaps someone like stacey keibler could pull this off, with her perfect bombshell figure, beautiful long legs and fair complexion, layla couldn't help but feel overdressed and over the top. she was uncomfortable in her own skin most of the time, putting her in a dress this scandalous she felt like she might wilt in the glare of the attention it brought.  she excused herself from the conversation and regretfully from stevie. his hand had lingered on her waist all night, his fingertips occasionally straying to link with hers as he lead her around the room from conversation to conversation. he caught flutes for her from passing trays without a word from her, and every little gesture made her heart swell and her stomach somersault. finally her nerves of the night got the best of her and she excused herself to freshen up. another coat of lipstick in the mirror and she took a few deep breaths. she smoothed the dress over her curves, resisting the urge to call her stylist in a panic and request she meet her in the bathroom with another dress. she wondered for the first time tonight what her father would think of it and blushed at herself in the mirror at the idea of it. she hadn't given a second thought to the fact that her father would be here tonight, her attention only on stevie, desperate to please him, to make him notice her. her father was just another puzzle piece to fit into her soon to be perfect romance, she hadn't given a thought that the dress that would land her stevie, would upset or annoy her father. thankfully she knew that ezra sinclair would have too much composure and decorum to mention anything in front of all these people, but his disappointment would be known in his typical tender gentle way that would upset layla more then cursing and shouting. she left the bathroom, pulling her shoulders back, her head high as she tried to show how confident and proud she was and tried not to be the meek little creature she usually was. she shoulders immediately slumped at the sight of the dark haired girl with her date. she was beautiful, silky dark hair and perfectly tanned skinned  that made her look exotic with her dark almond shaped eyes. her dress was expensive, and she held herself with a confidence and an arrogance that made layla shrink from across the room. there was a tension between them, but layla couldn't tell if it was angry or sexual, or perhaps even both. she had meant to wave her father down and call him over to her beau by she ducked her head to avoid him as she made her way over to her date and his conversation, hoping her father was too busy to witness as his daughter's date probably chatted up another beautiful party goer while she waited doe eyed for him to notice her again. she slunk over, the confidence she had tried to build up earlier, disappating with every step closer she got to the stunning woman with stevie. when she reached them, she didn't need to say a word. stevie took her hand and pulled her close, first she thought it was guilt, guilt of being caught and an attempt to cover up his flirting, but as he pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her something didn't quite feel right and she timidly nestled into his side, almost using him as a sheild against the judgemental and obviously annoying expression that the brunette regarded her with, despite her smile.  harvin. the name sounded familiar, very unique, but one she couldn't quite place. the two continued their awkward game around a clueless layla, stevie's sarcasm was matched by her cool flippant tones. layla's fingertips smoothed over her dress and over the arm of stevie's suit as she distracted herself from their conversation that she didn't seem to follow, there was a banter, but it was almost bitter, but there was still something bubbling between them she couldn't place and every moment she spent trapped between them made her fidget and duck her eyes from harvin's piercing smoky eyes. harvin leaned forward to fix his tie, although there was nothing wrong with it in the first place. she leant forward to whisper in his ear and despite layla clinging to him as she was tucked tightly into his side, she didn't overhear harvin's silky words but that didn't mean she wasn't humiliated at the girl being so intimate with her date while she was still on his arm but completely forgotten. a blush crept to her cheeks and she lowered her eyes to ignore the gesture, hoping that everyone else in the room wasn't staring at the trio like she felt they all were. and then all of a sudden, harvin was addressing her for the first time and layla met her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. the lingering feeling that had been gnawing at her stomach since she first laid eyes on the beautiful other woman were confirmed in those innocent polite tones. but layla knew she was being anything but innocent and polite. struggling to find her voice, she wanted to shy away from the situation, from the confrontation that was ruining her perfect night. she shook her head, refusing to look up at stevie in case she saw something she didn't want to see in his face.  "ah non, sorry" she replied meekly, her dulcet french tones thick as her nerves took over "he's never mentioned you at all before." she lied, but she selfishly didn't want to give the beautiful woman anymore to gloat about in front of her. layla was already wishing she could shrink away and disappear. away from the crowd, away from her ridiculous dress, and most of all away from harvin. "but it's lovely to meet you, harvin. i hope i didn't interrupt anything..." TAGGED: @stevie & @harvin WEARING: sexyyy NOTES:coding by susan. poor layla :c.

[Deleted]

Stevie couldn't remember the last time he felt this awkward, or really, this afraid. His anxiety level was through the roof, and he tried desperately to not look like someone with a severe case of OCD and keep touching his forehead or his handkerchief in his tux's breast pocket. Seeing Harvin again was like being brought back to his past. A past he didn't want to engulf him, no matter the good that was sprinkled here and there. Their break up had been hard to say the least. It hadn't been an easy decision for him, as he did once love the girl before him. He loved everything about her, from her beautiful hazel eyes, sharp wit and intelligence, to the way she said his name in her signature Southern accent he had pretty much accomplished to get rid of himself after years of practice, to feeling those perfect curves she held when they moved naked together in the shower or held each other close in their sleep. She was a forever beauty, and the day he sat her down and told her it wasn't going to work, not when she was turning into some crazed monster, dead seat on controlling his own life as much as her own, broke his heart. Stevie was a romantic at heart, despite the fact that he normally seemed so relaxed with the fact that if something didn't work, it didn't work. And to move on. He was always known to go with the flow, a carefree soul more interested in enjoying life and taking chances on something greater when they came around. But he was never about forcing things. If he felt rushed or forced, he confronted. And then he backed out if things didn't change. But all this didn't mean that after a year or two, he still didn't feel the pain, the guilt. And looking into Harvin's hazel eyes, he could see it too. But of course, in hers, there was more malice than anything now. She was ready to slit his throat. And in the most devious but equally classy way, of course. And poor Layla would be left with his body and not even know what to do. "But saying hello would indicate I was at least interested in seeing you. Or wanting to be polite. And i'm really just not," he retorted, while taking another sip of his own drink. His eyes moved as she moved, and he almost wished he had Scott Summer's energy beam mutation, and he could easily just beam her across the room and out of sight for the rest of the night. If only that didn't kill her in the process. And you know, if only that could actually work in the world they lived in. He ignored her response to his old man question, not even wanting to think about Trent either. More of her family here to bring him backwards, he was outnumbered already. He tried to swallow when she came near his ear, his eyes straight forward as she fixed his tie and whispered in venom laced words that she was going to make him regret everything he was doing now. Stevie could feel a shiver run down his spine, but he tried to shake it off as she moved backwards. But what was replaced instead was immediate fear washing over him when she brought up to Layla that they had dated. He closed his eyes for a second, head tilting upwards and he groaned, "And, here we go." He chanced a look at Layla soon after, and realized he didn't even need to look, as he could feel the uncomfortableness and nerves she felt just by the way she held on to him. This was not the way he wanted the night to go, especially not on her special night. This wasn't supposed to be about Harvin and him. It was supposed to be about charity and Layla and all her hard work. And soon enough he realized the only way to make this better, was to take another chance. And he just hoped to God Layla wouldn't hate him for it. Stevie downed what was left in his glass, before putting it back on one of the wandering waiter's trays, and adjusted his bow tie once more. He then forced a smile in Harvin's direction and shook his head. "I never told her about you because really, what's to tell? We dated for a couple years, I realized when it was almost too late that this was going to be the biggest mistake of my life if I took the next step, etc etc. But I don't hold any hard feelings anymore. I mean, the past is the past, and you aren't my future. She is," He then turned to face Layla and looked down at his friend, his beautiful date. He kept his act up well, thanking all those fun theater classes he took as a child, even if they were to his father's dismay. "And no, Layla, you didn't interrupt a thing." He kissed the side of his date's head, before looking back at Harvin and sighing slightly. "In fact, I think Harvin really interrupted me waiting to tell you just how beautiful you look and how happy i've been with you. Really babe, cheers to our future," He turned Layla to him and brushed some hair behind her ear, before pausing. He looked down at her with a mixture of care and nerves, the mix propelling him to whisper only for her ears, "I'm going to do something. But don't hate me for it, okay? Just..don't hate me.." And then he lifted her chin up and kissed her. He ran a hand up her back slightly, while letting his other cup her cheek. The kiss was slow and sweet, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't milk a little more, especially for Harvin's view. When he finally pulled back, he felt a happy tingling sensation run through out him but then it slowly dissipated when he just realized he had kissed a girl he considered his sister. But he tried not to let the latter show, instead turning back to Harvin, an arm snug around Layla's waist as he pulled her close again. "Sorry. Don't you have your own date to run off to now, or? Oh. Or are you here by yourself?" he inquired, while feigning innocence. But on the inside he danced with glee at his own sweet revenge. TAGGED: layla sinclair & @harvin WEARING: without the medals of coursee. NOTES: oh hey look, i finally responded! don't hate meee. :c