A Respectful Request (Hathor & Marcus)

It was good that Marcus was smart enough not to push subjects neither of them wanted to speak about. It was obvious that he was a determined young man, with big prospects in his life. He was a Pureblood, a very wealthy one, and he was beyond handsome. Marcus was the man that even by staring at him, he could bring you to your knees, and make you stare at him in awe. And Hathor was neither blind nor stupid. She did recognize these things, but she was not going to speak them loudly. Not yet, at least.

But eventually, if they ended up getting into this marriage that neither was fond of, she would have to find a way to make this relationship work. And doing as he pleased would be one thing. But the problem was, Hathor did not wish to do as he pleased. She wanted to do whatever she wanted. Because she too was a Pureblood, and she also had big prospects, something that Marcus was willingly choosing not to pay attention to. Hathor was farm more dangerous than what he could comprehend.

"Our library is quite good, perhaps not overly boastful, but you may add to it to suit your needs."

That drew a small smile from the girl, who turned to look at him. When he wasn't being so cocky and mean, Hathor could even say he looked... very attractive. And she didn't mean just his looks. From the first time she had seen him, Marcus seemed to have that something that made her so attracted to him. Maybe it was the fact that he challenged her, pushed her over the edge, treated her way differently than most men. He was different. He didn't sweet talk her or do as she pleased. And she loved it as much as she hated it.

"And we have a music room, I'm sure all of your musical needs can be satisfied there."

"I am glad. I play the piano, you know. Not that you're interested in that."
A small chuckle escaped her, thinking how stupid she was being by trying to seem sweet and offer information about her. He didn't care, and she shouldn't be doing that.

"How many men?"

The question took Hathor off guard, and she sharply looked up, her eyes meeting his. But she didn't look panicked at all, Just confused. Why would he ask such a question. Hathor though, moved closer to him, sitting next to him, but didn't answer right away. The fact that he was asking something like that meant he wanted to know something specific. But telling him that she's been with around five men could end two ways. He would either think she was not talented enough for his taste, which was definitely not the case, or he would call her a whore. But he already had once, hadn't he? SO she had nothing to lose.

"A number doesn't prove much. Especially the skills, Marcus. But if you have to know, I've been with five men. I don't think I want to know with how many women you've been."

"However, I'll be honest with you. Every Pureblood woman plays the piano, so... is that interesting? Brutal honesty would tell you no. If you told me you played bass guitar, or drums, then... then I would be interested. Unless, of course, you stray from the original classical crap that is taught to us all, and you've strayed in to modern music?"


Hathor would be lying if she said that she didn't expect an answer like this one. The more time she spend with Marcus the less annoying he was becoming. Or well, he was still very annoying, but she was learning to control herself and pay no mind to him. Maybe she was learning to play along his game, and now that she could keep up with what he was trying to do, she wasn't all that much affected by his cockiness.

He wasn't that bad though. It was all a matter of perspective.

"I happen to play everything. I am really good at playing, Monsieur." A small smirk touched her features, for whether the man beside her would understand the meaning of her words was no concern of hers. Hathor was responsible for what she said, not what he understood.

"I personally play drums, as well as piano. Not quite so well as Quintin plays the piano, but well enough."

"I can definitely beat your brother to that. One of my best assets are my hands. Especially the fingers." Hathor gave him a look that suggested how much her fingers were used. Again, it was up to him to figure out in which way she meant. Maybe she was just very good at playing the piano. Or maybe, she was simply really good at playing with something else.

Though next came the statement that he could barely remember half of the women that he'd been with, something that made Hathor a tad bit uncomfortable. Well, for once, the fact that he had been many proved he had some sort of experience, and by the looks of it, since he was really cocky about it, he was good. Very good at what he did. A red color touched her cheeks at these thoughts, and the French witch mentally groaned. If she ended up dreaming about him that day, she was doomed.

"And, it was not me who said skill was determined by numbers. I'm merely weighing up how much gold might be needed to keep scandals from arising."

"I think it's you who needs to be worried about that. After all, I know perfectly the names of the men, unlike you, who, I doubt, even remember their faces." The woman then shook her head, not really fond of knowing what Marcus did to the women he met. Because she definitely wasn't going to be another one he would fuck and leave. Oh no, Hathor had chosen the men she had given herself to very carefully. And each one of them was a respectable man. Wealthy, charming and young. They couldn't offer much that a simple form of pleasure. Not exactly the pleasure she had expected, since Hathor had yet to find the man who would make her scream in want.

"Six won't be a bad total, though, I should imagine. And, you'll at least be finishing on someone worth having."

Another laugh escaped the witch's lips, as she turned to look at Marcus with a funny look. Hathor couldn't really believe that he meant those words. For one, there was no way she was going to have sex with him. No way. And secondly, he didn't want her as his wife, and she didn't want him either. So what did he really expect?

"Even if you hate me."


But before Hathor could answer to any of that, the splash of cold water against her back made her shriek in surprise as she quickly jumped up, her eyes glaring daggers at Marcus who had moved out of her reach to keep himself safe. That had pushed her over the edge again, but this time, Hathor was not going to scream or anything like that. So once she took a few seconds to inhale and exhale deeply, a small smile touched her lips.
"Well, Merci. I did feel a little... hot."

Hathor then walked up to him with a small smirk, before she reached up, pulled him down to her by the shirt, and crushed her lips to his, kissing him for a few seconds before pulling back. It was a way to say thank you, wasn't it?
But no, she wasn't done yet. Turning around, she pushed her already wet back into him, making sure to rub around enough to get him all wet too, and then she pulled back.

"Also," she added as she gathered up her dress so that her legs were free to move. She swiftly kicked him behind his knees, causing him to lose balance and end up on the cold ground. "I've taken a Martial Arts class."

And with that, Hathor turned her back to him and kept on walking around the grounds, not really caring whether Marcus would follow her. After all, he had a reputation to fix now.