*looks up from the book he’s reading and smiles* Hey, Summer. What’s going on?
“If I did something you didn’t like, you would tell me, right?”
Monthly Archives: September 2013
It just makes you feel guilty for even interacting with people who are awesome, because you can’t shake the conviction that you aren’t liked, aren’t wanted, but nobody has the guts or the frank honesty to just tell you, claiming they don’t want to stir up drama.
Even worse, you’re too upset, at yourself if no one else, to go ask — and tagging that person is just going to get you yelled at and hate.
One of those moments when you see someone complaining — and you’re convinced it’s about you, even when no names are mentioned.
Send me an ask with HELLO in it and I’ll fill in those answers down there for you
1. First impression:
2. Truth is:
3. How old do you look:
4. Have you ever made me laugh:
5. Have you ever made me mad:
6. Best feature:
7. Have I ever had a crush on you:
8. You’re my:
9. Name in my phone:
10. Should you post this too?
Open
Summer was lost. Like, really, really lost. Her phone was dead, her car was low on gas, and it was, frankly, too damn late to be trying to figure out where the hell she was. Her stomach growled again for the fifth time in five minutes, and she gave up trying to find a fast food place too, picking the nearest parking lot that looked like food and pulling in.
It turned out to be a bar, not a restaurant, but the atmosphere and clientele intrigued her, and there was something other than usual about the way the folk there felt to her. So she slid through the crowd, avoiding eyes, and snagged a seat at the bar next to a tall, lanky, blond fellow, putting her forehead against the cool wood.
“God, what a fucking awful day,” she said to nobody in particular, and tried to catch the bartender’s eye.
Dyson gave a puff he classified as laughter and looked over at the woman beside him. “You too, huh?” Raising a hand at Trick he gave a nod to mean he’d pay for her drink. Giving another glance around the tavern, he saw hungry lustful looks being aimed at the newcomer and let his eyes flash golden, guessing from the looks of her that this woman wouldn’t want to be accosted. The other fae instantly turned away at seeing his wolf flare.
Focusing back on his new drinking partner, he gave a lazy half smile and raised his glass of whiskey. “To a better night.” Throwing back the drink, he pushed the empty glass forward before leaning against the bar. “Dyson.”
Being responded to wasn’t entirely unexpected; a remark like that, in a place like this, practically begged a response. The voice that responded, though — it was a nice voice, warm and commiserating without being sympathetic, and the face was just as good, friendly and encouraging and with no hint of intrusiveness. Summer offered her own wry, lopsided smile in return.
“I’m Summer.” To the little bartender (it shouldn’t have been so much of a struggle to keep from showing surprise at the man’s size, but it was, and that was embarrassing all by itself) she said, “Amaretto, please. And can I get a glass of cider? That’d be lovely.”
The amaretto appeared in front of her remarkably quickly, and she lifted her toast to Dyson in return. “To a better night, indeed. It can’t get much worse.” She blew out a sigh and drank off half the glass. “I don’t suppose you’re a native who can tell me where a safe place to stay in this town is?”
At her drink choice and courtesy, the wolf shifter gave another half smile and a nod of thanks at the old bartender. Giving a glance back at the rest of the bar for reference, he shook his head. “This is the safest place in town. Anywhere else, I’d sleep with an eye open and a weapon under your pillow.” He wasn’t exaggerating, any hotel – or worse, motel – in town was in the words of his favorite human: skeezy. He’d worked too many homicide cases out of the inns in town.
Dyson couldn’t let this newcomer stay anywhere like that. With only one other place in mind, he tossed back his second glass of whiskey before turning to face her fully. “I’ve got room at my place. That’s the safest place for you to stay.” His old friend gave him a sideways look from behind the bar, but Dyson ignored it. He knew his words were true, and he definitely didn’t want to have to find her killer later.
The straight-up sincerity of his offer took her off-guard. Summer set her glass down to stare at Dyson. “You really mean that,” she said at last. “I’m expecting you to pull a suit of armour from behind a door any minute now.” Of course he couldn’t know she was more than able to take care of herself, but if she didn’t have to sleep with one eye open and empathic senses on alert, she wouldn’t.
Summer and Tony
“Just a burger, I think.” Idly she flipped through the pages listing the specials. “Yeah, a plain burger with fries.”
“You’re so boring,” he joked, glancing to his own menu with a grin. “But I’ll have the same.” He raised a hand slightly to wave the prying waitress over before setting down his menu.
She teased back, “If I’m so boring, why are you still here? I didn’t think you were interested in boring.” Lifting the menu, she tapped him on the head with it. “Absurd Tony.”
When the waitress came over, giving the two of them a smug smirk, Summer rolled her eyes and rattled off her order, stressing, “Don’t put anything on the burger, okay? Pickles on the side.” It was so obvious what the waitress was thinking, she didn’t even need to be an empath to tell. Screw the woman and her expectations anyway. Summer wouldn’t just fall into Tony’s bed, and she wouldn’t be escorted out of it the next morning, either.
“I was born south of here, far south where the cliffs rise white out of the sea. I have a sister, a twin by birth but not by looks. She’s married to a lord who shares our country. My father sent me here to gain some polish and perhaps find a husband myself, though I think we’ve all given up hope for that. Why did you not wish to become a knight?”
Mordred gives her a smile. “It sounds like you’ve had a very interesting life,” he tells her, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I never really thought about it,” he says honestly. “I was a person who-” he trails off, “traded in fine goods,” he says after awhile, but by fine goods he meant people. Before he had become a knight he’d been working with bandits, gathering slaves and travelling from kingdom to kingdom. “It just happened.”
“That sounds a bit … are you sure you’re telling me the truth?” she teased. “According to my brother, well, step-brother, becoming a knight is hard work, you don’t just fall into it. He says I’m not allowed to try because of that.” Summer put her hand on Mordred’s knee, leaning into him a bit.
Hey, Lover
(Wouldn’t happen like a sexual thing, Ross is strictly dickly, but I do have something.)
Isiah had noticed the woman hitting on a bunch of people the night before at the bar, drunk and not at all safe to drive and he doubted she would want to wake up next to some of the people she was hitting on, so when she made her way to him he pretended to accept it and took her back to his hotel room but got her to sleep, covering her with the blanket when she finally did and getting himself as comfortable as he could on the couch, reluctantly taking a pain killer to do so so his leg wouldn’t wake him up, but he was still up before she was.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” he asked, keeping his voice low when she awoke.”
“I’m not entirely human, Isiah,” Summer said, equally softly. She didn’t look at him. “I have a — gift, a power, that I can read people’s emotions, their hearts, and sometimes, very rarely, I can see the events that evoked those emotions.”
Isiah was more surprised by the fact that he just nodded and accepted it, knowing that it was possible and he believed her. He’d finally gotten himself out of his seat and was waiting for her so they could head inside.
“Alright then. Are you sure you want to, though?”
“What I want doesn’t matter.” The reply was easy and familiar and thoughtless. She shoved the car door shut with a foot. “You have to tell me everything you remember about that time. You have to be willing to feel it. I don’t promise this will work.” She held the door to the diner open for him, slipping inside behind him.
“There’s no way to know what I might find.”