I should've went with my first mind and left last Tuesday where he was. He went from two stars to one in a matter of minutes leaving me unsatisfied and highly pissed off. As soon as he was finished I kicked his aŝs out and deleted his number.
That'll be the last time he wastes my time, it's valuable.
The next time he texts me he's getting hit with the "Who is this?" text, I swear.
Lying in bed, I'm all revved up with nowhere to go. With last Tuesday off the roster I have a spot available and I know exactly who I want to fill it, and me.
Ever since Warin left I've had this insatiable need for him. It's only been a few hours but I've looked at my phone a million times hoping for a text or a call. My insides are in knots waiting for any sign that he's feeling the same way I am. I haven't been this twisted over a guy since high school and I've never been this hooked this fast. It hit me all of the sudden and now I can't shake the feeling.
He was sort of rude but I could tell it was just a defense mechanism because I do the same thing. Even though I know he's a bit prickly, every thought of him sends my heart racing and my breath into unevenness. I've been kicking myself since he left for not getting a hug from him. I want to know what his body feels like pressed against mine. I want to breathe him in and feel his breath against my neck creating a warmth there that glides along my body like fingertips.
My body writhes against the bed at the thought and I clench my thighs together. I can't take this anymore.
An idea crosses my thoughts that hasn't dared enter the halls of my mind in years.
Touch yourself.
I hear the words as clear as day and if I'm not mistaken I hear them in Warin's voice. I must really be tripping hard if I'm hearing his voice in my head like my conscience. I must be tripping even harder if I'm thinking about masturbation. I haven't had to stimulate myself in years, that's what the roster is for.
As I grab my phone to call someone up to scratch this itch the voice comes through once again.
Please.
My breath comes out shakier than I expected as I toy with the thought. Do I really want to possibly waste more time calling someone off the bench? It would be so much easier to take care of myself wouldn't it? I mean, I'm a grown woman. I should not feel uncomfortable with...doing that. Just thinking it makes me break out in a fit of girlish giggles. The idea of it makes my cheeks heat but the thought still lingers in the halls of my mind like a tardy student.
"Calm down Dre, breathe," I coach aloud, "Either you're doing it or you're not." I exhale slowly, closing my eyes as I do so. The voice interrupts my peace with another plea.
Please yourself Andrea. Do it for me.
I groan, knowing full well that the pleading is what's done me in. Even though I've decided, I can't help but feel embarrassed as I mentally prep myself. Quickly I decide to get under the covers, I figure I won't be as ashamed if I'm hidden beneath the shield of blankets.
Cold fingers shock my skin as I slip my panties off. Cupping them to my mouth I blow on them to warm them up before laying back to allow my imagination to run wild.
My fingers glide softly up my body over the thinness of my silk nightgown but in my head it's Warin's hands, rough and thick caressing the outline of my body over the soft material. Easing the straps down my shoulders, my body squirms against the warm air as I imagine it as his heavy body on top of mine – a position I never under any circumstances do but sense it's all fantasy I figure why not. My nipples stand erect waiting for attention as my fingers rub and pinch them lightly, tugging on them ever-so-slightly making me moan.
"Yes, let me hear you," the voice groans almost immediately.
I get wetter at the sound of his voice in my ears and make haste to the main attraction with one hand. My fingers slide down my slit slowly, eliciting another moan from my throat. In my mind I'm looking down into Warin's hazel eyes as he licks me and it makes my breath shorten and speed up.
"You're so beautiful," the voice encourages, sounding a little short of breath itself.
My imagination takes over completely at that as I work my fingers against me. All I see behind tightly closed eyes is Warin's head between my thighs. I feel the spongy texture of his tongue caress my sweet spot over and over in a figure-eight before dipping into my wetness. I watch him make love to me with his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine as I grind into him. Easily, he slips two fingers inside working them in and out in short bursts.
It feels so good my eyes start to water. I feel his warm breath against me as his fingers speed up their actions. I'm so close that a few touches of my nub have me falling over the edge. Biting into my hand I come loud and hard and the vision of those pretty hazel eyes fades away.
As my breathing slows down I let out a shaky breath and laugh uncontrollably. I don't think I've ever come that hard with anyone and here I am tearing the house down over visions of a guy I met only hours ago. He's probably not going to call and I probably won't see him again but I'll be damned if he didn't provide extremely good...motivation.
Easing to the end of the mattress, I hang on to the bed, my legs are still shaking. I shake my head knowing full well if my imagination can do that there's no telling what the real deal can do. Sighing, I grab clothes for after I shower and head to the bathroom.
**~**
I'd be lying if I said I didn't attempt a round two once I got in the shower but the inspiration that gripped me moments before didn't fall on me again. After that disappointment, it didn't take me long to wash my bits and dress in a huge t-shirt and panties so I could cook dinner. I realized I hadn't eaten once I checked the clock. I try not to eat after eight but time got away from me after the craziness that was today. One ten o'clock dinner out of the year isn't that terrible, is it?
Throwing chopped veggies into my egg mixture, I dance my way over to the fridge to grab some ham to go in my omelet. The stereo is blasting Drake and thanks to a soundproofing charm I created when I was younger the neighbors won't complain. I rap along to my favorite part and whip the egg mixture together one last time before pouring it into a butter covered skillet. Searching for a spatula, Wolves by Kanye West comes on and immediately reminds me of Dylan. I haven't called her to tell her about any of this but honestly she's dealing with enough right now.
She has a whole pack that looks up to her now, a group of people expecting things of her, depending on her, she has a... family now. It feels strange to say it but even more strange to feel a pang of emotion in my chest at the thought. I'm happy for her, I really am, but I have to say I'm afraid she'll forget about me.
For so long it's just been me and Dylan. We were two peas in a pod but now she has a mate, his family, and she's a Luna which means his pack is her pack. She may not see it now or appreciate it at the moment but she belongs there with them, they're her kind. I can't help but feel that pang again knowing I'm the last of mine. My parent's coven is gone, my parents are gone – it's just me, myself, and I. I sigh at the loneliness in that statement as the scent of burning food hits my nose, snapping me to the present.
"Oh shįt," I gripe, pulling the skillet off of the stovetop. Smoke alarms blare loudly over the sounds of Frank Ocean as a puff of smoke fills the room, following the skillet like a shadow.
Groaning, I drop the skillet in the sink and run water on it, scraping at it with a spatula in an attempt to rid the surface of the crisped egg disaster. The alarms in every room are going off, combined with the loud music still blasting the house is filled with so much racket I can't even hear myself think.
At the snap of my fingers every noise in the house halts and I'm left to total silence. It's only then I hear the rapid knocking on my front door. The clock above the stove says it's nearly midnight and that knowledge alone makes me roll my eyes. The only person who would dare come over here this late is Dylan. I can only imagine what petty fight her and White Chocolate have gotten into now. I hope it's not over that weird Connor kid again, he really gives me the creeps.
Pulling the front door to me, I open my mouth to give her a hard time but close it as soon as I see who's in front of me.
"Hi," Warin greets then slides past me like I invited him in.
My eyes are the size of saucers and I stand in front of the door as if none of this just happened. There's no way the man I've been yearning for all night just popped up on my porch looking like a snack while I on the other hand am in an oversized hole filled shirt with my hair propped on top of my head in the ugly cousin of a messy bun.
"Are you going to stand there all night?" Warin asks from behind me, letting me know that now not only do I look a mess but I look stupid as well.
Closing the door, I take my time locking it, trying to think of an excuse as to why I look the way I do. My brain, the useless mass of pink, immediately goes blank leaving me with no option other than the truth. Turning to him I see he's taking off his leather jacket and placing it over the back of a living room chair.
A smile crosses his lips when he turns to me and it makes me rethink the reliability of my legs for a moment.
"Sorry to have woken you," he apologizes, gesturing to my appearance.
He looks like he just rolled out of bed himself, he's in a loose fitting muscle shirt, baggy sweats, and Jordan slides. If I was thinking I would've went along with his ready-made excuse but because my brain doesn't like to work when those big hazel eyes are on mine, I contradict him.
"I wasn't asleep," I admit, "I was cooking...and got distracted." I only add the last bit when his eyes fall over to the sink and the remnants of my dinner inside of it.
"If you were right here then why didn't you answer me?" he asks, wrinkling his brow, "I was out there knocking for like five minutes."
My hand flies to my forehead. "Sorry about that, I had my music blasting and then the smoke alarms were going off. It was so loud in here the dead could've woken up."
His frown only deepens at my admission. "Loud? There was no noise. It sounded totally silent from the porch."
Mulling my eyes, a small grin finds my lips. "It's a spell," I start, but seeing his expression hasn't changed I wave him off, "Don't worry about it. What did you need? I wasn't expecting to see you again for a while."
His eyebrows raise then as if he'd just remembered he didn't drive all of those miles just to ask me about my nightly habits. "Well," he begins, his eyes following me as I float into the kitchen, "basically I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about you – I mean you and me... and this whole witch thing," he pauses as if trying to un-fluster his thoughts, "I just don't feel like I learned enough about this." His finger points between us quickly, making me blush.
All I can imagine is the act I had those fingers doing in my mind earlier. I have to turn away before I burst into laughter. "Would you like something to drink or eat Warin?" I ask, biting my lip to hold back childish laughter at my thoughts of just what he was eating in my mind earlier.
"No thank you," he answers calmly, making me feel silly for how funny I'm finding this moment.
Breathing deeply, I get myself together and make quick work of fixing a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I walk briskly past Warin to the couch and we take the same seats we held earlier.
"So what is it you want to know exactly?" I ask, taking a spoonful of cereal into my mouth.
His cheeks redden a bit and he bites his lip slightly before asking, "Did you go to Hogwarts? Well not exactly Hogwarts obviously but like a school for magic?"
The cereal in my mouth keeps me from laughing at his question, which I'm glad for because he was clearly embarrassed to ask. I finish chewing, holding up a finger for a moment, before answering. "No. Although that's definitely an idea I wish someone would've thought of. It would've saved me a lot of trouble and failed experiments when I was younger."
He frowns slightly, "Failed experiments?"
A small laugh escapes me at the memories of blown off eyebrows and exploding potions. I quickly explain to him how crazy my experiments used to get. I've lost eyebrows, pieces of hair from my head, my sight for a short amount of time, and my hearing when I attempted my soundproofing charm the first time. Changing and fixing my mistakes was the first thing I learned to do well as a witch.
"Wow, that sounds...crazy," he admits with a laugh, "And your parents didn't care at all?"
My heart catches only slightly at the mention of them. Shaking my head I answer, a sad smile on my lips, "They died before I developed my powers. Their deaths kind of kick started my abilities really. Like I told you before, when they passed away I got their powers and the rest of the coven's as well. I'm still not totally sure what my power is or what all I can do. There were a lot of witches in my parents' coven so, yeah." I stop talking as I notice his eyes widen with every word.
He looks away and lets the moment pass over us like a slow moving rain cloud. "I hate to ask," he starts, before long, "and you can ignore me if you'd like I understand, trust me, but how did your parents' coven die? I can't wrap my head around it."
I smile at the fact he's not asking about my parents, even though I know it's bound to be the next question, and go into the tale of my coven's demise. How they date all the way back to Salem, then on to New Orleans, how when my parents were teenagers a fire broke out in the estate the coven called home. How by the grace of God my mom and dad were on a date and returned home to a blazing mansion, a dead coven, and the power and last memories of the slain witches.
"The doors were boarded and blocked not only with physical obstacles but with dark magic as well. The mansion burned to the ground with them trapped inside and my parents left for good letting whoever did it believe they'd slaughtered the whole clan. A couple of years later, they had me and raised me up knowing exactly who and what I am. From a child I knew me and any siblings I would have were the only hope for our coven to regain it's numbers. But my parents never got around to having any more kids so once they passed, my powers were activated and so went the power succession," I finish, hoping I didn't leave anything out and praying he doesn't ask me about my mom and dad. I allow myself two moments a day to think about them – when I wake and before I sleep – but today it seems they've been more present than ever.
Understanding crosses his features before a frown of confusion takes over. "So what about my family?" he asks apprehensively.
Sitting my empty bowl on the table I hold my hands out and close my eyes, trying to remember where I placed the book so I can call it properly. Upon remembering the book filled with magical bloodlines appears in my hands, making Warin jump slightly.
"I have to start getting used to that," he laughs nervously, standing to his feet to come sit beside me. "What's in here?"
I relish in the warmth of his body beside mine for a moment before answering. "It's almost like a register for magical families."
With pursed his lips he asks, "Doesn't that seem kind of dangerous? What if the book falls into the wrong hands? It's like a readymade hit-list."
A wide smile covers my face. Instead of answering him I open the book and ask him, "Do you see anything?"
Quickly he nods, uncertainty on his face.
"That's good news. These books have a sort of failsafe to them. If your family line isn't inside then you can't see anything, it just looks like an old book full of empty pages. As for the people who have family in the book, if you don't know the incantation to open the pages all you'll see is page after page of last names," I watch the realization cross his face as he flips through the pages of names from Larue to Washington.
"This book is kind of like the internet in terms of family information," I explain, grabbing the book from his hands, closing it, "If I place my hand over it and say the incantation and the last name I want to search when I open the book the entire book will be that bloodline's family history."
His mouth drops open, "Are you kidding me?"
I giggle, shaking my head no, "Would you like to see?"
He nods his head yes ferociously, excitement all over his face like a kid at Christmas.
Smirking, I place a hand over the book and state aloud, "Quaerere, Cooper." Had I not seen the sheen of light glow from within the pages I'd have thought it didn't work. On the outside it's as if nothing's changed but peeling the book open I see the familiar sight of a sprawling family tree growing and etching it's way across the paper, racing me to the next page.
Warin's mouth is wide open. He flips through in awe, knowing that the pieces of parchment were just covered in surnames only to now discover pages and pages of small portraits connecting branch by branch leading to the last page in the book to a portrait of me.
"That's you," he breathes, tracing the border of the picture with his finger.
I grin, looking down at the picture, knowing it changes every year like a school photo. This time I have the bangs I wore earlier this year, my hair is swept over one shoulder and I'm beaming up at the both of us from the page in a smile I only ever see in this book. I haven't smiled that wide, that bright, that happily in years.
"This is my mom and dad," I inform him, pointing to the pictures of Olivia Marie Goudeau and Joseph Elias Cooper, "This book always feels a mile long whenever I use it since they combine family trees whenever people get married. I can't complain though; it keeps me from having to look up both sides of my family individually."
I can hear myself rambling but I can't seem to stop. The smiling faces of my parents have me stuck. I see everything in those smiles; their hopes and dreams for their lives and mine, the younger siblings I would've had, the memories we all would've made.
Tears hit the skin of my cheeks before I know it but I stop them before they touch the pages of the book. Wiping my eyes sneakily, I take the book from Warin's hands and close it.
"I think you should try it for yourself," I suggest with a weak grin.
His eyes widen. "W-W-What?" he stutters, "I don't - I can't – I have no powers."
I shake my head, a frown on my face, "Nonsense. You have them, you just don't know what they are just yet. You want to learn how to use them don't you?"
He sighs before nodding his head.
"Great," I reply, placing the book back in his hands, "Don't worry, I'm going to walk you through this. I've got you."
Our eyes connect as those three words leave my lips making them hang between us for a moment like a canopy. Breaking the eye contact I scoot over closer to him and grab his left hand – it's as rough as I imagined it would be and yet it has a soft quality to it that's almost soothing to the touch. He pulls me in with his gaze as electricity passes through our connected hands.
"P-Place," I stumble over the word like it tripped me, "this hand over the book – unless you're right handed then place that one over it. It's easier when you first start out to do magic with your dominant hand."
He slowly lowers his left hand to his side but doesn't drop mine, instead he turns it around so we're holding hands but not intertwining fingers. His right hand shoots up over the top of the book, hovering, waiting for his next instruction.
"Okay," I breathe, trying to steady my voice, "You need to focus your mind on what you want to see. Think -" I pause, thinking against it but decide to continue, "think about your parents."
He looks at me sharply for a moment before his features soften. It'll be hard but he needs the strength of the emotion tied to his parents to center his magic.
"Focus on a strong memory, one that makes you happy," I wait a few moments, "Do you have it?"
He nods his head in response.
I continue, "Okay now I want you to focus on that memory, let it blossom into thoughts of your parents, your family, and say 'Quaerere, Brown.'"
It takes him a moment before he speaks but when he does his voice is strong, steady, commanding enough that I'd think he was able to achieve the spell in one try. However, a lack of glowing light from the pages of the registry alert me of my mistake.
"Again," I command, my eyes on the books' pages.
He attempts the spell again and nothing happens.
"Again."
Another attempt.
"Again," I bark, not wanting to take my eyes off of the book in case I miss something.
Another fruitless attempt.
"Again."
He tries once more and this time I hear the break in his voice.
Looking up I see tears slipping from behind his closed eyes, his hovering hand is shaking and the one holding mine is gripping it so tightly I've lost feeling.
"Okay," I say softly, knowing how hard it must've been for him to tap into that emotion, into those memories. Taking the book from his lap, I ready myself to perform the incantation when a ray of light shines through the pages of the closed book.
He did it. The delay tells me that the spell wasn't overwhelmingly strong but it was strong enough to break through the barrier, and that's old magic.
"Warin, you did it!" I squeal, turning to him. His eyes are dry now and he's staring at the book in disbelief. I smile widely pulling him into a hug. I remember my first time doing magic successfully, I was in just as much shock as him and I knew one day I'd have the ability – it's an unreal feeling.
His hands are tight against my back even as I pull away as if he didn't want to separate. However, when I look up at him he shows no sign of regret on his face at all.
Opening the book, I watch the portraits and branches appear, crawling across the pages like insects. We pass hundreds of portraits before reaching Warin and his parents Jean Cory Nurse and Nicholas Francis Brown. It seems as if his strongest ties to magic are through his mother whose distant relative was Rebecca Nurse; a woman accused of and executed for witchcraft during the Salem witch trials. Her family tree is long and full of twists and turns this way and that, what seems like a million different branches and twigs stretching the span of the books' pages. His father's lineage, on the other hand, is pretty sparse. It goes as far back as the Salem trials to Martha Cory but as the years continue, it seems as if generations are skipped before the branches appear again. It becomes completely clear who Warin got his familiar 'gene' from.
I quickly explain to him he's more like his father than he may have ever thought but upon telling him I hear his breathing start to tremble a bit. Grabbing the bowl from the coffee table I use it as an excuse to leave him to get himself together. I know how hard this is for him, I had many of the same realizations looking into the registry after my parents passed away. Seeing the little symbols beneath my ancestor's names, listing their powers, knowing exactly how much of each of my fallen relatives – distant and otherwise – was inside of me was surreal. Each time I checked the book I had more symbols, however, it wasn't until I saw the infinity symbol beneath my name, that I felt rocked. To know I have a piece of each of them inside of me set such an impossible weight on my shoulders I felt I'd collapse from the pressure.
After a few moments I walk back over to Warin with two mugs of tea.
He thanks me for his mug then pointing to the symbols beneath his name he asks, "What are these?"
The letters F, P, T, TP, and what looks to be half of an infinity symbol rest beneath his name. The set up looks similar to the way mine did before the infinity symbol took the place of the other symbols as if the writer of the book grew tired of filling in every new ability I discovered.
"The F is for Familiar of course," I explain, "It's always first because no matter what else you are that is your birth rite. The P is for Pyro, so you can create and bend fire to your will, the T is for telekinesis so you can move things with your mind, and the TP is for Teleportation."
His jaw is to the floor but he picks it up in time to point to the half infinity sign and ask, "And that? What's that mean?"
I must admit I'm stumped by the infinity symbol, even if it is only half. It's my understanding that only witches with full magical lineages on both sides can retain that 'eligibility', for lack of a better term.
"It's half of an infinity sign. As your powers progress you may discover other abilities and they'll either be added on or the infinity will fill all the way in and take their place," I say but on seeing his face I'm quick to clarify that the infinity sign being there doesn't mean he has infinite power all it means is that he has the capacity to wield the powers of his ancestors but it would take more than his lifetime to discover and master them all.
He still looks excited and something about the look in his eye makes me nervous. "So what does it look like for you?" he asks, peering into my eyes.
I take a long sip of tea, using the mug to block the eye contact. "Here," I beckon for the book with my hands, "I'll show you."
Closing it, I recite the spell in my head and open the book to the last page where my portrait sits.
"Whoa," Warin marvels, "You didn't even say the spell."
I grin at his cuteness. "My saying the spell aloud was more for your benefit than mine. Once you get the hang of it you'll be able to recite incantations in your head as well. Anyway," I drawl, pointing underneath my photo, "this is what mine loo-" The rest of my sentence gets caught in my throat the second my eyes focus on the symbol beneath my photo.
There, in place of my big bold infinity symbol, sits the mirrored half of the symbol that rested beneath Warin's portrait.
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*~**~**~**~**
What's up my good people!!!!
I hope yall enjoyed the chapter! Sorry the updates are taking a while, I'm very busy with school this semester and literally will have/have had a paper due every week for half of my classes. Also, I'm building this story, the lore, this whole 'universe' from scratch and as I write the chapters so it's taking me some time to form the ideas perfectly so the book as a whole makes total sense. I hope you guys can appreciate the effort behind the chapters, I only want the best for yall!
As always, the chapter is unedited so please forgive any mistakes!!
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Is the first chapter I've felt awesome about. It's a little longer than the other chapters I think which I'm happy about, and I'm loving the way things are coming together so far. I'm pretty excited about some of the ideas I have coming up for this story. I wanted to give yall a little bit of smut mixed with a little bit of backstory/lore. This was my first time writing a masturbation scene so if you're feeling brave give the kid some feedback lol
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Until Next Time,
WBN