Indigo Blues-[Adley Reed]

[Indigo]

Indigo was watching the angel of her worst night ever bending to tend to her foot with a sponge in hand. She hissed in and held a deep breath following his suggestion to balance and not submerge into the pool of water forming beneath her. She studied his profile and searched for signs of the iron that he was certain he got enough of. Instead she was left to gather the cool scent of him that was unique, pleasing and quickly overpowering the scented soap spreading around her lower legs. She couldn’t place what combination it was but left that to be sorted out later depending how things worked out with the task at hand.

The pressure of his touch was reassuring when she glanced at the invasive glass standing tall like a crystal tower in the sandy color of her skin. There was a lot of things she would do if she had to and pulling the shard out of her foot herself would be one of them. However like anyone else with such a predicament she left it off her top ten things she wanted to do. Why do it alone if she didn’t have to? It was going to bad enough watching Adley do it. She was thankful he looked more than prepared to do it as he asked about first aid supplies.

“Mmm, under the sink I think is where I last saw it. Not sure what is in it but I will make do with what is there.” The toes of the foot not in his hold slipped beneath the water wiggled. “ You are going to be ready for private practice after this.”

Adley’s offer of being cleaned up, a cocktail and comfy pajamas made it sound so inviting to feel the pain that went with what would be a rather bloody mess. Her hands curled nearly white knuckle tight at the edge of the tub and locked down over the white groove beneath her palms. She was ready for what would come next. The tweezers surrounded by yellow rubber stood out as she inclined her head bravely to watch instead of look away. She inhaled deep until her lungs were expanded and tight within her chest. The strain of her triceps was welcome as her stomach tightened up to join in the effort of supporting her in her balancing act. Her mind was ready as he pulled on what she had no recollection of penetrating her to begin with. With the wiggle and another tug the glass was firmly pulled back out. A quick exhale rushed through her lips and was followed by another deep draw of air inward that resulted in an audible hiss.

“Oh gods, thank you!” She gasped out in relief it was over. The spurt of blood rushing over the small narrow crevice left behind was proof. “It already feels so much better.”

Not that she had ever had glass embedded in her body before. It wasn’t like she was comfortable with the events but she wasn’t alone in the process of cleaning up and making sense of whatever she could. She should be mixing him the drink and tucking him into a comfortable spot as a reward. Especially since she was bleeding all over the yellow gloves covering his hands. It was a good thing he wore them after all. Without giving it a second thought she leaned over and pressed a warm lingering kiss his cheek.

“You are my hero!” He really was. How could anyone possibly top what he just did? "I owe you a drink, Doctor. Is that allowed?"

[Adley Reed]

The blood spilled from the clean wound, bubbling over onto the yellow gloves. Adley could have released the foot immediately, but he didn’t. Because he enjoyed the sight of the red so stark against the yellow, highlighted by it. He wanted to push at it, to squeeze the skin and force more of the blood from the wound. He was entranced, smearing the red of the blood over the smoothness of the gloves, nostrils flaring as he pulled in the scent of her. The very life of her. He wanted to lift the gloves to his face. He wanted to feel her blood on his skin. He wanted to lay her out in the tub, just as he had imagined – and while cleaning her, he wanted to cut her open.

So entranced was he that Adley hardly heard what Indigo said. The trance was only broken by the feel of her hot skin against his cheek, those soft lips pressing a kiss to his cold skin. Air huffed from his lungs as she tore his gaze away from the blood; as he caught Indigo’s eye. She was a living, breathing person. Not just a bag of blood. She was a girl who was currently thanking Adley for his help, and here he was imagining her bled dry. Rearing backwards, Adley hastily tugged the yellow gloves from his hands, dropping and the tweezers, as well as the offending piece of glass, into the swirling soapy water. The red hot red of the blood dissipated and thinned, turning a pale shade of pink. Far easier to deal with.

His body tensed, ready to flee – and yet he hesitated. With his hand closed into a semi-fist, he turned his knuckles to brush them softly over the rise of Indigo’s cheek, careful to avoid any of the abrasions and cuts that she had sustained.

”We’re not finished yet,” he said. And then he was gone. The bathroom had become too much to handle. When Indigo had said the first-aid kid was under the sink, Adley assumed the kitchen sink – even though he knew the bathroom sink made more sense. Wasn’t that where most people kept their medications? Assumption was his excuse for getting away. But she hadn’t specified. Maybe she actually meant the kitchen. Whatever the case, Adley took a little longer than he needed to. He stalked the house, taking deep breaths as he went, rubbing at his face. He had to shake it out. He had to resist the urge to flee to the street, to the next house, to find some unsuspecting victim to tear to pieces for the fun of it.

Though Adley wasn’t really sure he thought it was ‘fun’, per se. It just felt like instinct.

Instead, he found the kitchen. He turned on the sink and scrubbed at his hands until they were red raw with both the friction and the heat. The suds from the soap multiplied until he could no longer smell blood. Another couple of deep breaths, and he felt his instinct cool. He felt that friction settle. Tentatively, he pulled open the cupboard doors beneath the sink; there, within plain sight, was that little white box with its red cross on the top. Well, then. Picking it up, he opened it to make sure it had what was needed, before he made his way back to the bathroom. He went to the door before he walked past. He went to the bedroom and sucked in another breath of air; it tasted deliciously of Indigo, of whatever perfume she used, whatever detergent she used on her clothes and bed linen. The bed was massive. He held that breath, and that scent, in his lungs before he went back to the bathroom. He didn’t say a word as he held it; as he worked quickly, settled back on the edge of the tub, grabbing at a tea-towel to dry her foot before very swiftly applying antiseptic, then butterfly bandages which acted like temporary stitches, then a larger adhesive bandage, and then crisp white wrap. It wasn’t the only part of her that was bleeding. But it was the deepest wound. And if he could get that taken care of first, he might be okay.

[Indigo]

The pink swirl rising over the yellow caught her by surprise. The clink of the shard breaking through the water line and hitting the bottom of the tub took her eyes to where it came to rest. Now she thought of what remained and it was then that she felt the brush of cool knuckles across her cheek and the flood of relaxation wash through her body. Her hands weakened in her grip on the edge of the tub while she tried to hold on tighter. The catch of her inhale was frozen audibly and a heat surfaced again at her cheeks. As the contact was taken away from her skin it was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped around her and those parts of her that could be embarrassing sharpened in response. He darted from the room and she groaned pulling her body back to sit perched on the edge.

“Ugh!” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. They were not done. Of course the man knew what he was talking about. “You got that right.”

The sound of his footsteps returning cut her off. She was quick to lean over in a long stretch. Her eyes hitched a ride on his back following him. It hurt but it felt so good since she was able to get a brief glimpse of his tall frame clearing the space of the open door. Her eyes widened as she watched him pass the bathroom by and head the only place he could go with the direction he was walking. The bedroom.

Indigo, girl, you know what time it is?

Indigo’s mind was working and had her inner voice suggesting he hold it where he was and that she would be right there. As it did her hands nearly slipped and she fumbled hitting her chest to support her body from rolling off the edge and onto the floor like a dork. He would now see the room that was meant for more than one. Again he was on the move and she quickly snapped her body back, sliding her body off the edge and leaned back to rest against the small divider wall behind her.

Watching Adley continue with the cleansing and dressing of the wound using his bare hands was so relaxing that she could swear she was getting high without the weed burning between her fingers. Her mind floated like the water beneath her. Each thought rippled back and forth and so many of them involved their bodies in a similar rhythm. Could it be that she was one of those that had been through some sort of catastrophic event and was hinging her emotions on what rescued her. Elevating them to the status of a semi-god for what they had done. His hand held her foot and before the final wrapping had become a barrier between their skin to skin contact she caught his eyes. As mellow as she felt she was getting that craving that would usually call for something sweet had her appetites locked on the one who possessed the most beautiful eyes endowed upon a man. And those lips would be a welcome dessert.

“You sure you have never done this before?” She was feeling so good, so comfortably numb, that she was nearly ready to do it all over again.

[Adley Reed]

If Adley had known that his touch might have had such a soothing effect, he might have allowed it earlier. As it was, Indigo looked as if she were free as a bird, happiness epitomized. She did not act like a woman who’d just been in a horrific accident – two of them, really, equally as violent as the other. It caused Adley’s smile to stretch – she should be terrified and yet she was calm, here, with him.

The girl kept insisting on making Adley a drink, but he really didn’t want to have to refuse her ten more times. He didn’t want to force himself to drink and throw up again, just for the sake of appearance. His touch was the answer. How many people had he tested this on? In clubs, on the street, at work – it never killed them to touch him for five minutes. Even ten. It just weakened them a whole lot. They normally started yawning or complaining of aching muscles – a sudden lethargy that they just could not shake.

”I have not. I’ve seen a lot of medics …” he said. Which was true enough. When he went to photograph these scenes, sometimes the medics were already on hand; sometimes, he took gratuitous shots of the inside of the ambulances, of the victims being stitched up. Sometimes they smiled. Sometimes they swore at him. Most of the time, they just didn’t notice.

”But I think it’s entirely normal that we make you as comfortable as possible,” he said. He was sliding into his confidence skin like a fish into water; something had clicked, and he knew exactly what to do, and exactly who to be. Himself. No holding back.

”And the tiles, they’re not very comfortable,” he said. The foot was bandaged, and he tossed aside whatever implement he’d been using so that he could lean forward and collect Indigo into his arms. No more walking for her. Rest was required. He lifted her with all the effort of a weightlifter lifting a feather, and carried her through to that enormous bed with its copious pillows and luscious furnishings. He laid her out on top of the sheets, to begin with, not allowing her head to hit the bed without a pillow beneath it.

”Now, you stay there. If you want me to clean you up properly, let me see your underwear,” he said. It was a suggestion that she should take her clothes off so that he might be able to get to every other cut and abrasion, every other bruise and burn. ”And while you decide, I’m going to go get some ice, and a sponge,” he said, before he sauntered off to do just that. Yes, he was touching her. Yes, he knew that it would have an untoward effect. But, she did need rest. It had been a long night and surely, her body must be feeling it. He was doing her a favour, his curse providing her with a kind-of drug, ushering sleep on just a little bit faster.

[Indigo]

Despite the comfort zone Adley’s contact had delivered the revelation that he had seen a lot of medics clicked in her brain. Seen as in watched.

Did he enjoy it?

She had to wonder. He was covering all the bases and she would be surprised if he didn’t take some sort of interest in it with as thorough as he was. The movements of his hands were purposeful understandably. She didn’t interrupt even as those words of it being ‘entirely normal to make make her comfortable’ came through.

Indigo’s mind rifled through the time so far spent trying to put her back together. Had she inferred in some manner that it was not normal for him to be extracting a foreign object from her and mend the wound left behind? She was ready to acknowledge what was said and expand on his statement with one of her own. One that would more than clarify that she would think it would be odd if he refused to aid her in her time of need for an extra set of hands. Even if it was only to lean over from the driver’s seat in the driveway, pluck it out with his brilliant fingers from the top of her foot then drive off after she got out of his jeep.

Again the words were held too long behind her lips because the distraction of him dropping what he had in his hands was followed by the scoop of his arms bringing her up from where she had been sitting like a bird on a wire. The fabric between them was clearly soiled as soon as it blended with her blood and his embrace. She gave a slight frown at the proof that she just extended her stains from his vehicle to his clothing. She didn’t take the time to point out the obvious. Surely he felt the cool damp spots bleeding through to his skin beneath the fabric covering him.

The feeling of floating filled her until her body was reclined to the bed beneath her. She was feeling way too good for someone who survived the vehicle version of Twister. It wasn't until his hands released her that small twinges of nerve pain and the ache of knotted and over stretched muscles started to return.

What was it they said about some that had a healing touch?

She was curious. It was apparent that the man possessed something in his touch that left her so relaxed that she felt high and now that it was taken from her the feeling was showing signs of wearing off. Her body was telling her the ride was worse than she had first thought. Her clothing was fixed to her like an extra skin that she needed to shed. Her fingers pulled at it slowly to remove it just as he pointed out that it would need to be.

It was hardly forward and if anything as much as she wanted to entertain the request for him to allow her the same view of what had to be phenomenal beneath his now ruined clothes, she resigned to the fact it would be less than respectful given their current roles of doctor and patient. Her gratitude could not wane just because he got her high and was more beautiful than any dream she ever had that she ever had...well that she could recall anyway. How many could she really truly recall? Fewer than the fingers on one of her trembling hands as she felt the material pull at the abrasions on her hip that it had dried to. She paused briefly and inhaled deeply before continuing on.

If she had gone to the emergency room she would have already been in a gown with the ties on the back knotted up uncomfortably beneath her back and neck. She imagined that she would have been left to relax as best as she could on a vinyl covered pressed wood exam table that only offered enough padding to make the first fifteen minutes of an injured patients stay tolerable. The typical hour wait for further treatment needed meant discomfort from the lack of cushion beneath the writhing and groaning body. They wanted the insurance companies money and the public's business but they certainly didn’t want anyone too comfortable that they sought it out routinely.

Her hands dropped the remaining material and she glanced in the mirror. What was left was a visual that she wasn't exactly planning on ever seeing with her face attached but certainly a lot better than what she could have discovered given the circumstances. She would survive and whatever marks were left behind would be embraced reminders that no matter how bad things were they could always be worse. Young Indigo would much rather live than to die flawless.

The sounds of footsteps reminded her the luxury of the largest and most accommodating exam table would soon be in use. Her stiff and sore body slid over the white and black silken bedding and ignored if any blood was left in her wake. She rolled onto her back and hardly felt like she was there to be enticing in her nearly bare, save for the wisps of lace over her body where they could be expected, and blood stained glory. However, that reality started to get fuzzy as she watched him enter the room.

[Adley Reed]

Within the room, Adley was suave and calm, his lips gently curved in an indulging smile, his breath held and yet his body remained relaxed. It was a forced state of being. He’d said he was going out to get a sponge and some ice, and yet it was another excuse. Being around Indigo and her blood was like holding his breath underwater. If he breathed in, he would drown. In order to survive he had to break the surface and take a huge gulp of salty air.

Once out in the kitchen again, he did just that. Glancing down, he noticed that his shirt was stained with wet, hot red blood. In one swift, frustrated motion, both jacket and shirt were removed and tossed to the other side of the room. He walked as far away from the scent as he could, ending up in a corner somewhere over near where the bar was; somewhere where he couldn’t smell blood. Somewhere he could take long, hard breaths to clear his head. He even plucked a bottle of Midori from the shelf, so that he could open it and inhale the sickly sweet scent of it. Over and over, until the nerves in his nostrils felt burnt because of it.

Because it wasn’t the bathtub he imagined filled with blood, now. He instead imagined it spreading out beneath Indigo, like angel’s wings on either side of her. And yet, in his mind, she was still looking at him the way she had in the bathroom, lids half-mast and her lips partly open. Thirsty, desirous, lustful. Maybe he was imagining that, too, but he didn’t think so. It only fueled his needs. The very ones he had to try to ignore, and control.

After he’d calmed his ratcheting desire for bloodshed, Adley gathered his wits and searched the house for the things he needed; from the laundry he found a clean bucket. From the kitchen and the bathroom he retrieved all the ice that he could find, which he put into a different container. From the bathroom, the rest of the first-aid supplies, and some towels, and the sponge. While in the bathroom, his gaze shied away from all the red, ignoring it completely, imagining it was just paint. A random splash of colour that was out of place with the rest of the décor.

He returned to the bedroom like one of the men out of those ‘porn for women’ calendars; the kind where the muscled egos were cleaning house or performing mundane domestic tasks. In this scenario, he was the domestic nurse. He didn’t explain the loss of his shirt. Let her think he had some weird aversion to blood. Which wasn’t completely untrue. Maybe that’s what he should have rolled with when she asked whether he was okay. Just a bit squeamish, he could have said. But that made him sound weak. And he was far from weak.

It was hard to not just stop and stare. It was hard not to drop everything in order to admire. But he could do that while he administered to her wounds. He grinned down at Indigo, biting at his bottom lip. The pain of his teeth digging into his own flesh helped to keep his sadistic desires at bay. First, he dug through the first-aid kid to find some burn cream; he got on his knees beside the bed, his fingers gently tucked behind Indigo’s knee to urge her to lift her leg so he could have full access to the burn. As softly as he could, he applied the soothing cream to the burn, generously lathering the welted area. After it was applied, he blew on it. He cooled it down. Was he trying to be sensual? Probably. But also, he thought it would serve a purpose. After the cream was applied, he wrapped the ice in a towel and tucked it up against the burn.

All this, he did wordlessly. She should rest, and he didn’t want to keep her awake with conversation.

Once the burn was dealt with, he turned to the wounds. Oh, it would be so much better once all that blood was gone, the scratches and gouges covered with the acrid antiseptic and wrapped in bandages. And yet, he did not work hastily. Instead, he worked with steady ease, his fingers brushing her skin only enough to keep her semi-sedated.

[Indigo]

Up until that point her luck was either shitty or amazing depending how one would view the circumstances. As far as she was concerned she was obviously messed up but not blind. Indigo watched the movements of muscle beneath more skin than she really expected to see. He filled up the room and she felt like the rest of the walls around her disappeared. When do things like this really even happen? Not that she failed to suggest the possibility back in the bathroom because she did tell him to take off his shoes. She sighed. Here he was making all the pain go away, cleaning up her mess and she was eyeing him like beefcake of the month. She knew she should be ashamed but it was pretty hard to do when he came closer.

It was then that she felt that craving of the high that washed over her with his contact. Could that be reasonable? There was nothing to base it on other than it was one of the understandable responses to someone saving her life, which she totally felt that he done without a doubt. But even with the empty space between them she was drawing on something that was not happening. He was out of reach and yet the items he had in his hold gave her every reason to believe that was about to change. She was injured. It was reasonable. His words, right?

Snap out of it,girl!

Slowly her head moved shifting the angle in how she took in his presence. It was just enough to follow him as he stopped beside the bed. She glanced at the bucket then back to his face. He really shouldn’t look at her like that. It was all wrong for the scene at hand and it did things that made her forget that she was in need of repair. She looked down at her barely covered body and realized certain parts of her were at attention. Her brow raised and her hand curled slowly taking some of the bedding into the middle of her palm drawing it over the proof that she was not in complete misery. Her jaw slowly dropped as he took possession of that tempting lower lip he had going on and gave it a well deserved pinch.

That is right. A little harder. Go on…

Indigo’s thoughts coached him to give it a little more pressure. He earned it. The move to fill up her hand closest to him was effective. She couldn’t reach out if her hand was preoccupied. Thank gods for that. Maybe she was better off just going to the hospital so they could finish her there. She wouldn’t have felt the odd conflict of hunger, pain and pleasure. She would have just died of a panic attack. Anything they would have done would have been earned given the thoughts that went through her head involving the exotic Adonis when his hand found that soft, incredibly sensitive space behind her knee. And there it started all over again with the movement of his fingers and the slow caressing circles. Each one moved her into a deeper sense of calm, peace and...

No. Not now. Hold on.

Indigo did her best trying to keep her eyelids open but was failing miserably. Up and back the pools of blue rolled until that first cool puff of air floated over the well massaged wound. She felt like she was weightless and instantly cured. A shot of touch from Adley to her system had seemingly hit every place that needed relief. That was until his hands paused and pulled away once the ice and wrap was set. The rest of her that was in need stirred again, tormenting her in ways she never had been before. She wasn’t to suffer long. Another fix arrived when he went work on her. As expected her body was no contender for the power of his touch. She was so getting high and she hoped when all was done he would find a way to hold her down. All it took was one of his fingertips moving over her skin. It was that small contact that sent her to the moon in a state of lucid surrender. She didn’t mind being so high. She just wanted him to be there when it was time to bring her back down.

[Adley Reed]

As Adley tried his best to clean the wounds scattered across Indigo’s body, he marvelled at where he found himself. The night had started off so ordinarily; he’d woken up in his small apartment by himself, reminding himself that he was perfectly fine on his own. He didn’t need anyone. And if he wanted company, he’d have no trouble finding it. There was always Jameson; the guy always seemed up for the company. Yes, Adley was aware that Jameson had his problems. That he was an addict. But everyone was an addict, in some way. Not everyone knew it, but in some small or large way, the whole world was addicted to something. Some more than others. But they were the people who knew how to live.

And now he was here in this house that could fit his apartment in it five times over. He was watching the effect his touch had on this girl, whose skin was honey-gold, with her wild hair and her captivating gaze. It was fascinating, it was enthralling, invigorating to see the way her body reacted to each gentle caress.

Though Adley didn’t want to push it. He knew he couldn’t do all the things he wanted to do; he shouldn’t test the things he wanted to test. He didn’t know the extent of this curse of his. He didn’t know how far was too far. She looked like she was in utter bliss, but what if she slipped into some kind of coma? As much as he wanted to delay, Adley tore his gaze away from Indigo’s face and hastily set to work. Each scratch was cleaned and disinfected, before it was bandaged – big bandages and small ones, each cut was attended to. Even the dirt was scrubbed from her knees, and from the palms of her hands. By the time he was done, she would feel as if she had been for a proper bath. She wouldn’t feel dirty at all.

There were leaves in her hair that he pulled from the tangled strands. But it was her swollen lip that he focused on last; he picked up a clean cloth for her face. He even went back to the bathroom to raid the cupboards and drawers for make-up remover and cotton pads. Not that she was wearing much make-up to begin with. He had been given a crash course in make-up removal by an old conquest; he’d been transfixed, really, by the transformation. It was something Lola had made a big deal about, pouting because he’d convinced her he had to stay at her place because he couldn’t possibly drive home drunk. She hadn’t wanted him to see her without make-up, but he had talked her into it. He had watched as the liquid had stripped away all the layers of paint. And she’d been just as beautiful underneath it all.

Once he’d found what he was searching for, Adley had returned to the bedroom. With one knee on the bed, and one hand curled into a fist beside Indigo’s head, he leaned over her to remove any make-up or grime that her face had accumulated over the course of the chaotic evening.

When he touched her, it was lightly – a thumb caressing the curve of her jaw. A soothing motion to try to get her to sleep. Sleep. At least he couldn’t smell the blood anymore. All he could smell was the disinfectant. This wasn’t a bad thing. He could admire Indigo without imagining her laying in a pool of her own blood. And in that moment, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave. Something had happened. Something had changed. Something momentous, and he had to try to figure out what it was.

[Indigo]

The cloud she was floating on lowered subtly with the press of his knee down beside her and the weight of his body hanging above her. The movement was just enough that the lids covering her indigo orbs lifted and the vision above her pulled her from her nearly sedating high. The curious balance of the toffee dream lingering above the space where his fist managed to anchor him captured her. Yes, there he was. Cotton pulled across her skin and she felt a shiver slide to the base of her spine.

Indigo’s gaze followed the line up of skin that reminded her of light brown sugar. A vision inspiring a sweet anticipation that was instantly drawing on the need to caress it, taste it to know that it was real. A shift of her focus followed the divide that framed his mesmerizing face with a regal tightly weaved golden blonde crown. Angels and royalty had communed and created. His exotic features are the only proof needed. Her fingers could not resist spending the energy needed to lift to touch the what felt like fine, tightly woven silk. The draw of her nails slid through barely reaching the surface of his scalp. A reflex of drawing in the air between them took over until she held her breath. It was as if everything else but him and the room they were in dissolved.

A breath’s space away her fingertips of both hands traced the length of his face.. As if time was standing still she moved slowly until they touched down landing on the slope of his cheekbones. Light, barely there caresses pulled over his skin until the heels of her palms slid into the heavenly wealth of those lips she wanted to sample. The lower one was pulled by the sleepy pull of her index fingers strumming it once before releasing it.

So high. She was getting so high that she was sure if he wasn’t over her she would be gone. The travel of her hands brought each under his arms and floated over the space of the back of his shoulders hovering but never fully gliding into contact. The energy from the constant almost but not quite touch was caressing her open palms. It reminded her of the power of alternative healing. He had so much of it she was oblivious to the wounds beneath the subtle pull of the bandages on her skin as she shifted beneath him. Staying completely still was hard when she felt like melting into him.

Her foot pressed flat, the bare heel glided upward and paused as if she may need the stability it could provide. With parted lips her voice should have surfaced but there was perfection in the silence. So much more in the moment that was being said. She was hearing it, feeling it as her hands were outlining the sides of his body waiting, savoring the increase of her heat dangerously close to his flesh. She wished the cotton ball disappear and be replaced with his mouth, his lips. That it all would be followed with the stroke of that tongue that was so out of reach that an a whole new ache was forming for what she never had and perhaps never would.

[Adley Reed]

Indigo was a complete stranger and this house was new to Adley. The very tone of her skin, the lightness of her eyes, the curve of her lips and the darkness of her lashes were all completely new. The wildness of her hair spread out over the pillows and she was looking at Adley in such a way…

… the cotton ball slipped from his fingers, tumbling down over her chin and bouncing from her collar bone. There might have been alcohol thrumming through Indigo’s veins, but there was none in Adley’s. His decisions now were not the cause of loose inhibitions. He was no stranger to one night stands, but this was something different. This was a damsel he’d saved from distress, and he shouldn’t take advantage. He knew that. But she wasn’t drunk anymore. This whole time she’d been lucid, and barely under the influence of alcohol. However she chose to act it was with clarity of mind. However he chose to act – well, he couldn’t blame her. He could only blame himself.

He shifted beneath her non-touch. It didn’t matter if her fingers didn’t caress his skin, he could still feel her. That small body radiated such wild heat that she may as well have been touching him. Although he didn’t need to breathe, he did so now. Quick tugs of air filled his lungs and made him feel as if his heart were beating beneath the bones of his ribs, thudding away like a train on the loose. Except, there was no heartbeat. The scent of her enveloped Adley, and it wasn’t just the stale blood that he could smell. It was masked by the antiseptic, but he could detect the musk of her, that individual, unique scent that belonged to Indigo, and Indigo only.

In a moment of weakness, Adley gave in. His arm buckled and his body lowered, cold skin sliding over hot skin, torso against torso. His fingers sunk deep into the wild curls as the fullness of his lips lightly brushed hers, mindful of the way her lip was split. It was a kiss as gentle as his previous touch had been, eyes closed as he lost himself in the feel of her.

If only it was a one-night stand. If only he could indulge, fully, in what they clearly both wanted. And yet, he knew this was no one-night stand. And he knew, somehow, that their future would be full of unsated frustrations.