Work Text:
"And...cut!"
Sandrone lets out a heavy sigh, carefully climbing down from the robot prop she landed on for her entrance. The director has a sharp eye for detail and insists on getting everything right down to the smallest bits, and while she appreciates the meticulous approach, it does mean that it takes a lot out of her. Especially since her entrance scene alone took 25 takes. Twenty. Five. She better get a goddamn award for acting out an entrance to a battle this well just before she dies the next scene.
She gratefully accepts a water bottle and a handkerchief as she's pulled back to her trailer for touch-ups on her makeup. While someone fixes up her hair and any loose pieces on her outfit, she busies herself with rereading the script for the next scene. Her last few scenes, in fact. Apparently, having an impactful entrance makes it hit harder when she leaves, and she grumbles to herself. That logic better hold up well.
A knock on the door pulls her out of her thoughts.
She nods to her assistants to have them exit through the back, then calls out, "Come in."
The door swings open, and Columbina steps right in. She meanders around through the trailer, as if she owns the place--and with how many times she's been in Sandrone's trailer, she might as well have.
And Sandrone, used to her presence at this point, pays no heed to her while she smooths her hair over in front of a mirror. Her attention is only swayed when she sees Columbina approaching her from behind until those arms wrap around her abdomen. Her girlfriend rests her head on Sandrone's shoulder, looking back. "You look beautiful, my dear."
She sighs. In times like these, Columbina has the tendency to demand her full attention. Instead of shrugging her off, she turns around so that she's facing her girlfriend, resting against her makeup desk. Eyes appreciatively roving over her girlfriend's figure, Sandrone raises an eyebrow. "Speak for yourself."
And really, Columbina is quite beautiful. She's wearing an elaborate lace backpiece that supposedly unfolds into wings, and a light coat draped off-shoulder that flows as she moves. But really, that's only half of it--only the props of the actual masterpiece. What really catches Sandrone's eye is the way the coat only reaches midway through her thighs, leaving miles of bare skin for her eyes to see, for her imagination to run wild. Stars are caught on Columbina's eyelashes, glittering under the light every time she blinks those lilac eyes up at Sandrone. Innocent and scheming. Like she knows what and where Sandrone is looking.
A curious finger traces the bust line of Sandrone's corset.
"It's a shame that they're killing off your character this early on," she murmurs. "It's not everyday that I see you dressed up like this."
She scoffs. "Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?" Her wardrobe, when she's not out for work matters or on dates, is basically cycling through the same shirts, skirts, or sweats. Comfort over style, she always says.
"An observation, that's all," she says. "You have such a nice body, even if you don't like flaunting it to everyone."
"Hmph. What's the point of showing off to strangers when I'm all yours anyways..." she mutters, mostly to herself.
Still, she catches a glimpse of the mischievous smile growing on Columbina's face, and she turns away, heat creeping up to her cheeks.
"I think you'll enjoy the scene this time though," Columbina says, voice suspiciously laced with honey. "I read a little bit on the script and something about being held down? We both know how much you love restraint."
She scoffs. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her gaze darts to the side and settles on a silk tie. The same silk tie that she improvised to...quiet Columbina down. Her body shudders as her mind conjures up the memory--of Columbina trying to keep quiet, biting down on that tie, taking Sandrone so well as she--
"You don't?" Columbina's voice grounds her back down to reality, and Sandrone stiffens as Columbina's hand settles around her waist. "Would you like me to jog your memory?"
She closes her eyes, trying to fend off the furious blush on her cheeks and the memory of their various escapades, but the possessive grip does little to help fend them off. Heat settles deep below her belly, and-- She puts a hand on Columbina's face and pushes her off. "You need to behave yourself," she hisses. "You never know when someone could just--"
She yelps as something hot and wet smears against her palm, and she yanks it back.
Columbina stares back at her, satisfied. "Isn't that half of the fun, though?"
"It is not," she says. "And I told you, stop licking my hand!"
"Why not?" she asks, tilting her head innocently. "I like how you taste--"
She does not want Columbina to finish that sentence. "Get out," she says, pushing her out of the door.
Columbina puts up more of a fuss topped with her world-class pout, but still, Sandrone finally closes the door behind her and sighs. Finally, some peace and quiet. She doesn't know what's gotten into her colleague this time, but she really needs to mind her manners. Especially in a work place like this.
And...well. Sandrone casts one last glance at the closed door. If she keeps misbehaving, she thinks, bringing up her hand and tasting Columbina on her palm. it's about time for me to 'train' her again.