Aftereffects

[The Cedar Witch]

“I want to hear you play.”

-

As her driver directed the car to The Majester, Anna’s hand had drifted across the middle seat, fingers lightly interlocking with Decker's.  Her skin was noticeably warmer after feeding deeply from the unfortunate security guard back at Qamar Art Gallery.  She could still feel the buzz of excitement in the aftermath of being caught.

Childish fun.

Their escape from the Gallery would not be the end of their night together, that she was certain of.  But where the evening would lead them was another matter.  The burning in her chest hadn’t subsided, though the haunting feeling that hung over the Gallery had.  Still, she was left with a misplaced tension that had nothing to do with nerves.  It clashed with a bubbling giddiness, the after-effects of the passion in the shell, the game, the excitement of almost getting caught.

Anna was otherwise silent, clove cigarette between the first two fingers of her other hand, arm casually resting against the half-rolled window of the backseat of her Escalade.  It scarcely touched her lips but she flicked the ashes out the window at intervals as it smoldered.  Car rides left her pensive these days.

What are you doing?
Where are you going?

Thoughts drifted unpleasantly back to Nadia, pulling the corners of her mouth down as she looked out the window.  The gaping hole left by her fledge’s rejection added to that thing she couldn’t quite place.  The games she played in the Gallery with the security guard dredged up memories.  Playing cat and mouse.  Teaching her daughter to hunt unseen in the streets.  This wasn’t what she wanted to think about--that profound absence, that bitter lack.

There was only so much aching she would allow herself to tolerate.

A quiet sigh through her nose and a pull on the dwindling clove between her lips steadied the gathering storm.  She tossed the butt out the window.  It was time to focus on the distraction. 

When the car reached its destination she turned to face her new companion, a familiar glint in her eye and an expression that seemed to say Well?  We are here now. 

[Trillian]

Throughout the car ride he watched her. He couldn't get enough of looking her. He wondered who was her Pygmalion, the one who'd brought her to life. Her intensity was so breathtaking that his intake was shallow, as though he was reserving his oxygen. Drowning in her.

Wordlessly, as the car pulled outside the complex where he lived, his lips twitched a smile in her direction before he opened the door and waited for her to slide out after him. She was graceful even in doing that, moving like liquid in the back seat until she oozed out of the car and stood beside him, no longer in liquid form.

He walked with her past the garages - his own with a car within that didn't belong to him, rented out for monthly cash. They turned right into a pretty courtyard with a spherical fountain in the middle, constantly blurbing small gushes of water that fell around it. Pulling a key out of his back pocket, they moved past the fountain to door number seven. Single story with nobody living above it - just a slightly angled roof.

He let them in and closed the door after her, thumbing the lock so nobody would disturb them and placing his keys in a glass bowl on the shelving unit near the door. The chink seemed loud in the quiet apartment. He led her to the dining room that was only half-filled with dining furniture, and three guitars lined up against the wall in the other space. Freeing his hand (and feeling a sense of loss in his fingers), he pulled out one of the dining chairs for her to sit on (if she wished) and picked up the acoustic guitar by the neck. Turning, he faced wherever Anna had ended up and got himself comfortable with the instrument before plucking a few notes to test they were correctly adjusted (and they were, for he tuned it often).

Without making her wait, Decker plucked out a melody that always reminded him of prowling. She'd inspired him with her hunt of the guard.

[The Cedar Witch]

She should be bothered by how accustomed to hand-holding she had gotten with him during the short span of time they spent with one another.  The notion of being led around in this way grated against the part of her still fighting--albeit weakly--for control.  The Queen convinced herself it was for the warmth in his blood, nothing more. 

The thought triggered something like deja vu.

Anna watched him as they moved through the courtyard, paying little mind to the surroundings until he opened the door to his apartment.  She found it funny when he locked the door--was it habit or intentional?--but made no indication save the smirk touching her lips.  Her casual glances about the apartment as they moved into the dining area came to a stop when their hands began to separate.  There was a slight resistance to it on her end, an unconscious reluctance to let go that she immediately chastised herself for.

Foolish, silly girl.

But they released without further issue and she found herself immediately missing their warmth.  Anna shrugged off her leather jacket, exposing the loose low-cut grey teeshirt beneath, and placed it on the back of the chair he pulled out for her.  Indecision made her hesitate--eyes still roaming about the room they were in as if eager to memorize the details.  But she was here for the music, after all, to hear him play.  That was the whole point of being here, wasn't it?  She did not sit until he had already begun to play, one leg crossed over the other.

The tune made her smile.  Anna, too, thought of the sneaking game played in the dark with the guard.  For a few moments, she sat in silence, watching his fingers skillfully move over the guitar.  She leaned, propping an elbow on the table off to her side, settling her jaw against her thumb, and curling her fingers against her cheek.

"Do you sing?"  she asked quietly, breaking her silence.  It wasn't necessarily a request for him to sing, but rather a curiosity.  In her human years, it was part of her private lessons.  It was a rarity for her to sing now, much less in front of others.  One would more likely catch her humming softly to herself.

[Trillian]

He was halfway through the prowling music and building it up slowly to its crescendo, when she asked about his singing. He nodded at her and launched into the introductory strains of Wicked Game. He chose if for two reasons; it was ironically apt between the two of them and his voice was similar enough to Chris Isaak's that he could sing it comfortably.

He started out mostly looking at his guitar before lifting his eyes and staring at Anna. At the final lyric 'nobody loves noone' he lowered his gaze to the floor while singing it, unable to say something like that to her, even as part of a tune.

He put the guitar back down in its spot, feeling suddenly embarrassed. It wasn't a feeling he was used to and he didn't care for it.

[The Cedar Witch]

They'd exchanged words so minimally until this point, Anna hadn't been able to fully appreciate the timbre in his voice until now.  She was so immersed in the sound that she paid little mind to the words until the end of the chorus.  It was a familiar song, she'd heard it before, something common to romance films (not that she'd watched many, of course).  She never really bothered to listen to the lyrics when she caught snippets, but in this setting, she felt compelled to. 

Warm blood flooded her cheeks--when was the last time she'd blushed?  With a glance away from him she quelled it, a more serious expression sitting almost out of place on her face.  She had been serenaded before, but that was a long time ago and the musician was considerably less...interesting.

The intimacy of the moment caused a swell of intensity in her chest and something that felt like guilt.  Her eyes were fixed on the guitar, willing it to become a distraction from the strange sensation, from memory lurking just out of sight.  She looked up when he had finished, surprised when he put the guitar back.

A vague sense of disappointment and relief mixed strangely in her face. 

"You have a lovely voice," the remark was uncharacteristically soft, but it was better than a strange sort of silence between them following the song.  Anna found herself frustratingly disarmed, wondering if coming here was a mistake.

What do you want?

[Trillian]

Decker smiled at her compliment, tilting his head slightly to the right. His eyes turned that way before he turned his head. His studio lay in that direction, as did his bedroom. He hesitated, then looked back at her and approached with his hand reaching out.

He intended on showing her his studio - where he recorded his music and his audio work. It would be a brief glance, he supposed. She likely had no interest in such things. The next room was his bedroom and if they went there then he would watch her reaction, to see if she gave it a cursory look or a lingering one. He didn't know which reaction he wanted. Better not to hope or plan for anything.

"I don't talk a lot, except for work," he said. He thought about saying more, expressing his opinion on meaningful conversations and how too many people had lost the ability to have them. He couldn't think of how to phrase it, so he just stared at her. If she took his hand then he would get them moving.

[The Cedar Witch]

Perhaps too eagerly, she laced her fingers with his and stood.  Her expression was thoughtful as he spoke and her eyes lingered on his lips as they moved.  The memory of his taste was still fresh, and she found herself wanting again.

Anna wondered at his self-disclosure of not being a talker--was there a reason?  He didn't strike her as the shy type, nor did he seem dim-witted by any means.  Western society was full of a frenzy of useless din these days, it was a rarity to find one more selective in speech.  She was more than accustomed to verbal dances with her upper-class peers.  Empty words, empty laughs, rubbing elbows, and strutting colorful tailfeathers to see who could best play the game.  An entirely different world than the one she was in right now.

A world she didn't intend to return to anytime soon.

"Work?"  Was it something with guitar, or was that just a hobby?  She couldn't imagine him doing anything else but lurking in art galleries or creating music.  But of course, there was more to his life than that.  Would she ever know the scope of it?  Did she want to?  Was his mention of not talking an indication that he didn't want to?  Asking him questions may feel like too much prodding, but she was so very curious about him (though she felt foolish for it in the same breath). 

[Trillian]

Her question came just as they reached the doorway to his workroom. He made a murmur in the positive and stepped into the room itself so she could see the equipment with dials and his laptop, PC and desk with a coffee-stained coaster on it. A book titled 'Call Of The Ocean' was near the corner of the desk - its spine showed it had been well-read. Other than the things that needed to be there, it was bare.

"I get voice-over work for commercials or I create audio book files," he said, gesturing with his free hand at the nautical themed adventure book on his desk. "The work pays well when I get it," he said, because there'd been a lull lately.

He watched her for signs of interest or boredom... but mostly because he liked looking at her.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna looked around the room with mild interest, feeling more distracted by the warmth between her fingers.  It was fascinating that one who didn't talk much would take work dealing exclusively with that very thing.  Did he enjoy it, or was it a simple monetary necessity? 

Her eyes were drawn to the 'Call Of The Ocean' at least twice.  "Is the book any good?"  Her fingers wiggled slightly in his hand as if minorly restless.

[Trillian]

Decker watched how she took in the studio, her gaze resting on the equipment. He saw how they travelled to the book before she asked about its worth.

"I liked it." He would normally stop there for most people, but expanded on his answer for her. "It's beautifully written. There's one character, lots of introspection and a gradual reveal of the type of man he is. I could relate."

The character, John, had been the kind of man who fixed problems for others, including those that were criminal. This wasn't made obvious until halfway through the story. He liked that John wasn't overwhelmed by regret but Decker hadn't liked how the ocean was the only love John had. It had been too close to the truth for his liking.

But now, things had changed. Or had it? Anna could be the ocean. Beautiful. Powerful. Secretive. Deadly.

He left the room and took her into his bedroom. He didn't let go of her hand but with his free hand he toyed with the top button of his shirt, wanting to unfasten it. His heartrate picked up, though it was slight he thought she might notice. His gun was an uncomfortable weight at his ribs now and he wanted his holster off. Perhaps she would do it for him. Looking at her to see what she thought he realised he'd already undone the first button and his hand had dropped to the second.

Presumptuous. So much for seeing what she thought. What happened to not rushing things because he didn't want her to get her fill of him and never return? He wanted her too much to wait, though he could if that was what she wanted. It would almost be a relief.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna made an interested sort of noise that was akin to a musical hm.  They valued the same sorts of things in a book, it seemed.  The idea of listening to his velvety voice read this book aloud--for her--flashed suddenly through her mind.  Was this a fantasy?  How embarrassing.  Hopefully, there wasn't color rising to her cheeks again.

Who are you?
What are you thinking?

She shifted her fingers between his, wanting the soothing feeling of friction on her skin.  Was it touch she craved?  Intimacy?  Something to fill the void left by Nadia, surely.  What a weakness--hadn't she routed it out yet?  The only thing she needed was blood.  Everything else was secondary.  An uncomfortable lightheaded feeling clouded her mind.

While being brought to Decker's bedroom shouldn't have come as a surprise, it did.  Thoughts raced through her mind more rapidly than she could decipher them, threatening to push her toward a kind of minor panic.  Somewhere the sound of his fingers moving against the fabric of his shirt registered in her mind, but it was the uptick in heart rate brought her back to the moment and silenced the thoughts.  Anna turned to look at him.

Her fingers were on the second button before she even realized that she released his hand and stepped in front of him.  A quick motion, perhaps startling for him.  Her expression was full of a guarded desire as she undid the buttons of his shirt at a human's pace.  She glanced between his eyes and lips, undecided.

[Trillian]

He meant to kiss her gently, he really did, but the way she was looking at him drove something primitive inside and he ducked down and pressed his lips hard to her mouth, wanting to feel her as well as kiss her. His hand curled around her waist to her back, another embedded in her hair, fingers slipping through silken strands before he bypassed her nape and held the back of her head. Tasting her in a different way to how she'd tasted him. There were other ways, too.

He could feel his shirt was unbuttoned now but he was loathe to stop touching her, holding her and be consumed by her - though her clothes, as lovely as they looked on her, were an obstacle to her flesh. He sacrificed his touch on her to change his focus to separate her from her clothing. He also wanted to drive them to the bed and she would have to allow it for him to get them to the foot of it. So many things, all at once, and all on partial concentration because his attention was fully on her.

[The Cedar Witch]

Where she expected indignant feelings to bloom, there was only the hint of release with the promise for more.  She leaned into each touch, meeting the force of his kiss.  It would be easy to heighten things to a fever pitch in her way, but there was something pure and organic without using those abilities.  It brushed against something familiar, something that she simultaneously wanted and felt repulsed by. 

What does it matter, in the end?

Once her fingers had finished with the buttons, her hands moved across his skin beneath the shirt.  His warmth--though it was more hot than warm--would have been too much had she not just fed.  She felt herself moving backward toward the bed and she did not resist, passion and urgency gathering in their kiss.  The backs of her legs pressed against the foot of the bed and she broke away from him and sat on the edge.  Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips and rested on the gun still strapped to his body.

[Trillian]

She went with it and Decker continued his touches, their pace. When she sat and he stood over her it didn't feel right. He frowned minutely before her gaze moved to his weapon and his hands went to the harness, unbuckling it. The bedside drawer where he kept his gun was too far away and he lowered himself to his knees, putting harness and pistol gently on the floor, shoving it slightly under the bed where it couldn't be stepped on.

His torso was naked, she was fully dressed. He sought to change that though his pace changed. After the gentle placement of the gun, he touched her reverently - not delicately or as if she was fragile, but his hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms or up her sides depending on where the clothing needed to go to come off her.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna intently watched him remove the harness and lower himself to the floor.  The sight of him on his knees for the third time that evening gave her a little thrill.  But she was impatient for his touch again, and anxious to feel his skin against her lips.

Once he touched her sides her hands moved over his, guiding the movement of her shirt over her head.  The garment fell to the floor on the side of the bed.  There was no bra beneath to provide another obstacle, the shirt's removal revealing hardened nipples at the apex of shapely breasts.  Anna reached forward and pressed her hand into the side of his neck.  She searched his eyes briefly before moving her hand to the back of his head, fingers twisting through his hair, and crushing her lips to his.