Reason
Rating: M (for drugs and alcohol)
Synopsis: Truths are laid bare when alcohol and drugs get into the mix.
Thanks to bestie @maastrash for edits and being awesome and always encouraging me in life BAHHAHAHA
Cardan churned his head around in a daze. He couldn’t help but lean his head against the table. Sectioned off in the upper level, his booth allowed him an expansive view of the dance floor.
His cheek laid against the cool surface of the table as he peered downwards to the lower level, observing the mob dancing and mingling while his brain swam in colors. Whether the indistinguishable shapes in his vision were due to the alcohol or the colored lights from the club itself, he wasn’t able to discern the difference between them at the moment. Despite the booming of the bass in the club, he had the drugs to thank for he was in a happy, happy daze. His fae senses only saw and heard a muffled version of the chaos around him.
Except, now he felt a spike in energy.
Abruptly, he rose from his seat at the booth, hitting his knee against the rim of the table in the process. Smooth.
“Cardan, where are you off to?” Locke asked.
“It is time I join the revel, now that it is at its peak.” Cardan announced groggily. He stumbled his way out of the booth. He could hear Nicassia’s muffled tones of protest behind him, but didn’t care to acknowledge her whimpers.
He gripped the handrail of the stairs tightly. His fingers squeezed the metal at intervals, trying to make his descent as slowly as he could. Elderberry vodka and mirthroot clouded his senses. The combination was too strong for his fae blood to metabolize quickly enough, but Cardan took in that fact with appreciation.
He was finally able to make his way down the stairs and was soon joined by two nymphs. The two leaned against his frame and looped themselves around his biceps. He looked down at their faces, scrutinizing their features. One of the nymphs had a too-large nose and overzealous blush; she purred seductively and blinked whimsically at him. The other pushed her breasts up against him, her clawlike limbs grazed him in a playful manner. Cardan didn’t mind their advances, probably due to the fog in his mind that clouded much of his reason, but he wanted to get into the crowd, and “dance the night away” to rid himself of the events of today.
With the two nymphs dangling from his form, he eased them towards the mob. He felt one of the nymphs tug on his arm and with a breath of honey wine, she whispered, “Prince, instead of going into the throng of revelers, shall we escort ourselves into some place… more private?”
Cardan paid no heed and continued his way through the crowd that parted in tune to his entrance. He allowed himself to sink into the rhythm of the dance floor. He closed his eyes, immersing himself into the music that was still muffled, the colored lights that flashed insistently, and the groove of bodies that rocked to and against him.
Someone tapped his shoulder. Cardan opened up his eyes to perceive a lit, tightly-rolled joint of mirthroot displayed in between fingers extended out to him. He didn’t care who had offered it to him, but he sensed that his high was coming to an end, so he took the mirthroot and placed it in between his lips and inhaled. He felt it invade his lungs and further clutter his brain in the midst of the effects of the substances he had taken earlier. Exhaling, he instantly felt at ease, letting himself loosen. Cardan placed his arms around the two nymphs and pulled them closer against him, positioning them so he was in between the two of them, ignoring their eager gasps as he placed himself at the rear of one of the nymphs. He rolled his body against the two of them, wanting to feel the friction of their bodies against his.
Cardan opened his eyes slightly, surveying the chaos of bodies and the savage energy of the crowd. While he rocked against the bodies against him, he inspected the individuals surrounding him with the little slip of reason he had left. He caught sight of some individual with auburn hair, styled in a horn updo and curls that cascaded down the back of her form. His eyesight perked up a bit and his mind sharpened. He gave a push to the nymphs around him and met them with a glare to their protest. They immediately scattered.
He pushed further in vexation, dismissing scowls and venomous eyes. He had disturbed their highs and disordered the movement of the dancing, but his mind had sharpened towards only one goal at the moment, so he ignored the disapproval of those around him without much thought. The alcohol and mirthroot in his veins both furthered and hindered his resolve. It furthered him towards the direction of those auburn curls without discretion, but hindered him in which he acted before he could fully gather at what he was exactly doing.
He finally made it towards her.
Golden glitter smeared the eyelids and cheekbones of her feminine face. Painted in a dazzling, cherry tint, her lips slightly parted as if breathing in the energy of the crowd. She moved in tune with the music and Cardan, who didn’t care that he stood at the mercy of the rock of the crowd that shoved and bumped him, was finally able to take in her full form. She looked amazing, ethereal almost, despite the lawlessness of the room. Her tiny, skin tight teal blue dress clung to her curvy form; its neckline plunged in a deep V that showed off the cleavage of her breasts. Cardan was in awe. He almost always saw Jude in court dresses that although cinched her waist, flared down the length of her legs so they, unfortunately, couldn’t be seen. The sight before him left him without breath, immobilized him, and heart speeding.
He stumbled towards Jude further. Right now, reason was his foe. He was aware of Jude’s hostility towards him, but courage and stupidity currently fueled him. He now stood before her, and placed his hands upon her exposed shoulders.
Cardan watched Jude slowly rise from the hypnotic rhythm of the room. She must have taken something as well. He watched as her eyes gradually met his and further examined the blown pupils of her eyes. Cardan, too, was in a drunken stupor, so before he could stop himself, he lamented, “Jude…”
Cardan watched her, drinking in the sight of her in this way. There was some kind of tension between them that was better left unspoken of.
They were in the middle of the dance floor, but this time, the surrounding mix of fae and human dared not to get in the prince’s way again, lest they wanted their wings ripped out. Cardan silently thanked his reputation for allowing him to savor this moment.
Jude unexpectedly met him with a sad attempt of a glare but continued to sway her hips to the beat of the bass, “Cardan, stop staring.”
To his chagrin, his brain had failed him. His brain had shut off, he could barely form a word, until he spouted indignantly, “Did you think you could escape me? I can spot you from miles away.”
“You have no reason to bother me here. Stop your glowering, your narrowing eyes.” Despite whatever substances were within her system, Cardan was surprised at the proficiency and fight in her speech.
“And if I want to continue to admire the dullness of your being?” He countered.
Cardan focused further on Jude’s face. He could imagine the amount of concentration that it took for her to focus on him, his own head pounded from its desire to be left to idleness again.
So he obliged it. He let his body do the talking: surrounded her frame within his and placed his hands around her hips. He let them settle there for a few moments, giving Jude time to pull away or not. Unexpectedly, she had pulled him in further, accepting his gesture. Her hands slid up and down his body, feeling the rich fabric of his blouse, attending to the gemstones that rimmed the lining with little touches. In response, Cardan’s hands grazed down Jude’s figure, rested on the cup of her ass, and squeezed. He grabbed her ass and brought Jude closer to him, angling his body so that he fit against her frame perfectly. Her forehead fell into his chest and her hands were tangled in his hair this time, fiddling with his black strands.
Cardan felt a modest tug, so he looked downwards towards Jude. He took in her suddenly shy exterior, and was caught off guard when Jude came towards him and united them at their lips. Those cherry soft things that parted when she spoke left a bit of residue of golden gloss that stained his own. He felt a sort of vigor that abolished any sort of influence that was on him. His mind was clear, and now only focused on one thing: the mortal woman in front of him that pulled him out of his drunkenness and foolery. This kiss was like a sort of message, and he loved it so much. Felt addicted to decipher the code behind this unfamiliar language between them. He pressed himself harder against her: his lips against hers, her body against him. Those damned lips parted again and Cardan let himself in. It was another battle between them, fueled by uncovered truths and drugs and alcohol and the scent of sweat and heat that circulated around them.
The two came off of each other, only to catch their breaths. Panting, their hot breaths added to the already warm air. Cardan wasn’t intoxicated anymore. He was far from it. And glad. Glad that he was going to be able to remember this moment in full. While Cardan held Jude at her sides, breathing heavily, she whispered, “Kiss me, kiss me until I am sick of it.”
Cardan turned Jude around so he faced her back. He ground himself against her, rolling themselves akin to the music. He clasped his hands around her middle. No escape. He bent his head at the crook of her neck and leaned in, starting to kiss along Jude’s jaw and down the length of her neck to the exposed space of her collar bones. They fell into the cadence of the crowd in that moment. Their bodies rolled against each other accordingly.
Cardan felt Jude reach up towards him, her height angled so that she reached his ear and whispered, “I am so high.” Cardan could hear the smile in her words, the purr of her whisper had sent him into a shiver.
“What did you take, sweet Jude?” Cardan whispered into her hair.
“Nevermore,” Jude breathed. Nevermore was a white powdery substance that was to be inhaled through the nose, intended for faerie use. For faeries, it was strong. Cardan could not comprehend the extent of Jude’s response to the hard drug, how she was still standing and speaking right now, nor of however she had gotten a hold of it.
But Cardan felt a little sad, however. Was she standing before him because she was lost in its effects? Would she remember this encounter at the end of tonight, tomorrow? Must he go back and sneer at Jude tomorrow, forgetting this momentous tryst between them?
Cardan held Jude within his arms. He didn’t care that his court saw him mingling with the human girl he used to taunt, that the crowd had pretended to ignore the spectacle between them only seconds ago. He just wanted to cherish how this feeling felt. How being wanted felt.
“Jude,” Cardan spoke softly.
He felt movement within his arms, as Jude suddenly slackened.
Tag list: @maastrash @b00kworm @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln