“– Don’t push it, Thalia.” Nuriel sat back in his seat, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I acknowledge it. I don’t know if I believe it or not, but I acknowledge it.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Nuriel.” An apology was a big step for her, a step in the right direction. That didn’t mean she liked him. “You don’t have to believe it, ‘cause I mean it. As long as I know that, I have peace. I just want to start with a clean slate this time ‘round.”
Bea rolled her eyes, considering the idea. She wasn’t much of a writer, but looking at Thalia, she was positive she’d be able to find the flowery words poets used to describe their muses. Bea pulled Thalia to her, her head coming to just above Thal’s chin, tilted back to see her. Raising her brows, she lifted herself to her toes, bringing her lips to Thalia’s, her hands slipping to the other girl’s back pockets.
Thalia glanced down at Bea, basking in the girl's beauty. How she had managed to fall in love with the world's most unattainable girl, she would never know. Her heart belonged to her, though, there was no question about it. Feeling her best friend's hands dip into her back pockets caused a smirk to tug on the corners of her mouth. Her lips parted ever so slightly, letting her deepen the kiss with ease. Seconds passed and not once did she feel the need to come up for air, but she still found herself pulling away. While their lips were no longer attached, she didn't have the heart to pull away from the brunette entirely. Nudging her nose against Bea's, she lingered there, face to face. "That was great but maybe you should try a little lower next time."
“Okay... And you’re weird. I’ll have you know that I can scream in like, two octaves and once kicked an angel’s ass with a log. So, wanna tell me why you’re actin’ like a creep?”
I don't know if you remember this well, but I do. Years ago, when I was just thirteen, I would spend minutes staring at you. Or well, gawking, I suppose. Staring does sound a bit Cullen-ish. Anyway, that's not the point. Once upon a time, I thought that if I stared at you long enough, I'd be able to understand you. It's like staring at the sun. There's so much beauty and brightness in one single object that it's so hard to fathom how it exists. Yet the longer you stare at it, the more it burns your eyes and your mind. You bask in its warmth and glory and it begins to burn you. It doesn't realize it's doing this, as it is simply shining the way it was intended to.
Since then, I feel like all I've been doing is staring at the sun and competing with the different moons that revolve around you. I'm stuck here, in this rutt, further being blinded as every moment ticks by. I thought maybe, just maybe if we became more than what we were, that ache would go away, but it hasn't.
It's not a secret that you weren't my first and I'd be delusional if I thought I was yours. But you're the best. You're the one I'd prefer to have for the rest of eternity, even if staring at you causes me to lose sight of everything permanently. I'm so afraid that I can't flourish without you in my life. I wouldn't be able to bloom in times of great joy. I would wither off the vine, curling up onto myself, each part of my delicate soft body slowly dying without your embrace.
But I'm beginning to fear that I'll experience that great cold one day, possibly one day soon. With each sunrise and sunset, I feel like my chance is slipping away, sliding out of my grasp. I remind you as often as I can that I love you, but I always seem to imply that it's platonic. I moan your name when you touch me but I brush it off as you being irresistable. I'm so tired of pretending to want nothing more than physical contact. I'm tired of acting like the very thought of you doesn't make my entire body shiver and still burn. And I don't know what to do, because I'm so sure that one day, you're going to get bored of me revolving around you and you're going to find another satellite.
I don't think I could make it through that, Beatrice. I don't think I would be able to make it through you taking on a different lover. Quite frankly I don't want to.
“Slow your roll fish boy,” Thalia mused, taking a few steps further into the pool room. “You don’t own the pool. I’d like to think it’s open to all students, available for rest and relaxation at all times.”
“As if there could be. I mean, as much as I enjoy sex with, well, everyone, you’re always gonna be number one.” Riaisng her brows, Bea grinned, hooking her fingers in Thalia’s belt loops. “Is that a challenge, Nagi?”
“Mm, I like the sound of that.” There was so much more Thalia wanted to say. Words like ‘you’re all mine,’ danced on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t dare say them. Not yet. She was jolted out of the moment by the sensation of Bea’s delicate fingers attached to her belt loops. The right corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk. “What do you think, Lexington? ‘Cause I sure as hell wasn’t asking you to write me a sonnet.”
“Ball as in… a soccer ball? Or do you mean a gala? Or a pumpkin? Because it’s a Halloween ball? I– I don’t know terribly much about human cultures, but I am excited.”
“I suppose it’s like a gala, yeah. It’s not as fancy as a gala, really. It’s more or less like our homecoming dance, since ours was cancelled after the, uh, lock down. It’s more or less a giant school-organized party where every one dresses up in costume.”
“Excuse me? It was a joke. So before you try to call me a whore again, I suggest you get a fuckin’ grip on reality, you dead piece of shit. I don’t go ‘round sleeping with everyone, but with your use of the insult, I’m guessing you’re threatened by the fact that I actually have game. ‘Cause it’s clearer than day that you have none.”
“I’m stoked. It was lonely here without everybody else. Now the halls are bustling and there are so many conversations to listen to– not that I’ve been eavesdropping or anything. Halloween’s the best. I can’t wait to leave campus.”
"If you’re a ghost that’s not eavesdropping, you’re haunting wrong, Casper. You have no idea what I’d do for some info on some of the assholes around here. But, uh, how long have you been stuck around this place? If you don’t mind me asking, that is. Asking a ghost how long they’ve been dead might be like asking an old lady what her age is, who knows.”
“Darlin’, much to my devastation, sexy and natural ain’t mutually exclusive where you’re concerned. Yeah? Well, it’s a good thing I’m always talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ or the other. Good to know, ‘cause I’d feel real dumb if you didn’t, considerin’ I love you, too.”
“If that’s true, I’m hoping I don’t have any competition in this god forsaken school. Heaven knows I’d hate to have to hex some poor boy or girl.” She paused for a brief moment to lick her lips. A small smile formed before she continued. “Perhaps you should show me just how much you love me.”
After moments of silence, Sam blinked a few times. While this situation could have been worse, for the both of them, it wasn't—which the demon was thankful for (more awkward situations to deal with wasn’t something he really wanted). “Uh, I just wanted to know if you’re doing better?” Concerned for a friend, that’s completely normal. “Do you always fix your clothing in the halls or was this just… one of those times where I popped up when I shouldn’t have?”
As her fingertips managed to fasten the top button, Thalia smiled up at her friend, a hint of crimson filling her cheeks. "I'm feelin' much better, yeah." A twinge of guilt hit her, fully knowing she had put him in an awkward situation (entirely by accident, really). "No this is the first time. Are you actually complainin' about it? Jesus, I've never had a complaint about my body before." A nervous giggle slipped from her lips. Perhaps she was taking the humor too far in an attempt to cover up the embarrassment she felt. "How do you feel to be back, anyway?"