Seth POV:
I feel my brown eyes flutter open when the bright sunlight stream through the window. I smile, stretching my legs, only to find that they are tangled with another set of legs. I sense the person shift behind me, the strong arm tightening around my body as I feel lips press against my shoulder. I lean back into the muscular body and hum under my breath while keening for some action.
I turn my head, pleasantly surprised to see a pair of blue eyes watching me. I feel my breath catch right in my throat. I definitely hadn't expected Dean would spend a night, but I couldn't say I regretted it. I missed our best days of walking with him like a couple and talking with him while binding our fingers. I also missed waking next to him in the morning and resting my head on his shoulder while sleeping. There was much more, but I felt satisfied at the moment.
Any thoughts of other things are pushed out of my mind when I feel his hand wrap around my throat. He leans forward and presses a kiss on the curve of my neck, his tongue lapping at the golden-brown skin before his lips move up to my ear. He affirms that he's pushing his body right against me before speaking. "What are you thinking?"
"You!" I whisper, placing my hand on his cheek and staring into his eyes.
He pulls away from me suddenly and moves to the window, stepping on it. My heart begs not to ignore me and go away without talking, but there are some compulsions that it knows. There is still distance between us that we don't appreciate, either. He's still moving like the wind while I'm moving like sand. The darkness is approaching already, the fear of trouble. I still don't have the guts to open the door and face it. It's all because I can't read my husband's mind now.
Surprisingly, he glances over his shoulder and looks right into my brown orbs, which are longing for him. Life has always had a way of fucking me over, no matter how much I march on, and it seems like it's found a way to get a lot more creative. He looks away, putting his hands in his pockets and thinking about something. "You coming?" He asks and jumps down, knowing for a fact that he doesn't have to turn around because I will follow.
I resist the urge to point at myself like an idiot and nod dumbly. I find my feet like a toddler, stumbling up on the window after him. Much like he has followed me. We follow one another no matter where the path leads us. "You've to slow down," I remark, finally catching up next to him and holding his arm almost to the point of pain.
"Or what?" He smirks, turning to peer at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
I swallow an enormous lump in my throat and shake my head unknowingly. I don't know what to say. If I reply that he's not pleasing to hear, he will let go of me in a blink of an eye. I don't want that, so I barely provide a small smile and continue adventuring through the forest. It's all so beautiful. This earth, this forest, this morning and.. him! To tell the truth, they all look fake to me, but what seems real is him!
I don't register anything he's saying as actual words, too focused on the rhythm of his voice, the way it pours into my ear and trickles down my spine like honey dripping off a spoon. I didn't know what I would do without him in my life, and honestly, I'd only God to thank for that. I hum periodically when his tone changes, so it sounds like he's paying attention to something he's caring about.
With a confused mind, I turn to look at him, but he's nowhere near found. I get shocked. I don't know what's going on around me. I'm feeling like a fool. How would he disappear while leaving all this behind? I can still feel the places that he has touched are sweet. Along with those, everything would remember him a lot. "Dean!" I say, wandering around the forest in search of him but ending up with Roman and Carmella, who are looking for me.
They give me a pitying look when Dean's name slips out of my mouth in a possessive manner. It almost kills me. Suddenly there's a tinge of something different in the air. However, as I try, I can't put a finger on it because it is something. It is something. It is uncomfortable. There's a gnawing feeling of being watched, distracting my mind and making me alert to get away.
Aleister POV:
My eyes are watching the Queen of Vampire world, that is, Zelina Vega, lining up soy drip candles methodically along with the granite altar. One by one, carefully inspecting each before placing it down. The dark room only illuminates by the amber candlelight feels too warm, too close with its gothic decor and hand-carved, black walnut furniture. The air carries her sing-song voice as she praises me with all her heart.
It's enchanting. I walk over, almost pleasure in my gait as my rough hand firmly grasps the younger woman's jaw, the bruising touch melting to a gentle caress of her reddened scruff. I lend in, sealing the space between us until a mere millimeter lingers between our faces, stroking her jaw as if Zelina is the most precious, fine china. "You're my strength." My voice is cold, yet enticing, with roughening undertones of what can only be described as whiskey smooth.
My eyes are blackened and rendered soulless from years of desire and longing. Or perhaps I'm simply this evil all along, and all it takes is an act of a fiendish deity to bring it entirely to the surface. My other hand pinches black salt, sprinkling a line parallel to the arrangement, almost a ritual blessing of protection. My ears perk up when the more menacing guard strikes the gold locker three times.
"Come in," I order, annoyed while walking over and sitting on the gold throne, which is made only for me.
The spy vampire comes up with two guards, pushing him closer but still a suitable distance off the throne. His head bows to provide respect and keeps it there until I signal him to inform the main thing. He nods and clasps his hands together for the strength to talk in front of me. "I saw Ambrose's husband in one of the forests in Ohio. He talked to some guys about Ambrose's presence around him."
My hands clutch the arms of the throne as my laughter fills the entire room, and the vampire world looks good with me right now. It's nothing but gratuitous. A laugh in my face fades away and brings a bitter form instantly. Along with the fire, it scratches the itch for pain that has been left deep inside my soul. I pull myself to the edge and stare at him with vicious anger. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He nods and steps back in panic at what I might do if anger ruins me.
I shove the throne away with one swat and growl enough that the whole vampire world gets vibrated. All the candles fall over and fire the whole place like the damn sun, but Zelina throws her hands in the air and halts everything in between. It causes the wholesome action around me to stop with lifelessness. Nothing but the desire for ashes. My heart burns with anger, screaming to explode.
"My king shouldn't worry about anything. I'll take care of this." She picks up one of the candles, lights the wick, then blows out the match. "Please trust me." Once the wick has burned down to a lower flame, she comes behind me and raises the candle to a decent level of height, dripping the liquid over my shoulder, letting gravity pull it down her side as she drinks in the softest gasp of surprise from me.
The temperature is perfect, hot enough to tempt and torture but safe enough not to burn. "You know I trust you." I stop the younger woman, grabbing her hand to lace our fingers together with a squeeze over my heart, a silent consent, and affirmation of my state. I trust no one, never do, but I do trust her with my life.
Her eyes flicker warmly for a moment, so briefly, but she recovers quickly, playing it off and returning the squeeze. Having a devilish smirk, she strikes a match and lights another, observing it as it burns down to a level acceptable for play. Her nature reflects here. Usually, she likes to play in the shadows and prey on people's most precious things. So what if I let her?
