MARCUS - washing away the dirt

[Marcus O'Conner]

Your heart, your heart understands mine
†FOUND IN FORBIDDEN NIGHTS†

†SHARPEST LOUD AND PLACE IS QUIET†

Know the promises we make

He didn't even realize, not until he was already crouching in front of the movies, that he'd completely ignored her question as to whether he needed a shower or something. He'd already washed away all of the blood on him, had already gotten rid of the evidence if only to hide it from her... His forehead fell to the outreached arm, resting against his bicep a moment as he took a deep breath in through his parted lips. The adrenaline was still rushing through his system- pumping his blood at that increased rate that could so easily threaten to turn into something else. The wolf at least had been silent, had remained where he needed him to be since they'd stepped through Victoria's front door. He didn't think he could handle hearing that voice that he so instantly recognized now, when he wasn't dealing with something more pressing- something as consuming as dealing with those men had been. To hear it now would be... God and all the holies... could he even talk to Tobias about that? Wasn't that some form of madness? He'd never heard anyone refer to the wolf inside talking to them. Not Osiris or Amina.. and certainly not Travers with her strange views on their affliction. He inhaled again, dragging the familiar scents deep into his lungs- holding it there before releasing it just as slowly, eyelids flickering open as he lifted his head, once more perusing the movie choices. He could hear her, in the kitchen, moving around and boiling the water, could hear her getting things out of her cupboard. And it did soothe him somewhat, the awareness that she was... functioning now. Even if her heartbeat was still elevated, body clearly indicating that she too had yet to calm down from the evenings earlier ...events. Merlin... He'd never- he'd worried sure about her walking that distance home at night. Just the vague sort of worry that came with it though, not this dread that seemed to settle so firmly within him now. It had been the 'well anything can happen' sort without any real- settled idea as to what anything meant even in his mind. Anything hadn't consisted of three men cornering her and looking at her with such violent, twisted desire. Anything hadn't involved Vic red faced and sobbing into her own hands as she tried to distance herself from the threats closing in on her. Anything certainly hadn't involved her coming close at all to actually being hurt... His stomach twisted again, unwanted images invading his brain- showing him just what could have happened had he not gotten there when he did. What could come of her walking home alone again. Ever. She wouldn't be doing that ever again.

His head cocked slightly, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen and shaking his head slightly. He knew she was struggling, he could hear and smell the telltale signs that indicated it. The ripping and the spilling certainly didn't set him at ease any either. Fuck, he didn't know what to do. With Tobias and Amina it was easy, they were pack and he knew how to handle their freakouts or changes in mood- admittedly one was more likely than the other to have them. Not that he didn't consider Victoria just as important to him- or just as close... in different ways. She was just... Red, and the difference in their dynamic changed... everything- it made it so much easier for him to fumble over things that would normally be no issue. Like her showering. Or the worry that he would scare her away with his dual nature, or the propensity for it showing. He tried so hard to be normal around her, to be as human as possible. No growling, playfully or otherwise. No side remarks made in jest about it. He didn't show too much of his strength, or let on that he could sense things that he normally wouldn't have been able to. He worked so hard at it, tried his best. And this one night might have ruined all of that altogether. Just because she wanted him here now didn't mean that when she calmed down in a few hours that the same would hold true. Maybe it was his awareness of that that was clouding his mind- rendering him unable to decide whether he should go in there and help her. Maybe she needed to do that for herself, but it could be just as true that him leaving her to it on her own was hindering instead of helping. Why it was so different than him carrying her here was beyond him- he just didn't know. Weren't there articles on this? Rules? He was going to have to start snagging some of Amina's magazines. Maybe replace a few of the comics on the back of the toilet with them instead. They had to have some sort of advice in them... though maybe not for this particular situation. He blew a quick breath out, randomly snagging a variety of movies that he was sure wouldn't have any triggers in them- good standbys that he could always turn to. Peter Pan... he loved that movie. Both versions of it- although the cartoon version was at his house not her apartment... he'd have to remember to have that one played at their next group movie night... He stood more slowly than he would have, trying to force some normalcy into his system as he rolled his shoulders, straightening out and opening the dvd compartment, popping the case open and removing the disk one handed while he slid the other dvds he'd picked out on top of the dvd player itself.

He didn't even turn back to Victoria until he had placed the disc into the tray, sliding it shut and letting the start up previews roll as he made his way into the kitchen, ignoring the powdered dust from... hot chocolate. That's what he'd been struggling over... he felt like an ass for leaving her to it, but she'd managed right? That was important. It meant that she was at least set on doing so... which felt like it should be a positive thing. His lips curled upwards as he caught her gaze, holding it briefly before passing behind her to get to the little pantry area, opening it and not even pausing to look at the contents before his arm lifted up to the uppermost shelf- mostly covered by the overhang of ceiling that was there. She'd complained on more than one occasion that it had no use seeing that she couldn't even see up there, much less reach... Crinkling sounded from above as his fingers found their target, pushing it down into his other awaiting hand as he began searching again. Cheesy chex mix. He probably should have told her that he was hiding her groceries from her specifically for movie nights... but when he'd done it it had been with the knowledge that he'd be coming back and getting it down for her anyways... more plastic rustling sounds as he pushed a few more items down, gathering them up in one arm close to his chest and turning with a sheepish smile. “Need help wit' ta mugs Red?” He still had a free hand, and if she was too shaky he could always rearrange this holding situation until he could grab both from her. He was wearing a hoodie after all... he could always just shove the goodies down into that and take the mugs from her. Although, he could also probably get his wand between his teeth and have some of them float... maybe. Possibly. It would certainly be a challenge.

( OUTFIT )  here
( WORDS ) 1,289
( TAGGED ) Victoria, Dead Men
( BANNER ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0
( LYRICS ) Head Is Not My Home; Ms Mr
( LAYOUT ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0

[Victoria Abernathy]

The longer Victoria found herself staring at that packet, the better she was feeling. Mostly because she was forcing it to. She had to. She wasn't going to cry again. There was nothing wrong with her. She hated that she was generally the one to start bawling with the least provocation. She really was stronger than that, at least she wanted to be. She was okay. Even if she wasn't, Marcus was here. He'd just...her eyes widened. He'd just...protected her. Of course she had heard what had happened, and of course he had carried her home, made sure that she was safe. But there was, something else. The implications that she hadn't even considered. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, the urge to call Amina becoming stronger by the second. Of course she had thanked him...but was that enough? He had really protected her, because he hadn't want her hurt. Then again...he was the sort of person who would protect any of his friends. He was kind like that, it was one of the many things that she liked about him. He was staying, because she had asked him to. - And just like that the hope that had threatened to build within her chest despite the situation, died back down once more.

She could hear him moving as her hands moved to brush some of the chocolate powder off of the counter and onto her cupped hand, it wasn't working very well. Most of it was making it onto the floor or her slippers, but she was trying anyway. He moved closer, she could hear the whirring of the DVD, should she be attempting to offer him something? She didn't think that she had anything to offer him...hence the last of the hot chocolate. He said nothing as he reached above their heads. Her eyes followed his hands. What was he doing? If he was going to make comments about her lack of dusting...at a time like this...she might just cry again after all. She nibbled nervously at her lower lip, waiting for some sort of teasing comment to come out of his mouth, but it never came. Then there was crinkling, what the hell was he doing? Then his hands produced bags of snacks. Snacks that had gone missing, that she had convinced herself that she must not have ever actually bought because they had gone missing so long ago. He had been hiding them this whole time? Her lips pursed, but she said nothing on the matter. She would have plenty to say on the matter at a later time, of course. Her hands slapped together, sending the chocolate flying his direction on purpose.

“Need help wit' ta mugs Red?” She shook her head. “No, I can manage.” she tried to offer him a smile, but she feared that it might have come off as just some meek middle ground as far as expressions go. She could hear the menu of the DVD that he had chosen, and it was oddly comforting to her. She loved movies more than she should have. Just like the books she tended to cleave to, they could transport her away. Take her to wonderful places, it was why there wasn't a horror or action flick in the lot. Lots of colorfully filmed, imaginative things. It was just fortunate that Marcus never seemed to mind her collection, sitting through them every week. He had to of seen the whole lot more times than he cared for, but it wasn't like she could buy new ones around here. She eyed the collection of snacks in his hands while grabbing one mug in each of her own before heading toward the small couch she had positioned opposite the equally small couch. Most of what she had was modest, not because she had meant for it to be...but it was just what was cheapest. Whenever he had leased the place...her concern had mostly just been function, purpose rather than style. She set the mugs on the ground in between where their feet would go, slipping her feet out of her slippers as she curled them up by her side, poking them just between the cushions and the arm of the couch. Her hands held themselves expectantly toward the cheesy mix she had bought almost two weeks ago. She should have guessed this, she had started the search for them shortly after Marcus had come over one night. Had she the energy, or perhaps just the mood...she might have commented on it. She might have attempted to tease him about it until he had pinned her to the couch, tickling her ribs until she couldn't breath. It was a common enough occurrence, but tonight wasn't the night for stuff like that. Even as she felt her shoulders resting against his torso out of nowhere, even as her hands pulled open the bag, knew he was going to start searching for the remote in only a moment, but at least she was starting to feel a little better.

---

Wearing:This|Words:844|Notes: Post City!

[Marcus O'Conner]

Your heart, your heart understands mine
†FOUND IN FORBIDDEN NIGHTS†

†SHARPEST LOUD AND PLACE IS QUIET†

Know the promises we make

On another night he might have laughed at the expression that came over her face once she realized what he’d been doing up in the top of her cabinets. Might have told her it was her own fault for not thinking to look up there- or for having been devoid of snacks at least twice when he was over- because really who didn’t stay stocked on snacks? If that ever happened at their house there might actually be anarchy of some sort- he might even have said something about it being all for him anyways. But even though the mood wasn’t quite as heavy as when they’d first stepped into the apartment, there was still that lingering… linger. Fuck. This is why he had Amina and Tobias. They fixed his shit for him, explained things and helped move them along. Whereas he just sort of bumbled through what he could and hoped for the best outcome. And somehow that seemed like it was falling awfully short of what she needed right now. Awfully short of what he owed her considering what had just happened and his part in it. He ignored the very thin veil of chocolate dusting that clung to him from her ministrations, half-assed crooked grin covering his features as he shook his arms just slightly. ”No, I can manage.” Because smiles that weren’t exactly smiles were what was on the agenda for the night- he just nodded, ignored the urge to try and push his finger to the corner of her lips and push it up into something that looked more real on her features. He liked it so much better when she smiled- when the creasing of dimples around her lips appeared, teeth poking out from between her lips as she fought back her laughter. That was safe, familiar. Even her half smiles nearly overtaken by the fact that she was blushing was more welcoming than what she’d just sent him- but it was also a good deal better than earlier so… that was good right. Christ and all the holies. He rearranged the things in his hands, following her as she turned and headed back into the living room, his body on an autopilot that he wasn’t about to start to try and question. Familiar footing. Familiar path. Again the juggling of the objects in his hand as he passed her the cheese mix he knew she was asking for as she settled into the couch, careful of the mugs on the floor as he moved onto the couch with her, sliding across the seating until he could angle his body half behind hers, one arm opening and curling around the back of her as he did so. Familiarity he could manage, even if the rest of it was still on a near constant loop through his mind.

He pushed the ball of his foot up off the floor, stretching it until it was across the couch to his side, knee hanging over the edge as he bent his free arm just enough to grab at both of the mugs, setting them precariously on his curled knee with a sideways glance at the girl curled into his side. He wasn’t exactly aiming to spill them, but the concern on her features as they wobbled in what seemed to be a precarious manner had him smiling slightly, less forced as his free hand moved to push around between cushions, coming up with the black rectangular remote and placing it just behind the cups as he grabbed at his and positioned it into a safer position between his legs before looking to hers. “Ye want me ta hold yers?” If she didn’t have the room he could find somewhere better than the floor for her to get at it, bending over repeatedly would only end up jostling them in the end and he knew from experience that led to spilled snacks. And sometimes spilled people over the couch. Depending on who it was doing the jostling. His hand was poised to grab at the remote, planning to press play and stop the theme music that played behind the home screen of the DVD before he paused. He wanted to apologize. He did. And before he got relaxed enough to forget about it. Or managed to talk himself out of it for whatever reason. Convince himself that it wouldn’t help anything. He hadn’t… hadn’t meant to scare her- hadn’t wanted her to see him like that, hadn’t wanted to provide any extra fear stimuli than what she had already been dealing with when he got there. But it had been instinctual, that need to protect her. She was Red for Chrissake. She was Red and she’d been being threatened and neither he nor his wolf could handle that in a manner other than what they’d gone with- in what they’d felt compelled to do. He didn’t think he’d take well to seeing any female in that situation- especially not one he cared about. Couldn’t fathom handling it being Amina or even the females of his acquaintance that he wasn’t as close with. Couldn’t fathom it being them but it being Vic was just… so much worse, for any multitude of reasons. Knowing that she was that unprotected. That there were things like that that could happen to her. It was enough to make him feel physically ill, stomach churning despite the very real desire he still held to dig into that cheese mix.

She was Vic. That was all there was to it, the long and the short of it. “Red,” his voice was somewhat strained, hesitance evident even though his arm tightened slightly without thought, pulling her closer as if he was afraid she was going to jump up and run off still. “Aye--- Aye’m so sorry. Fer scaring ye. For— all of it," he finished lamely. Fucking shite. He couldn’t even get the apology right, couldn’t word it right or get across just how sorry he was. His breath gusted out from his lips in defeat- ruffling the red curls on the top of her head as he moved his chin from side to side slightly.

( OUTFIT )  here
( WORDS ) 1,030
( TAGGED ) Victoria, Awkwardness
( BANNER ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0
( LYRICS ) Head Is Not My Home; Ms Mr
( LAYOUT ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0

[Victoria Abernathy]

On any other night, she might have paused to wonder at the meaning of how they were sitting. Might have been sitting here, stomach all in knots while second guessing the placing of her hands every few seconds. Tonight just, tonight wasn't that night. She couldn't think about those things without thinking about hands in general and she didn't want to go there. She wanted to focus on the movie, and the snacks, and the body heat helping to keep her calm. He normally did. She had always been the sort of person to work well around others, to feel more comfortable in a group than by herself. Sadly, she was just mostly by herself. “Ye want me ta hold yers?” “Hmm? Wha- no, I'm good,” Distracted, but of course she was distracted. It was natural, she had read about this sort of thing. Even though she was still in training, she knew how to handle people in shock, and she didn't think that she was in shock so much, but she was definitely shaken. For sure. At least her rock was here. Fuzzy rock. Like a chia pet. Hah, he wouldn't care much for that reference would he? Still, it was making her smile and that was something at least. Just sit here and forget. That was a step. Get back to normal, nothing had even happened...to her, not really. She didn't even know how to broach the subject of how he was feeling. She hadn't known Marcus to ever be a violent man, and he couldn't have been okay with doing those things. Even if it was for a good reason.

Whenever he paused on his path to the remote though, obviously something was still troubling him. She had always thought of him as such a strong person, so much life, so fun. It wasn't easy, seeing him like this. “Red,” Her round blue eyes lifted up to Marcus' face, totally oblivious to the cheese powder already sticking to her fingers. She hated that she was the reason he was so upset. His arm tightening around her, nerves? Because he wanted to? No, that couldn't be it. They were just friends. Obviously. “Aye--- Aye’m so sorry. Fer scaring ye. For— all of it," For scaring her? He hadn't scared her, hopefully he could see that on her face. She was scared, yes. Just, not of him. She was scared of the monsters. Scared of those men that weren't going to leave her be, who had seemed like they really wanted to hurt her despite not knowing anything about her, despite having no reason to. Alcohol or not, they had wanted to hurt her. Her red curls shook around her face, damp locks sticking to the skin of her face as she said no, not sure if she should hug him or not, he was usually the one to start that sort of thing. “You didn't scare me.” he mumbled, her chin pushing into his body as she spoke, even thinking about something that simple was going to send her in a tizzy. So she just wasn't going to. “They scared me....” her throat felt tight. “You saved me.” It was the truth. He was always saving her, in one way or another.

She reached over him to the remote that he hadn't quite managed to use, she didn't know how to reassure him, to make him feel better for to possibly thank him properly in any way than she already had. He hadn't seemed like he believed her the first time. Her hands were still shaking. Too many things. That wasn't fear as she fumbled over the buttons, finally managing to hit the play button but she couldn't hear it, the screen fading from the menu to the opening credits, the face that looked so very familiar to the man sitting beside of her, she knew he would be showing up soon. Where she would normally make comments about how handsome he was in as veiled a way as possible to compliment Marcus on their similarities, she didn't know what else to say.

---

Wearing:This|Words:687|Notes: Post City!

[/quote]

[Marcus O'Conner]

Your heart, your heart understands mine
†FOUND IN FORBIDDEN NIGHTS†

†SHARPEST LOUD AND PLACE IS QUIET†

Know the promises we make

He was sorry. So sorry. How was he supposed to explain it to her though, try and tell her it was okay, that he wasn’t a monster? That he didn’t want to be a monster? When he so obviously was. Victoria was his bit of normal, even now that she knew what he was, she was still- normal. Not that he didn’t like having Amina and Tobias not be- Christ and all the holies he wasn’t even explaining it correctly to himself. It wasn’t that Tobias and Amina were weird or anything, although they could be, that wasn’t differentiation in his head. Amina and Tobias were both a part of that other world, the one that was connected to him getting all bestial and furry and growing enough in size so as to actually be an immense creature of the night. Like he’d come straight out of some fantasy driven television series. Only the screen play writers of those things could never actually imagine the horror of turning into one, tried to dress up and romanticize what their minds, minds that had never actually been touched by the reality or even the possibility of that reality being true, tried to come up with to explain the myths and legends. Tried to make it seem like there was something noble about all of your bones breaking in on one another and reshaping into a monstrous creature. He tried not to talk about it like that with Amina, talked about the animal inside of them plenty often enough, but otherwise remained mute. He didn’t think she was an animal, it wasn’t the same. What made it so different he couldn’t quite put into words. Osi even- it was just different. Maybe it was how he had been changed, the first few changes he’d undergone. Maybe it had something to do with the blood that he came from. Or the woman who’d orchestrated it all. He’d discussed it haltingly with Tobes a few times, run the angles by him- but the thing that scared him the most, that worried him the most, was that maybe it was because there was something wrong with his brain already, something off that had just been exacerbated by the change he’d undergone. That it was him that was really the monster beneath what he changed into. The monster within the monster. How could he apologize for that, explain that? To anyone? Tobias and Amina were a part of that at least, could understand and connect to it on a certain level. They allowed him to… be completely himself without fear of judgment or repercussions.

It wasn’t that he feared the same wouldn’t be true of Red either. That wasn’t the issue. With her though, they didn’t talk about his change, they didn’t discuss differences or – it just didn’t come up. Never seemed to come up. And he knew that part of that was him watching. Even now that she knew, being sure not to do anything too out of the ordinary or lapse into the kind of commentary he could make with his other two friends. She was his sense of normality. Was- was what should have been, was easy and natural as breathing. He didn’t regret stepping in. He didn’t regret stopping them or even, on some level, the number of things that he’d had to do to stop it. He regretted the violence. He regretted the anger. He regretted most the fact that she’d seen it, that he had frightened her. So he could apologize for that. Could honestly apologize for it and just- take whatever came of it. If she came to her senses and decided she’d rather have Amina here or decided that she wanted to pretend it had never happened. He would do whatever she wanted, he could do that, owed it to her. Was on the verge of voicing that too when she shook her head- stopping the words in his throat. No? No she wasn’t accepting his apology? No she didn’t want to hear it? A brief moment of panic as he looked down at her face, swallowing thickly at the lack of condemnation he found there. At the sincerity the lit under her features. “You didn't scare me.” Blinking. Like some sight blinded fool, it was all he could manage, afraid for a second that he’d misunderstood her- sure that he must have, but no. She’d said it. He’d heard correctly. Which meant he should be questioning her sanity or making sure that she hadn’t somehow bumped her head during the shower or… “They scared me… You saved me.” Or swallowing thickly again as he continued to speak, his arm tightening once more, pulling her more firmly into his side because again he was reminded of what could have happened if he hadn’t been there- because he was so fucking happy that she was here and still in one piece and even if she’d been scared of him for life it would have been worth that. He cleared his throat, his fingers brushing over her shoulder as he let out the breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding while she spoke.

Saved her. He wouldn’t phrase it like that, but the fact that she thought it was enough. “Aye’m still sorry Red.” For the fact that it had happened at all. For any number of things still. Just because she said she wasn’t scared of him, just because she smelled of truth and seemed sincere- it didn’t exactly change… he wasn’t going to think about it. She was reaching over him anyways, making the skin she wasn’t quite in contact with hum with the nearness as she pulled the remote over to herself, clumsily starting up the movie. And even though she wasn’t looking at him and he probably should have done it earlier his arm curled more completely around her again, his other moving from his side so he could wrap it as well around her thin frame and push his face into the top of her head. “Aye’m glad aye was around Red.” Squeezing her once before allowing his other arm to go back to his side, shift slightly further down into the couch and relax the arm that was still curled around her. “An’ I promise not ta make fun of ye fer still havin’ a thing fer Peter Pan- even though he’s a wee lad now an’ yer… no’a’all old yerself,” he stumbled over the last bit, a grin almost ghosting over his lips.

( OUTFIT )  here
( WORDS ) 1,030
( TAGGED ) Victoria, Awkwardness
( BANNER ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0
( LYRICS ) Head Is Not My Home; Ms Mr
( LAYOUT ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0

[Victoria Abernathy]

It had been more than a little shock, finding out what he was. Even though she had found out about Amina first, and that had been...well. It had taken her a lot of time in the library to process what that even meant. Even Amina said that she was still learning about it, because it had happened so very recently, and then Marcus following suit. It had seemed like somehow she had managed to surround herself with them, the wolves. It probably would have been even more difficult if she hadn't known them so long. If she wasn't so used to seeing their human faces, and knowing them as normal people. Her friends. It wasn't like they had shifted in front of her. Then she might have been scared. As it was, she still hadn't even seen them anything other than human. Sure, now she knew why Marcus ran a little hotter than the others, she knew why his facial hair always seemed to grow extra fast and why he got weird around full moons. It answered a lot of questions but he was still just Marcus to her. Never had seen him as anything else. Now, as of tonight, she could say that she had heard a little evidence, the growling...but she wasn't scared. Not of him. Those men, they had scared her. Still scared her. Perhaps she was just foolish. Until that time came that she was proven wrong, she was going to continue to think that he was still just her Marcus. Human Marcus. Human and warm who was pulling her closer, wrapping his arm around her, no doubt just making sure she was safe. Making sure that she wasn't shaking anymore because she knew that it couldn't have been anything else. He put his arm around her often enough to know there wasn't any other meaning behind it. Even if she often wanted there to be.

“Aye’m still sorry Red.” She nodded, her hair brushing against his shirt, oddly noisily. Damned curls. She took the excuse to push her face closer to his shoulder, “Okay,” Maybe he needed to apologize for him, to make himself feel better than that was fine. It couldn't have been easy. Doing what he did. He had done it for her, she had made him, somehow, and maybe she should feel more guilty for that. Maybe she should be the one apologizing for being stupid enough not to call ahead and tell him that she had been working late. Stupid enough to try to walk herself home because nothing had ever happened before or thinking that since the street lamps were still lit and she was in the wizarding community that nothing bad was going to happen to her. For thinking that with all her smarts and knowledge of spells that she was going to have been safe but she wasn't because she had frozen. Because she had just stopped and cried whenever things had gotten bad. The exact opposite of what was safe for her to do. What was wise even, and she thought that she was smart. Apparently she was just a foolish, naive little girl. The thoughts running through her head almost had her crying again. Her lips pressing together as she worried at the bottom of her sleeve, trying not to burden him any further but maybe...maybe she should be apologizing, maybe she should have done something else...her nerves and second guessing were going to eat away at her. She could already feel it building, her body tensing one muscle at a time.

Maybe he could tell. His arms tightened around her once more, her eyes drifted closed as she leaned into him, unaware that she was even doing it. His other arm wrapping around her front and she could have sighed with the wave of release that she felt. Like soaking in a hot bath after a normal long day at work. His chin bouncing against the top of her head as he spoke. “Aye’m glad aye was around Red.” She hummed in the back of her throat. She was always glad whenever he was around. This time she was just...extra glad, or something. Her eyes didn't open again until his arm removed itself and that wake of cold where it had been settled over her, prickling her skin under the thin fabric of her shirt. “An’ I promise not ta make fun of ye fer still havin’ a thing fer Peter Pan- even though he’s a wee lad now an’ yer… no’a’all old yerself,” He did that on purpose. Her cheeks were flooding red and a whole different sort of tension took hold of her. “Wha? No...I do not....” she squirmed awkwardly, until she wasn't leaning on him nearly as much. “I...it's just a good, well He is....was...still...” her lips pressed together, fumbling over her words like an idiot. Pull it together Vic. “You look a lot like him, you know.”

---

Wearing:This|Words:832|Notes: Post City!

[Marcus O'Conner]

Your heart, your heart understands mine
†FOUND IN FORBIDDEN NIGHTS†

†SHARPEST LOUD AND PLACE IS QUIET†

Know the promises we make

“Okay,” It was unbelievable what the one word did to soothe him, stop his muscles from recoiling upon themselves and force him to pull her even tighter to him- he couldn’t do that, he already had her wrapped up with one arm and Merlin only knew if it was helping her at all or the opposite. Okay. Because he needed her to understand, or at least hear with the intent of understanding, that he hadn’t meant… not that he hadn’t meant to step in. Or that he hadn’t meant to hurt those men. He didn’t think he was capable of lying to her even to tell her that he hadn’t. Because the minute that he had identified who it was they were following and heard the crass commentary leaving their lips it had set it off within him- the undeniable rage that he always kept such a tight reign on. The blistering heat from within the very marrow of his bones arcing through his veins. The expression on her face, the saltwater lining it, had only solidified the need he felt to unleash it on the pitiful excuse of monsters that had so poorly tracked her. As if the beast in him weren’t able to do such a better job of it than they had- as if he hadn’t proven that very thing in the moments following. He wanted to feel sick with the knowledge that he’d enjoyed it- did feel sick with the knowledge, it just… wasn’t as much as he felt he should be feeling. Wasn’t as disgusted as much as ashamed. He reviled the fact that he’d enjoyed the blood on his knuckles in the moments following knocking those men out, hated that his disgust with the emotion did nothing to lessen it- didn’t make him hate it as it should have, only made him… more contemptible of his own thought process and his inability to handle it correctly or process the emotions as he felt he ought. His arm tightened around her again at the tensing of her muscles, head dipping further- nose burrowing into her hair as he tried to unobtrusively draw her scent into his nostrils- filtering through the varying emotions, scented bath gel, and flavor that was uniquely all her own. He … like smelling her. As weird as that fucking was, and he was fully aware that was weird- just like he was fully aware that it had just as much to do with him being a wolf as a good many other things he tried to pretend didn’t. Logically he understood that she wasn’t physically injured. None of the blood he’d smelled had been her own- and he’d sniffed at her as unobtrusively as possible often enough since they’d left the scene to know that she didn’t smell like she’d been physically harmed… but the instinct to check was still there, the need to reassure both himself and the wolf inside of him that they hadn’t missed anything and other than her tumultuous emotions she was as well as she would have been if this whole thing hadn’t happened.

If he could tune out the emotions he could both feel and scent rolling off of her he could probably convince himself that it hadn’t himself. In a way he wished he could.

But he couldn’t- and she wasn’t. He was just, struck anew, with the absolute horror of what might have happened if he hadn’t have been there- the vibration in the back of her throat travelling through their connected skin the only thing that brought him out of worrying that line of thought all over again. He didn’t know how to comfort people. Not really. He barely knew how to string a slew of words together in such a serious situation as the one they’d found themselves in. As it was… He didn’t know how he’d made it this far into the whole thing without making an inappropriate joke that he knew really wasn’t needed. He was good at distracting, at deflecting, he’d learned to be. And damned if he didn’t automatically turn to that the moment his mouth began to dry out- the comments about the boy who was already slipping onto the screen fleeing his lips with an almost strained chuckle. Strained that quickly turned to genuine as the scent of her embarrassment flooded the room- his eyes shifting to the side to take in the bright red that had flamed against her still too pale cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching with the ill-repressed attempt to hold in his amusement at her reaction even before she started stuttering out a response. “Wha? No...I do not....” He snorted, nudging her shoulder with his own as he turned his face more fully towards her, lifted brows showing how much he believed that. “Righ’…” Because she didn’t get all weird every time the lad came on the screen. “I...it's just a good, well He is....was...still...” If she wanted to live in some fantasy land where he didn’t know that she had the left-over hots for a little boy in a kids movie that was cool- he wouldn’t let her forget it- but she could live in denial if she wanted. He’d just… casually point it out when he needed a distraction technique… like now. His shoulder shaking with the almost silent laughter at her face and the way the words almost sounded choked from her. Reacting just like he thought she would because with this, at the very least, she was so very predictable. And, unlike if it had been a person they actually knew and not a fictional character, he didn’t have to pretend not to be jealous of the attention she showed him. Didn’t have to face that fact on top of the rest. “You look a lot like him, you know.” His chuckles dying out as he looked from her face to the screen and back again, eyebrows drawing together with a slight frown.

“Red…. Are ye sayin’ tha’ aye look prepubescent?” The feigned hurt on his face all he could do to keep up- because, he was pretty sure, his grin stretching- unless he missed his mark, that in a round about way she had just told him he was attractive. Something that not even the previous events could erase- his teeth flashing in the suddenly too-wide grin he was sporting. “Or are ye tellin’ me aye’m pretty?” His shoulder nudging hers once more with raised brows before his expression suddenly morphed. “OR,” even louder as he dipped his hand into the bowl of snacks, lifting a few out to hold out to her- “are ye sayin’ tha’ aye used ta be pretty? Aye mean, the beard is new an’all,” his free hand coming to scratch at the stubble on his face- crinkling eyes still looking out of their corners at her with his grin twitching in place on his lips. “Bu’ aye kinda like it.” Thumb brushing over the point of his chin as he leveled her with a look. Liked it as in he liked not having to shave every damn day. And he liked that he could wear it. And he liked the way it scraped against people when he wanted it to.

( OUTFIT )  here
( WORDS ) 1,289
( TAGGED ) Victoria, Dead Men
( BANNER ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0
( LYRICS ) Head Is Not My Home; Ms Mr
( LAYOUT ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0

[Victoria Abernathy]

Crap. Double crap. There was a very real chance, thart he was going to put those two comments together, and realized that it was him that she was attracted to, not somebody else. Namely, the person that she had just said looks a lot like him. As much as she would have loved, to push her face into his firm chest once again, she knew that she couldn't. She was just going to sit here, and stare at the screen while her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest until she knew how this situation was going to play out, one way or the other. It didn't feel like he was looking down at her like she had suddenly grown another head. At least, no more so than he did normally. “Red…. Are ye sayin’ tha’ aye look prepubescent?” her face shifted so that she could look up at him, her lips parted in surprise. No, that wasn't the point she was trying to make at all. This was why she should never be allowed to even attempt to flirt. She was mentally kicking herself. “N-no. I just meant...the hair, sometimes...nothing.” she shifted her face back down and grabbed a handful of snacks, pushing them around the palm of her hand to distract herself. Anything was a welcome distraction from thinking. Almost all of the time. “Or are ye tellin’ me aye’m pretty?” Crap. Triple crap. Her breath stopped in her chest and she felt like the mixture of chips and pretzels were sticking to her sweaty palms. What was the matter with her...so couldn't bear to look up at him, knowing that he was teasing her whenever it was something she was, very insecure about. “OR, are ye sayin’ tha’ aye used ta be pretty? Aye mean, the beard is new an’all,” Despite already having snacks, she grabbed more and shoved them into her mouth so that she wouldn't have to answer him. She liked the beard. He liked his face all sorts of ways. Even more so his pretty eyes, now yellow all the time. No more lenses or charms now that they were out of school. She liked the uneven way his facial hair grew. Not that she was going to say any of this, it was mortifying enough to know that he could hear her heart beating out a samba....

“Bu’ aye kinda like it.” She hardly managed a nod, her eyes lifting to his. Just a nod to answer all of his question and to comment on the beard in all one answer. She couldn't explain it, or else she was going to break out into hives, or pass out, or have a nervous breakdown or something...she just couldn't. Instead, she let the full weight of her torso lean into his as comfortable as it was possible and chewed slowly on her snack mix...watching the movie but not actually paying any attention to it whatsoever, her mind was still spinning, she could feel that same aformentioned stubble pushing against her hair since they were breathing on uneven paces, and the steady, strong, thumping of his own heart like a pulse against the back of her head...like her whole body was locked and on overdrive. At least until he relaxed, and the conversation died out slowly, watching the movie in a half comfortable silence until, at some point, probably around the end, but maybe before, she fell asleep. Only knowing that she woke to parts of the movie still on, but it could have been on a loop, and she never would have known, but he didn't move her, or tell her that she was snoring and needed to leave, and that was soothing, all on it's own.

---

Wearing:This|Words:832|Notes: Post City!

[Marcus O'Conner]

Your heart, your heart understands mine
†FOUND IN FORBIDDEN NIGHTS†

†SHARPEST LOUD AND PLACE IS QUIET†

Know the promises we make

“N-no. I just meant...the hair, sometimes...nothing.” He could have left it at that- let her heart and breathing slow down and go back to pretending to watch the movie instead of monitoring her like he was waiting for the drop of the other proverbial shoe. That was what he supposed any sane, normal, functioning person would have done. Let her deal with her things in her own time and her own way. Wasn’t Amina always saying things like that? Only- her embarrassment smelled so much better than her anxiety- the sharp tang of it overtaking the blunted, sour smell of the other and very nearly replacing it. The embarrassment was so much more familiar, so much easier for him to understand than the other- and he figured, rightly so if past experience- even if not in such similar situations- that embarrassment was easier for her to handle than the other as well. Overtook her, replaced everything else, and he wasn’t going to lie and say that his words weren’t partially counting on that, on the exclusion of one for the other. She was embarrassed and the spike of abashed perfume filling the air at his second question had his face nearly breaking in two- because she wouldn’t be embarrassed if she didn’t actually think so, right? He shouldn’t have cared so much about the answer, or even encouraged the want of such knowledge- because he had a plan. He was going to be a good friend. A good friend and only a good friend but there was that part of him that didn’t seem to care about any of that with the slightest bit of provocation to suggest that maybe she thought that he could possibly be other- or was even in the slightest bit attracted to him- and he pushed. Because obviously he was a huge asshole who didn’t know any better- even if his third question was more of the regular sort of teasing he was still paying far too much attention to the way she wasn’t acknowledging him- putting food into her mouth seconds after he had asked as if that would hide the fact that she was dodging it and he… wanted.

He wanted.

And he was stupid and wrong for it and he shouldn’t have been leaning in when she looked up at him but he was- half hoping that she would just say something- even trying to evade it because out of all of the people he knew, she of all of them, seemed to forget that he could scent the lie on her and if she just said one way or another he’d know. He’d know and- his eyes shouldn’t have been straying to her lips- centering on them with the soft, silent head nod in response to… in response to what? Fucking Christ he’d already passed up the pretty question so it couldn’t have been in response to that and she couldn’t be saying that- oh, the beard. Christ and all the holies. The beard. She liked the beard or she liked it on him? He hadn’t phrased it enough to know but he was leaning in again anyways, subconsciously and without proper- real acceptance on his part but if he just… The knot of repressed longing and guilt pulled within his gut as he leant back slowly, fitting his arm back around her shoulders as she leant into him with a small huff that he hoped she was taking as him finding her nod accepting or something- he didn’t know. He was too caught up, when he definitely shouldn’t have been, in his own mind- trying to find a way to downplay the urge he’d had so suddenly to put his lips to her own and the damned reaction that had almost led to him doing it. Even if she wanted- which she didn’t- anything to the contrary was obviously just a lot of make believe and wishing on his part- he couldn’t kiss her. He couldn’t, in any sort of consciousness, do that to her. Do that to their friendship. Couldn’t allow anything to- he was trying to be a fucking good friend and doing a right fuck up of doing so. His free hand passed slowly over his face, dragging down along the planes and his stupid beard as well before going to grasp the cup from between his knees- too long of a draught from it leaving the thing almost empty before he replaced it- relaxing his breathing in an attempt to relax his thought process. This didn’t change anything. At least it didn’t have to. He would just have to be extra vigilant or some nonsense. Stop himself from making any drastic mistakes following. It wasn’t until the movie was nearing its ending that he realized that the body beside him had completely succumbed to the events of the night- head lulling on his shoulder at such an awkward angle that he had to stealthily remove both the bowl of snacks and both of their cups one handed and with very little actual mobility- onto the coffee table before stretching his legs out as far as he was able in front of him-

Short glance over her form making sure that she’d curled up enough into the couch as to not have to warrant taking her to bed- which he probably should- but all selfish agenda aside he wasn’t sure, after everything that happened, that it would be the best idea to move her without her knowing. And she looked comfortable enough- was at least deep enough asleep that he could shift her body just a little more into him- loop his arm down her back instead of her shoulder and allow his head to rest to the top of hers before allowing his own eyes to close- stalwartly promising himself that he would dream of nothing but the game he was going to beat Robert at later this week- finally replacing the top score back with his name… and knowing that he was lying.

( OUTFIT )  here
( WORDS ) 1,289
( TAGGED ) Victoria, Dead Men
( BANNER ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0
( LYRICS ) Head Is Not My Home; Ms Mr
( LAYOUT ) © BRYBERRY of caution 2.0