Emilia is, of course, aware of the modern view on jealousy: that it's disrespectful and stems from insecurity. Duh. What else is new? The tricky part is retaining said view when jealousy suddenly becomes one's reality. It's all jolly good fun when one can manoeuver their characters to see it rather in a new light and make reparations. Meanwhile, Emilia is sinking her nails into her palms to keep them away from the woman's long and graceful 'swan's throat,' quoting the classics. Also, she's just had a realisation that it's a wildly racist metaphor, and it's gross.

And who wouldn't feel insecure in such a situation? Not only is the woman on his arm conventionally attractive, and their conversation is lively and affectionate; but even without such a point of reference, Emilia is punching above her weight, figuratively speaking - while trying to navigate the chaos of a BDSM 'dungeon fam' environment.

Emilia once again laments the lack of a comprehensive rulebook for a human relationship - and then she remembers that the two of them agreed on 'playing it by ear,' and 'doing what comes naturally,' and all that other hogwash - and now he's copping off with some slag!

Woah. Blimey! That was so... nasty!

As if it was all Kate, and no Emilia.

"Em!" Oates exclaims. Oh bollocks. He grins widely. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Well, obviously," Emilia grumbles. Oh, it's like she's Kate's ventriloquist dummy.

The beauty jerks her hand out of Oates' collar and steps away from him. There is something familiar about how she stands, her head upright, feet slightly apart, and hands behind her back with one palm in the other.

Oates takes a few strides towards Emilia, bending his neck, trying to catch her eyes.

"I'll let you get back to your conversation," Emilia says, industriously avoiding looking at Oates' companion. "I've got an appointment with Eva in a few minutes."

"Sure." A doubt momentarily passes over his expression. "I'm waiting for someone too. But afterwards, would you—"

"I've got to go," Emilia interrupts him and turns away.

There's an anteroom adjacent to Mistress Eva's office, Emilia can just wait there. And she does know that her behaviour towards the woman next to Oates is rude - but it's not like he's made an effort to introduce them to each other!

She starts walking, when she hears a soft, quiet 'Daniel.'

Do not look behind you! she orders herself. You will only make it worse for yourself.

And she's right, it is worse. She's just scored a proverbial own goal - and now she has to watch the woman pull Oates closer, by his sleeve, whispering something frantically.

Isn't this just perfect? Emilia thinks. Oddly enough, there are no tears.

She stomps away from them, the sound unpleasantly loud on the marble floor. She's not holding back. After all, she's no lithe fae in stilettos, unlike some people here; and her heavy low hips and fat legs aren't made for catwalk.

"Emilia!"

She presses her head lower into her shoulders, hunching and probably reinforcing the overall beaver-like impression she's giving. She speeds up, but Oates has already caught up with her.

"Preet said you were angry with me," he blurts out - and Emilia's eyes fly up.

His gaze is roaming her face.

"Are you angry with me?" he asks, his tone lost.

The words 'of course not' almost leave her mouth - and then she stops herself. Wasn't there something about communication and openness in their 'verbal contract?'

"I... am," she squeezes the words out. "Angry. But maybe not... with you?"

Are you asking him, Milly?

"Why?"

Would you just look at these widened, innocent eyes! He truly doesn't seem to get it. The mind boggles.

Emilia gulps and fidgets with the strap of her bag.

"Well, you and I— We're... dating, yeah?" It once again sounds as if she's enquiring. "And I don't know anything about the modern protocol, mind you. I'm sure there are some conventions. And the whole question of being exclusive, or whatsit. And anyway... But you and I—"

"Are you jealous?!"

His face is aghast, his jaw literally slacking - and Emilia is suddenly overcome with the echo of her recent rage.

"Wouldn't you be?" she hisses - and immediately knows the answer.

Oates gawks at her some more and then slowly shakes his head.

"Right, yeah, what am I even talking about?" Emilia mutters. "Anyway, it's none of my business." This is what one is supposed to say in these situations, isn't it? "And we haven't set any boundaries when it comes to—" She hesitates. "—touching other people, and—"

"Is that what it's about?" He, first, gapes at her in bewilderment for another second or two; and then he barks a relieved laugh. "It's alright, Em. Nothing to worry about. Preet is a sub, just like me."

And then he smiles at her - warmly, tenderly even - while Emilia is having a eureka moment.

The 'eureka' consists of a firm realisation that Emilia is way over her head - and that they are clearly speaking different languages.

What does this even mean? And what does that have to do with anything?!

Is it a power balance thing? Does it mean that he can fondle other subs; and she's allowed to knob other doms?! Given, she can hardly imagine anyone being willing to test the latter.

Oh wait. Did she just refer to those nonexistent volunteers for a hanky-panky with her as other doms?!

"Em?"

What are the odds! The reticent Daniel Oates is the one still trying to have a discussion, while Emilia opens and closes her mouth - and freezes. Nothing comes to mind.

"Em, I want to meet your expectations," he says, leaning even closer. There's an entreating note in his voice. "What do I need to do to improve?"

"Nothing! You have nothing to improve!"

His face drops, visibly upset now. To think of it, that takes her back to the day they met. He was just as expressive - for him, that is - as he is now. Emilia wonders if he is freer in the club, allowing his kink and his personality to show.

Emilia takes a sharp tense breath in. This is going nowhere, innit?

Also, wasn't the whole 'meet your expectations' statement of his way too scripted?

Instead of recalling what she's learnt in her research into the subtleties of BDSM partnership, Emilia thinks that Oates looks like a Labrador that's wagging its tail, ears drooping, utterly confused about what it was that it did wrong and desperate to escape punishment. The bad kind, not the kinky one.

Time to woman up and pick up the leash.

"Daniel," she says firmly - and he straightens up, his hands lying behind his back, in exactly the same pose as his companion had by the bar.

Oh.

That - is the 'wait position:' a submissive is waiting for an order; only allowed to speak when spoken to, and to answer succinctly and directly; alert and attentive so as to receive a command.

The sides of his jacket are slightly open; and his chest rises sharply, under the crisp white button-up.

Here you go. What are you going to do, Emilia, now that a metaphorical lead is in your fist?

"I'm going to my appointment right now," she says, trying and hoping to sound assertive. "I will discuss this aspect of our relationship with Mistress Eva. I need the right terminology to clarify and define it to you later. I'm not sure how to explain to you what made me upset. And you can go to your meeting." She sighs, intensely uncomfortable with what she's going to say next - but unable to hold back. "But no hooking up with others until I know what I think about it."

"It's not what I'm here for," he answers readily. "I'm meeting a mate. I've known him for years, but we aren't part of the same scene group. Just catching up."

"Alright," she answers flatly.

"Em, I don't—" He stretches to her, but doesn't touch. His voice is gruff, embarrassed. He looks under his feet. "When it's not you—"

Oh. Wait, what?

"I don't want to play with anyone but you," he adds, even quieter now.

Oh.

Emilia is gobsmacked! She's just realised that what they're having here is the classic, third act 'confession scene' - BDSM style!

He opens his palms, in a charmingly shy, hopeful manner; and Emilia lowers her hands into his.

"Em, I'd like us to be in a closed dynamic. If you'll have me." He intently watches her face, all according to the requirements of the genre - baited breath and all. "I'd like to be collared to you."

Hell's bells! This is a dom/sub equivalent of 'how ardently I admire and love you' and 'my very soul demands you!'

Apparently, he wants her 'to the depth and breadth and height his soul can reach!'

Or not his soul but his submissive side, that is. Or just his penis.

But Emilia will take it! My word, wouldn't she just!

That still leaves the question of any other potential 'touching' that he might be doing, and whether it counts if the other person is on the same level in the BDSM food chain - ha, chain! - but Emilia has just received a sincere offer of an exclusive connection! Small cheer and great welcome, as per the Bard!

And he said 'If you'll have me' in precisely the way she had always envisioned her male characters would plead for reciprocated affection in a deep emotional baritone.

In one of her fellow writers' books, she once ran into such monstrosity as 'gravel soaked in velvet' and couldn't stop laughing. But well I never! That was definitely 'ruinously gentle' and 'like a prayer dragged through smoke.'

She should definitely answer to him, right? What is the BDSM equivalent of Mr. Knightley's confession? "If I wanted you less, I might be able to ungag you more often?'

Reader, I collared him.

Emilia gives his hands a small squeeze and opens her mouth - when a cheery call comes from the entrance.

"Daniel!"

Emilia shifts to one side to see past Oates' broad frame - and a croak escapes her tightly constricted throat.

Notably, Oates himself doesn't acknowledge the other man approaching them. The restaurateur's gaze is fixed on Emilia, he's still waiting for his response. He's probably hoping for something of the ilk of 'You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope to tie you to a bed and drip wax on your glorious chest."

Meanwhile, Emilia can't breathe. Apparently, this is a typical reaction among warm-blooded humans of diverse sexualities to being in the proximity of Roy Amaratunga, a rising star of modern television - and the sexiest man Emilia has ever seen in her life.