Chapter Forty Four
After Diana left, I sat in the kitchen for a long time, thinking about things while I drank.
My head felt pleasantly fuzzy, but I wanted it to feel fuzzier so I opened the next can of beer and started chugging it down. It did nothing for my thirst, of course, but it dulled the feeling of my body becoming too sensitive just enough for me to not writhe like a worm.
I looked around, staring at the kitchen, reminiscing over the weeks that had passed.
I'd been here for a long time.
We'd left Michigan near the end of July, and it was currently the middle of August. The weather outside was changing, little by little, the trees were losing their green and the air was getting a little colder with each passing day. It would start snowing again before I knew it.
I set my chin on my hand, staring at the wall as I daydreamed about the first snowfall of the year.
Believe it or not, I loved the wintertime.
I hated being cold, but I loved snow since it painted even the ugliest material things in a beautiful, sparkling white blanket and sheltered them indiscriminately.
A chill suddenly prickled the back of my neck and I shivered, muscles jerking, but I didn't break out of my thoughts until I heard a soft intake of breath. I blinked, snapped out of my reverie, and turned to see Sebastian staring at me with half-lidded eyes and a raised eyebrow.
"Why are you still here? And why are you dressed like that?" he asked, voice carrying despite its low pitch. The t-shirt he wore in made his muscled arms stand out and seemed to make the bulk of his shoulders and chest even bulkier, if that were possible; his curly hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a simple pair of black jeans that hugged his hips comfortably.
His eyes were dimmer than I remembered them being.
"Tiffany was sad that I was leaving, so I agreed to stay one more night," I said once I found my voice, watching as he stopped right next to me and leaned on the table. "She gave me the makeover she's been craving, and we watched movies together in her room."
His mouth curled as he said, "seems like she enjoys your company more than I thought she would. Although, I can't say I'm surprised... out of everyone here, she's the most naive."
I didn't know how to respond to that so I didn't.
Instead, I took another drink of my beer, then looked at the can with a small frown.
"Want one?" I asked, twisting to look at him; his face changed, then, darkening a little.
"How many have you had?"
"A lot. I'm trying to get wasted."
"Why?" he growled, eyes flaring brighter for a second. "Explain yourself."
"I'm sad and confused," I said simply. "What other reason do I need?"
He instantly looked away, and when he did his eyes glinted in the dark.
"I'll drink one," he said.
I cracked open another can and handed it to him, which he took; he tossed it back, Adam's apple bobbing, before he stared off at the wall behind me.
"I thought you would have been long gone by now."
"I'm not that callous," I muttered, stomach churning a bit. "I don't know what it is that I really want, okay? I only know that if you... want to be with me, you have to... let me want that for myself, first. I don't know how we ended up here, or why you're interested, nothing."
"And I know next to nothing of you, it would seem," he quietly countered, "but I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me, too, so we can start building up to a place where you'll feel comfortable around me. I do not, that is to say, know where to begin doing so."
Yeah, that I understood since we both seemed to be suffering from that ugly little problem.
I thought about it, wondering how to respond, but it hit me that it might not be so complicated.
If we were going to start anywhere, the basics would be a good place.
"How about finding some common ground?" I proffered, giving him a tentative look. "I like to read, and write, and make music, and sing, and dance, and I adore playing video games... what is it that you enjoy doing, Sebastian? What do you do in your spare time?"
He took another drink, not looking at me.
His bronze skin was a sharp contrast to my own, I noticed.
"I enjoy the outdoors," he said after a long, pregnant pause. "The woods, the mountains, the city, the ocean, it doesn't matter where I go, I have always been drawn to the wide open world. I like exploring new places, like it so much that when I ran out of places to visit I grew restless and instead started developing video games so I could create and explore entirely new worlds."
A shock went through me but I hid it fairly well.
"That's why you became a video game developer?" I asked, blinking,
"It is," he said simply, closing his eyes. "Weeks ago, after I bought you that television to replace the one I shattered, I was tempted to buy a game console and purchase the MMVO you were playing since it was a world that I had no hand in creating. It looked interesting."
"Atlas Chronicles?" I asked, blinking; then an idea popped into my head, and for the first time in my life I actually felt like a genius. "You know what? That doesn't sound like a bad idea."
"What?" he grunted, opening one eye and peering at me with furrowed brows.
"You heard me," I told him, thoughtfully mulling it over. "You should buy yourself a PSXL7, a gaming microphone, and a copy of AC so we can play together. It would be a good opportunity to get to know each other for real, and stay in touch, without getting too intimate. Plus, gaming with you would likely allow me to start trusting you, and enjoy hanging out with you, for real."
"Are you serious?" he asked, mouth quirking skeptically. "Or are you joking?"
"I'm serious," I said indignantly, fuzzy face growing hot. "You should totally buy a game console! You can even be a vampire or a werewolf on Atlas Chronicles, and the character customization is incredibly diverse! You could seriously recreate yourself if you wanted to! I mean, I literally made my character look exactly like me, after all - you saw that with your own two eyes."
"I did," he said slowly, thoughtfully, and to my surprise he seemed to be considering it. "What is the world itself like? How do vampires and werewolves view each other? And how do the players view such races?"
"Oh, that?" I asked, frowning. "Vampires and werewolves on Atlas Chronicles are supposed to be mortal enemies and they usually butcher each other on sight. Same goes for the other races when it comes to vampires and werewolves. Everyone hates us since we're overpowered and have no ties to any sort of faction, even our own, which means that we're dangerous. Also, other players can be pretty racist sometimes."
"Seems fairly realistic," Sebastian said, and something in his tone made me freeze; I glanced at him to see a dark, calculating look on his face, but after a second he relaxed and finally turned to look down at me. Those eyes flitted across my face, unreadable but calm. "Fine. I'll order a system and everything I need to start gaming with you tonight."
"You will?" I asked, shocked. "You're really going to buy a system?"
"Yes," he grunted, shaking his head. "By the time you leave with Woodrow tomorrow night, I'll be setting it up. I've already gotten your new phone situated on my calling plan, so you're free to use it however you wish. My number, Tiffany's number, and Leo's number are in your contacts."
"Oh... uh, thanks."
"Don't thank me," he grunted, rolling his eyes; then he looked at me intensely, the air around his body growing heavier. My heart skipped a beat when he slowly pulled a chair out from the table and turned it so it was facing me before sitting down. I swallowed past the acrid dryness in my throat when he lifted a finger and wiggled the universal gesture for 'come here' at me.
I don't know why I did so.
It was almost instinctive, the way I pushed myself upright and walked over to him, but he grasped my wrist and pulled me forward, forcing me to clumsily straddle his lap before I could so much as ask what he wanted from me. His hands came to rest on my hips, and I suddenly found my face only a few inches from his own.
His heat washed across me in waves, but I couldn't look away from his eyes.
Not even to blink.
"You need blood," he said lowly, staring at me a little harshly. "Why won't you ask me?"
I jerked, staring at him askance, before I frowned at him.
"How can I ask for something like that?" I scoffed. "You expect me to just waltz up to you and say 'hey, can you please bleed for me so I can have something to drink?' Um, no thanks, that just feels wrong... asking in general feels wrong."
"Fine, then," he growled, glaring daggers; with little fanfare, he tilted his head. "Bite me."
My heart palpitated and I stared at the caramel skin of his neck, then glanced at his eyes.
They were steel incarnate. He was serious.
Not listening to him would piss him off without a doubt.
I resolved to be obscenely careful and leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips against the heat of his neck. He tensed against my mouth, I could feel it when he did, and I swallowed before muttering, "don't tense. It hurts less when you're relaxed."
"Don't tell me what to do," he said in a voice so quiet I barely heard it. "Just get it over with."
I mentally shrugged and opened my mouth, dragging my sharp teeth along his flesh for a moment; I tightened my grip around his body and went for it, biting down and puncturing his flesh. His muscles jumped but for the most part he didn't move.
Hot blood filled my mouth as I sank into him, right up to my gums.
I swallowed it down, relishing in the liquid silver that electrified my throat and quenched the burning feeling that had lit my body up. I was careful to avoid moving so I wouldn't hurt him, but for whatever reason, with every pull and swallow, he seemed to relax just a little bit more.
An arm came around my back and I felt his hand rubbing, patting.
"I don't know what else to give you," he suddenly muttered, and I paused mid-swallow. "I don't know how this is supposed to work, or what I must do for you to start trusting me. I... made... a mistake, hurting you the way I did. I regret my actions. My behavior put a huge wall between us."
I would have pulled my teeth out of him, but his hand slid up to the back of my head and held it there, fingers sliding into my hair and fisting in it. I shivered at the heat that went through my scalp, at the tingling of my nerves, wondering what was really happening.
"Like you, I was... only with one person," he continued, slowly, gravelly, carefully. "One man for all the years I've been alive... and as I said, things started off... sexual. When things changed between Jasper and myself... it was because he kissed me, and it quickly turned into something more. Our relationship began because we had sex, so... this is different for me. I am unsure of how to pursue you, because the way I want to does not seem to... work in this situation, or with you, and that is why... I don't know... what else to give you."
My heart actually softened a little in empathic dismay.
I guess I could understand why he wouldn't know what to do if that was truly the case. Like me, he'd only loved once, and he was obviously confused as fuck about this... from the sound of it, just as much as I was. I swallowed one more mouthful of his blood, then pulled my teeth out.
I took a deep breath through my nose.
"Trust," I said simply, and his eyes snapped to mine. "Give me time, space, and trust. I don't know what you see in me, or how you went from hating me to the point of physical altercation to wanting me like this, but... get to know me and become my friend, Sebastian."
He stared at me flatly. "You are not... putting me in the friend zone."
"I am," I honestly shot back, but when he began to scowl, I raised my hand and set it against his cheek, which felt weird since he had whiskers growing in. "The thing is, with me, romance only happens if you're in the friend zone first. So, from tomorrow night onward, let's start over."
He stared at me for a very long time without a single change in his expression.
I couldn't read him, there was only sheer, unblinking eye contact and I lost myself in that stare.
"Deal," he finally said, eyes sliding half-closed; I blinked when I realized his gaze was wandering down from my face, skimming across my figure, and I also noticed, abruptly, that there was a protrusion of some sort poking... against my...
Oh, my God.
My face flamed and I went rigid, but he merely looked at me languidly, relaxed and unashamed.
Hello? 911? I mentally wailed, mortified. There's a snake stuck in someone's jeans!
"Enjoying yourself, are you?" I awkwardly hissed, but to my shock he simply smirked.
"I am," he purred, gyrating his rigid groin against mine, which made me jump. "I will wait until you're willing, make no mistake, but I don't see a point in hiding my intentions, especially when you're sitting on my lap, legs spread... I may be patient, but I'm not a saint."
As if to make a point, he roughly gyrated again and I flinched, thinking of my grandmother's dentures to cool my heating skin. I swallowed hard, taking a deep breath to clear my head.
"Tempting though that thought may be," I said a little breathlessly, swallowing hard, "I'm looking for more than a simple romp in the sheets, so put the happy banana back to bed and stop stabbing me with it, please and thank you. We're kind of having a moment here."
He snorted, rolling his eyes, hands sliding down to my waist and resting there, but he didn't say anything for a long time and that infernal bulge didn't disappear in the slightest. I jumped when he finally snatched his beer and downed the entire can before setting it back down.
He looked at me with a blank, stony face after that and patted my left thigh.
"Fine," he roughly said. "If it is a moment you want, we'll have many tonight. Let us just... talk."
"And drink," I proffered, sighing a little in relief. "I still want to get hammered."
"You're already drunk," he snorted. "Another reason why I'm amazed you turned me down."
A chill shot through me and I stared at him more intently as a warning bell went off.
"You knew I was drunk?" I asked, confused. "Why were you acting so perverted then?"
"As I said, I'm no saint," he snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Then again, you're not stupid, even when you're plastered. I would have been surprised and disappointed if you'd actually been responsive to my provocative behavior, especially after what happened last time."
I scowled and muttered, "not cool."
"You need time more than I do," he said. "I think we can agree that I'm far more impatient."
So saying, he gyrated a third time and I flinched, shaking my head.
After my cheeks cooled off, I sighed, since he did have a point.
"Then let's drink," I said, shrugging. "Get hammered, talk, do whatever until daybreak."
And so, we did.
🌺👑💛👑🌺
A few hours and eleven beers later, I found myself face down on the floor and giggling. My twelfth beer felt cold against my palm; I threw back the last dregs of it with another fit of laughter.
"This is so boring," I said, remarking on the brew's lack of taste. "It's got no flavor!"
Sebastian, sitting on the kitchen floor against the wall, made a small noise of grumpy amusement. "You said that already."
"Did I?"
"Five times."
"Oooooh." I rolled onto my back. The table was between Sebastian and I, but I did my best to sit up so I could see the werewolf underneath it with my spinning eyes. "I'm pretty drunk, maybe."
Amber eyes glittered with suppressed humor. "I can see that."
"Soooo please don't tell anyone."
He smirked. "I won't."
"Especially Sebastian."
That made him pause, staring at me, and I giggled at his perplexed expression.
"Don't tell you that I'm drunk!" I told him, pointing at his face with my index finger, and then I clapped my hand over my mouth in horror. "Oh no!"
"Why don't you want me to know?" he asked.
My self-consciousness melted away into drunken self-assurance. "Because I kissed you and told you that you were hot the last time I was drunk! And I even tried to seduce you!" I said, dropping my voice into an exaggerated whisper. "Isn't that embarrassing?"
"It embarrasses you to admit you think I'm hot?" he said, and even the drunk me caught the hint that I had insulted him.
"No!" I said, shaking my head so hard I thought my ears would burst. My braided hair swung like ropes of gold as I banged my beer bottle on the floor a few times to punctuate my point. "Guys like me don't like when guys like you that they like like hot!"
Sebastian's eyes bore no expression, but their sheer wideness made him seem interested in whatever it was I was saying and I took that as encouragement. "That made no sense."
Indignantly, I protested: "It did! It did! I make sense so!" I paused, trying to summon up the will to speak properly, and then I used all of my power to enunciate the phrase, "Guys like me don't like guys like you to know that they think they're hot!"
Sebastian didn't understand this. "Why not?"
My mouth worked, and through my inebriated fog I managed, "because, because what if the hot guy thinks the other guys isn't cute?" I flopped back onto the floor, making Sebastian disappear from view. "So embarrassing!" I moaned, hands covering my face, and then I groped on the tabletop for another can of beer. I found it, held it to my lips, and discovered it to be empty.
"More beer!" I exclaimed, raising the can above my head; I was sure that all he could see was the can and my hand sticking up from the edge of the table, which probably looked like something out of a comic strip.
"I think you've had enough," I heard him say.
"Nope!" I rolled onto my hands and knees and staggered to my feet. "To the bar!" I said, pointing with my free hand, and I couldn't take more than three steps before falling over.
Sebastian caught me, of course: I found myself draped over one of his outstretched arms like a folded towel, face pointed downward and legs kicking parallel to the floor.
"You're done," he said. "Time for bed."
I sighed and went limp over his arm. "If you say so, boss man," I mumbled, because the way his arm pressed into my diaphragm made it hard to speak.
"Can you walk?"
I twisted until my feet hit the floor, and then I made a halfhearted shuffle that couldn't support me very well.
"No," I said. My can slipped from my fingers and landed with a 'clack' on the tile floor, which shone faintly in the dimness of the room. "Aw... its empty. No splash?"
Sebastian scoffed, and the next thing I knew he had pulled me into his arms. I uttered a small scream of protest before he clapped a hand over my mouth. I flailed a little, but went limp when he didn't let go. I didn't see him twist the doorknob to get into the hall, but nevertheless we made it into the realm of old-fashioned wood, stone pillar decor, and pretty grey carpets.
I was lulled by the motion of his walk and my head lolled when he carried me up the stairs towards my room. Sebastian opened my door not long after and carried me to the huge bed, helping me pull the jean vest off before lying me down, and with a hint of tenderness I didn't know he possessed he tugged the comforter over me with one swift flick of his wrist.
I cuddled into the fluffy warmth with a contented noise made deep in my throat as hot fingers touched my forehead, but my eyes fluttered open when I felt a tug that pulled the ribbons fastening my braids free of my hair. He stood over me, studying my face.
His eyes shone like a feral animal's, twin rings of amber glowing in the dark, but for once I was not concerned with this. Actually, I thought the effect—normally such an unsettling one—was almost, in a weird way, beautiful.
"You've got the most weirdest eyes," I told him, already feeling sleepy now that I was comfortable and warm. Sebastian had his back to the room's wide window, and a faint blue glow shone shone through it like a weak fog-light. It highlighted his burly silhouette and made the air above him glow like embers aching to leap to life in my hands, and I realized that the rain had strengthened with the coming of dawn.
The shadows of racing drops quivered over everything, making it look like we were floating underwater. With a sigh I reached up to touch those eyes of his, swimming as they were in darkness and dreams, and then the hand on my brow vanished.
He caught my wrist and tugged it back down toward the bed.
"Aerin," he said, and his eyes gleamed, as if the title made them shine. "Sleep now."
"But..."
"Aerin."
All the command Sebastian could ever muster had been infused into the sound of my name, and I obediently closed my eyes.
"Good night," I murmured, and now that they were closed I realized just how sleepy I really was. Sebastian didn't say anything, although I wished he would. As I floated off to sleep, aware of the hand caressing my hair and the hiss of warm rain on the window pane, I suddenly remembered my mother singing me to sleep, smoothing my hair from my forehead as I slept.
Rain, rain, go away, she would always sing on stormy nights. All the world is waiting for the sun.
Mom, I thought, and even poised on the brink of an abyss I could feel the tears slipping from the corner of my eyes. I'm sure it blended with the reflection of rain racing across my skin.
"Mom," I murmured aloud, and then the nostalgic fingers soothed my cheek, smearing the tear away. The kind act put me at ease, and I drifted back to blackness. The last words I heard before falling away completely were so low I almost thought I imagined them.
I don't not think you're cute, said the voice, and the fingers brushed my lips.