The Fates (Book II)

8.9 - Animals

Let's check in with #Axria in modern-day Greece :) ...

P.S. The soundtrack for this scene has the same title as the scene itself! woohoo!! It's an instrumental version of the Maroon 5 song :)

P.P.S. This is probably super random for a lot of you - but for anyone else who is a fan of Jensen/Axel (as I obviously am), may I suggest before reading this upFate, type in the search "Jensen Ackles British accent" and watch the 6-second YouTube video that pops up! It's a clip of his character Alec from the TV series Dark Angel, and seeing that clip might give a better sense of what a certain line in this scene sounds like, hehe ;)

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Scene 9: Animals

A.D. 2015

He didn't like to watch her while she slept, because she was too beautiful for him to get away with shıt like that. Too beautiful to look at, when she wasn't looking back. Staring into her open eyes had always made him feel alive, but when she closed them, when she lay there unaware that he was watching, it was like the animal inside him died. And when the animal was dead, he didn't like to think what else, if anything, was left. So he couldn't dare to watch her while she slept.

Slipped out of bed and slid his legs — sore as hell from all that sex, too much and yet never enough — into the nearest pair of jeans, grabbing his phone and crossing the hotel room to step out onto the balcony. Shut the glass door behind him, stupid enough to glance back through the pane as he did, just to check whether she was still sleeping. Of course she was, and looking had been a mistake, because he felt his gaze lingering on her fυcking perfect face, as if the wall of glass could keep him safe. From what she did to him, from what she always would. Nothing had ever shielded him from that or ever could.

As if on cue, to tear his stare away from the lethally beautiful view, his phone began to vibrate. He had been expecting a call around now; it was only a few minutes late. Looked down to see 'Bitchass Kid' flashing on his screen. This label was the most recent addition to his address book, but Axel had known who it was without having to look.

He answered the call, wasting no breath on a greeting. "I know you want details, but like I've said, Jett — I'm not one to fυck and tell."

"Do us all a favor and cut the crap, Axel," the young Londoner scoffed. "Nobody cares that your ego is ten times the size of your cock. These calls aren't about your maniacal sex life; they're about your fυcking job."

"Well, given who I'm fυcking, there's not much of a difference—"

"Whom."

Axel arched a brow. "Huh?"

"Whom you're fυcking. Learn some English and maybe I'll spare a few scraps of respect for your sad Yankee ass."

"No offense, kid, but I don't want you feeling anything about my ass."

"It's a figure of sodding speech..."

"Yeah, well, figure this: I've got no business answering to some punkass bitch. Whatever you were calling to ask, just shove it up your own 'sodding' ass. I'm doing my damn job, and I'm sure as hell not doing it for you, and that's everything you need to know. That's all."

"Oh, now is that so? Then tell me — if you're so self-important, why even bother answering my calls?" Jett goaded. "You must know deep down in your wannabe-alpha-male soul, Golde, that I am your boss."