heart of a small boy

I've been on this earth for nearly 25 years and all I have to show for it is stained hands, anxiety and a secure job as a busboy.

[andreashelfish]

THE KINGDOM WHERE NOBODY DIES

Tagging → Andrea Sheldon and Johnny Arcos Time Frame → Friday Night | October 16th, 2015 Location → Johnny’s Home/Fun Burger General Notes →

Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age The child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.

Andrea finally began to slow down, long after twigs and rocks made her feet bleed and re-heal, bleed and re-heal. She found herself in front of Johnny's, stilling in the walkway. Standing there for several minutes, she finally stepped forward, letting herself in and probably breaking the lock. It came off so easily, she didn't think of it. She knew he was sleeping because she could smell him -- old, but still flesh and something like blood. His room was found that way, and she was at the foot of his bed in seconds. Her first instinct was to call his name, but the sight of veins below his jaw and the ​smell​ clouded everything. She crawled over him, breathing in and biting her lip. Her touches were light as she admired him, but she soon became impatient with herself, holding him down with a metal grip and feeling her canines grow again. Only when she got closer to his face did she pause, eyes watering from warring hunger and emotions. Gripping tighter, she spoke. "Johnny?" She hadn't said a word since she left August's, and after the screaming her voice was left hoarse and rough.

Johnny: Pale eyes snapped open as dreams of hollowness were beckoned away by the call of his name. Someone was on his chest and given the pitch darkness of his room that pale eyes had yet to adjust to, Johnny did not know the someone. It was not a hunter, that much he knew despite the way Someone’s hands were clamped tight around his flesh in ways no one dared to touch him in decades; hunters might be able to climb into bed with him undetected, but why? And there also seemed to be a lack of animosity that hunters usually invoked in him, the emptiness was not rising to the surface like it tended to do nowadays. He sniffed the air and found no scents familiar to old scotch and aged books - the only scent he recognized was blood. So much blood. “Hello,” he said gently, blinking a few times.

Andrea leaned in closer to his face, sniffing and shutting her eyes, picturing the way August's head left his body so she could find some kind of control. "Johnny...this is very bad..." she managed, swallowing and releasing her grip on him a little. "I can't..." she didn't know what to say. She couldn't do a lot of things. Every minute was a switch between anger, hunger and confusion.

Johnny recognized the voice the second time around, listening past the raspiness and the scent of blood to grasp what was most familiar. "Andy?" He sat up and all the lights in his room flew on, illuminating this broken, bloody doll of a woman sitting on his lap with her... dark eyes and long, sharp teeth. "What... This is very bad," he agreed, his eyes going dark and darting all over her frame, looking at all the parts of her bitten, where all the blood was siphoned from. "Andy, try to talk."

Andrea cracked her neck, trying again to control her bloodlust and calm herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but it only came out in heavy breaths and the next thing she knew, she was sobbing. She would look back on this later and be grateful she still had the ability to cry. "I...he..." She pulled her hands back, having no faith in them before wrapping her arms around her slumped form. She stared at a spot next to the bed, telling herself to focus, focus, focus. After what felt like so long, she tried again. "I was with August." The name alone had her feeling like she was going to vomit. "He...we...slept...he wanted me to trust him, with my body," she continued. "And then he did this and everything I forgot came back and everything was so..." She wasn't in a state to find the right words for things. Clutching herself tighter, she finally met Johnny's eyes. "I took his head."

Johnny: "August. Was a..." Johnny tilted his head, letting the statement hang as it was obvious and would do nothing to help Andy at the moment. He could see her, the look in her eyes, the way desperation grew in them. He nodded to her, clasped his hands to her forearms, his fingers brushing at the blood that had begun to dry and flake there. "You took his head. That is alright. You are with me now. I will take care of you." He let his eyes fade to blue again, human again because he thought she might need to see human again. "How do you feel? Angry? Sick? ...Hungry?"

Andrea stared into his eyes, her mouth open as she continued to shake. She couldn't stop shaking. Nodding slowly, she loosened her grip around herself. She was beginning to calm, if only a little bit at the sight of a familiar face in the artificial light of his bedroom. She gulped, only nodding again to indicate that she felt all three of the things he spoke. She also felt dirty, afraid, wronged and...hungry. He'd said that, but it was worth repeating and her mind kept returning to it.

Johnny: "I am going to stand, my raggedy one," he informed her, not breaking their eye contact. "If you come with me, I will help you, I will clean you up and we will get food, yes?" His suggestions were not really suggestions as he was already moving the pair of them - albeit slowly - but they were heading toward the bathroom nonetheless. He did not have to glance at his bed to know that the immaculate white of his sheets and covers were now ruined, but he lamented that he could never seem to keep puddles of blood off of it for more than a month or two. Pity. The shower was already started, so he walked them both into it, clothing and all.

Andrea shut her eyes when they entered the bright bathroom, taking deep breaths before slowly opening them again and stepping into the shower. She faced him, only not entirely, her eyes fixed on the tile floor. She felt her tank top grow heavy against her skin, the only piece of clothing she had on. Not bothering to move her hair as it hung in her face, she tried to take deep breaths and let the hot water overtake her. She still couldn't bring herself to move much. There were no goosebumps on her skin from the change in temperature; even with a constant stream, the warmth felt temporary.

Johnny: It didn't take long to clean her, almost no time to dismiss the shirt off of her with a wave of his hand and he made short work of threading his fingers through her hair and letting the blood run out, his finger absently following a trail of it as it slid along the scar on her back. "Talk to me, Andy. It will help me know what to do next."

Andrea closed her eyes again, telling herself that this was someone she trusted and August was gone now. Decapitated at her hands, the hands she felt she couldn't control, but he was gone. Slowly, she began to cry again, the only thing keeping her present being the feel of his fingers in her hair. "I don't...I don't know who I am." Her voice wasn't back fully, still scratchy and above a whisper. "The whole time, I wasn't thinking like me or acting like me, I was just a...a puppet. I haven't even seen my dad and I was just this bloodbag and I thought I was trusting him with my body -- that's what he said I was doing." The realization that she'd given her virginity to him dawned on her again and the anger boiled beneath her skin, manifesting itself in veins below her eyes, now beginning to glow again. "I didn't want that to happen Johnny. He just took it from me." Reaching up, she gripped his face, the first contact since she pressed him against his bed. "I'm not even me now. I don't get to be me."

Johnny tsked her as if this was a situation to chide a person in, but the witch had never been one to comfort others. He could offer her vengeance, but she had already come in with her hands stained from that and while he understood that this was a violation of her, as a person, as a woman, Johnny found it hard to pull from feelings that were not anger at the moment. "You will always be you. As long as you choose to be," he told her. "No one can take that away from you. Especially not a rotting man. We will set you to rights together, Raggedy Andy. You will see. And you will have control." He didn't bother with the song and dance of summoning a towel for them and drying them off after guiding her out of the shower, he just ​willed​ them dry a second before manifesting clothes on both their persons. "There now," he told her, a smile curling around his lips. He stroked the now dry hair away from her eyes and looked at her carefully. "You still look like you. Come now. We will eat." Then he took her hand and walked out of the bathroom, out of his apartment and into the cool Colorado night.

Andrea nodded again, telling herself his words were true. It wasn't like she ever felt in control before, but what she was feeling now was like a tailspin - everything out of her hands. Her clean hands smoothed the oversized button-down she now wore as a way of keeping them still for a few moments. For the first time, she smiled a little when he assured her she still looked like her. It was so simple but it gave her genuine happiness to hear, and that feeling was so foreign in that moment, she couldn't have been more grateful for it. She followed him outside, twitching a little as she listened to wind pass through three branches and animals scurry nearby and miles away. She could see so clearly, something that felt so unnatural without glasses. "Where are we going?"

Johnny: "We will eat," he repeated, ushering her into the car that had suddenly appeared there. He brushed cat hair from his front seat and sat down, barely putting his foot on the gas before they were taking off down the street. All the while, he talked to her. "I was thinking about you today. It has been a long time since we shared a meal and spent any time together. I had come to the realization that I do not know what television shows you watch and I wish to remedy this." There, he would invoke memory, he would guide her to think of human things, of innocuous entertainment and things she would ground herself with before she became... before she ​Became​.

Andrea sat, fiddling with her fingers and staring straight ahead. Her face kept changing against her will, and it was probably because of the growing emptiness she felt the hungrier she got. Snapping out of it, she looked over at him. "I was..." Instead of mentioning or thinking about being on bed rest, she shook her head. "Well...a while ago I was um, back in that phase I go through where I just watch documentary murder shows. Like ​Children Who Kill​ and ​Snapped​. It's gripping stuff. Oh...and uh, cartoons like Bob's Burgers. Two extremes," she said, laughing a little though it came out as more of a scoff.

Johnny hummed a chuckle, using the excuse of keeping his eyes on the road to keep his gaze forward so she wouldn't see how calculating it was despite the fact that he wasn't given the deadened streets a lick of attention. "Those are the forensic shows, yes? Only that or cartoons... I could be persuaded to watch with you." He rolled his neck; he was tensed and things popped. Then the car slowed and he realized they were in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. He sighed and craned his neck some, his eyes quickly spotting the open sign and the two people working the late night shift. "Food?" he asked, even as he climbed out of the car.

Andrea got out of the car as well, following him inside the Fun Burger she couldn't remember ever going to. The inside was nearly blinding until her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights. The employees shifted out of their slumped positions and into customer service mode at the sight of them. "Hi! Welcome to Fun Burger. Are you ready to order?" The girl speaking to them from behind the register looked no more than twenty, and her co-worker, leaning on the counter behind her was much less enthusiastic. Andrea stood there, folding one arm around her middle and picking her lip as she scanned the overhead menu. Not only did the high-definition images of fast food look unappetizing, they began to make her a little queasy. So she turned her attention to the blonde girl in front of her, all wide face and big eyes. "I'll just...have..." suddenly she found it hard to even finish a sentence. The hunger had been needling at her all night, but now it hurt. Her head was spinning, and the only thing clear to her was the blue vein through pale skin on the gentle curve of her neck. "Um..." she kept trying to finish, but it was impossible. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" the girl asked, looking at Johnny for confirmation. Andrea clenched her fists, biting her lip and feeling the change happen again, only this time welcoming it. Before the girl would even gasp, Andrea flew across the counter, the both of them crashing into the soft drink dispenser before her fangs were sinking into flesh. Pepsi and fruit punch spilled rapidly onto the floor but all Andrea could focus on was the satisfaction of drinking directly from the vein. When she could feel it running out, the thought alone upset her. Snapping the girl's neck, she searched for the co-worker, who was already running towards the parking lot, screaming and crying. She could hear "No," over and over again and somehow the idea of a chase only energized her. She was in front of the boy in seconds, wasting no time on conversation before picking him up by the neck and draining him even faster than his friend.

Johnny walked into the restaurant with hollowed eyes, his intentions clear from the moment he ​willed​ the sight of any security cameras away. It was foolish for Sangren to have a 24-hour access to anything these days anyway he would assure Andrea later. Much later. She was moving fast, partly instinct, partly hunger, all parts desperation. He hated seeing that desperation in her. It was different now, the way she moved, not much different from the way the tiny, dark smoke person moved in her - all reckless limbs and open mouth - but it was different, animal yet not. Demon yet of this world. He supposed that was what vampirism was. He never had an interest in it before now. With a sigh and a strawberry milkshake in hand, Johnny stepped over the young, dead girl, glassy eyes no longer looking at him unsure - no longer looking at anything of this world - and he followed Andy and her meal into the parking lot. She was fast now, so fast, and the way she ate was atrocious, blood everywhere, all over the front of his Calvin Klein button down, so when he reached her and the body, the least he could do was reach out and hold her hair back as she ate.

Andrea dropped his body to the asphalt once he'd grown limp. Standing straight, she calmed. Her eyes returned to their hazel color and her face was as it always was again. Her mouth was covered in blood and so was the shirt she wore, but finally she felt better. Physically, she felt better. "Sorry about your shirt," she said, eventually looking down. "I...couldn't really think for a few minutes there." The satisfaction was so blinding, she didn't think about the two dead bodies or what their names were or the fact that she'd killed them. She'd fed, and it was a good feeling; something she really wanted.

Johnny smiled at her, a real one, unabashed and crooked teeth and his own satisfaction. "It is still better than the shirt you were wearing before, I'm sure." He held his hand out to her. "So now that we have eaten, we can watch... What was it? ​Children Who Kill​. Sounds sinister."

Andrea licked her lips, wiping her chin with her hand and licking it because she couldn't stop herself. She looked at him, matching his smile and taking his hand with her cleaner one so they could walk back to the car. "It's um, like a list thing they did on the E channel. Like a countdown to the grizzliest crime committed by a kid. I don't know why it's so fascinating." She wouldn't compare them to herself.

Johnny didn't reply until they were both in the car again. "Innocence lost is always fascinating."

[andreashelfish]

Hold Me Down

Tagging → Andrea Sheldon [with August Stone] Time Frame → Friday Evening | October 16, 2015 Location → August’s Home General Notes → 

Andrea was so tired. She didn’t know it would take so long to recover from the accident, and while she did enjoy staying with August and sleeping in a bed that felt like a cloud, she wanted to be her old self again. Her old self wasn’t great, but it was nice not feeling drained and weak and hungry every day. She also couldn’t explain the strangeness she felt.

There was no cause for it, but she kept feeling uneasy. August would wait on her hand and foot, and somehow she’d grown to want him. When he used to kiss her it felt forced, now it felt necessary; it felt as though her body thrived off of it. That in itself was unsettling.

“What are you thinking about?” Andrea drew her gaze to where August sat at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. This had been her place for a long time now, recovering and waiting for him to come back to bed. They never did anything but sleep, and it still felt foreign – like she lived there with him in his big house.

“Everything,” she replied, pulling her knees up to her chest under the comforter. “As usual.” He smiled at that, standing to finish undressing for bed.

She scratched her arms, pale and scarred from the accident and IV marks. When she felt him crawl in next to her, warm fingers dancing up her arms, she knew he’d ask again tonight. She liked kissing, and she even liked it when he touched her despite the feeling it wasn’t as good as something she’d imagined. But whenever he wanted to go further, she stopped them. He would word it as “trust.” He wanted her to “trust” him with her body and “trust” him with her whole self. Sex had never been described to her in such a way.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, kissing her shoulder and stroking her arm with his fingers.

“I’m okay. A little sore earlier, but I’m fine now,” she answered honestly.

“I’m happy to hear that. I hate having to worry about you.” Another kiss to her shoulder, followed by another and another. She shut her eyes, biting her lip and feeling – almost fighting – the hunger that overcame her.

Soon her lips were meeting his, roughly pressing and tugging. She could feel his smile against her mouth, and for a second, she thought about how she always felt so fulfilled by it and he always seemed so pleased. It wasn’t bad. It just seemed like an interesting juxtaposition, but she only dwelled as long as the thought lasted.

His skin was hot and she felt recharged by it. It was so strange the way her body reacted to him when her mind was often so slow to catch up to it. But as it continued, she got less and less willing to deny it.

“When you’re ready to trust me, let me know.” He held her face back to say it, his voice a whisper and his eyes piercing (always). She stared at him, thinking about it for a much longer period than she always did. She felt like she should trust him. Like she was meant to.

“Um…I’m ready to trust you,” she said, licking her lips and gazing at his, feeling that little buzz under her skin that said she needed it. He didn’t seem surprised, he merely smiled before leaning in and kissing her again.

He took it slow, easing on top of her and keeping kisses above the waist. When his hands began to grip the edges of her tank top, she stopped him, saying she wanted to trust him, and she would, but she wanted to keep her shirt on this first time. She still wasn’t ready for anyone that wasn’t Johnny to know about the scar. He granted the request, smiling and leaning back up to catch her lips.

She wrapped her arms around him, mentally bracing herself because she had no idea what to expect. But she willed herself to relax and focus on basic touch. He knew she liked to kiss, and he obliged. It was simple and it was easy and it felt good to her. When he entered her, she bit his lip. It was instinctual, and he didn’t seem to mind, but he stilled for a moment.

With a deep breath, she tightened her arms around him as a sign that he could keep going. And he did, a little faster. It went from uncomfortable to okay, her hips beginning to move along with his as she calmed her nerves. His elbows pressed against the bed, his gaze met hers and held it. Finally, his head ducked, lips pressing to the crook of her neck before biting down.

She gasped, but his fingers reached up to graze her mouth. She felt paralyzed for a few moments, yet there was a familiarity to the process as he drank from her. She was terrified until he looked at her, his hand moving to press against her forehead.

“Shhh. It’s okay, I’m here,” he cooed, calming her with his eyes. No matter what, his eyes made her feel like she was floating a little. Untouchable. “Do you trust me, Andrea?”

“Yes.” The word left her mouth before she felt she had time to process. He was still inside of her, hips moving slightly as he brought his wrist to his teeth, snapping into the skin and encouraging her to drink from him. Eyes wide, she indulged, sucking until it began to taste good – until she couldn’t get enough of it. He had to pull away forcefully when her grip tightened too much and teeth clamped down too hard.

She gasped, her eyes moving from his to the ceiling, her body still as she licked the blood off of her lips. Her skin felt cold and hot at the same time, goosebumps rising and falling and making her feel as though she was being electrocuted.

The carvings in the ceiling became more intricate; the room became technicolor and she could hear the sink dripping downstairs in the kitchen. Her senses began to overwhelm her and the situation before her was clearer than ever. More so than her senses, there was one feeling that shadowed everything: Panic.

She knew what was happening and she didn’t want it. She was terrified and confused, and feeling these emotions stronger than she ever had. Trying to process and breathe, she could only panic more and it began to all come together in fierce, burning anger. August could see this, and he was speaking to her, no doubt telling her everything was okay and he was there and these changes were good, but she couldn’t really hear him. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that she didn’t want this, and she never asked for it.

“Why did you…? Who…?” she didn’t know what to ask, but her eyes flashed a bright glowing auburn and she grabbed the sides of his face, breathing heavily. “What did you do?”

“It’s alright, Andrea. It’s alright…” He smiled, leaning in to kiss her. She tried to pull away, but he only kissed her harder, telling her wordlessly “It’s alright, it’s alright” until she began to shake, erupting and flipping them over.

“NO.” The exclamation was so loud, it shook the room. One of his expensive paintings fell off of the wall. It wasn’t alright. His words were empty now, and she realized what had been done to her for last several months. They were not her thoughts, and none of this was done because of her own free will. It was like he was grooming her to be some sick, twisted version of a vampire bride. The worst thing was her rage. It was so strong, she felt as though she couldn’t see through it.

Before she could think, or hear him say anything else, her hands shot to his face again. Pressing him against the bed, still shaking, she thought of everything she could say to him – but it wasn’t translating. So she pulled, and in a quick, dirty move, his head came off in her small pale hands. The blood spurted, hitting her face and body, staining her tank top.

She dropped the head, scrambling back from the mess until she fell off of the bed. She was still feeling everything: fear, anger, anxiety, adrenaline and something else she couldn’t describe. Everything was loud, everything was alive.

She curled up next to the bed, holding her head and getting August’s blood all over her face. She didn’t care. She just wanted to disappear into herself, but she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t agree with her, and as she sat there holding herself and screaming (the only way she seemed to be able to express any of this), the memories she’d been compelled to forget flooded back and the feelings she’d been made to feel were gone, making her feel hollow.

Her voice got hoarse from the screaming and she buried her head into her knees. When she finally stopped shaking and grew quiet, she looked around. Andrea could not be there. She didn’t know where she could go, but it couldn’t be there.

She didn’t bother with her things, adjusting her underwear and running out of the room barefoot. When she got downstairs and out the front door, the breeze seemingly went through her. Her tongue glided across her long canines. The concrete under her feet seemed to move. She continued to feel so much.

Everything she saw was revealing itself to her in a way she’d never experienced. Still afraid, still confused, she took off running.

And she kept running.

[andreashelfish]

Letters to Mom

This is just a journal. So if you’ve found this, I know she’s dead. It’s just easier for me to write my thoughts down if I imagine having someone to tell them to. 

Dear Mom,

I haven’t been outside in months. I’ve studied his bedroom to a T. I literally know where everything is, where he keeps all of his things and what time he does things. Because I have nothing to do but watch and wait for him to return.

I’m talking about August, mom.

I think I’ve also lost all concept of time. I don’t know what day it is, or if I still have a job. Probably, but it just seems like the longer this goes on, the quicker the world forgets about you. Well, I wasn’t a huge presence before, but you know what I mean.

I notice so much, just laying here. The fact that August leaves every day in a black SUV like the one that hit me keeps making me think about finding who it was. Then I remember that’s impossible, being the point of a hit and run. But I have them to thank for being stuck here in the first place. I hope they step on a tack at least.

 I banged myself up all over again a while back. Fell down the stairs because I thought I could do too much too fast. Made an idiot out of myself. I’m glad August found me and helped me when he did, but I was so embarrassed.

I’m kinda ready to just stop trying. I just wanna sleep until I feel like a human being again.

I hope he comes home soon.

I really miss him a lot.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Tucking the helmet away, Gunnar returned the hug, wrapping an arm around her briefly and offering a small smile at the thanks. “Anytime.” He waited until she was safely inside before starting up the scooter again, this time uncaring about the noise as he sped down the darkened street. 

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Gunnar stood when she did, shaking out the energy that rippled through him, balmy and familiar. Swinging long legs, he settled back atop the scooter and passed Andy the helmet, waiting until he felt her arms around him before starting up the Vespa. The night air had turned colder, but Gunnar could feel nothing but the heat simmering under thick skin and the press her small frame to his, warm under her thick jacket. He took the winding turns with ease, letting Susan coast down the mountain until they were back on the long stretch of highway and he kicked up the speed, slowing down only when they were within the Sangren city limits, not wanting to disturb the quiet streets too much. Soon enough, he was back where he first met her, easing the scooter in the driveway and he cut the engine. “Guessing  I’ll hold on to the keys until you’re leaving this place,” he told her, turning slightly to catch her gaze. “That is, unless you want your ride.” 

[andreashelfish]

She stepped down, taking off the helmet and handing it to him. “Yes, you hold onto the keys. I’ll come get her when I can get back on the road.” She moved in close to hug him. “Thank you for taking care of her. And for the fresh air.” She let go, wrapping her arms around herself and making her way up the walkway. She waved again before getting the front door open and going inside.

[andreashelfish]

Allow Yourself

Tagging → Andrea Sheldon [with August Stone] Time Frame → Thursday Evening | October 7, 2015 Location → August’s Home General Notes → (There’s a bit of a violence tw)

She rarely saw August when the sun was up.

She’d returned around sunrise, and he wasn’t around. This was normal, but it still made her feel a little uneasy. Only now had she begun to think about how to tell him everything she did, and how she didn’t know what would possess her to cheat, but how for some reason it felt inescapable. Like unfinished business or something. Whatever she did or didn’t do with Gunnar had always nagged at her, like an itch on the small of her back she could not reach. It always came in waves, though. She would go days thinking no one else existed but August, and then those days would come where other things began to seep in and that itch would flare up again. It felt like continuing something that had been left behind an ellipsis forever.

She also felt a little better for the first time in a while; it was like she was actually healing a little bit. It could have just been the fresh air and what she would classify now as stress release. Sunset was nearing, and she’d walked downstairs twice during the day. She was getting her own food, even though it was grilled cheese and cereal.

In a different tank top and her underwear, she licked her spoon and swung her legs off the edge of the kitchen stool. She heard a car door shut outside and stood, taking her bowl to the sink before fixing her hair to see August. At the very least, he would notice how she was walking around and doing things on her own.

He opened the front door, looking around at the lights that were on until their eyes met from where he stood in the foyer. She waved.

“Hey,” she greeted with a half-smile. He sighed and shut the door behind him.

“I see you’re back,” he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walked over to join her in the kitchen. “Did you have fun?”

“I…” She stopped to think about what she might say, as he clearly knew a lot. He always did. “Yeah. But I have to talk to you about it.”

“No, I’m going to talk. You’re going to sit down,” as he spoke, she sat back down on the stool. “And listen. Because you’ve been very disobedient, and that’s probably my fault but you can’t blame me for wanting to trust the woman I love.”

The warmth she usually felt from those words only made her twitch slightly. He advanced, stopping behind her and cupping her face. “You know that I think the world of you, Andrea.” She smiled at that. “You’re beautiful, a true artist, and you possess such sharp wit when you want to.”

He stroked the side of her face, fingers tracing the slope of her neck. “And you are mine. Even as you need the compulsions more and more, I truly believe it’s going to click soon. And we won’t have to keep doing this.” His hand quickly switched from its gentle caresses into a fierce grip around her neck.

She tried to speak, tugging at his hand to get him to loosen his grip, but he turned her face to meet his eyes and told her to stop. So she limply sat there, wheezing.

“I really love you, Andrea. But I cannot let you run around, behaving how you feel you need to and completely disrespecting me.” He continued talking, almost to himself as he continued to nearly crush her windpipe. “It’s so puzzling. I am…creating this life for us, trying so hard to please you and ensure you never worry, but you fight me. You have to stop. You have to allow yourself to be happy here, with me.”

He let her go, allowing her to slip off of the stool and onto the tiled floor with a thud. She hoarsely cried out, gripping her sprained ankle and looking up at him, speechless. He sighed, crouching down to her level. “I didn’t know my grip was that tight. I’m sorry, love.”

He shushed her, and even with her watering eyes, she obeyed. He held her ankle, and at first she thought he was going to inspect it for her, but he sank his teeth into the soft skin above her joint. Because of his directions she couldn’t scream, only watch in horror. His grip was too tight as he drank, staring down at her.

When he finished, he didn’t let go yet, licking his lips clean.

“Now,” he began. “Last night you were here. The entire night. You were feeling confident, so you tried to walk around the house on your own, but you fell down the stairs and sprained your ankle. I came home and found you.” He finally let go of her, standing to go to a cabinet, retrieving gauze and returning to where she was on the floor.

“As usual, I took care of you. Bandaged your ankle so you wouldn’t agitate it. Your soreness is from all the movement. You were over-ambitious.”

“I was,” she agreed, watching him intently.

“I am August Stone, the man you love. I have your best interests at heart, and I’m all you need.”

“You’re all I need.”

“I’m your main source of confidence and well-being. I make you feel like no one ever has.”

She smiled, and he finished wrapping her ankle. Picking her up bridal style, he took her back upstairs to where she could rest.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

“Only if you want. I’m good either way.” Silver eyes held an amused look at her reaction, not exactly shy, but still something he found almost endearing in its genuineness. As his lips brushed hers, Gunnar was tempted to dip his head lower, to suck a mark into the smooth curve of her neck, and normally it would just be something he did, not consider. But he stopped himself, when he thought of their last encounter and the dandy claiming his handiwork. Brows furrowed at that, a different, irritated heat flaring in the pit of his stomach, his gaze betraying nothing while he loosened his hold on her to reach for the jacket she’d tossed off earlier, shaking it out and wrapping it around her slender shoulders. “I should get you back.” 

[andreashelfish]

She smirked at that, nodding and returning the really soft kiss. She thought the change was due to a gust of wind, showing him a grateful smile after he wrapped her jacket around her. “Okay.” She finally stood, wobbling a little before finding her footing and walking back to where they left Susan.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

“Aye. Definitely passed it. Even without the little skirt.” He grinned at that, lifting her just enough to slip from her heat. “Though last time, you were proper pinned, and seemed to really enjoy it.” Cocky smirk still in place, Gunnar lifted his fingers to his lips, giving a short nod while he savored her cream. “Still sweet.” 

[andreashelfish]

She could only bite harder on her lip at the idea of being pinned, eventually chuckling in lieu of saying anything. Her gaze followed his fingers and she gulped. “Oh,” she replied, her eyes still fixed on his mouth. “I’m happy to hear that.” The statement came out in a whisper, and she shook her head to snap herself out of it. “I should ease off of you, huh?”

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

He didn’t still his fingers, silver gaze fixated on her every move, quaking thighs and breathy moans as shivered into the release. Gunnar curled his arm around her middle, keeping her close to his body heat while stroking her down from the high, a soft grunt slipping from his lips when Andy’s hands gripped his hair. The feel of her, soft, slick, and fluttering against his fingers was something he’d commit to memory, long after he’d take her back to the dandy, satisfied and smelling like him. The thought was enough to curl his lips into a brief smile that he dropped to her shoulder, mouth skimming upwards to press a kiss behind her ear as he rumbled, “Not a scream, but just as good.” 

[andreashelfish]

She didn’t think she could move right away, so with her arms still resting on his shoulders, she remained in his lap. Dipping her head, she bit her lip as he kissed her. The feeling it elicited felt really pure, like there was nothing wrong with it. So for a little while longer, she would pretend there wasn’t. She kissed him after he made that statement, a little unable to stop herself. “Um...not like I can really say, but I think your reenactment may surpass the original. Or at least measure up considerably.” She was a little hoarse, still waiting to feel like she could stand on her own.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Gunnar supposed he just wanted to see if she’d actually go through with it, if the boldness from their first encounter was in her nature or simply a fluke. It surfaced in small ways, from the unguided rock of her hips to the way her tongue moved against his, searching but unhurried. He didn’t dwell on whether or not this would be a moment he’d have to pull from her later; the only thing on his mind was making it count, now. Slowly, he sank a thick finger into her heat, careful not to thrust too hard even as she tightened around him. He resigned himself to short strokes, his free hand slipping to cup her bottom, moving her hips to meet the pace. His words were few, needing no more sound than the easy glide of his strokes while she soaked his hand, and those moans he stole from her lips with firm kisses, nipping at her bottom lip when he slipped a second finger inside, pausing only for a moment to let her readjust before he continued the steady stroke. 

[andreashelfish]

Andrea couldn’t really explain why she wanted something so badly outside of August, and why she was so willing to take it -- vocalize it, even. It was kind of like trying something incredible for the first time, having it taken away and craving it all the time after, not even being able to hold yourself back when you get it again. The thought made her smile even as her teeth grazed his lip and his hands pushed another affirming moan from her throat. That feeling in her thighs, the subtle trembling, had turned into full shaking. The extra width made her gasp, tugging strands of his hair between her fingers. It didn’t take long for her body to tense and her breath to catch against his lips as a release rippled through her. Her head dropped to his shoulder as it happened and she smiled again into his skin, the tight grip on his hair slowly beginning to loosen. 

[unthroning]

Found my diary from when I was six.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Steady fingers worked to unbutton her jacket because he couldn’t keep them still, hot hand pushing past the layers, wanting to coax another moan from her. The bold touches were only to please, his grip firm but never possessive even as his fingers slipped under her tank top, skimming soft skin near her ribcage and he gave a deep groan at the feel of her. Energy simmered under his skin, practically humming with every thrust and it didn’t take much to push his hand into her leggings, moving past her panties to rest at her center, damp heat greeting wandering digits and he was practically grinning against her lips once his thumb grazed her button, teasing in gentle circles that matched the pace of her hips. He was all too willing to push things as far as she’d let him, finger dipping lower to stroke a single line down her wet, only to circle back to her clit and start all over again. His own hips stilled while he focused on her, hand gripping her side while the other continued its torture. “Tell me,” came the gentle demand just as he pressed against her opening. He could already feel the flutter, wet clench causing him to groan once more and Gunnar dropped a brief kiss to her lips. “Tell me what you want.” 

[andreashelfish]

She helped, unlinking her arms from around him to yank off the jacket, letting it fall somewhere beside them. The skin to skin contact from his hand pressed against her side had her buzzing, so the surprising feeling of his fingers made her jump slightly at first. She relaxed, deciding with each curl of his digits that she wanted him to keep going. Her thighs had a slight tremble, and the feeling seemed to shoot to her toes, curling under her thick socks and boots. Her arms snaked back to their original resting place on his shoulders, one hand threading through his hair again and the other clutching the fabric of his hood. Her kisses got slower, lazier as she tried to prolong the tingling she felt practically everywhere. After releasing his lower lip, she dropped her head, pressing it at the crook of his neck to allow herself the moans she’d been holding in. “I...” She found it extremely hard to answer his question between his fingers, still teasing, and the sound of his voice vibrating against her skin. Thrusting her hips against his hand again, she rose to meet his gaze, telling herself he wouldn’t let her have it if she didn’t ask for it. “I just want you to,” she sighed, pointedly moving her hips again. “I want to come. I want you to make me.” When she had the chance to overthink, she would debate the wording.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Holding still, he let her hands wander, the restless heat under his skin stirring with a jolt when her fingers tugged at his facial hair. Gunnar’s lips parted with a low groan, encouraging the rock of her hips with a few thrusts of his own. She was just as soft as he remembered, pliant under a strong grip and he was careful to keep it light, so as not to bruise her even further. One hand slipped between them, feeling the warmth through the thick leggings she wore. He was content to tease her, cupping her heat with a gentle squeeze while he sucked at her tongue. There was no rush, never a need to barrel forward. It was late, they were in a secluded spot, and he’d touch her like this for as long as it took to hear her demand more. 

[andreashelfish]

She pressed her forehead against his, breaking the kiss to allow herself more breath. She had goosebumps from the mix of the chilly wind up there and the heat radiating off of him. “Woah,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his neck and breathing heavy at the feeling of his hand. The moan that escaped her echoed, and it startled her, almost taking her out of the moment until she felt his finger brushing her through the cotton. Her hands began to shake where they rested on his face, probably because she felt like she was embarking on something really dangerous. But her arms snaked around him, securing around his neck so she could taste him, kissing away any apprehensions and pressing her hips in time with his strokes.

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air | 1.6.2016

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Gunnar wouldn’t exactly call it shyness, but it rolled off her in waves and he offered her a brief smile he wasn’t sure she’d see, given that she was looking at anything but him. While he couldn’t explain the missing moments, he’d do his best to make up for them; strong hands reached out then, his hold firm but gentle as he lifted her into his lap. Her weight against him was familiar, his hands reaching for smaller ones and settling them on his shoulders. “We were like this.” Spreading his legs a little wider, he gripped her hips and pulled her closer, lips brushing her cheek. “No overthinking. Just act. You kissed me because it’s what you wanted. What you want now, too. So take it.” 

[andreashelfish]

Andrea instinctively gripped his shoulders, a little nervous but a little giddy as his hand grazed one of her bruises. “Oh,” was all she could manage, and she could immediately feel the ache in her middle that was familiar, but different every time it occurred. His breath against her cheek was so distracting, she almost didn’t understand what he said; the keywords were “want” and “take,” so she did. Pulling back, her hands moved to his neck, one continuing on to touch his face before she kissed him, slowly but with purpose. Her thighs tightened around him, her fingers threaded his beard and his lips were soft like she vaguely remembered. She wanted to melt into him and for a second she heard August’s voice inquiring about the “blond bouncer,” his fascination with Gunnar something she didn’t really understand until now. He couldn’t...physically make her feel this way. She tucked his hair behind his ears, reveling in the feel of it on her fingers as she kissed him harder. 

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

“That’s not why we came here,” he told her, taking one last drag before stubbing out the lit end and tossing the dead spliff off the ledge. While it didn’t really need to be said, he was still wanted her to know. This was simply a mission of getting her out and getting her around people that wasn’t one person in the same routine. He didn’t give a shit about the dandy nor the boundaries of their ridiculous relationship. It was her wants he’d consider. “But if it’s what you wanted, then it’s what I’m offering.” 

[andreashelfish]

“I didn’t think that,” she said, looking ahead as she fell quiet. It was a bad thing, and it would betray August’s trust, to tell him it’s what she wanted. She also began to wonder why she wanted anyone other than August in that moment -- but she did. “I was gonna agree that maybe it could jog my memory, but honestly I just hate thinking that those things happened and I can’t relive them.” Her cheeks were red from admitting that. “I feel like there’s a version of me in my subconscious that gets all the good stuff. So if you can show me what I missed, I’d be really grateful.” She avoided eye contact after that. “Since you’re offering.”

[andreashelfish]

The Dangers of Fresh Air

[gunnardown]

Gunnar probably should have listened to the nevermind, but he never really did that sort of thing anyway, breezing right past it with a casual lift of broad shoulders. “You were. Got you off with just my fingers, under that pretty little skirt. Dunno how I remember and you don’t. Happens, I guess. Could always jog your memory, if that’s what you need.” He let the suggestion hang in the cool air while passing her the still-lit spliff. 

[andreashelfish]

Lately it was like she was programmed to think of August and August only, but for once his presence was pushed to the back of her mind. She thought he was kidding though, so she smiled and took the spliff, remaining silent as she smoked. His answers were so distracting, planting things she could only imagine in her head - things that made her pull her legs close again. “That’s what people come up here for,” she replied, passing back what was left. She wondered if that was thing she felt she was missing when she was with August; no matter how much she seemed to love him, it always felt like an imitation of something she’d created in her brain. Maybe Gunnar was that something. But she had to follow her own rule, not discussing the brunet who no doubt waited for her in his mansion.