Winter is Coming {Finley}

[Winter]

The way that the other woman stared at her face was an unfamiliar experience to the German architect.

She was accustomed to stares, people looking on her scars with horror and repulsion, she was used to the fear that her wound struck into most of the people that she met, and the way that she intimidated many without even noticing that they existed, simply by looking the way that she looked. Most of all, though, she was used to the way that people cringed with revulsion when that lifeless eye settled on them, when she actually took someone into her gaze and held them there, couched in the simplest of her glances. The wound she had gained had also gifted her with a power over many people’s self-control, over their polite facades and politically correct airs that they surrounded themselves with, an ability to peer straight through the mask that most modern society wore, to glance the reality of the person beneath, to see just the smallest bit of something that they didn’t want her to see through the cracks.

Finley, though, looked at her with an open curiosity, and with a reaction that she found intriguing in the extreme; her obvious attraction unflagging in the glance of the lifelessness of her left eye. That made Winter smile, a grin filled with an amusement; with a light that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wasn’t entirely sure, though, that some of what she was deducing was a bit of the drink she’d consumed getting to her head.

She wasn’t, by any stretch of the word, drunk, but she could certainly feel the light-headed buzz that came with the swift consumption of the strong 151. That feeling was a familiar companion, and, lips curled in that wistful smile, she followed it onto the dance floor after Finley, as she had been beckoned. The subtle gesture that she had given like a wordless command that her body reacted to without a single thought from her tingling brain.

Her soft emerald gaze moved over the woman as she twisted and turned on the dance floor, her body swaying with the pulse of the room, a part of the living organism of the dance floor. The most appealing part of that organism; the part that pulled her in. Watching her body as it swayed from side to side with the beat of the music that thrummed through her chest, Winter felt herself drawn forward, until she felt her body against Finley’s. She let her head fall back and she gave a laugh, the sound starting rough, like she wasn’t used to using her voice at all, and swiftly smoothing out into a mellow melody that was lost in the sounds of the club.

She hadn’t felt this… alive in a long, long time. Maybe this was the beginning of something new; a new chapter in her life. Maybe it was something that she could actually enjoy, for a change.

“You look like you have done some dancing in your time. You are pretty good at this.”

[Finley Prim]

Finley’s scars were invisible. Where Winter’s were there to see, on the surface, Finley’s resided below the skin. They were scars that would have affected her personality, the way her life turned out, though she never would admit to it. She wouldn’t even recognise them as scars, but merely as bumps and scratches that any person sustains in a lifetime. Finley Prim was a veritable Dorian Gray; vampirism and immortality had halted the aging process. She could be as naughty and as deviant as she liked and she would remain the same, young, boisterous and full of energy and life—even if she was technically dead.

There’d be scars inside where the poison of the allergy had tried to kill her, washed over and made clean again by the blood she’d been fed that she could not remember consuming. The life she had been given was one acquired in a state of drunkenness; Finley Prim was a train wreck. But the gift that Grant had given to her was a smokescreen for what lay beneath.

Finley was a materialist. People were like things. They were objects, to have and to enjoy. To collect, only to be thrown away once their use had run out, or once she grew bored of them. Sometimes when she fed she did just that—she didn’t ask and there was no warning, she just did it, before walking away and forgetting the face of the one whose blood sustained her for another night. At other times, she wanted to turn it into a game. She wanted her silver tongue to convince the other player that it was fun. And when she released them at dawn, she did so with a wink and a slap on the backside.

It was generally the men she didn’t remember.

It was generally the women she liked to take home.

Winter had loosened up over the past half hour to an hour, the dancing eliciting melodic, rusty laughter from her slender, enticing throat. The compliment did not go unheeded, and Finley took it as permission to slip her fingers into Winter’s hair, to gently pull her close. The human would feel the whisper of Finley’s breath against her throat; she might even feel the subtle, feather-light touch of painted lips before they were lifted, the words weighted when they were spoken directly into the German’s ear, so close as to bypass the thumping, pounding music that so moved them.

”Will you come home with me, Winter? Will you let me bite you?” she asked. She’d be reluctant to allow the German to leave if she said no. Maybe she’d stalk her if she did. Maybe there’d be no choice. Finley had picked her meal. She wanted it. And when Finley wanted something, she didn’t stop until she had it.

[Winter]

Winter had left her meeting that night a victor. She had been a real winner, a powerhouse in the board room of a huge business chain that had the pick of any architect on the planet, and had convinced them that she was the best of them all. That elation, that raw glee at her distinction had paled in comparison to what she was feeling in the moment with this one woman, this person she’d never encountered, never seen, never so much as heard of was making her feel; like she was floating on air. The fingers in her hair were a nice touch, a pleasant feel of just the right amount of forward aggression that was really nailed home as the other woman moved closer. The subtle brush of her lips against her throat sent a tremor down her spine like a lightning bolt had struck her, her lip tucked quickly between teeth that savaged the tender flesh as she fought back a sound she wasn’t sure was appropriate for public, even in the din of the club.

The soft play of Finley's breath across her skin earned the skip of her heart as she gave a thick swallow, bringing herself under control as she felt the woman move away from her sensitive throat. She had always been very skilled with self control, but there were just certain spots that urged a reaction from someone. That, clearly, was one of hers.

Quickly, she regained her breathing, but the bait had already been laid. The intimate exchange was an obvious in for more. The slender blonde turned the idea over in her head. She had come here to celebrate a victory. What better way to celebrate than with a night of some abandonment of her reservations? It had already crossed her mind before, and she found the idea appealing. What could it really hurt, to let herself have just that little bit of fun?

The anticipation built with the crescendo of the music that climaxed as she felt the other blonde press her lips against her ear. Her words turned her blood into ice water in her veins.

Maybe she was over-thinking what Finley had said. Maybe she was being kinky. Maybe she was being fun. She certainly didn’t seem like she was one of those… monsters.

Her last encounter with a vampire had ended with her gaining her fresh scars and her sister losing an arm, along with a closeness that they had shared. Those wounds she felt deeper than the loss of half her sight, any day. She took a breath and gave a hard swallow, biting back her sudden surge of fear. It was silly, to be frightened of every mention of teeth. She gave the woman against her a smirk, and let her arms slip around the woman’s neck, forearms resting on her shoulders. “Kinky. I like it.” She laughed, the sound rough around the edges, though still honey-sweet as she pulled the woman closer and nodded. “I think that would be fun. Just let me grab my things.”

Outside, she could make a better distinction about the woman that had captivated her that evening. At least she wouldn't be alone with the uneasy feeling that had driven her off the street and into the club in the first place.

[Finley Prim]

Finley thought it was rather obvious what she was suggesting; a bite, in this city, could only mean one thing. It could only indicate that she was a vampire, that she wanted blood. She wanted consent; she wanted to have some fun, and fun for Finley did not include fear of any kind. Kinky, she’d said, and she claimed to like it. That, according to Finley, was full and complete consent. With a grin, she slipped out of Winter’s grip and nodded toward the exit.

”I’ll meet you outside,” she said with a wink. She dissolved into the crowd like a wraith, sliding and gliding through the throng, revelling in the touch of the hot, sticky skin of strangers. It might gross some people out, but Finley was addicted to the touch of life. Life, boisterousness, clamorous and raucous life. Strange, that she should feel most alive when her heartbeat had been taken from her.

Out on the street, the breeze was cool as it touched her skin, alighting upon the bits and pieces of sweat that had been left behind by foreign bodies. Finley took a deep breath and held that coolness in her dead lungs; behind her, she could still hear the steady thump and thud of the bass of the music still fuelling the writhing bodies within. Her ears thrummed, numb after being lambasted with sound. It was thrilling, the way her eardrums sung, ringing, still. It was as if the real world on the street weren’t real, and the club was a dream that she ought to return to.

She hadn’t known this feeling existed without alcohol. It was gratifying to know that she could still experience the high.

”Alright, Fin?” Rodrigo asked. It wasn’t like Finley to hang out on the footpath. It never took her long to stumble her way home – either alone, or with company. Finley gleamed, grinning as she nodded.

”You’re a perfect gentleman for asking, Rodrigo. Fine! Waiting for my new date to join me,” she said with a wink. The breeze played with her hair, and she would have asked the bouncer if he had a cigarette to spare if she didn’t think that Winter would join her sooner rather than later.

[Winter]

As the woman retreated, leaving a breath of space between them, Winter felt herself drawn toward the departing woman. She answered Finley’s words with a coy smirk, before the other turned to vanish into the crowd, but not before the tall Bavarian woman took in an eyeful of her backside, watching the way the leather hugged her shapely lower half before she was swallowed by the crowd. Working her lower lip between her teeth, Winter shook her head and gave herself a quiet chuckle before she turned and made her way to the bar.

She leaned over the bar and quickly waved down the ‘tender, offering the man a wide smile as he approached. Before he could ask, she nodded. “Ja, my things! We are out of here.” The man couldn’t help himself, and gave the long-maned woman a wink as he handed over the red steel tube that she tossed over her head, dropping it over her shoulder as she took her bag as well. “Get you some, girl,” the man laughed, and Winter just smiled, as she intended to do just that. She turned, then, and swiftly twisted and wound her way through the dance floor, pushing herself between and past dancing couples, accepting and ignoring many a grind of a pelvis against her hips and backside, one hand lashed out of the darkness and made a grope of her breast, and went ignored.

If she hadn’t had someplace to be, she probably would have taught someone a lesson, though.

Once she had made her way to the other side of the fleshy gauntlet, she could feel the air become that much clearer, her body cool with the sheen of sweat that was only partially her own. She felt an urge to laugh at the way that she felt, at the way she was so much more alive than she had felt in longer than she could remember. Instead, she placed a hand against her cargo, assuring herself that it was still with her, and she pushed her way out into the night, where her date awaited.

When she saw her standing there, slender figure all the more alluring without the haze of the club around her, chatting up the big man at the door, she slid by the bull-necked bouncer, and made her way to Finley’s side. She knew she was in denial about what the woman was. She knew about Harper Rock, about the things that came from here, about the things that had been in the news, and the things that had happened to her and what had done them to her. She also knew, or at least believed after her brief encounter with the woman before her, that perhaps they weren’t all the same. Finley hadn’t given her any reason to fear her. She’d been fun, to say the very least of their time together, and if she could overlook that…

“Hey! Are we ready?” She plucked at the strap of her poster carrier, and gave her bag a gentle shake. “I forgot to grab a coat this afternoon.” she said as an afterthought, as an explanation, just as a gentle breath of wind swept through the narrow alley, causing her to shiver, the sweat glistening against her skin suddenly much cooler than she had bargained for. She doubted she would ever be acclimated to this Canadian weather.

[Finley Prim]

She’d been right.

Winter had joined her sooner rather than later; as soon as she’d slipped to Finley’s side, Rodrigo chuckled knowingly. He was about to turn back to the line and continue to do his job before Finley grabbed his wrist. Her fingers caressed his skin, both of her hands taking his one between them. Her shoulders hunched, chin lowered and eyes fluttering.

”Rodrigo, you are a big manly man. You have so much muscle, I’m sure it’s not even cold out here for you. Am I right? If I promise to return it to you tomorrow… will you lend your jacket to my new friend…? I know it’s part of the uniform. We won’t go anywhere but home, I promise…” she said, coy and sultry. There was a depth to the smoothness of her voice; it was laced with power. Subtle, but it was there. If Winter were a smart woman she’d see it, hear it. She’d see that Finley hadn’t used said power upon her. She’d won Winter fair and square and without cheating.

Rodrigo hesitated but only for ten seconds. And then he was sighing and, handing Finley his clipboard to hold, he peeled the jacket from his broad shoulders. He held it out, and Finley swapped the jacket for the clipboard. She bounced just once on her feet. Success! And then she leaned up on her tippy toes and pecked Rodrigo’s cheek.

”You’re a darling, Rodrigo. I’ll return it tomorrow. I promise,” she said. A promise she intended to keep, unless something untoward should happen to the jacket. If it did, she’d just have to repay Rodrigo some other way.

”Home isn’t far, but I won’t have you catching a cold,” Finley said to Winter, holding out the jacket. It was a thick jacket, and was still full of warmth. Human warmth. There was nothing Finley could do to warm Winter up – not merely with her own body heat, anyway. Sure, there were ways she could set the woman’s skin alight, but it would have to wait until they were indoors. ”Shall we?” she said, nodding to the East.

[Winter]

Winter was, indeed, a smart woman. She sometimes did her best to remain blissfully ignorant, or at least to appear to be. The display of power over the mountain of a man in front of them was a very potent show of what she was, of what she was capable of. For the first time since the incident, she found herself not feeling fear at being so close to a vampire, to someone that could possibly be a vampire, even. If her sister knew, she would probably hate her even more than she already did. If she knew she was intentionally going home with one of them… well, there was a reason they didn’t talk anymore.

She stood frozen when the man hesitated, suddenly unsure of whether she had been right, thinking that she had witnessed what she had believed that she had witnessed. She held her breath, afraid to make a sound, lest the spell that Finley had put him under be broken. And then the big man pulled his jacket from his large frame. Winter was all but stunned, staring at the man with her good eye as he held the jacket out to the slender woman at her side. She offered a smile to the woman when she turned to her, and voiced her concern for her wellbeing.

Finley might be rough around the edges, living in the grit and grime of life and making the most of every moment, but when it came down to where it counted, she was a very thoughtful sort of lady. It made Winter feel all the luckier to have stumbled across such a catch, a fantastic finish to a wonderful night. She let the poster tube fall to her elbow as she ducked into the jacket several sizes too large for her, letting it rest across her shoulders and all but swallow her in its warmth. She gave Finley another smile and turned to look up at the giant form of Rodrigo, and tipped her head. “Thank you, so much.”

She lifted a hand and pushed her hair out and over the collar of the jacket as she turned to Finley. This woman was scoring all of the brownie points. “So thoughtful of you… thank you, really. I’ll just have to owe you.” She smirked, and gave the woman a wink, unsure if the effect was flirty or unsettling, with her dead eye watching her without seeing her through the gesture, but she found herself comfortable enough to keep from worrying. She glanced over her shoulder at the line waiting outside of the club, and watched them for a moment, before she turned back to the woman at her side. “So, Finley, care to whisk me off for that bite?”

Winter could be playful, when she wanted to be.

[Finley Prim]

Finley’s smile was slow and dazzling in the low light emitted by the streetlights. She’d already nodded. She’d already suggested that they leave, that they begin to walk. She could only assume, perhaps egotistically, that Winter was too distracted to have noticed. The vampiress slipped her arm around Winter’s torso and began to walk in East, the direction that she had suggested. She had decided that she would take the Winter home. There was no harm in that. There was no harm in a small bite, either. Not one that was allowed, willingly. Maybe Winter would come back. Again, and again. Maybe they’d be fast friends. Finley grinned, the expression luscious upon her painted lips.

”Home’s not too far away,” she purred. She was patient enough and had respect enough for her chosen ‘meal’ not to push her up against some dirty wall somewhere, and leave her dazed in a heap on a ground that was dirtied by decades’ worth of spit and piss and vomit and chewing gum. ”Just a couple of blocks,” she hummed. Her heels were tall but she walked in them as if she’d been born in them, fluid and graceful.

”And while we walk, we could get to know each other a little,” she said, her voice retaining its low purr though there was cheer in it, too. ”Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but curious minds must know -- and patience isn’t my forte. But what happened to your eye?” she asked, dragging her finger over her own eye to indicate the scar gracing the other’s face. Finley didn’t find it hideous. Not at all. It was mysterious, and naturally alluring to the woman who craved danger.

It might have been a personal question, but Winter could deny Finley an answer if it was one she held close to her heart. If there was a possibility of answers, Finley would ask. Rejection was not something she was accustomed to, so when she was rejected it was easily brushed aside. It only meant she’d try harder to get to know this curious woman now coming home with her.

[Winter]

When the smaller woman’s arm slipped around her waist, Winter all but melted into her side. Something about Finley’s touch made her feel very… feminine. Perhaps it was the woman’s overt desire, the way she looked at Winter with a hunger etched in her features that made the pale Kraut feel that way, or perhaps it was the strength she could feel in that slender limb just from the way that it rested around her, holding her against the other woman’s side.

No matter the cause of the sensation, it pleased her, and it pleased her that such a sensational creature had found such a piqued interest in her, that the thing that had been reviled as ugly and unattractive had, it would seem, been a lure for this beautiful predator. As they walked, Winter nodded her appeasement at Finley’s tentative plan, her own arm lazily laid across the woman’s back, slender fingers gripping at the vampire’s hip.

“I like that idea,” she murmured softly, schooling her harsh accent, allowing the words to flow a little softer than they had inside, over the din of the club. Her eye followed the direction that Finley had tugged her in, glancing down the street as she did her best to make an educated guess as to which building would have been hers. Some were nice. Some were nicer. Some, she would have been a little timid to set foot in, for fear of being mugged. The condition of the woman’s living arrangements were potentially from penniless squalor to top dollar suite in an upstanding apartment tower. She tried not to judge, but the woman at her side didn’t seem the type to dwell in the filth.

If it turned out that way? Winter had no qualms with letting the woman see her own place, after a time.

Lost in her thoughts, her fingers drumming lazily against Finley’s hip, she almost missed her question. The question so many were afraid to ask. The question that so many just assumed the answer to, or feared to know, or to ask. She’d never really been confronted with someone actually wanting to know about the scar. Her lips twitched as she thought, turning to look down at the woman as she lifted a shoulder in response. “I was attacked. Someone thought to hurt me, and they did.” She wasn’t sure exactly how much she should disclose. She had never breached the subject with anyone, the only person that would have dared to ask had been there.

Subconsciously, she lifted a hand to run a finger across the jagged pink mark that marred her face. At a glance, Finley didn’t appear to have any such flaws. That was as good a first question as any, she supposed. “What about you? Have you got any marks?”

[Finley Prim]

Although Finley was quite certain that Grant would have loved if she lived with him, it was not something that she had agreed to. Instead, she’d finagled enough money for her own place. Finagled. Finley. It worked! Of course she now needed to afford the upkeep, but a woman like Finley always found a means.

The building they were headed for, the one whose lobby door they finally walked through, was square, but neat. It didn’t look like much from the outside—red brick had clearly been painted an off white to give it a more classical bearing. An old, heritage building that’d been renovated and worth a pretty penny, now. Many of the windows were lit warmly from within—and there were a lot of windows. Finley, when choosing, had specifically requested the apartment with the least amount of windows. She’d got herself a corner apartment that had its own private little courtyard and, though there was quite a lot of glass looking out to the sunshine and open sky, Finley had had electric shutters fitted that she could have drawn before the sun came up. She had yet to figure out how to properly set up a timer, so she didn’t even have to think about it.

The answer to Finley’s question only inspired more questions; someone had sought to hurt Winter, and they had succeeded. Perhaps it was as simple and as innocent as that, no intent, no reason but for the joy of it. Thugs, who enjoyed the sight of blood. Sociopaths who enjoyed watching something pretty get ruined.

The way Winter said it, however, it was almost as if someone thought she had done something to deserve it. Jealousy? Professional competition? Was it so cutthroat as all that? Tit for tat, however, and Finley’s questions could wait. She nodded, slowly.

”I’ve got a couple,” she said, sagely. From when she was a teenager and the world wasn’t as bright as it was now. Wasn’t as bright as she’d made it once she’d freed herself of her self-made chains. She’d claimed freedom, and perhaps not in all the right ways. But it was freedom nonetheless. Luxury was her goal, and luxury was what she had achieved. ”Maybe you’ll see them. Later,” she added with a wink. She wouldn’t have to explain, once Winter set eyes upon the scars. Hidden, but with a purpose. ”They’re not as adventurous as yours, I’d wager,” she said. Keys had been retrieved and now dangled from her fingers. They’d reached her doorway.

”Welcome home,” she said with a coy smile as the door swung open and she gestured for Winter to step through first.