She splutters a laugh; the entire idea embodied in his words is hilarious. “Sure, okay.” She steps a little closer to him, looks up to see that his eyes are intensely blue. “I don’t think anyone’s on the balcony right now … “
This is the point where he’ll laugh at her, mock her for even pretending to take him seriously — basically backpedal furiously. She’s prepared to be amused as hell at whatever excuse he comes up with.
The corners of his lips twitch upwards when her laugh rang through the air, though they dropped as she moved closer, his whole body growing stiff. His personal bubble just about trumped the size of his ego. “And if they were…?” He managed to muster, turning towards her in the means of gauging her reaction.
“Ladies first,” he said, after awkward silence settled over them for a few beats, gesturing towards said balcony.
Ah. It’s going to be one of those types — the kind that say ‘no’ with their bodies, but not with their words, and it’s left to her to decide which answer is correct. (It’s always what the body says. Bodies are subconscious.) Summer shifted back a little, just enough to concede the silent argument.
“If there were, I guess you would just have to wait for that inspection,” she says back, over her shoulder, making sure to give him his arm’s length of space as she slips outside.
There’s no one out there, of course — nobody here smokes, they all vape because that’s more trendy and can be done inside out of rain or cold or heat. She’s seen them, comparing their e-cigs and insert-flavour-here in dark corners lit by the LEDs in their tools. So she drapes herself backwards over the railing, hair tumbling over the edge in a cascade weirdly coloured by the neon and streetlights, and waits to see how the game will play out.
“They’re never that interesting,” she shot back, and if there’s an edge of resentment or resignation to her voice nobody has to know but her.
Though it’s true; these are parties for people who drink to get drunk, fuck to keep score, and gossip like cruel vampires. She just goes to be reminded why she doesn’t go. Maybe here, with the mask on, she’ll do something shocking to even these jaded socialites.
She tossed her head at his riposte. “Now I’m certain you’re hiding some deformity under all that black. You’d better get one of the girls here to check, just in case.” She keeps staring anyway — it’s a cutting comment, not meant to carry truth.
And how else is she going to get to look at beautiful bodies anyway?
The lad’s gaze shifts towards her general direction for a moment or so as he mulls over her rather terse reply. “You must frequent these types of parties often, then.”
Ace knows little about the gatherings themselves, but more than enough about the people that attend them. Needless to say, he isn’t all that impressed.
“I think you’d make a satisfactory tribute. Unless, of course, you’re afraid said deformity will jump out at you.” This time, he turns to her, smug grin tugging at either corner of his lips.
She splutters a laugh; the entire idea embodied in his words is hilarious. “Sure, okay.” She steps a little closer to him, looks up to see that his eyes are intensely blue. “I don’t think anyone’s on the balcony right now … “
This is the point where he’ll laugh at her, mock her for even pretending to take him seriously — basically backpedal furiously. She’s prepared to be amused as hell at whatever excuse he comes up with.
Derek was a little startled at the sudden hug and rush of emotion, though he caught her and tentatively patted her back soothingly, still a tad bit stunned at the force of her gratitude but glad he could help and make someone feel so thankful.
Turning on her heel, Summer stamped off to take over Derek’s bathroom. She was just annoyed enough not to care that she had nothing to put on afterward, and made a valiant attempt at using up all the hot water, too.
Derek just sighed. He could feel her annoyance. He didn’t know what to do about it though. While she seemed to have a personal vendetta against the bathroom, Derek just curled back up with Isaac, settling in and drifting back to sleep with him.
Sulking quickly gave way to utter hedonism again in Derek’s bathtub. When she came back out, wrapped up in Derek’s bathrobe (which was hilariously too big for her), with little damp wisps of hair straggling around her face, and discovered them asleep again, she shrugged and crawled back into the bed, insinuating herself between them.
Send “Auction” for your muse buying mine as their slave
Derek snarled lowly but kept his head down as he was transferred to the person that bought him, seeing a small female form before him now.
Spring’s face was still impassive, calm, but Summer closed her eyes, looking pained. She pulled her hand back, then laid the folder on the little table by the door, on top of the few medical tools there. “This is why I wish you could trust us, just a little. Everything we do makes you afraid. I don’t understand it! There’s no trick, no trap, you can ask any question you like, do anything you like!”
She buried her face in her hands, and Spring came to place a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “I told you,” she said softly, looking at Derek. “She takes it as a personal insult. Please go, for now.”
Derek didn’t hesitate at that moment, asked to leave. He left the room at half a run, but he didn’t know where to go besides his ‘own room.’ He sniffed it out by scent, remembering the way pretty well but using his nose to be sure. He shut the door and used the lock this time, not caring that he felt closed in. He needed a little security right now. He’d been yelled at for being afraid when he’d been taught to fear his entire life by the cruelty of another hand. He went into the bathroom, closing that door as well, and sat in the tub with his arms around his legs, back pressed to cold tile, easing the ache of the healing whip marks that he’d tried to keep out of sight of the others all day already.
After a long time, a sharp tap came at his door. An unfamiliar voice called, “I know you’re in there. Please open the door. I swear I just want to talk.”
Whomever it was, they went away shortly after, and there was silence from without again. Summer lifted a shaking hand and stroked Isaac’s hair, body occasionally twitching with aftershock. “Shall we do this forever, while the guards turn away everyone?” she whispered, laughing a little. “Even you must become bored of me eventually.”
“I like the sound of that.” He beamed up at her and flicked out his tongue to lick at his messy, puffy lips, not at all bothered about cleaning up just yet as they lay comfortably tangled together in the aftermath. “And I could never be bored of you — you light me up in every way, you know?” he murmured and cuddled into her side, nuzzling at her fingers as they threaded in his hair, his hands curling protectively around her hips.
“You say such sweet things … ” she murmured slowly, smiling. “No one else says such things to me.” She tried to summon up the energy to roll over, to roll him over, and didn’t quite make it, leaving them more tangled together than ever. “I suppose we should get up eventually.”
“Ah god … ” Summer blurted, jerking helplessly back against Isaac, shocked by the sense of warmth, by the familiarity of it. He wanted desperately to kiss the werewolf, but his wrists were still gripped tight. “Please, Isaac, please, I want to touch you, please,” he begged, babbled rather.
Hearing his boyfriend’s hoarse pleas, Isaac nodded weakly and took a deep breath, before gradually pulling out of Summer’s body and turning the other male over onto his back. Curling up beside him, he sniffed at the other’s neck and rumbled with contentment as he could smell himself enveloping the male, before he leaned up to press their lips together, still panting.
Utterly ignoring the way his body felt, Summer wrapped his arms, with some difficulty, around Isaac, and locked their mouths together. He whimpered slightly, desperate to show the werewolf how much he loved him.
She didn’t remember that. ‘I want to understand you then. you pulled away from me but you held me after bad dreams. you say I will stay but I don’t know why’ His expressions just seemed to be at such odds with his behavior — and with what she sensed from him. She couldn’t even decide if he liked her or just felt sorry for her.
‘I need to understand’
“I thought it would help,” he said softly, eyebrows together. “I’m not one who is used to company, but I am willing to try this with you. I want to make sure that you are safe. Can’t you see that?”
‘it did help. when you pushed me away it felt like distrust. how can you keep me safe if you don’t trust me?’ Slowly, so he could see every motion, she reached up and pushed her fingers against his frown, trying to smooth it away.
“It’s your funeral, I suppose. You better give the bartender your keys, though, or me, if I’m supposed to be your drinking partner now.”
“Takes a little more than that to kill me.” He slid a glass toward her. “Depends. Can you keep up?”
“Probably not, sadly. But I can sit by you and drink other things while you carry on; I don’t mind.” She spun the glass under her fingertips. “I hope you’re not one of those tiresome people who insists, because you’ll be carrying me out of here quite quickly if you do.”
