Word Count: 1734
~Vaela
Pacing back and forth, I watch Hale, blissfully entertained by his sketchbook under the dim candlelight.
"I'm bored," I complain.
"There are plenty of things to do," he responds distractedly.
After dinner, we found ourselves in one of the far, generally avoided rooms. I'm not sure why we stay away. It's calm in here, with the low lighting, plenty of books and generous seating.
"Not really. Larsen has returned to whatever hellscape he comes from, Eyla is working and..." I draw off, swinging my arms around hopelessly.
"You could read?"
"All I ever do is read these days." I stride in front of him, back and forth. He doesn't glance up.
Groaning, I fall back into the chair opposite him in the most dramatic fashion I can manage. Boredom leeches from every pore, yet nothing sounds appetising enough to sate it.
Getting out of the cave would help, but I can already anticipate Hale's reaction if I brought it up.
Finally, Hale sets down his sketchbook, holding my gaze with him. "We can talk about anything you wish, then."
"We could make this more fun and drink a little." I haven't had alcohol since becoming mortal, and I'm curious to see how it affects me. And more importantly, I'm curious to see if it can wash away all the thoughts of Will that still plague me.
The slightest frown dips between Hale's brow. "Alcohol doesn't affect me."
I kick my legs around. "Surely you have something to take the edge off."
"I prefer sobriety."
He looks as though he's tempted to pick his book up again, so I get to my feet, ensuring that he can see how aggravated he's made me, and how in need of a distraction I am.
He rolls his eyes slightly. "But at the risk of contributing to your spiralling mental state, I can provide you with what you desire."
He holds his hand out, and suddenly a frosty bottle of clear liquid appears in his hand. I startle, still amazed by what he can conjure up.
I tilt my head, scrunching my nose distastefully. "That's tiny."
"You're mortal," he reminds me flatly.
"I'm mourning!" I prop my hands on my hips. Will wouldn't approve of me drinking with a Pureblood like this, but a night to remove the shackles of my pain would be a welcome relief.
"It's exactly why we will keep it to a minimum." He's bartering with me. He allows me to drink under his supervision, as long as it is not more than I could handle.
I'm in the mood to argue, but I'll take what I get before that bottle vanishes.
"Thank you, Hale." I grin sardonically, reaching for the bottle.
Before I can grasp it, he pulls it just out of my reach. "I'm only agreeing to this to see you smile again. Even if it's not for long."
"You're insufferable." I huff out a breath, snatching the bottle from him. It takes me seconds to unscrew the top and toss it all back.
I cough at the searing burn down my throat that it leaves in its wake. "Wow, this tastes worse than I remember."
"Sure does."
"Where's yours?" I ask, gesturing at Hale's bare hands. If I'm drinking alone, it's just sad. But with Hale, perhaps we can have a little fun.
"You are a terrible influence on me," he murmurs, although he doesn't sound particularly upset, as a bottle of his own appears in his hands.
Hale takes his time sipping at his drink, as my own haze of quiet euphoria creeps up on me, drowning out my sorrow.
We sit and talk for a while, about all things in this realm. He's easy to speak to, listening silently and responding intentionally. I wish I had the ease of self that he does, although I suppose that comes with the territory when he's lived as long as he has.
I lounge back in my seat, kicking my legs about as I giggle.
"That's when I told Will I was never drinking again because I embarrassed myself more than I would like to admit in front of my new friend." I press my hand against my cheek, feeling how burning hot my skin is, and not just because of all the laughing I've done.
Hale smiles. "Eyla?"
"Thankfully she is as strange as me, so evidently it all worked out in the end." It's far too easy to go off on tangents with Hale. Soon he's going to know my entire life story.
"You two are the perfect pair," he murmurs.
"She would love to be here, especially if it meant seeing you drink," I joke. She would be teasing me too, encouraging me to do something wild, like kiss the Pureblood, or something, and blame it on the alcohol if it went wrong.
Hale glances at his empty glass. "I'm hardly drinking."
"Neither...But I feel good," I admit. My body is buzzing, a faint fogginess over my mind. But through the haze, are feelings of pleasure. I want to dance around and be happy.
Hale frowns. "I'll get you some water."
No. I don't want this to end. I'm having more fun than I've had in a long time.
"I'm okay, seriously, I'll get it myself," I tell him, hoping he will think I did, when I didn't.
He nods, so I get up, making my way toward the kitchen. My balance tips a little, but with both palms propped against the hallway walls, I steadily make my way down it.
I hear Hale follow me, as I make it to the sink, filling my glass.
Turning, I see him eyeing my sceptically, arms folded over his chest. "I should drink this, but I'm having fun."
"Vae..." I admonishes softly, shaking his head.
"What are you going to do if I don't drink it, huh? Punish me?" I tease, waving the half-filled glass around. I'm meant to be drinking more, not taking the edge off with this water.
His gaze darkens. "Don't tempt me."
My stomach flutters. Does he really want this to stop? Does he really want to resume our quiet existence in here? I want to push him, to see how far he will let himself go, because I know what is happening between us isn't one-sided.
"I get a feeling your punishments aren't exactly punishing," I murmur, biting my lower lip. His gaze tracks the movement, his expression strained.
"I wouldn't bet on it."
I've allowed myself to imagine on more than one occasion what kind of lover Hale is. Thorough, a mix of gentle and rough, maybe? I shouldn't be, but I'm eager to find out.
I smirk. "Hmm, we'll see."
Turning around, I go to pour the water back down the sink, but suddenly a hand is on my forearm, Hale moving behind me with otherworldly speed. Some of the water splashes out, but most of it stays in the glass.
"Uh ah. Drink," he quietly orders, breath brushing up against my ear, chest against my back and his strong grip remains on my forearm.
I shiver, knowing there is no way I can disobey him now. "So demanding..."
He lets me go, and I drink all of what is in the glass. The alcohol doesn't matter anymore. I'm riding off the high of having him so close to me, pressed up against me. And he doesn't let go of me right away, and I don't dare move.
"Good girl." His breath sounds strained in my ear.
"I don't think these thoughts I'm having make me much of a good girl," I admit quietly. Sinful thoughts streak through my mind, my entire body buzzing with desire. I've never wanted someone so desperately.
I yelp softly, as his hand suddenly presses on my back, bending me over the sink.
"What are you doing?" I ask breathlessly.
Before I can lean back up, he presses his hips into me, and I lurch forward slightly. My senses alight, overwhelmed by the feeling of him, of the insinuation of what he would do if there were no clothes between us.
"Allowing myself to imagine, for one moment, what it would be like..." he drifts off, resting his hand on my hip, while I remain bent forward, biting my lip to avoid saying something that he may not reciprocate.
"To what?"
"To fuck you." My heart skips a beat at the raw intention of his words. "If we were mates, I mean."
"Touch me then." I'm practically begging.
He runs his hand down my back, so gently I could scream with frustration. "And be disappointed?"
"You might not be," I whisper.
He backs away, letting me straighten. When I turn to look at him, he's sweeping his hands through his hair, gripping the dark strands. He's holding himself back, internally fighting with a version of himself I haven't seen until now.
"You should go back to your room," he mutters, facing away from me. My jaw tightens. My entire body is quivering, anticipating his touch. I want him.
I lick my lips. "Why? Don't trust yourself?"
He turns suddenly, eyes icy cold now, raging with a different storm. "No, I don't trust myself."
I want to play with him some more. "What's the worst you can do?"
A frown creases in his brow, eyes glazing over as he looks over me. Suddenly I feel like prey in a predator's spotlight.
"Actually bend you over this counter and fuck you, Vae. That's very much a possibility right now," he growls lowly, the seductive edge to his tone making my heart stutter. If he did it, I don't think I would stop him.
I shouldn't want this...He's a pureblood, I vowed not to touch him, to become involved with him. It will only hurt me.
"We have had way too much to drink," I mutter, flattening my palm against my damp forehead.
Hale looks as though he's forcing his breath to calm. "You're right. Let's get some sleep."
I don't have a chance to pull him to a stop, so we can talk, as he brushes past me, and out the kitchen.
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~Midika 💜🐼