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never had matthias pictured himself as the type of guy who would take his [i]wife[/i] of all people to a sleazy nightclub, but this was all at her behest; lord knows he could only turn her down so often. things between them were already tense - between the fake marriage, pressure from their respective families, and having the government up their asses, scarcely did they have time to themselves, time to breathe. even when their hours went unoccupied, the two spent most of it together simply to reinforce their image as an honest-to-god in love couple. more often than not, matthias felt that they were suffocating each other slowly but surely. but this - this [i]noose[/i] paola had wound 'round their necks by forcing him into marriage? he'd see to it that she didn't try to wrestle her way out of it, not with his [i]and[/i] her future on the line.<p>

matt encircles her waist with his hands; long, slender digits boring into her flesh in spite of her outerwear. [b]"let's take a break from dancing for a bit, i just want to rest against you."[/b] that being said, matthias takes advantage of their height disparity and eases his chin against the top of his wife's head, eyes fluttering shut. he wants to keep paola close, safe from any rival men or women who might overlook the rings on each of their fingers, might overlook the lack of space between their bodies, but his possessiveness over mrs. chamberlain is more than one-dimensional.<p>

as someone who can see sounds and hear colors, a venue like this perhaps is not all that ideal. sometimes the music is bearable, the sights are something matthias can handle, but on nights like these - where the music bleeds into the walls, the voices thrum their way up his thighs and the pitter patter of dancing feet snake up his spine - matt needs something to focus on and it just so happens that the sound of paola breathing against him, body idly rested on his caters to his attention moreso than anything else. even when she's at rest and lying still against him, she retains that red, fiery aura about her - he'd say aloud that it reminds him of her hair, but then she'd be inclined to correct him about her hair color and ask him what the hell he was going on about in the first place. instead, matt opts to keep the sight of paola engulfed in muted red flames to himself, knowing full well that she would not understand. he momentarily tears his chin from above her scalp to check the golden watch adorning his wrist, hoping to make a prompt departure with [s]fake[/s] wife in tow. [b]"it's getting kind of late, honestly. do you want to just get out of here?"[/b]<p>

don't be fooled - paola and all the sights she had to offer were more than a satisfactory reprieve for matthias, but as long as the music rings out like it does tonight and he feels this off-balance - his senses will more or less continue to come <p>

[b]she's so far and he's so cold. slipping, slipping, slipping, wishing there was a way to make things right - take things back - to have her by his side again. to somehow take her into his veins, feel her love and her touch somehow make sense of this mess.[/b]<p>

he's not sure what hurts more at this point: his body's need for mina, or its desire for more drug?<p>both are realistically within his grasp.<p>he holds out for mrs. catalano even as he makes a fool of himself against the wall with his knees hugged to his chest.

he understands (or tries to, really) where mina is coming from - he should have been with her at the hospital. however, she'd adamantly refused him and had informed blaine of the situation first - he will never think that was appropriate, he will never appreciate having another man placed before him by his wife. as broken as he is right now, vincent searches the building floor for answers, something to put mina on ease, but he draws blanks. he can't fix her. hell, he can't fix himself. <p>

he glances up at her - [i]scared?[/i] vincent knows what that's like. when they first met, he'd sworn there was nothing he feared - but then she took a hold of his heart and decided to shake his world up. at one point, he thought it cheesy that losing her soon became his primary and, to this day, only notable fear. dealing for franklin, skirting around death after the accident with jaclyn, none of that phases him. yet, when mina makes a mention of being scared, he mouths [b]"me too,"[/b] in response, still resonating with the possibility of her leaving him. <p>

[b]she strikes his chest, and it's bewildering, really, how it incites just the right emotion within vincent - he's still a crumbling, sad mess, but the blunts of her palms against his chest, against his arm remind him that no, he's not the only one hurting. how could he be? how could he be the only one hurting when mina so clearly wore matching tears upon her cheeks?[/b]<p>

he wants to tell her that he's only [i]this[/i] far because of her - because she's pushed him away for so long, but no. he's played his part in forming this bridge between them. instead, vince's arms tear away from his chest and encircle her by the shoulders, pulling the petite woman against him. they'd never before been the vulnerable type, maybe that was catching up to them now. vincent chooses the worst time to speak up about his feelings on the pregnancy scare, but perhaps there would never be a good time at all. he'll take his chances.<p>

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