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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Jul 29, 2009 1:06:09 GMT -5
*Because we haven't done a thread together in ages*
Between her classes and Voltaire's classes and taking care of Conor, it seemed like Isabella had hardly spent any time alone with Voltaire. She remembered the days when they would sit in her office, just talking and kissing and lying in each other's arms. And if she was honest with herself, she missed those days. It had been so long since they had really been able to spend any quality time alone together. At night, they were both usually so tired that they just fell asleep.
So today she made a decision. She was going to spend the whole day with Voltaire, just the two of them. She got Rori to watch Conor and gathered a few supplies before she headed down to Voltaire's office. She was carrying a basket with some champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, along with some fried chicken (because Voltaire did love to eat). And underneath her robes, she was wearing something lacy and pretty that was sure to please him. Smiling to herself, she knocked firmly on his office door.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Jul 29, 2009 22:05:37 GMT -5
Voltaire was sitting at his desk, nearly mindlessly going over the few written homework assignments he gave out in class. This was so mind numbingly boring. He missed his wife, laughing at the train of thought. He wasn't any longer just pleased with lying next to her. He actually started to think of how he could whisk her away, sweep her off her feet the way he used to be able to do so effortlessly.
He paused his musing when he heard the firm knock on his office door. Definitely an adult, good he would of hated to deal with a student at the moment. He opened the door to see the light of his life, holding a basket. His face broke into a wide grin of pleasure at the sight of her. He missed their old tradition of cuddling in their offices.
He reached one arm to snake around her already slimmed waist to pull her into his office and into his embrace.
"My Precious Heart!" he exclaimed and he easily shut the door behind her and laid a kiss to her lips. He felt his heart swell with love; he guessed he'd never get tired of the emotion and the things it did to him.
"It looks like you've something in mind for us!" he said glancing at the basket then back to her face. She was so radiant in his eyes.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Jul 29, 2009 23:26:17 GMT -5
Isabella smiled against his lips, closing the office door with her foot. "It's been so long since we've had a romantic afternoon together, just the two of us. Rori's babysitting Conor, and I've got Bella grading papers in my office, so we should have the afternoon to ourselves."
She nodded to the basket. "I brought your favorite... fried chicken. And some chocolate covered strawberries and champagne, for later. I was hoping we could have a day, like the ones we used to have. You're not busy, are you?" She nodded her head toward the papers on his desk.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Jul 30, 2009 21:44:03 GMT -5
Voltaire felt a tiny bit more of love swell his heart and a bit of embarrassment as well. He loved the fact that she thought of him and remembered what he liked, but he didn't want to kiss and woo his wife with greasy lips or fingers. Instead he opted to kiss her again, trailing kisses from her lips to her chin and jaw.
"You are all the feast I need." he kissed her again and took the basket out of her hands and sent it floating toward his desk where it flopped lazily on the surface. Voltaire had never been happier at seeing a poorly executed charm. He guessed he could start to be silly and speak poetic nonsense to his love, she seemed to secretly enjoy his frothy lyrical crap sometimes.
"Champagne Kisses and strawberry lips, I have that and more!" he laughed and kissed her once more and then again for luck as he liked to think of it.
"Don't worry about that! It's only noted I asked the class to take down. Just to see if they even hear a word I say." He said motioning toward the desk and his piles of papers. The living stapler was having the time of its life stapling the loose pages together.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Aug 1, 2009 1:30:58 GMT -5
Isabella closed her eyes and leaned into her husband, feeling the old familiar feelings come flooding through her again. When they were alone like this, she could almost remember how it had felt that night by the lake, when he had kissed her for the first time. She had never expected to fall in love, but somehow, Voltaire's unorthodox antics had swept her off her feet. And it had changed her life so dramatically that she felt like a completely different person.
"Hmmm... why don't we make the room a little more... romantic?" she said with a playful smile. She waved her wand, causing the lights to dim. The small sofa in the corner was transfigured into a large bed, and surrounding it, instead of bookshelves, were a dozen different rose bushes, filling the room with a delicate perfume.
She turned to Voltiare and held out her hand. "Shall we?"
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Aug 5, 2009 3:16:46 GMT -5
Voltaire smiled at the roses that now were in his office. Ah, magic; had they been muggles something this romantic would of taken hours to prepare. It's the little things he supposed that made life great.
Voltaire took Isabella's hand and quickly swept her off her feet, literally. he cradled her to his chest and walked toward the bed.
Depositing her there on the pile of pillows and smooth sheets he deftly caught her foot as she fell back on the bedding. She had on an attractive pair of heels, he loved seeing her in her heels. He smiled as he pulled her foot free of the shoe and went to work taking the other off her.
"I'm surprised the roses aren't wilting." he paused to catch the moment of bafflement cross his wife's face "I'm sure they would be dying of envy if they were real, your beauty out shines them." he said leaning in to quickly kiss her on the tip of her nose.
"Oh where would I be without you to make my life special?" he asked as he ran his hand down the length of her shin, stopping at her knee, seeming to ask permission to go further with a quirk of his eyebrows.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Aug 9, 2009 21:42:14 GMT -5
Isabella had gasped with surprise when Voltaire swept her up into his arms, then smiled as he carried her to the bed. He had always been able to take her breath away with the simplest of actions, and she still marveled at this. The first night they had met she had been taken by surprise, and since then, her life had been a whirlwind of excitement. Even now, when they seemed to be in a rut, she was unable to resist him.
She lay her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes while Voltaire ran his hands along her shins. But when he stopped, she opened her eyes and met his gaze with a smile. Reaching down, she took her hand in his and began to slide it further up her leg.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Aug 12, 2009 16:21:26 GMT -5
Voltaire couldn't restrain the chuckle that erupted from his mouth. Isabella was always so daring, but at that thought, Voltaire couldn't remember if he had warded the door or just simply shut it. so he sat up and turned toward the offending door and cast a few anti-alohamora jinxes. His short term memory still bothered him, He felt a wisp of melancholy float through his heart, he would never be a champion dueler again, he would never be as quick as he used to be. He wondered if that would bother Isabella at all, but he turned back toward her and decided he could very well angst over the prospect of not being attractive to his wife another time. More than likely a time when she wasn't currently leading one of his hands up her robe.
"Is that lace I feel? You Vixen you!" He almost threw his wand to the floor, but he tucked it inside of his outer robe and then took it off. His hands quickly resumed their wandering in her robes. "You spoil me!" he grinned as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Aug 12, 2009 21:42:39 GMT -5
Isabella closed her eyes and buried her fingers in his hair as he kissed her. She had missed this so much, just the two of them getting lost in each other without a care in the world. She loved their son desperately, but it seemed like she had been so busy being his mother that she had forgotten what it was like to be with her husband. His short-term memory problems worried her, it was true, but he still remembered the important things. It wasn't like that horrible time when he had forgotten about her.
"Voltaire, I've missed you," she whispered, allowing her hands to travel down his shoulders and chest, then began working at the buttons to his inner jacket.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Aug 12, 2009 22:34:03 GMT -5
How strange a feeling it was to miss someone that fell asleep next you every night, strange but very true. "I missed you too." and he let kisses trail from her lips down her jaw to her neck. He started to work the buttons on her dress, leaving her skin exposed to more of his kisses, showing off the fancy lacy thing she wore underneath her dress in his office's dim light. He wished he had more lamps now. He wanted to see her clad in her pretty lacy shift.
First thing was first, it was time to get her out of the dress. So he pushed the fabric from her arms and pushed it to her waist. She was free enough for more kisses at least! so he began to kiss more of her body before getting rid the rest of her clothing.
"So my darling love, oh so darling love." he was quickly loosing his wit, he figured she wouldn't mind overly much.
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Post by Charles Mortensen on Aug 12, 2009 22:49:28 GMT -5
It was at this unfortunate moment that Charles abruptly materialized in the room. It had been a while since he had appeared, and during this time he had been floating in a void of nothingness. It had actually been rather peaceful, and he had begun to resign himself to that sort of lonely, but peaceful afterlife.
That was until whatever cruel force kept bouncing him in between worlds decided to bring him back to the earthly world just in time to see Voltaire about to be intimate with Isabella.
"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" He groaned, holding a ghostly hand over his eyes. "What cruel trick of the universe brings me here in time to see the likes of this?"
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Aug 12, 2009 23:53:15 GMT -5
Voltaire gasped and sat up straight, quicker than he gave himself credit for, he snatched his jacket and draped it over his wife. He spun to face a floating Charles, whose hands were still over his eyes, livid. When was this torture going to end?
"Don't witness this then! Charles, what are you doing here?" He turned to Isa, feeling his face flame to an uncomfortable shade of red, Ah this wasn't the kind of attention he had been hoping for.
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Post by Charles Mortensen on Aug 13, 2009 0:12:21 GMT -5
"Oh, what, like I chose to pop in here just now?" Charles grumbled. "Bloody hell... I was enjoying my nice peaceful nothingness, thank you very much, when something decided to make me appear here. Clearly, there is some sort of deity and it wants me to suffer for Merlin knows what... Or maybe it doesn't want you getting any action. Really, though, if I could leave, I would. If I had a stomach, I'd be getting sick to it just about now."
He was still averting his ghostly eyes, trying not to notice that Isabella's long, shapely legs were bare and exposed to his view.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Aug 15, 2009 21:31:11 GMT -5
"Stop peeking!" Voltaire snapped as he looked to Isa with a panicked expression. his heart was hammering in his chest in a painful squeeze of embarrassment. What could he say? Sorry? the mood was killed by a dead man that she couldn't see or hear?
"Isa, could you..." he gestured for her to shrug back into her robe and dress.
He turned toward Charles"You and your talk of god, I think he must have a sick sense of humor! to punish you he has to punish me!" He resented the thought of a cosmic force greater than magic that would keep him from wooing his wife in his office.
he huffed and turned
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Aug 20, 2009 0:40:43 GMT -5
Isabella was confused. A moment ago, everything had been perfect, and now Voltaire was pulling away from her, covering her up, telling her to get dressed. And although he seemed to be talking to someone, she had not yet put it together in her mind that Charles had made another appearance. Instead, she made another assumption, one which Voltaire would probably not be pleased about.
"Honey.... it's OK," she said. "It happens to everyone sometimes. Come here, and I'll see if I can help you out." She gave him one of her "come hither" looks, and slid her stop down her shoulder seductively.
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Post by Charles Mortensen on Aug 20, 2009 0:47:45 GMT -5
Charles widened his eyes and stared at Isabella for a moment, then turned back to Voltaire. "Bloody hell, Voltaire, if you don't go over there, I will. Or would, if I weren't dead. How in Merlin's name did you manage to get so lucky, anyway?"
He sighed, sending a blast of icy air into the room. "This is bloody ridiculous. I sit around, floating in nothingness, and then something makes me pop up in the middle of... this? Maybe you should exorcise me or something. It's not like I care what happens to me anymore. Anything's got to be better than this. What month is it, anyway? I feel like I've been gone for years."
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Sept 3, 2009 22:06:42 GMT -5
Voltaire felt his reason hit the floor with a dull and heavy 'thunk'. His mouth hung open and he was painfully aware he didn't have the problem that his wife was imagining.
"Ah, my dove, that isn't the problem" he shifted his seat so that the front of his robes concealed what she did to him. he almost had blocked out Charles in a moment, but he heard the ghost ask a question and he huffed in annoyance.
"It's March Charles. Any other questions before I do try and kick you out of my office?" He made sure he looked over his shoulder to make sure Charles wasn't trying to see his wife's pretty lacy things.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Sept 5, 2009 0:57:19 GMT -5
Isabella's eyes grew wide, and she began to try and cover herself even more. "Charles is here?" she said, incredulous. She began to look frantically around the room, trying to see if she could see the spirit. After all, it had been months since Charles had put in an appearance, and everyone had just assumed that he had finally gone on to his eternal resting place. Why now was he appearing?
Or was he really there at all? Isabella hated herself for doubting her husband, but when Voltaire was the only one who could see him, how could she be sure? Natalie had seen him, in Voltaire's class.... but that was months ago. What if, for some unknown reason, Voltaire was hallucinating this time?
"What.... does he want?" she asked cautiously.
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Post by Voltaire Rothschild on Sept 5, 2009 2:30:59 GMT -5
Voltaire groaned and fell forward on the bed, his head landing in Isabella's lap. "To torture me into non being!" he sighed and propped his head up.
"He said he has no idea, he was in a place of nothingness and then managed to find land again once I got comfortable..." he paused as he felt a cold brush of air raise goose pimples on his skin.
"How in Merlin's baggy Y-fronts did you do that Charles? I thought only muggle ghosts made the air cold!" Voltaire grumbled as he began to button his buttons and generally end his cuddling session with his wife. He felt so irritated at the situation.
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Post by Charles Mortensen on Sept 9, 2009 16:19:54 GMT -5
"Why the bloody hell are you asking me?" Charles snapped, equally irritated. "Apparently, I have no control in this situation at all. I can't decide where and when to appear, I can't decide where to be, and I sure as hell don't know how I made the air cold just by sighing. Just about the only thing I can manage to do is annoy the bejeezus out of you."
He let out another annoyed sigh. "Why couldn't I have haunted the Holyhead Harpies' locker room instead of you, anyway? At least then I could get a few jollies. Seeing you and Isabella getting intimate really only aggravates my gag reflex. Now, if it were just her...." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
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