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Smut in the School (Machiavelli x Searching4shadows)

Searching4shadows

Searching4shadows

Star
Joined
Oct 23, 2016
Location
Australia
"Ding ding dong"

The chimes bellowed through the scratchy PA system signalling the end of the break period. How they could call forty five minutes "lunch" had never seemed to add up for the eighteen year old. Gathering up her books and bag from the tired and worn outdoor furniture that dotted the free spaces within her enclosure, she heard a familiar voice call out from behind her.

"Hey Rhon-daa! See you in drama, girl!"

"Yes Sir, mister Captain of the guard!" she called back playfully.

The other girl replied with a big grin on her face as she walked past briskly. "Don't call me that! You know I hate that!" Rhonda knew full well the reason for Stacey's walking speed. It wasn't to get to class quickly, like some of the teachers believed. It was to try and get in one more smoke behind the sports shed.

Standing slightly and smoothing out her white and navy polo shirt and navy skirt that they deigned to call a uniform, it occurred to Rhonda that she pretty much got along with everyone. From the football team, to the science club, and even to the kids that experimented with goth, her petite frame and nonjudgmental attitude made her a non-threat. Which in high school meant that she was seen as a friend to all.

She turned to the red head sitting beside her. "We'd better get going Loz. Wouldn't want to miss 'Princess Sarah's' daily 'performance'," she said, sarcasm dripping with almost every word.

"You haven't heard? She's not here today. Some sort of stomach bug," Rhonda's friend Laura gleefully informed her as she rose from her seat.

Her eyes lit up as she allowed the comment to sink for a moment. The bitch wasn't going to be in class! Life was good again! "YESss!" Rhonda cried out. "Is there any better way to start the weekend," she rhetorically commented as the two made their way to class.
 
Nicholas Varric, or Nick, as most called him (a few girlfriends called him Nicholas, and he had long since noticed that ANY girl into him did the same thing), was not overly popular within the high school. Certainly, people knew him, and he got around, but he didn't have a cliche that he hung out with, but rather knew a number of people. Admittedly, he was an athlete, a swimmer, with the tall, lean physique and the mid-length black hair. His bright green eye caught the attention, and that, evidently, was just one of the reasons the drama teacher had selected him for a lead role in this play of theirs. Evidently, he was a bit of an actor as well.

He and his friend Rhonda, who he had known for a good deal of time had taken this class as somewhat of an easy A, but it quickly turned out that he wasn't just going to drift through. Conscripted in, he had begged Rhonda to be involved too, not wanting to be alone in this. Thankfully, she had agreed.

He arrived into the auditorium, where the drama classes were held just moments before the bell rang, dropping his bag to the floor and lounging back into a seat next to his female friend. "Oh excellent, I'm on time for my co-star's daily delivery of demeaning dialog." He quipped with a slight chuckle, scanning the room for said offending actress. When his search was futile and came up empty, he raised an eyebrow. "Missing, hm?" He smirked slightly, clearly pleased. "Excellent. I could use without commentary about how fantastic she is and that her acting is being brought down by my existence." He chuckled, unbuttoning the top button of his white dress shirt.

The teacher called the class to order and began to issue out assignments to any students not directly involved in the play, before calling the cast to the stage.
 
Rhonda could see why most of the girls in her year had a crush on her friend. Not only being tall and handsome, he was also humble and a genuine nice guy. As Nick scanned the room looking for the thorn in both their sides, Sarah Silverman, she was reminded of how they'd become friends. Funnily enough it was Sarah that had brought them together. Sarah, wanting to cause her usual brand of chaos, started an ugly rumour about the two of them during their freshman year. When the air had cleared, Nick and Rhonda became instant friends.

As the teacher spoke to the class, Rhonda whispered to Nick, "yeah, apparently she's sick or something. We finally get a stress free rehearsal."

"MISS Jones," the teacher scolded, catching Rhonda whisper. She quickly apologised, and he continued. "As I was saying, today we'll start with act three. So if we can have all our actors on stage..."

"Have fun your highness," she playfully teased Nick as the actors started to make their way up the front. She pulled out her phone and settled in for a long double period.

The play itself wasn't so bad. It was a twisted take on the Cinderella story, where instead of the Prince searching the land for his mysterious love, he thinks that someone has bumped her off and accuses poor Cinderella of murder. Rhonda's role in the play was the palace messenger who only appeared in the first act. So knowing she wouldn't be called on, she wanted to make the most of her time.

Barely past the first level of her game, Rhonda heard the teacher calling her name. "Rhonda! We need you to fill in for Sarah, now come on, up you come!"

Dread instantly flooded her senses. "Me? Seriously?! There's gotta be someone else!"

"There IS no one else," the teacher replied slightly exasperated.

"B-b-but I don't know the part!" She stammered as she climbed the stairs.

The teacher thrust a script into her hands before one of her classmates cuffed her in medieval looking plastic handcuffs. "Look, you just come in when we tell you to, kneel before the Prince and read off the script. Places! Everyone!"
 
"Oh thank whatever gods have blessed me this day." He muttered under his breath to his friend, a soft chuckle punctuating the end of his sentence. As said friend teased him, he shot her a mock frown, an expression very much resembling a haughty noble insulted by such a statement. Then he broke character, his face flashing a quick smile, ascending the steps to the stage, two at a time.

As he moved to the position at the foot of the throne, center stage, he heard the teacher call upon Rhonda to take the place of his bratty costar. With a laugh, he crooked a finger to her, smirking. "Have fun, your highness." He teased her back, his eyebrow quirking upward in a playful motion, his expression one of amusement, the classic 'got you' smirk. He was obviously found her new role wonderfully amusing.

As the teacher called places, he once more took up the pose at the throne, his stance changing from one of simple amusement to one of confident power as he leaned back, lounging in the faux gold chair, his posture relaxed and sure of himself.

Admittedly, this role was rather written for him. The prince was a strong, driven, dominant character, and he fit that type more than anyone realized. He was, as one might imagine from his physique and general pleasantness, most certainly not a virgin, and had been exploring sexuality for a while, trying to find what he liked. And just a year ago, with his last girlfriend, he had discovered just how much into dominance he was. How he loved to be in charge, control, take the helm and lead, even more so sexually. That soon led into a world of blindfolds, straps, handcuffs, and gags. He had since broken up with that girlfriend, but the memories and desires remained. Somehow, when Rhonda wore those handcuffs, he was reminded of such kinky debauchery, and he smirked slightly on his fake throne.

"Bring her!" He called, voice commanding and sure, and the scene commenced.
 
Rhonda looked over as she waited for her queue, and saw Nick smirk just before he called her over. It was only slight, but she saw it. She often noticed little things about him, things that other people couldn't see. She had never really thought about it too much, and just put it down to the fact that they were close friends. And as he called her over, she noticed something else. His voice had somehow deepened. It had become more commanding and authoritative. She also noticed that a small shiver ran down her spine.

The two teens appointed as guards grabbed her, one on each arm, and led her to the throne, before dropping her unceremoniously to kneel before the prince. "Ow!" she cried out, glaring at them. There was a sudden pause as all eyes turned to Rhonda. It was her line, and she'd already stuffed up. She looked down at her script, realising that she had a line while the guards had brought her over. She giggled, "oops", and read from the script drily in monotone, "no, no, there must be a mistake, please you need to listen to me." Out of the corner of her eye she saw the teacher slap his forehead and shake his head with disappointment.

She rolled her eyes slightly and looked down at the script again. This time as she read her line she tried a little harder. "Your highness, please there must be some mistake-"
 
Nicholas played along with her little blunder, resisting the urge to make joke and tease her. Her first attempt at reading the script was abysmal, though he had to forgive her - she had just been thrown into this. He pursed his lips, still entirely in character, shaking his head slightly. He gave her the second attempt, and her acting was much better, then the scene continued.

As per the blocking, he rolled to his feet lithely from the throne, pacing slowly down the steps from the dais and looking her fiercely in the eye. "You will kneel when addressing the Crown Prince." He said, his voice not angry, but laced with a command and confidence that he didn't usually express. "You may attempt to explain yourself, but know this: you have been charged with murder, and the murder of my beloved at that. Your words alone will not sway me, and you have little else to offer." It occurred to the teenage male at this point that if this were a very different kind of production, it would be at this point that things would start going a very different way than their script dictated. Biting back a smirk and the thrill at the idea, he almost laughed, but held the expression of mirth and a little desire back. Curious that he had never thought that with his other costar...

Granted, she was a total bitch, so there wasn't exactly sexual tension there.
 
As Nick stepped down from his throne, Rhonda felt her heart skip a beat. Looking up at him from her kneeling position, she felt the shiver that ran down her spine, now travelling further south. His commanding tone seemed to stir something deep within her. And she liked it.

The more she looked at him, the more breathless she became. What was happening? She thought she might have been having an allergic reaction. As he continued to speak, images started to flash through her mind's eye: Nick roughly taking her by her ponytail and kissing her passionately; Nick standing her up and lifting her cuffed hands above her head and pressing her against the dungeon wall; Nick-

No! She had to concentrate. She knew she had a line coming up and looked down at her script. Without even thinking she kept her head bowed, and completely entrusted herself to the moment. She knew that Sarah would normally highly dramatise the scene, clutching her chest and starting to cry aloud, but Rhonda felt to do the opposite.

"Your Highness," Rhonda spoke softly, a slight catch in her throat. "It is not my intent to cause you further pain. But please believe me when I say, the woman you grieve for..." she lifted her head and looked him square in the eye, with all the sincerity she could gather "...she is still alive."
 
Nick was not oblivious to her reaction, and he noticed how she seemed to lose her breath for a moment. He did not, however, even for an instant, consider that perhaps she was thinking the same things as him. No, he knew his friend. She was far more reserved when it came to desire and such. But what else might have caused her slight reaction. He pushed the thoughts away for a time, however, instead focusing on the part he had to play and the role he had to fill. Glancing down at her at his feet, he ignored the assorted delightful images of what else she could do on her knees, cuffed and submissive.

As she delivered her line, voice catching slightly, he cocked an eyebrow, mouth set into a hard line. His eyes locked with hers and, per the script, he reached out at her, placing two fingers under her chin pressed against her throat and guiding her to her feet, their bodies mere inches apart, his tall, lean, muscular form dwarfing hers slightly as he stood in the dominant position. "Explain yourself." He said, voice low and serious, eyes connecting with hers with an intensity like none other. He had to admit he greatly preferred his friend's rendition of the scene over Sarah's. It was a lot more intense, potent, and real.
 
The simple act of reaching down to her level, caught Rhonda off guard. She was sure he could feel her racing pulse under her chin as he guided her to her feet. As she stood, she was suddenly very aware of how close she stood to this strong, authoritative man, a teen in her eyes no more. A sense of power and dominance radiating from him that she had never picked up on before.

She looked down at the script for a moment, before staring into eyes once again "I cannot explain, my lord, not entirely, for I would not believe it myself had I been simply told. But your beloved is very much alive, though perhaps in a way you would not expect."

She gave him a slight smile and stepped back a few paces, and opened her cuffed hands as best she could before her, in a gesture that laid herself out before his gaze. "Let not your title and prestige blind you from seeing the truth."
 
Rhonda's method of playing this part was so very different from Sarah's, a fact that was both refreshing and intriguing. And indeed, he had noticed her racing pulse as he lifted her to her feet. How interesting. Stage fright? Or something more? Perhaps there was something more than just him feeling a few horny desires and dominant cravings. Perhaps she liked being on her knees for him. This possibility wandered through his brain and nearly interrupted his next line, as he considered a possibility that was not new, but rather had gathered new potential just then - perhaps there was something more than a friendship to be pursued with her.

But he delivered his next line after the slightest break in the flow. "For your sake, I hope your words are true. Take her to the dungeon, to await me and my decision." He ordered, the cue for the guards to pull her away from him and off stage, an action that ended the scene. The scene that followed also involved him, however, and so he had no time to even pause to consider what had just struck him and confront the feelings that had so suddenly reared their lusty heads.
 
Rhonda gently, with a tinge of sadness, bowed her head as her friend dismissed her from the stage. As her classmates led her offstage, she was almost grateful. She'd heard of method acting before, and thought that maybe her reaction to the scene was just her empathising with the character. Her heart was racing, her mind was a little foggy, and she felt....twitchy? Like all her senses had suddenly been ignited. She needed air. She made her way through the wings and quickly exited through the back door of the auditorium.

Quietly shutting the door behind her, she settled herself down on one of the wooden benches attached to the brick wall. The distinct smell of stale tobacco filtered the air, because behind the hall was where everyone smoked. Normally this would have turned Rhonda's nose up, but she was so desperate for a moment alone the smell didn't bother her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She took a deep breath and started feeling a bit better. She didn't even realise the handcuffs were still attached to her wrists.

She turned her head as she heard the back door open, and smiled slightly as she saw Laura. "Hey. You ok?" Laura asked.
"Um....yeah?" she said looking unsure. She looked down at the cuffs and slowly removed them, placing them on the bench beside her. "I don't know."
"I think I do," Laura said with a cheeky grin, sitting beside Rhonda. Rhonda gave her a puzzled look. "I think you and Nick had a MOMENT!" she said squealing slightly.
"WHAT! No! No it's not that at all," Rhonda tried to convince her. "I think I'm coming down with something."
"Uh-huh, then why are you smiling?" Laura teased.
"I am NOT," she said, shoving her friend playfully, her slight smile growing wide.
"Admit it. For the first time you started seeing him in a new light."

Laura had no idea how right she was. Rhonda couldn't erase the image in her mind's eye of kneeling before Nick, and how much it turned her on. And for some reason the handcuffs had added to the fantasy. She picked them up, running her fingertips over them.

"No, no that can't be it. Nick's a friend."
"Who just happens to be one of the hottest guys in school!" Laura practically drooled. "With the dreamiest green eyes..."

Rhonda rolled her eyes, trying to hide the heat that was slowly rising to her cheeks. Those eyes. The way he looked at her when he was standing in front of her...

"Rhonda!" Stacey called from the back door. "You're needed onstage again."
Rhonda shook her head. She couldn't believe she was needed again so quickly. Was the scene already over? She needed more time. To think.

As she headed back to the hall, handcuffs in tow, Laura whispered with that cheeky grin, "This isn't over!"
 
Nick had no break to consider the emotions running through his body and the thoughts running through his mind, as he was in nearly every single scene. Through the next bit, a scene where the prince consulted with an armada of advisers, spies, scouts, and other informants to attempt to gather his case against Cinderella, all the while being tormented by the possibility that she is not lying to him, he managed to stay mostly focused, though he knew the next scene would likely only add to the tension as she returned to the stage.

"You are dismissed!" he commanded, voice ringing out over the fifteen actors standing before him, each delivering a spout of words in his direction. They fell silent, and bowed, exiting the stage. For a moment he sat there on the throne, then stood, delivering a monologue. It was not long, a piece about determination and vengeance that then morphed into a consideration of possibilities and a musing over how familiar this accused woman seemed to him. It was too quickly over, and the teacher had no reason to stop him, as they had practiced the piece many times before. As it concluded, he stormed back up to the throne, snapping out a command to the guards at the edges of the stage "Bring the prisoner here!" He returned to that casual, lounging position on the seat of power, which was his character's signature pose, particularly during the blackouts between scenes. Indeed, the show even started with him there, sitting still for the full fifteen minutes in the dark of the stage, silhouetted by the lights. It was a dramatic and imposing pre-show look.

Nonetheless, Rhonda was soon escorted back on stage by her guard, who he dismissed with a wave of his hand, leaving her standing before him once more. He waited for her to follow the blocking, where she knelt before him once more, and then stood, gazing down at her. "You are familiar to me, in a manner I cannot place. What secrets are you keeping from me? What is it that drives you to keep silent when you could save yourself from the repercussions of your accused crime?" His questions did not increase in volume, but the tone in held that dominant, confident resonance, prompting a response, demanding one.
 
As Rhonda walked back in, she felt slightly better about, well, how she was feeling. She snapped her handcuffs back on and picking up her script walked towards the stage. But one look at Nick in his dominant role as Prince once more set her body trembling. She turned around in the other direction, ready to walk off, but was quickly caught by Stacey, playing Captain of the Guard, and brought on stage. "You can do this," she whispered to her before exiting.

Rhonda slowly kneeled before Nick again, and as he stood she felt her breath escape her body. As he calmly and confidently asked his questions, she looked down at her script, readying her response. She paused, as per the script, and in the same authentic way delivered her lines.

"My lord, it is clear that you seek the truth. I fear the truth may grieve you, and I wish not to harm you. But as my prince, I can not deny you." Rhonda took a bit of a breath, steadying her nerves. "For you see, I could not have murdered your beloved, because the night of the ball, I was visited by a lady claiming to be my godmother. She gave me the most exquisite dress of pale blue and dressed me as a noble lady. I-I was placed in a carriage and sent to the ball."

Rhonda couldn't help but notice that the teacher was literally on the edge of his seat. She remembered that they had never gotten this far in my the script before, and knowing that gave her a renewed sense of confidence, knowing she could truly make the performance her own. "When I arrived, I could not be announced, and was nearly turned away...." she looked up at him, smiling gently "but then a handsome prince came to my rescue. He kissed my hand, and made me feel like a princess."

She looked down at her script again, changing the tone. "Your highness, I could not bare to be the one to tell you. But your beloved, is nothing more than a maidservant." Rhonda paused to let the sentence sink in. "She kneels before you now, her finery turned back into rags."
 
Despite the dark twist that this play had, it still had a happy ending. Of course, this happy ending would likely just make the current sensations he had been experiencing just a bit more... tense. Rhonda shook slightly as she was led before him, a reaction he couldn't quite tell if was acting or rather merely a reaction. He was still fascinated and surprised by these continuing expressions of emotion, a strange thing that was rather unlike her. But he had to focus on his acting for the time.

She began her series of lines began and he reacted appropriately, with surprise and doubt at her words at first, then an expression of slow realization, followed by his lips setting into a slightly curved smile. "No matter the true rank or status of the girl I met that night, I fell in love with her. It is clear to me now that you are indeed her, and I could not see that through grief and confusion." He paused, looking down at her once more, his gaze softened, still in the dominant, commanding, royal role, but kinder now, softer somehow. A different form of dominance. "I certainly would rather have known than put my love to death. Perhaps she is nothing more than a maid, but she can be made to feel like a princess again." With those words, he grasped her by the cuffs gently, pulling her to her feet with them.

It was here that the script called for the stage kiss that he had been dreading, something that had been practiced in rehearsal a few times, with his usual partner trying to slip the stage part out of it, usually. It was done by placing one's hands on either side of the partner's cheeks, as if preparing for a passionate kiss, but placing the thumbs over their lips and kissing his own knuckles instead. He pulled her to her feet easily, hoping he didn't harm her by pulling on the cuffs, and then gently cupped her face, pulling her close. His thumbs brushed her lips, but did not stay there, and though it appeared to everyone else in the theatre to be a stage kiss, his lips pressed softly to hers as the lights went dark and the scene ended. The thrill of energy ran through him at the contact, and he bit back a soft growl of desire. He didn't usually get so... riled up by mere submissive staging, but there was something about her stance and her reaction had driven him just a little further.

He knew the lights would be coming up soon, and that the class would end just as soon, and so his lips broke the kiss from hers, his entire body releasing her from the romantic pose he had held her in for that final scene. The lights indeed came up, and the teacher applauded the conclusion of the scenes as Nick found the clasp of the cuffs and slowly removed them from Rhona's wrists, giving her a tiny smirk and a wink before moving away to place the cuffs back on the props table.
 
She quickly previewed the script, and noticed Nick had the last line. She also noticed the kiss, but didn't have time to think too much about it. He delivered his line perfectly, as always. She felt that familiar stirring as he gently helped her to her feet.

As he leaned over, cupping her cheek and drawing her close, she couldn't help but gasp slightly. His touch was so tender, and yet firm. Her heart leapt and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. It was only for a moment, but to Rhonda, time had become irrelevant. Her mind went foggy, and her whole body seemed to relax under his touch as a gentle wave of pleasure travelled the length of her body. As he pulled away, she was left stunned, and couldn't seem to move as he removed the cuffs and winked at her moving back towards the wings.

She'd been expecting a stage kiss. Or at the very least, for the teacher to interupt saying they'd do the kiss when Sarah was back. But no! He kissed her! In front of their teacher. In front of the class! As the bell rang for the end of class, Rhonda's friends came up, complimenting her on the scene. They hadn't seen the kiss, but were instantly commenting on how well her and Nick acted together. Nodding gently and thanking them for the compliments, she made her way off the stage and collected her backpack. Slightly embarrassed by the attention she was receiving, she headed out the door.

She knew she should've waited for him, but today she felt she needed the long walk home alone rather than taking the bus or catching a lift with him. Nick had kissed her, and for Rhonda it awakened something within her. What that was, she didn't know. Yet.
 
Nick turned to glance at Rhonda, but found that she was already gone. Pursing his lips, he sighed softly through his nose. Such was to be expected. After all, everything had moved very quickly, a rush of emotion, sensation, and instinct, and given his knowledge of her personality and particular nature, he should have expected that she might be startled by everything that had occurred. And so, instead of dwelling on it, he moved on. Grabbing his bag, he headed for the pool, deciding to get some work on his form done to clear his head.

He changed quickly in the locker room into one of those tight-fitting swimsuits that all competitive swimmers wear, and grabbed his towel, quickly showering off before exiting, casting bag and towel onto a nearby bench. With no pause in his stride, he dove with surprising grace into the pool, despite written warnings otherwise, the shallow dive quickly curling out, vertical motion turned horizontal as he began his routine. After fifty laps or so, he paused at the wall, tired, but more level-headed, the cool water striking out any immediate desires.

Hopping up on the ledge, he quickly toweled off before hitting the showers again, rinsing most of the chlorine from his athletic body. A quick lather of soap removed most of the smell, and replaced it with the slight muskiness of the scented body wash. Dressing once more, he left the building, heading out to his car. He tossed the gym bag in the back of the black sedan, a nice car for a high school student, though not amazing in any way, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Swinging himself into the driver's seat, he opened the messaging app and paused, considering. Then, making a decision, he tapped on Rhonda's name and typed out a quick message.

Hey, want to talk about today? I'm leaving the school and could pick you up.

With a deep breath he hit send. After all, he had been the one to push things forward first, and so it was only fair that he try to clear the air. He waited as the phone tried to reconnect to signal (the school was a horrible place for phones, either accidentally or intentionally) and both send his message and receive any that were waiting to be delivered.
 
After school, Rhonda had walked home quickly, blasting her music through her ear buds to try and distract her from the uneasiness she now felt. The afternoon had started out like any other, but ended with her questioning her judgement, her sense of self-awareness and her friendship with Nick.

Had she always had a thing for Nick and had somehow suppressed her feelings? Why today, of all days, did feelings start to emerge for him? Did he feel the same way or was that peck on the lips just him having fun with her? And WHY did the kneeling and the handcuffs and the authoritative character that Nick portrayed so accurately have an effect on her?

By the time she got home, an hour later, she didn't feel any better. If anything she probably felt more frustrated. As she stepped through the door, she realised nobody was home. After the afternoon she'd had, she was kinda looking forward to having a non-related chat with someone. After dumping her backpack in her room and stripping off she ducked into the shower, telling herself that she was going to "wash the stress away". It only partly worked.

Dressing in a pale purple flowy top and denim skirt, she turned on her computer. Nobody was online and she hadn't received a single email. Not even an ad or spam email! She checked her phone, no one had texted and no one had responded to any of her friend app games. Thinking that homework and study would be a last resort she trudged down the hall and turned on the tv, flicking aimlessly through the channels.

Her phone bleeped. As she picked up, seeing it was a text from Nick, she subconsciously held her breath. She read through his request to meet up, and at first thought of ignoring him, then of rejecting him, but then came to a compromise.

She texted back: Sure. But can we just go somewhere and have some fun, like bowling or arcading or something. No d&m, just fun?

She really did want to see him. Just him. All the other stuff she was dealing with could wait.
 
As he put on his seatbelt, his phone played the sharp whistle that was his text ringtone. Starting the car, he grabbed it, glancing over her message. He smirked slightly as she stipulated that there wouldn't be anything too deep, and he chuckled, tapping the text box.

Yeah, sure! Let's go bowling, though you'll probably beat me because I just did waaaay too many laps. :p he sent, and dropped his phone into his lap carelessly, pulling the car out of park and heading for Rhonda's place. It was early evening, and he didn't have anyplace to be. His father was single, and had been for most of Nick's life, as his mother had passed away when he was seven. His dad was a surprisingly good single father for a huge portion of Nicholas's childhood, but recently had landed an awesome job with a large corporation and had been required to take business trips at least every other week or weekend, leaving the high school senior with the house to himself a good deal of the time. This was rather trusting, but they had an understanding that as long as the place was kept clean and undamaged, Mr. Varric wouldn't ask questions. This had been what let Nick explore sexuality and D/s, given the privacy and money to do so undeterred.

Within ten minutes he arrived at Rhonda's home, parking his car briefly at the curb, wondering for a moment if she would come out or if he had to go in to get her. He had met her parents only briefly before, but decided it couldn't hurt. Turning off the car, he swung his legs out and straightened his white t-shirt, striding easily and confidently up to the door and knocking three times.
 
Rhonda quickly turned off the tv when she heard Nick knock. "Coming!" she called out as she slipped into her sandals. Checking her reflection in the hallway mirror, something she never did, she was somewhat satisfied with how she looked. She'd taken some extra time with her makeup as she waited for him to arrive and wanted to make sure she hadn't botched it. With her ponytail swishing slightly as she opened the heavy front door, she relaxed a little as she saw his athletic frame and friendly face. She smiled up at him, trying to be her usual friendly self, but her pale blue eyes hinted the turmoil that continued to churn inside her.

"Hey! Ready to go?" she asked, forgoing their usual friendly hug, turning to lock the door behind her. Not even waiting for his response she started off down the driveway, her bright purple purse tucked neatly under her arm. "We both know I'm going to win. I'm just simply better. Even on your best day you couldn't beat me," she teased gently.
 
Nick smiled as he saw her, noting that there was definitely something new. She was dressed pleasantly, but it wasn't anything abnormal for her, and her eyes were bright, though there was still a hint of confusion within them, something he recognized from earlier. He returned her smile and gestured to the car with a mock grandiose movement. "After you, madam." he said with a laugh. "You look different. I can't place it, but whatever it is, I like it." He said with a slight smile, the statement casual and as light as he could make it. Her little tease caught him off guard and he laughed heartily, swinging the driver's door to his car open and sitting down with a sigh as he started the engine.

"Look, you." He said, still chuckling. "I'm pretty sure swimming has permanently curved my arms. You're lucky I can even play without the little bumpers in the gutters." He said, pursing his lips as he smiled, putting the car into drive and moving away from the curb, headed toward the nearby bowling alley. "Really, though. Our bowling games tend to end up being 'how much can Rhonda beat Nick by' more than 'who will win'." He admitted with a smile, clearly okay with not being good at bowling. Besides, this wasn't about the activity, really. He honestly did want to talk about what had occurred that day, but he wouldn't push her, not yet. He had already pushed her enough for one day, with the kiss and the teasing. If she wanted to clear the air, she would bring it up. If not, he would wait. Probably.

He wasn't exactly good at being patient, despite being a friendly and pleasant person. But he intended on keeping his promise, and staying away from anything too serious in their conversations.
 
Rhonda blushed a little when Nick noticed there was something different about her. Inwardly, she loved that he was attentive enough with her to notice the little things and had taken the time to compliment her on it. Outwardly, his compliment had made her nervous again, and tried to cover it up with her teasing. Nick was good at so many things, that it was rare for Rhonda to find something where she had the upper hand. Bowling was one of those rarities, and she definitely enjoyed reminding him of that little fact. And she liked that he let her have it.

She climbed into the car comfortably, having spent a lot of time being driven around by Nick. At least once a week they would hang out together, and every other day before or after school when they both weren't busy, he would give her a lift. She had a lot of good memories in that car, and just tried to focus on that rather than on her nerves. They chatted somewhat comfortably as they drove to the alley. They grabbed their shoes and lane and Rhonda felt more and more relaxed as they played and chatted. She could sense that Nick was consciously steering the conversation away from anything uncomfortable, and for that she was very grateful. But as the game went on, she knew that they had to broach the subject.

Gathering her courage, Rhonda turned to Nick after he had bowled his turn. "So..." she started, "do you think Sarah will be kicking herself that she missed out on today?"
 
Nick was careful to keep the conversation easy and light, without any discussion of the day's events. She seemed to do the same, or at least appreciate that he was keeping his promise, and their discussion was friendly and relaxed as they began their bowling match. Then, partway through, she steered them back into the storm, as if a signal that she was ready to try and clear the air. However, her question and tone made it easy for him to continue the levity into this discussion as well, hopefully keeping things jovial, if not light.

"Oh definitely." He said with a chuckle. "Can you imagine the look on her face when she hears everyone talking about how well we act together? She'll be furious. Or crushed. Either way, given our teacher's reaction to the finale, she might be out of a part. You're a better actress than you might think." He said with a smile, taking his seat after barely managing a spare. He put one leg over the over, ankle on knee, leaning back in one of the plastic chairs around their lane, the same one they always bowled whenever they came in here. "Besides, she needs to be taken down a few notches. She's far too dramatic for the role, honestly." He said with a little laugh, shaking his head.
 
Rhonda blushed as Nick complimented her acting. She'd never really thought too much about acting as a hobby or even as something more. Having done a few musicals and plays in primary school, she knew she enjoyed it, but when she'd moved to a different high school, the pecking order of actors and arts people had already been established, so she'd never tried to take it further. But today had reignited that love.

"Oh I know right! I hope that stomach bug of hers sticks around a bit longer," she said laughing. Shrugging off the compliment, she quietly said, "Besides you're the one with the real talent! You blow everyone out of the water. It's like you really were the prince today. You owned that role and it was as if I saw someone different in front of me today."

She got up to have her turn. "And you were just so comfortable. It was as if it came naturally." Picking up her ball, she walked over to the lane. Just the thought of kneeling before him again when he was in character was enough to throw her off her game, sending the ball down the gutter. "Haha, um oops..." she said weakly, not daring enough to look at Nick directly, knowing he'd be able to see something was up.
 
He smirked slightly at her little blush - it was cute in a way, how she flushed at the slightest compliment. He nodded as she commented about how she hoped Sarah was out for a while longer, and a soft chuckle slipped through his lips once more. "I certainly won't mind." He added with a laugh, leaning back slightly. As she commented on how well he acted the role of the prince, he sighed softly, with the air of someone that knew something most others didn't, and he leaned forward once more, as if leaning in to say something he didn't want overheard, though he still spoke in a normal tone, the motion a more subconscious one. "Well... The dominant and powerful prince is kinda a role written for me, in a way." He said, catching her eye briefly, wondering if his friend had any idea what he meant by that. Somehow, he doubted it, with how innocent and inexperienced she seemed most times when it came to intimacy. That was never something he minded, however, and sometimes it had been refreshing to have someone like that around, though now it made explaining this a little more difficult.

He eyed her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as she missed the pins entirely on her first throw, and she avoided his eyes intentionally, clearly thrown off by something, and all he could blame was the current topic. "I've just had experience in similar roles." He commented, knowing that probably wouldn't clear much up for her, but she was clever and smart, and if she thought about it, he had no doubt that she might grasp what he was saying. However, there was the distinct possibility that she was far too flustered to think clearly, at which point he'd have to explain himself. There was a part of him that wanted to take the comments back so he wouldn't push further into this awkwardly posed discussion, but the other part wanted to explore exactly where this all could lead.
 
She crinkled her brow as she picked up the ball to have her second throw. "But I thought you'd never acted before," she said, more stating a fact than asking a question. She turned to the lane and released the ball, it knocking over only two pins.

She looked confused as she sat down beside him. There was something he was trying to tell her. Rather he was struggling to tell her. Something he wanted her to figure out. She could always tell that. The last time he'd been like this it was to tell her he'd accidentally dropped and smashed her ipad. That wasn't so hard to figure out, the case itself was pretty slick to touch, so it made sense. But this. This she couldn't put her finger on.

She turned to him and asked quietly, "You're not talking about the play, are you?"
 
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