Vampiric Interdiction

[15] Close Call

Like delicate ribbons of gold over a bed of soft silk, thick locks fell against the faelna’s chest as she brushed her fingers through the now dry strands. She avoided Villahr’s gaze as though if it were to land on her it would burn hotter than his touch.

“Like I said,” she reiterated, “I’ve been home!” Karolinna spoke with harsh seriousness and it sounded almost like she were angry with him, though she did not intend for her tone to come off as such. She had no decent answer that Villahr would accept as truth and so the slightly anxious female stuck to her original statement. Acting the fool rarely worked, but it didn’t stop her from trying when she knew all else would fail.

“Don’t lie to me, Karolinna.” Villahr used her full name specifically to upset her. The more her irritation built up, the less control she had. Often things she didn’t necessarily want to reveal got pushed out amongst the slew of indignant comments to follow before she realized it.

“I already told you I went out for a drag.”

“I know you did,” answered Villahr. He watched as Karolinna scrambled about the room in a towel, hardly ever looking up long enough to catch his eye. 

It wasn’t far off that going out for a puff was precisely what she had done — on her down days, more fumes emitted Karolinna than from the multitude of smoke-stacks that topped various refinery plants all across the region — but judging by her less than mellowed persona at this moment, Villahr wasn’t buying she’d just inhaled a load of nicotine. Although, in a matter of minutes, her body would burn off any trace of the restoratives that the cancer stick provided her, the almost jovial disposition she took on as a result generally lasted much longer.

Karolinna gave her friend a dirty look as she pulled a pair of shorts and a linen night tunic from her drawers and chucked it at him. 

“You don’t trust me?” she asked.

Villahr zagged to the side, the clothing bomb missing him by a few inches and landing in a muddled pile on the disturbed sheets.

“Oh I believe your story, I’m just quite certain you are purposely leaving important pieces of it out. Which leads me to wonder what exactly you’ve been doing tonight that you do not wish for me to know.”

Karolinna’s thoughts strayed back to the dark one she’d met amongst the trees earlier that night. At that moment she couldn't be more thrilled at the fact that Villahr did not share her insightful powers through touch. She was already putty in his hands at the slightest brush of contact, she did not need him to be able to read her very mind whilst she quickly unravelled internally as well.

“Will you just drop it already, Lahr? You’re starting to piss me off!” Villahr’s stubbornness was well known, and the faelna knew he wouldn’t stop until he got the answer he was looking for. It was an annoying trait to have when Karolinna was frequently the one on the receiving end of questions and inquiries, but she could see how it could be beneficial.

Villahr shook his head. Grabbing the garb that the blonde before him had previously used as a makeshift, rather pathetic attempt at a detrimental projectile, he stood up from the bed and walked towards Karolinna. Her arms were vertical at her sides; a fist, tightened and clenched, at the bottom end of each. He grabbed one firm duke and pried it open to ply the material into her grip. After closing her mitt again, Villahr slid his hand enclosed around her, further up her limb.

“Going to stick to our story are we?” he asked.

“Drop. It!”

Villahr raised his hands in what could easily pass as admitting defeat, but Karolinna knew better; that and the look on his face told her otherwise. She watched intently as Villahr’s hand slid into the pocket of his white slacks and came back into view with his small cellular in clutch. He brought the phone up to his ear after gliding his finger over the surface of the screen, the heat emanating from the pad of his digit turning the mobile on without him even needed to put pressure on it.