[ALEKSANDRA]
“The blonde one,” she repeated slowly, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she used her free hand to push a mess of damp curls from her face. With the rain no longer pouring down and threatening to drown them its fury, she could finally make out the shape of his car – and the surrounding buildings. The windows were still closed, the curtains drawn tight. It was as if no one dared to risk Mother Nature’s wrath – no one was that insane, that reckless – except for them. “You’re observant.” The amusement was still there, even as her phone gave one final chime before the battery gave out.
“Well, new narrows it down. I’ll just look for anyone that I don’t recognize,” she hummed thoughtfully, “with blonde hair. You did happen to notice the gender, right?” She was openly teasing him now, her laughter genuine and warm as she allowed their fingers to untangle. If she were being honest – at least to herself – she hadn’t remembered she was even holding his hand. The connection was as natural as breathing had used to be for her. Once her hand was free, she used it to tug on her shirt, making sure the wet, thin material covered what it could so she didn’t flash the city as she slid into her seat.
At first, she was concerned of the mess she was making of his seats – but if he had thought about it at all, he wouldn’t have suggested they get inside. Tipping her head back against the rest, she closed her eyes for a second, allowing herself to get lost in the sound of the rain pelting against the roof. Though it had slowed, it was still steady enough to calm her, the steady music easing whatever tension was left in her muscles. Turning her gaze to his as he slammed his door closed, she couldn’t stop the eye-roll as the irritation cut through the quiet like a knife. “You seriously can’t blame me for asking, babe.”
Her tone was still light, even as she curled her fingers against her bared thighs. For a moment – a brief moment – she had forgotten how difficult he could be. How difficult –this- would be. It didn’t deter her, though. He was worth it – they were worth it. She wasn’t going into this blind. “You aren’t exactly forthcoming, and it’s not like you’re uncomplicated.” Chuckling, now, she reached across the seats to rest her hand on his knee, though the touch was brief before she started to pull away. “Kissing someone doesn’t always mean that they’re in a relationship, that they’re committed. You should know that. I think we are, I’d like for us to be, but I’m not going to assume that’s what you want.”
[BLAIZE]
Blaize would beg to differ, in so many ways. They sat still in the car, unmoving, as he registered and deconstructed Aleksandra's argument. Complicated? He was far from complicated -- at least in his own mind. He was focused on one thing, and if people didn't know what that one thing was then they were blind, or they didn't know him at all. Beyond that one thing, everything else paled in comparison and his care waned. It was only when his selfishness became somewhat less prominent that a person might get the hint that he gave the slightest **** about them, or about something other than ballet.
"Of course I know that," he said. If kissing someone meant he was commited, he'd have been in huge trouble. "You know that conversation we just had where I repeatedly told you that you weren't like other women and that I didn't want to toss you aside?" he asked, brows arched and stare intense, inquisitive. Waiting for the ball to drop, for Aleksandra to figure it out on her own. But continued anyway. "Do you think I've changed my mind and I chased you down in the storm because I decided that no, I do actually just want to **** you then leave the next night and pretend like nothing ever happened...?" he asked, then shook his head, sighed. The keys jangled in his grip as he finally started the car. Despite its age, it came to life smoothly, no sputtering. He secured the seatbelt over his chest.
"I've never been in a relationship and I've never been committed," he said, eyes now on the road. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, nor did he think it was strictly required. Actions spoke louder than words, and all Aleksandra had to do was wait. But then, Blaize wasn't exactly up to date with how one should be in a relationship, so perhaps she was right to ask. Maybe it never would have been clear. "But once I make a decision, it's final. You're not like other women. I don't want to toss you aside," he said with a shrug and a glance sideways. "I won't sleep with other women and you won't sleep with other men and beyond that it's a learning curve," he said. For him, anyway. It might not be something Aleksandra needed to learn.
“The blonde one,” she repeated slowly, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she used her free hand to push a mess of damp curls from her face. With the rain no longer pouring down and threatening to drown them its fury, she could finally make out the shape of his car – and the surrounding buildings. The windows were still closed, the curtains drawn tight. It was as if no one dared to risk Mother Nature’s wrath – no one was that insane, that reckless – except for them. “You’re observant.” The amusement was still there, even as her phone gave one final chime before the battery gave out.
“Well, new narrows it down. I’ll just look for anyone that I don’t recognize,” she hummed thoughtfully, “with blonde hair. You did happen to notice the gender, right?” She was openly teasing him now, her laughter genuine and warm as she allowed their fingers to untangle. If she were being honest – at least to herself – she hadn’t remembered she was even holding his hand. The connection was as natural as breathing had used to be for her. Once her hand was free, she used it to tug on her shirt, making sure the wet, thin material covered what it could so she didn’t flash the city as she slid into her seat.
At first, she was concerned of the mess she was making of his seats – but if he had thought about it at all, he wouldn’t have suggested they get inside. Tipping her head back against the rest, she closed her eyes for a second, allowing herself to get lost in the sound of the rain pelting against the roof. Though it had slowed, it was still steady enough to calm her, the steady music easing whatever tension was left in her muscles. Turning her gaze to his as he slammed his door closed, she couldn’t stop the eye-roll as the irritation cut through the quiet like a knife. “You seriously can’t blame me for asking, babe.”
Her tone was still light, even as she curled her fingers against her bared thighs. For a moment – a brief moment – she had forgotten how difficult he could be. How difficult –this- would be. It didn’t deter her, though. He was worth it – they were worth it. She wasn’t going into this blind. “You aren’t exactly forthcoming, and it’s not like you’re uncomplicated.” Chuckling, now, she reached across the seats to rest her hand on his knee, though the touch was brief before she started to pull away. “Kissing someone doesn’t always mean that they’re in a relationship, that they’re committed. You should know that. I think we are, I’d like for us to be, but I’m not going to assume that’s what you want.”
[BLAIZE]
Blaize would beg to differ, in so many ways. They sat still in the car, unmoving, as he registered and deconstructed Aleksandra's argument. Complicated? He was far from complicated -- at least in his own mind. He was focused on one thing, and if people didn't know what that one thing was then they were blind, or they didn't know him at all. Beyond that one thing, everything else paled in comparison and his care waned. It was only when his selfishness became somewhat less prominent that a person might get the hint that he gave the slightest **** about them, or about something other than ballet.
"Of course I know that," he said. If kissing someone meant he was commited, he'd have been in huge trouble. "You know that conversation we just had where I repeatedly told you that you weren't like other women and that I didn't want to toss you aside?" he asked, brows arched and stare intense, inquisitive. Waiting for the ball to drop, for Aleksandra to figure it out on her own. But continued anyway. "Do you think I've changed my mind and I chased you down in the storm because I decided that no, I do actually just want to **** you then leave the next night and pretend like nothing ever happened...?" he asked, then shook his head, sighed. The keys jangled in his grip as he finally started the car. Despite its age, it came to life smoothly, no sputtering. He secured the seatbelt over his chest.
"I've never been in a relationship and I've never been committed," he said, eyes now on the road. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, nor did he think it was strictly required. Actions spoke louder than words, and all Aleksandra had to do was wait. But then, Blaize wasn't exactly up to date with how one should be in a relationship, so perhaps she was right to ask. Maybe it never would have been clear. "But once I make a decision, it's final. You're not like other women. I don't want to toss you aside," he said with a shrug and a glance sideways. "I won't sleep with other women and you won't sleep with other men and beyond that it's a learning curve," he said. For him, anyway. It might not be something Aleksandra needed to learn.
[ALEKSANDRA]
“I didn’t want to make a big deal of this.” Tangling her fingers into her hair, she rested her skull against her palm as she stared out the window, sighing quietly. It had been a simple question, hadn’t it? The answer should have been just as simple. We’re together, Aleksandra. How complicated was that? Instead, his annoyance filled the small confines of the car, his stare burning against her skin. She fought to not look at him, to keep her eyes on the drops of rain that jaggedly trailed across the glass. It was difficult, knowing that he was staring at her, waiting for her to say something more – to say anything.
Silence grew between them, and in it, a thousand questions spun like leaves in a chaotic wind. All of them were on the tip of her tongue, each one begging to be voiced. She knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t be that type of woman, the one that wanted all of the answers, and the one that needed reassurance. She couldn’t be the clingy, obsessive type. Not only was it against her very nature – it was a sure way to send him tucking tail and running for the hills. Instead of posing the questions, she focused on what he had to say. She read between the lines, picked apart the subtle hints, and started to piece it together with the imaginary Blaize glossary she had filed away in her mind.
“You’re right,” she finally spoke, wondering if he was as stressed about the silence as she had been. “You did just scream at me that I’m not like all of the rest. I just didn’t want to assume what I was. I’ve always been of the mindset that there should be some type of label, but if it makes you uncomfortable to refer to me as you girlfriend, that’s fine. It won’t make me go crawl into the lap of the next guy I see,” she promised, her hands moving to rest in her lap as she returned her attention to the window.
[BLAIZE]
Blaize stared at the back of Aleksandra's head as she looked out the window. Although the tone didn't sound angry, the words implied some kind of... what? Annoyance? She'd said there should be a label but then said it was fine if there wasn't. He'd said nothing about screaming, but then he supposed he had. Not window-shattering, but he'd raised his voice when he wasn't prone to raise his voice, often. Allowing the confines of the car to sink back into silence for a few beats, he peeled away from the curb and started to slowly make his way out of the University grounds, navigating the narrow roads until it finally led out to the main road.
"It won't be a habit. I don't yell often. I'm sorry for yelling," he said eventually. And he wasn't apologising just because he thought that's what she was angry about. He wasn't even sure that's what she was angry about -- if she was angry at all. He was still confused. He pulled his bottom lip momentarily between his teeth, eyes narrowed on the road ahead.
"Labels aren't really... I mean it'd be like calling me a barrista when I have no idea how to make coffee...." he said, then shook his head. It didn't sound right. It sounded like he was trying to get out of it, the commitment. What did it matter? They were just words.
"But then two people promising to see only each other, in the carnal sense... isn't that just... what people do? Girlfriend and Boyfriend...?" he asked. Now he was just talking to fill the silence, wanting nothing more than to be parked and inside, to feel Aleksandra's hands on his skin rather than watching them clasped in her lap out of the corner of his eye. At least, then, he would be assured that everything was okay. Not even an hour into their newfound status and he felt like he was already slipping.
[ALEKSANDRA]
Once the car started moving, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For a moment, she had wondered if he’d tell her to get out, if this might have been too much for him. Now that they were on the road, the buildings blurring past her window, she could allow herself a moment to process what he had said. She had two options, it seemed. She could let this go and quit asking questions, or she could try to find clarification for the ‘in a carnal sense’ statement. For the moment, she did neither.
“Don’t apologize for yelling, babe. It’s going to happen,” she smiled, finally tearing her gaze from the window to fully focus on him. She had thought she could keep herself from watching him, from studying the way his eyes glinted or his jaw clenched, but she couldn’t. Even before tonight, she had felt herself drawn to him, had felt the need to watch his features. “I’m not bothered by it.” When he bit into his lip, she reached across the seats and brushed her thumb along his chin with a chuckle.
Knowing she couldn’t avoid the question he had asked, the words that he had spoken, she rested her head against the seat and shrugged again. She had to remind herself he’d never been a relationship before, that her questions – the ones that seemed so easy, so simple, were strange to him. Wetting her lower lip, she drew one leg up to her chest, the arch of her foot digging into the seat. The movement caused her shirt to slide down her thigh, and she quickly tried to adjust it, to no avail. “There’s more than sex to a relationship, love,” she laughed, shaking her head. “We don’t need to get into that, though. Like you said, it’s a learning curve. We’ll figure it out. You can call me whatever you want.”
[BLAIZE]
Every now and again, to pass time, Blaize would scroll through Facebook. He'd do this only if he was stuck in traffic or on a train -- if he was ever stuck somewhere and forced to wait, otherwise he barely looked at social media. Every so often, a video pops up -- some skit, whereby a man dresses up like a girl and pretends to be both himself and his girlfriend. Or, a girl pretends to be a guy's girlfriend. And they would parody all of the things that came with being in a relationship -- mostly it ended up looking like women tied men down and stole their freedom from them, perpetuating the idea that it was better to be a bachelor. This, he assumed, was what Aleksandra meant when she said there was more to a relationship than sex -- and Blaize just stared out the windscreen.
And then he grinned.
"Whatever I want?" he asked, glancing sideways. Of course his eyes were drawn to the knee, then down the length of Aleksandra's exposed thigh. "...you're my distraction, that's what you are," he said. He'd flicked on the indicator, turning left into Newborough, heading toward Swansdale and Veil Towers. It was there that he'd bought an apartment -- a home away from home when he hadn't been feeling himself, away from everyone else. Even now, when he was feeling fine, however, he found himself staying there more often than not.
"I'm taking us to my place. Fair warning -- it's not much," he said. The place was furnished, but he didn't have... stuff. There was a TV that was connected and couches to sit on. There was a bed and a shower. There was a kitchen with no utensils. There were closets with the bare minimum of clothes, empty bookshelves. It was close enough to the University and the studio that all he really needed it for was to sleep.
[ALEKSANDRA]
During high school, she had a friend that constantly had a boyfriend. It didn’t matter if she’d only just left someone – two hours later, she was in the lap of another man. It was her that she thought of now, with her confident smile and golden hair. She hadn’t been overly pretty – she remembered that much – but she had the personality of a celebrity. Someone that wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted. Aleksandra had never been that way. While she wasn’t shy, she also wasn’t consistently able to voice what was on her mind. Like now, when she really wanted to say ‘tell me I’m your girlfriend,’ she didn’t.
She remained quiet, even when he turned to her, sudden grin stealing her breath away. God, how did he continue to do that? It was just a few hours ago she was convincing herself she hadn’t fallen for him, and now, here she was, unable to pull her eyes away for another moment. Instead, she found her fingers uncurling from her lap, hand inching forward to rest on his thigh. That was another thing about the girl from high school – she couldn’t stop touching them, either. It had been her downfall in the end, but in that moment, Aleksandra didn’t care. Drumming her fingers in an uneven beat against his taut thigh, she finally forced herself to look away, focusing on the skyline.
“At least I’m the best distraction you’ll ever have,” she said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she slid down in the seat, lower lip between her teeth. “I guess that just means that I’ll have to keep my distance from you.” Even as she said it, she started to pull her hand away, pretending to start that ‘distance’ now. “I don’t care about material objects, remember? As long as it has a roof and a way to hide from the sun so I don’t turn to ash, I’m okay.” She didn’t add on the last thought – the one that was far too romantic, and felt far too loving – to be saying yet – ‘and you.’
[BLAIZE]
There were things he could imagine Aleksandra doing with that hand -- the one that now rested upon his thigh. Things he would not suggest, because he wasn't exactly sure what he could suggest so soon. And it didn't feel right yet, anyway. Not proper. He wanted to respect Aleksandra. He'd never felt the need to respect women before -- not beyond what should normally be expected.
"Mmm," he hummed. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he resisted the urge to reach out and grab the retreating hand. They'd be home soon. Home, and they could touch each other all they liked without fear of crashing the car. "That's right. No sex for you," he said, still grinning as he reached a stop side, peering left and right before easing across the intersection. Though, if he were to believe what people said, sex wasn't as high a priority for women as it was for men. And he wasn't going to go there if Aleksandra didn't go there first.
"You'll be with me. And I'd prefer not to turn into ash. So you can at least cross that one off your list," he said. The next left and they were turning into the no-through-road that led to the entrance of Veil Towers; Blaize took out his key to swipe the intercom at the garage gate; it slowly eased open, his car standing out like a sore thumb amongst all the riches down below.
[ALEKSANDRA]
“I think I could handle it,” she lied, though her smile didn’t reveal a thing, “the real question is – could you?” With an innocent hum, she playfully tugged her shirt higher up her thigh. In the back of her mind, she knew she was playing with fire – one that, if she pushed too far – she doubted could be doused. Realizing he wasn’t about to pull her hand back, she dropped it back into her lap so she could start twisting around her ring, fingertip absently tracing over the wide-eyed owl.
Straightening in the seat, then, she watched the buildings start to shift, mind piecing together their location. She barely paid attention to the city, if she were honest with herself. She was either baking, at school, or at the universities bar. She never ventured any further than that. “Is this where you live?” It was a stupid question, one she regretted when he slowed by the gate. “I guess so.” Laughing quietly to herself, she pulled her drying curls over her shoulder, and shook her head.
“So, I guess I only have to worry about every other night when I’m without you, then.” Her tone was light, and it was clear by the gleam in her eye she truly didn’t believe it. She wasn’t sure how he felt when she vanished to Australia, but she was certain he wouldn’t condone her dying. Not now, not after everything they had been through in the past handful of hours. It didn’t stop her from teasing him.
[BLAIZE]
"You underestimate my willpower," he said with a wink, before easing the car forward into the garage. A mere nod was given when she asked if this was where he lived. He could go a week -- more -- without feeding. He could resist blood, like he had tonight, without too much trouble. When he'd been human he'd put himself on a strict diet, which why his body was so taut, now, with little to no fat. Being a vampire did wonders at keeping him fit. And sex? He indulged maybe once every two months, if that. One long night of it before back to his regularly scheduled life. If this was going to turn into a long-term game... he was worried about how well he might do.
He hoped it wouldn't turn into a long-term game.
"And you haven't turned into ash yet, and we've barely seen each other in... months. I trust you'll do just fine on the nights you're without me," he said. He didn't want to bring it up. He didn't want to tell her that he trained. A lot. He went to the gym. He kept moving until his vampiric stamina ran out -- and he had a lot of it. And it was so ingrained into his personality, now, into his life, it was a habit he wasn't sure how to stop.
The car was parked in its designated spot, and Blaize was quick to get out. He stood on his side of the car as he waited for Aleksandra to get out, too. "Are we going to challenge each other to keep our hands to ourselves until we get upstairs?"
[ALEKSANDRA]
As if a switch had been flipped, her expression darkened at the mention of her time away. It wasn’t because of the memories it brought, or the reminder of Brandon. It was because of the context of their current conversation – the secret that she had been harboring since she returned. Gritting her teeth, she curled her fingers into her palms, nails biting into the sensitive skin before she managed to calm herself. The emotional imbalance had only lasted a millisecond, and then she was smiling again, fingers relaxing against her thighs. Now wasn’t the time to mention the illness that had wrecked havoc on her body.
It definitely wasn’t the time to mention that she /had/ nearly burned to death.
Instead, she pressed her hair from her eyes and uncurled her legs, bare feet touching the floor with a hum. “I think you underestimate my appeal,” she teased, fingers pushing her door open, even as his slammed shut behind him. Raising a brow over the hood, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess we are, since you’re standing over there. I don’t think you’ll be able to last.” Stepping around the hood, she smoothed down the front of her shirt and glanced around, searching for the elevator.
[BLAIZE]
"Oh no. You're disgusting. You've no appeal at all," he said. He'd missed the millisecond of emotional imbalance; he'd been too focused on parking, on making sure he didn't hit any of the other cars parked in the garage. On getting out, so that they could get upstairs. They'd be an amusing pair to witness; she in her basically-see-through shirt, clinging to her skin, and he in his basically-see-through tights, covered in mud. But it was late. Humans would be sleeping. Vampires probably out and about.
He was, of course, teasing. The way the shirt clung to her body -- well, he was almost jealous of the very fabric, the way it was allowed to hold her so tight, so gentle. He followed Aleksandra's movements; he followed her, swinging in close -- so close they almost touched, his hand hovering over the small of her back, his breath so briefly upon her jaw before he slipped past her, leading the way to the elevator.
The keys flipped and jangled in his grip; the elevator was already at their floor, so when he pushed the button the doors automatically opened. He pressed the button for level six, moving into the back corner of the carriage, pressing himself into said corner, his fingers curled around the handrails. There was a smug, mischievous smile resting upon his lips, his eyes gleaming the same way Aleksa's had previously. A smile so rare -- and yet it still seemed so natural.
[ALEKSANDRA]
Tensing when he approached her, she curled her fingers against her side, eyes darkening for a moment – this time, for a different reason – before she shook her head. “Oh, I know. I’m just hideous.” Tilting her head to peer up at him, she allowed a slow, sinful smile to grace her lips before it softened. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to appreciate my ugliness,” she sighed, head dropping as if she were ashamed of the grotesqueness of her features. Of course, she wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t serious.
He ruined any appearance of finding her unattractive the second he raked his gaze hungrily over her body. Finding herself shivering beneath the stare, she forced herself to move, to step into the elevator after him. Once inside, she watched the way he clutched the edge, his body fitting so easily into the corner. It was then, she realized her choices. She could stay against the door, out of reach – or she could taunt him as he had her. Stepping closer, she made sure there was hardly a breath of space between them, fingers grasping the edge of the rail – beside his. “What floor are you on?”
She could have looked at the buttons that lit up across the way, but instead, she chose to focus on him. She had to think fast – truth be told, she wasn’t one to actually play these games. It was almost easy with him, though, and she soon found herself bending down, shirt riding high up her body. She didn’t just bend without a valid reason – no, she just made one up. There, on the floor, was a stray leaf. One that had probably untangled itself from her hair and fallen when she flipped the curls over her shoulder.
[BLAIZE]
Teasing, indeed. As much as she threatened to go find someone else to appreciate her, she still followed Blaize into that elevator. Followed, and then some. He stayed absolutely still, though looking very much relaxed, head tilted to the side as he fully and unabashedly appreciated the view that Aleksandra offered to him. The last time that he had seen her there had been no hint of attraction between them; or, if there was, he had been oblivious. They were sire and childe, nothing more and nothing less. But she'd never felt like a sister, and though she was a friend it was never the life-long kind. This was not awkward, this sudden appreciation. Perhaps it was always there, and Blaize had just been blinded by his own ambition. Or unable to follow through due to his own moral code.
"...six," he said, eventually. By the time he'd replied to the question they were already on level four. And even while the elevator slowed at the sixth floor, doors preparing to open, he still kept his hands to himself. The keys tangled in mid-air. Smears of mud were left on the wall of the elevator where he had so brazenly leaned. He didn't care. Someone was paid to clean it -- it would give them something to do. And couldn't have been the worst thing they'd ever had to clean up.
The doors finally opened and Blaize pushed away from the railings. There was only one more hall to traverse and they would be inside. And that was the boundary of this game. Get inside, and then all bets were off. He didn't tease Aleksandra any more; he said nothing else as he led her to his humble -- and minimal -- abode. The key slipped easily into the lock and the door opened on to dull blacks and bright whites, barely any colour to be seen aside from a pair of orange sneakers that were stacked neatly by the front door. He waited until Aleksandra was inside before he closed the door and locked it again, tossing the keys into a bowl on the counter. They were the only things in the bowl.
He held his arms open, as if to say 'this is it'. His eyes gleamed, smoldered even. As if daring Aleksandra to make the first move.
[ALEKSANDRA]
When she didn’t feel his hands on her skin, she shook her head and straightened, fingers quietly spinning the leaf around as her gaze lifted to the numbers. “Six,” she repeated slowly, amusement in the long, drawn out word. It had taken him long enough to respond – which meant that, while he didn’t cave, he hadn’t necessarily hated the view. Pressing back against the wall, she watched the numbers climb higher, fingers itching to reach out and curl around his – but they didn’t.
Looking for a way to distract herself so he wouldn’t notice her body gravitating towards his, she began to braid the damp curls that hung over her shoulder, fingers moving at a leisurely pace. By the time the door began to creak as it opened, her hair was hanging over her shoulder, the braid thick. Following his motions – his far more graceful than her own – she stepped from the elevator and casually slipped her hands behind her back, fingers curling around one of her own slender wrists. He would surely catch the motion, see the strain on her face, even as she smiled a simple, pleased smile.
For a moment, she watched his back, studied the muscles for sign of strain. Was this affecting him at all? Was he not wanting to grab her, dig his fingers into her arms and kiss her senseless? Like so many other things, it was hard to tell with him. For all she knew, he could have forgotten she was there, trailing behind him with a hungry glint in her eye. As they neared the door, she swallowed, her wrist burning from the force of her hold. Stepping inside, she ran her tongue over her lower lip, nails biting into her skin as she surveyed the apartment slowly. She hoped she looked as unbothered as he did.
“Nice place. It fits you,” she managed, gaze finally landing on him, and god, she wished she hadn’t. His eyes seemed to burn right through her, and though she felt herself drawn to him, pulled like a puppet on a string, she didn’t move. Damn, she wanted to, though. It was in every fiber of her being to close the distance and crash her lips to his – but she remained still, fingers digging deeper into her wrist.
[BLAIZE]
It fits you, she said, and the statement had Blaize peering in at his apartment, assessing it like he'd never seen it before, like he didn't live there. When the fire was burning in the fireplace it was a little more inviting, but there was no fire in the fireplace. Not yet. He arched a brow, taking one step closer to the still Aleksandra. "Cold and empty?" he asked. That's what it was. There was no warmth to the sharp edges of the place, and it was bereft of anything personal. Blaize was aware of how unwelcoming it was.
It was clear, however, that he had not taken offense. How could he? He knew he was cold and unwelcoming to most people; he knew that he appeared to be empty and unfeeling to those he rejected, and slighted. Those who knew him better would know different. Who were those people who knew him better? He could lose half his fingers and he still wouldn't be able to count the names on one hand. And he'd chosen to live that way on purpose.
He took another step closer, his own body mirroring Aleksandra's; his hands were clasped behind his back, and he was torn. Should he give in? Or tell her he needed to go shower? Suggest that she follow? Perhaps too forward, when he'd already vowed to go slow. A vow he was finding it hard to stick to. His hair was already starting to dry, though it was still damp as it again fell over his eyes. With a swift **** of his head, the hair was banished. He grinned.
"I'm thinking of letting the blonde grow out. Go back to brunette. What do you think?" he asked. Mundane. Simple. But he stood oh so close, his lips lingering a mere breath from Aleksandra's. He was hunching his shoulders. He didn't like hunching his shoulders. But he would do it for her.
[ALEKSANDRA]
It was when he began to move closer to her that she knew she wasn’t going to win. Her self-restraint had reached its limit, her wrist burning from the crescent shaped wounds she had dug into the flesh. How he could move with the grace of a predator, smile with such ease, she would never know. Maybe it was her. Maybe he wasn’t as into her as she had originally thought. It wouldn’t be the first time that she had been told she was lacking. She was too short, too soft, eyes too wide. There was always something.
Or, maybe, detachment was his niche.
“Yes,” she whispered, the tip of her tongue peeking out between plump lips for a brief moment. “It’s cold and empty, but with a hint of… promise.” If this had been a discussion when she was in her right mind, where her emotions weren’t burning, she would have said something with more meaning. It would have made more sense, but in that moment, with him leaning closer, she couldn’t think. Slowly, she began to release the hold on her wrist, each finger peeling from her skin slowly. There was a second when her middle finger released the pressure it had on her wrist, she feared it was cracked.
It was as though her body was no longer hers to control. When she had finally freed her wrist, her arm swaying loose to her side, he graced her with that grin. That rare curve of his lips that lit his face paired with the slow burn in his eyes, and she was a goner. There was no fighting it. That smile was becoming her poison, and she was becoming addicted. “Darker?” The one word was all she could manage, and as he leaned down – and hunched he was, as she stood at 5’4 – her fingers found their way into his hair. That first connection was all it took, and the sparks burned through her veins like lightning.
“I think you’ll still be hot as hell,” she said, a low purr to her voice as she tipped her head back – not kissing him, not yet. No, she’d already made the first move, nails scraping over his scalp.
“I didn’t want to make a big deal of this.” Tangling her fingers into her hair, she rested her skull against her palm as she stared out the window, sighing quietly. It had been a simple question, hadn’t it? The answer should have been just as simple. We’re together, Aleksandra. How complicated was that? Instead, his annoyance filled the small confines of the car, his stare burning against her skin. She fought to not look at him, to keep her eyes on the drops of rain that jaggedly trailed across the glass. It was difficult, knowing that he was staring at her, waiting for her to say something more – to say anything.
Silence grew between them, and in it, a thousand questions spun like leaves in a chaotic wind. All of them were on the tip of her tongue, each one begging to be voiced. She knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t be that type of woman, the one that wanted all of the answers, and the one that needed reassurance. She couldn’t be the clingy, obsessive type. Not only was it against her very nature – it was a sure way to send him tucking tail and running for the hills. Instead of posing the questions, she focused on what he had to say. She read between the lines, picked apart the subtle hints, and started to piece it together with the imaginary Blaize glossary she had filed away in her mind.
“You’re right,” she finally spoke, wondering if he was as stressed about the silence as she had been. “You did just scream at me that I’m not like all of the rest. I just didn’t want to assume what I was. I’ve always been of the mindset that there should be some type of label, but if it makes you uncomfortable to refer to me as you girlfriend, that’s fine. It won’t make me go crawl into the lap of the next guy I see,” she promised, her hands moving to rest in her lap as she returned her attention to the window.
[BLAIZE]
Blaize stared at the back of Aleksandra's head as she looked out the window. Although the tone didn't sound angry, the words implied some kind of... what? Annoyance? She'd said there should be a label but then said it was fine if there wasn't. He'd said nothing about screaming, but then he supposed he had. Not window-shattering, but he'd raised his voice when he wasn't prone to raise his voice, often. Allowing the confines of the car to sink back into silence for a few beats, he peeled away from the curb and started to slowly make his way out of the University grounds, navigating the narrow roads until it finally led out to the main road.
"It won't be a habit. I don't yell often. I'm sorry for yelling," he said eventually. And he wasn't apologising just because he thought that's what she was angry about. He wasn't even sure that's what she was angry about -- if she was angry at all. He was still confused. He pulled his bottom lip momentarily between his teeth, eyes narrowed on the road ahead.
"Labels aren't really... I mean it'd be like calling me a barrista when I have no idea how to make coffee...." he said, then shook his head. It didn't sound right. It sounded like he was trying to get out of it, the commitment. What did it matter? They were just words.
"But then two people promising to see only each other, in the carnal sense... isn't that just... what people do? Girlfriend and Boyfriend...?" he asked. Now he was just talking to fill the silence, wanting nothing more than to be parked and inside, to feel Aleksandra's hands on his skin rather than watching them clasped in her lap out of the corner of his eye. At least, then, he would be assured that everything was okay. Not even an hour into their newfound status and he felt like he was already slipping.
[ALEKSANDRA]
Once the car started moving, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For a moment, she had wondered if he’d tell her to get out, if this might have been too much for him. Now that they were on the road, the buildings blurring past her window, she could allow herself a moment to process what he had said. She had two options, it seemed. She could let this go and quit asking questions, or she could try to find clarification for the ‘in a carnal sense’ statement. For the moment, she did neither.
“Don’t apologize for yelling, babe. It’s going to happen,” she smiled, finally tearing her gaze from the window to fully focus on him. She had thought she could keep herself from watching him, from studying the way his eyes glinted or his jaw clenched, but she couldn’t. Even before tonight, she had felt herself drawn to him, had felt the need to watch his features. “I’m not bothered by it.” When he bit into his lip, she reached across the seats and brushed her thumb along his chin with a chuckle.
Knowing she couldn’t avoid the question he had asked, the words that he had spoken, she rested her head against the seat and shrugged again. She had to remind herself he’d never been a relationship before, that her questions – the ones that seemed so easy, so simple, were strange to him. Wetting her lower lip, she drew one leg up to her chest, the arch of her foot digging into the seat. The movement caused her shirt to slide down her thigh, and she quickly tried to adjust it, to no avail. “There’s more than sex to a relationship, love,” she laughed, shaking her head. “We don’t need to get into that, though. Like you said, it’s a learning curve. We’ll figure it out. You can call me whatever you want.”
[BLAIZE]
Every now and again, to pass time, Blaize would scroll through Facebook. He'd do this only if he was stuck in traffic or on a train -- if he was ever stuck somewhere and forced to wait, otherwise he barely looked at social media. Every so often, a video pops up -- some skit, whereby a man dresses up like a girl and pretends to be both himself and his girlfriend. Or, a girl pretends to be a guy's girlfriend. And they would parody all of the things that came with being in a relationship -- mostly it ended up looking like women tied men down and stole their freedom from them, perpetuating the idea that it was better to be a bachelor. This, he assumed, was what Aleksandra meant when she said there was more to a relationship than sex -- and Blaize just stared out the windscreen.
And then he grinned.
"Whatever I want?" he asked, glancing sideways. Of course his eyes were drawn to the knee, then down the length of Aleksandra's exposed thigh. "...you're my distraction, that's what you are," he said. He'd flicked on the indicator, turning left into Newborough, heading toward Swansdale and Veil Towers. It was there that he'd bought an apartment -- a home away from home when he hadn't been feeling himself, away from everyone else. Even now, when he was feeling fine, however, he found himself staying there more often than not.
"I'm taking us to my place. Fair warning -- it's not much," he said. The place was furnished, but he didn't have... stuff. There was a TV that was connected and couches to sit on. There was a bed and a shower. There was a kitchen with no utensils. There were closets with the bare minimum of clothes, empty bookshelves. It was close enough to the University and the studio that all he really needed it for was to sleep.
[ALEKSANDRA]
During high school, she had a friend that constantly had a boyfriend. It didn’t matter if she’d only just left someone – two hours later, she was in the lap of another man. It was her that she thought of now, with her confident smile and golden hair. She hadn’t been overly pretty – she remembered that much – but she had the personality of a celebrity. Someone that wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted. Aleksandra had never been that way. While she wasn’t shy, she also wasn’t consistently able to voice what was on her mind. Like now, when she really wanted to say ‘tell me I’m your girlfriend,’ she didn’t.
She remained quiet, even when he turned to her, sudden grin stealing her breath away. God, how did he continue to do that? It was just a few hours ago she was convincing herself she hadn’t fallen for him, and now, here she was, unable to pull her eyes away for another moment. Instead, she found her fingers uncurling from her lap, hand inching forward to rest on his thigh. That was another thing about the girl from high school – she couldn’t stop touching them, either. It had been her downfall in the end, but in that moment, Aleksandra didn’t care. Drumming her fingers in an uneven beat against his taut thigh, she finally forced herself to look away, focusing on the skyline.
“At least I’m the best distraction you’ll ever have,” she said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she slid down in the seat, lower lip between her teeth. “I guess that just means that I’ll have to keep my distance from you.” Even as she said it, she started to pull her hand away, pretending to start that ‘distance’ now. “I don’t care about material objects, remember? As long as it has a roof and a way to hide from the sun so I don’t turn to ash, I’m okay.” She didn’t add on the last thought – the one that was far too romantic, and felt far too loving – to be saying yet – ‘and you.’
[BLAIZE]
There were things he could imagine Aleksandra doing with that hand -- the one that now rested upon his thigh. Things he would not suggest, because he wasn't exactly sure what he could suggest so soon. And it didn't feel right yet, anyway. Not proper. He wanted to respect Aleksandra. He'd never felt the need to respect women before -- not beyond what should normally be expected.
"Mmm," he hummed. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he resisted the urge to reach out and grab the retreating hand. They'd be home soon. Home, and they could touch each other all they liked without fear of crashing the car. "That's right. No sex for you," he said, still grinning as he reached a stop side, peering left and right before easing across the intersection. Though, if he were to believe what people said, sex wasn't as high a priority for women as it was for men. And he wasn't going to go there if Aleksandra didn't go there first.
"You'll be with me. And I'd prefer not to turn into ash. So you can at least cross that one off your list," he said. The next left and they were turning into the no-through-road that led to the entrance of Veil Towers; Blaize took out his key to swipe the intercom at the garage gate; it slowly eased open, his car standing out like a sore thumb amongst all the riches down below.
[ALEKSANDRA]
“I think I could handle it,” she lied, though her smile didn’t reveal a thing, “the real question is – could you?” With an innocent hum, she playfully tugged her shirt higher up her thigh. In the back of her mind, she knew she was playing with fire – one that, if she pushed too far – she doubted could be doused. Realizing he wasn’t about to pull her hand back, she dropped it back into her lap so she could start twisting around her ring, fingertip absently tracing over the wide-eyed owl.
Straightening in the seat, then, she watched the buildings start to shift, mind piecing together their location. She barely paid attention to the city, if she were honest with herself. She was either baking, at school, or at the universities bar. She never ventured any further than that. “Is this where you live?” It was a stupid question, one she regretted when he slowed by the gate. “I guess so.” Laughing quietly to herself, she pulled her drying curls over her shoulder, and shook her head.
“So, I guess I only have to worry about every other night when I’m without you, then.” Her tone was light, and it was clear by the gleam in her eye she truly didn’t believe it. She wasn’t sure how he felt when she vanished to Australia, but she was certain he wouldn’t condone her dying. Not now, not after everything they had been through in the past handful of hours. It didn’t stop her from teasing him.
[BLAIZE]
"You underestimate my willpower," he said with a wink, before easing the car forward into the garage. A mere nod was given when she asked if this was where he lived. He could go a week -- more -- without feeding. He could resist blood, like he had tonight, without too much trouble. When he'd been human he'd put himself on a strict diet, which why his body was so taut, now, with little to no fat. Being a vampire did wonders at keeping him fit. And sex? He indulged maybe once every two months, if that. One long night of it before back to his regularly scheduled life. If this was going to turn into a long-term game... he was worried about how well he might do.
He hoped it wouldn't turn into a long-term game.
"And you haven't turned into ash yet, and we've barely seen each other in... months. I trust you'll do just fine on the nights you're without me," he said. He didn't want to bring it up. He didn't want to tell her that he trained. A lot. He went to the gym. He kept moving until his vampiric stamina ran out -- and he had a lot of it. And it was so ingrained into his personality, now, into his life, it was a habit he wasn't sure how to stop.
The car was parked in its designated spot, and Blaize was quick to get out. He stood on his side of the car as he waited for Aleksandra to get out, too. "Are we going to challenge each other to keep our hands to ourselves until we get upstairs?"
[ALEKSANDRA]
As if a switch had been flipped, her expression darkened at the mention of her time away. It wasn’t because of the memories it brought, or the reminder of Brandon. It was because of the context of their current conversation – the secret that she had been harboring since she returned. Gritting her teeth, she curled her fingers into her palms, nails biting into the sensitive skin before she managed to calm herself. The emotional imbalance had only lasted a millisecond, and then she was smiling again, fingers relaxing against her thighs. Now wasn’t the time to mention the illness that had wrecked havoc on her body.
It definitely wasn’t the time to mention that she /had/ nearly burned to death.
Instead, she pressed her hair from her eyes and uncurled her legs, bare feet touching the floor with a hum. “I think you underestimate my appeal,” she teased, fingers pushing her door open, even as his slammed shut behind him. Raising a brow over the hood, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess we are, since you’re standing over there. I don’t think you’ll be able to last.” Stepping around the hood, she smoothed down the front of her shirt and glanced around, searching for the elevator.
[BLAIZE]
"Oh no. You're disgusting. You've no appeal at all," he said. He'd missed the millisecond of emotional imbalance; he'd been too focused on parking, on making sure he didn't hit any of the other cars parked in the garage. On getting out, so that they could get upstairs. They'd be an amusing pair to witness; she in her basically-see-through shirt, clinging to her skin, and he in his basically-see-through tights, covered in mud. But it was late. Humans would be sleeping. Vampires probably out and about.
He was, of course, teasing. The way the shirt clung to her body -- well, he was almost jealous of the very fabric, the way it was allowed to hold her so tight, so gentle. He followed Aleksandra's movements; he followed her, swinging in close -- so close they almost touched, his hand hovering over the small of her back, his breath so briefly upon her jaw before he slipped past her, leading the way to the elevator.
The keys flipped and jangled in his grip; the elevator was already at their floor, so when he pushed the button the doors automatically opened. He pressed the button for level six, moving into the back corner of the carriage, pressing himself into said corner, his fingers curled around the handrails. There was a smug, mischievous smile resting upon his lips, his eyes gleaming the same way Aleksa's had previously. A smile so rare -- and yet it still seemed so natural.
[ALEKSANDRA]
Tensing when he approached her, she curled her fingers against her side, eyes darkening for a moment – this time, for a different reason – before she shook her head. “Oh, I know. I’m just hideous.” Tilting her head to peer up at him, she allowed a slow, sinful smile to grace her lips before it softened. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to appreciate my ugliness,” she sighed, head dropping as if she were ashamed of the grotesqueness of her features. Of course, she wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t serious.
He ruined any appearance of finding her unattractive the second he raked his gaze hungrily over her body. Finding herself shivering beneath the stare, she forced herself to move, to step into the elevator after him. Once inside, she watched the way he clutched the edge, his body fitting so easily into the corner. It was then, she realized her choices. She could stay against the door, out of reach – or she could taunt him as he had her. Stepping closer, she made sure there was hardly a breath of space between them, fingers grasping the edge of the rail – beside his. “What floor are you on?”
She could have looked at the buttons that lit up across the way, but instead, she chose to focus on him. She had to think fast – truth be told, she wasn’t one to actually play these games. It was almost easy with him, though, and she soon found herself bending down, shirt riding high up her body. She didn’t just bend without a valid reason – no, she just made one up. There, on the floor, was a stray leaf. One that had probably untangled itself from her hair and fallen when she flipped the curls over her shoulder.
[BLAIZE]
Teasing, indeed. As much as she threatened to go find someone else to appreciate her, she still followed Blaize into that elevator. Followed, and then some. He stayed absolutely still, though looking very much relaxed, head tilted to the side as he fully and unabashedly appreciated the view that Aleksandra offered to him. The last time that he had seen her there had been no hint of attraction between them; or, if there was, he had been oblivious. They were sire and childe, nothing more and nothing less. But she'd never felt like a sister, and though she was a friend it was never the life-long kind. This was not awkward, this sudden appreciation. Perhaps it was always there, and Blaize had just been blinded by his own ambition. Or unable to follow through due to his own moral code.
"...six," he said, eventually. By the time he'd replied to the question they were already on level four. And even while the elevator slowed at the sixth floor, doors preparing to open, he still kept his hands to himself. The keys tangled in mid-air. Smears of mud were left on the wall of the elevator where he had so brazenly leaned. He didn't care. Someone was paid to clean it -- it would give them something to do. And couldn't have been the worst thing they'd ever had to clean up.
The doors finally opened and Blaize pushed away from the railings. There was only one more hall to traverse and they would be inside. And that was the boundary of this game. Get inside, and then all bets were off. He didn't tease Aleksandra any more; he said nothing else as he led her to his humble -- and minimal -- abode. The key slipped easily into the lock and the door opened on to dull blacks and bright whites, barely any colour to be seen aside from a pair of orange sneakers that were stacked neatly by the front door. He waited until Aleksandra was inside before he closed the door and locked it again, tossing the keys into a bowl on the counter. They were the only things in the bowl.
He held his arms open, as if to say 'this is it'. His eyes gleamed, smoldered even. As if daring Aleksandra to make the first move.
[ALEKSANDRA]
When she didn’t feel his hands on her skin, she shook her head and straightened, fingers quietly spinning the leaf around as her gaze lifted to the numbers. “Six,” she repeated slowly, amusement in the long, drawn out word. It had taken him long enough to respond – which meant that, while he didn’t cave, he hadn’t necessarily hated the view. Pressing back against the wall, she watched the numbers climb higher, fingers itching to reach out and curl around his – but they didn’t.
Looking for a way to distract herself so he wouldn’t notice her body gravitating towards his, she began to braid the damp curls that hung over her shoulder, fingers moving at a leisurely pace. By the time the door began to creak as it opened, her hair was hanging over her shoulder, the braid thick. Following his motions – his far more graceful than her own – she stepped from the elevator and casually slipped her hands behind her back, fingers curling around one of her own slender wrists. He would surely catch the motion, see the strain on her face, even as she smiled a simple, pleased smile.
For a moment, she watched his back, studied the muscles for sign of strain. Was this affecting him at all? Was he not wanting to grab her, dig his fingers into her arms and kiss her senseless? Like so many other things, it was hard to tell with him. For all she knew, he could have forgotten she was there, trailing behind him with a hungry glint in her eye. As they neared the door, she swallowed, her wrist burning from the force of her hold. Stepping inside, she ran her tongue over her lower lip, nails biting into her skin as she surveyed the apartment slowly. She hoped she looked as unbothered as he did.
“Nice place. It fits you,” she managed, gaze finally landing on him, and god, she wished she hadn’t. His eyes seemed to burn right through her, and though she felt herself drawn to him, pulled like a puppet on a string, she didn’t move. Damn, she wanted to, though. It was in every fiber of her being to close the distance and crash her lips to his – but she remained still, fingers digging deeper into her wrist.
[BLAIZE]
It fits you, she said, and the statement had Blaize peering in at his apartment, assessing it like he'd never seen it before, like he didn't live there. When the fire was burning in the fireplace it was a little more inviting, but there was no fire in the fireplace. Not yet. He arched a brow, taking one step closer to the still Aleksandra. "Cold and empty?" he asked. That's what it was. There was no warmth to the sharp edges of the place, and it was bereft of anything personal. Blaize was aware of how unwelcoming it was.
It was clear, however, that he had not taken offense. How could he? He knew he was cold and unwelcoming to most people; he knew that he appeared to be empty and unfeeling to those he rejected, and slighted. Those who knew him better would know different. Who were those people who knew him better? He could lose half his fingers and he still wouldn't be able to count the names on one hand. And he'd chosen to live that way on purpose.
He took another step closer, his own body mirroring Aleksandra's; his hands were clasped behind his back, and he was torn. Should he give in? Or tell her he needed to go shower? Suggest that she follow? Perhaps too forward, when he'd already vowed to go slow. A vow he was finding it hard to stick to. His hair was already starting to dry, though it was still damp as it again fell over his eyes. With a swift **** of his head, the hair was banished. He grinned.
"I'm thinking of letting the blonde grow out. Go back to brunette. What do you think?" he asked. Mundane. Simple. But he stood oh so close, his lips lingering a mere breath from Aleksandra's. He was hunching his shoulders. He didn't like hunching his shoulders. But he would do it for her.
[ALEKSANDRA]
It was when he began to move closer to her that she knew she wasn’t going to win. Her self-restraint had reached its limit, her wrist burning from the crescent shaped wounds she had dug into the flesh. How he could move with the grace of a predator, smile with such ease, she would never know. Maybe it was her. Maybe he wasn’t as into her as she had originally thought. It wouldn’t be the first time that she had been told she was lacking. She was too short, too soft, eyes too wide. There was always something.
Or, maybe, detachment was his niche.
“Yes,” she whispered, the tip of her tongue peeking out between plump lips for a brief moment. “It’s cold and empty, but with a hint of… promise.” If this had been a discussion when she was in her right mind, where her emotions weren’t burning, she would have said something with more meaning. It would have made more sense, but in that moment, with him leaning closer, she couldn’t think. Slowly, she began to release the hold on her wrist, each finger peeling from her skin slowly. There was a second when her middle finger released the pressure it had on her wrist, she feared it was cracked.
It was as though her body was no longer hers to control. When she had finally freed her wrist, her arm swaying loose to her side, he graced her with that grin. That rare curve of his lips that lit his face paired with the slow burn in his eyes, and she was a goner. There was no fighting it. That smile was becoming her poison, and she was becoming addicted. “Darker?” The one word was all she could manage, and as he leaned down – and hunched he was, as she stood at 5’4 – her fingers found their way into his hair. That first connection was all it took, and the sparks burned through her veins like lightning.
“I think you’ll still be hot as hell,” she said, a low purr to her voice as she tipped her head back – not kissing him, not yet. No, she’d already made the first move, nails scraping over his scalp.
