Muse: American Singer, Songwriter, and Actress Laura Branigan
Musician: American Musician, Rhythm Guitarist & Co-Lead Vocalist of KISS, Paul Stanley
Time: Early to Mid Eighties
[Request]
Part II to Year of the Pig
Lord was that thing freaky. Tori couldn't help but cringe at the sight of the heavy earthenware sculpture she held in her hand. As a favor for a friend, or rather, someone whom she was trying to become close with, she agreed to take the reddish-brown Oni to the art room and glaze it. She wasn't supposed to be doing it; the Art professor forebode his students to request assistance on such an important project, but alas, the things one does for companionship.
She'd finally made it to the Arts hall and was walking as briskly as she could while carry a piece of delicate pottery and trying to get used to a new cane. With her eyes bouncing from side to side, the girl looked like a lost puppy as she desperately attempted to find the room labeled 'Mr. Anderson'. Upon remembering that she didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, she decided to slow down her pace, which surely would have delighted her sore body.
Her face flushed at the memory of just how she'd ended up so sore.
It then became her new goal to make this endeavor last all day.
As she made her way to towards a sharp turn in the hallway, she could hear someone making their way towards her, and, remembering she was doing something she ought not to, she attempted to hide her face by pretending to read a notice taped on the nearest door. The footsteps drew closer, Victoria's peripheral vision telling her that the tall, muscular individual was heading right for her.
"I know you haven't seen me in years but cool it on the stalking, would you?" He exclaimed in a contrastingly friendly tone, his arms extended like a Medieval mural of a Saint.
Just by the voice, and the bouncing curly mane, she immediately knew it was Paul. But not the Paul that had her blushing just moments before, the Paul that nearly caught her in the act.
"Don't flatter yourself, Paul." Tori rolled her eyes, turning towards the approaching man.
He chuckled as he engulfed her in his impressive wingspan, his strong arms squeezing her with a grunt.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. "You take an art class?"
Tori glanced down at the pottery in her palm.
"No. Uh — I mean yes." She quickly spoke, for some reason deciding that she should lie about her true reasons for being there. "I need to glaze this. For Anderson's class."
Paul chuckled, placing an arm over her shoulder and squeezing the cap with his heavy hand.
"I'll take you there. Even help you out a bit." He winked.
The two made friendly conversation as they strolled casually through the hall, Paul's hand on her waist. It wasn't more than a few minutes until they'd reached Anderson's, Paul barging right in as if he winded the place. Luckily for them, there wasn't anyone inside, especially someone like Mr. Anderson himself, who could confirm that Tori in fact was not a student of his.
They'd settled at one of the well-used tables, scratches, dried clay and stains of paints littering it's surface. Tori got up to get the glazes, per her friend's instructions, leaving Paul to sit with the lone head.
"What is this, some sort of creepy new Chia Pet?" He joked, touching the cold terracotta cheek of the demon.
"I wish." Tori laughed, retrieving the black, gold and red glazed she needed.
Paul said nothing in response, engulfed in his studying of the junk of molded earth before him. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his hand reaching out to turn the face towards him.
"See something you like, buddy?" the girl quipped, having a seat next to the curly hair man. It was then that his eyes were alight with realization, an accomplished smile flooding his features.
"Wait a minute — I got it! This is Fred's!" He exclaimed.
Tori's eyes doubled in size, instinctually turning the sculpture's face away from Paul's amused gaze. "It isn't!" She rebutted with self-conscious indignation, slightly stumbling over her words.
"No, it is! I knew it looked familiar! I remember it! Fred's in my class! He told it was Japanese folklore or something." Paul took the demon into his hands, continuing. "Lazy bastard, couldn't even be bothered to come up with his own idea."
Tori dropped her shoulders and flicked her hair out of her face. "Fine." She sighed. "You caught me."
"I knew it!" Paul howled. "But... why are you glazing his pottery, anyway? You know it's against the rules for him to get outside help."
"Yes, I know it is, Goody-Two-Shoes. I'm doing him a solid."
Paul laughed. "You? Doing a solid? Ha! I don't recall you ever doing a solid for anyone." He then paused for a moment, his face contorting in sudden awareness. "No... no way! You're seeing Fred aren't you?"
"No! I'm not! Can't a girl just have a friend!" Tori pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears.
"No, no. I'm right! You two are totally going out!"
The girl's face was burning hot, then deciding that any attempt at refuting the accusations was pointless. Although she and Fred really weren't dating, she'd be lying if she said she hadn't taken an interest in the boy. But Paul snatched her out of her wallowing with a sly line.
"Wow, Tor. Cheating on Paulie-boy already, huh?"
Tori couldn't help but smile at the childhood nickname they'd given to Paul Stanley. Being that there were two Pauls in their friend group, one of which who refused to be called Stanley, they'd resorted to differentiating the two by calling Stanley 'Paulie-boy' and Caravello 'Paul' whenever they were both in the room.
"We're not together, Paul." The brunette rebutted.
"Fine, fine. I guess if you aren't together than there's no harm in sleeping around on him." The man smirked, taking a step or two closer to her. "But Fred? You're way out of his league, honey."
The brunette blushed, her hand subconsciously rising up to pet her warm cheek with a sort of impish shyness.
"Is he really?" She spoke flirtatiously, keen on regaining the leadership she once had over the boys in their collective youth. "Then what kind of guy would you say I should go for?"
"Well," the man purred. "Definitely someone older — not a little freshman like Freddy. But then, at the same time, not too old, like Mr. Anderson, for example."
"I see, I see. Go on."
"Someone, tall... well, at least taller than you." He chuckled. "Hmm, Italian, funny, great smile, cute ass—"
"Oh, God!" Tori laughed, gently nudging his shoulder. "What about his hair?" She then posed.
"Oh, hair. As for hair, it should be dark, long, curly, and in abundance everywhere." He strolled up to her, his heat bouncing off of her skin as he whispered his hot breath into her ear.
"So... someone like... you?" She said, voice soft and eyes twinkling.
"Exactly. Someone exactly like me. Know anyone like that?" He smirked, his hand caressing her hair.
Tori took it upon herself to make the first move, grabbing him by the back of his peck and pulling their faces together to a hot kiss. Paul didn't hold back at all, immediately responding by taking the brown-haired girl into his arms. They proceeded to make a bed out of the art table, brushed and supplies tumbling to the floor with an alarming racket, but the lovers couldn't have been less concerned with the damage they might do. There was only one thing on their minds.
"Let me lock the door." Paul said, pulling away for a quick moment. "We wouldn't want anyone interrupting our... creative process."
With the turn of a key, it was safe to say (much to the dismay of one Fredrick, Class of '88) that the pottery would not be the thing getting glazed that evening.
***
Requested part two of "Year of the Pig"
Hope you enjoyed!
1358 words