Forgive Me;

(TL) Arlon’s parents had hoped he would succeed them wildly, becoming a sommelier and having a very good life living off the trade they’d grown him to know. But were equally as please when he (TR) became a writer instead, having success for his way with words until he was changed. Most of Covaire sees Arlon as the (BL) gentleman of Covaire, a man true to his word with a love for wolves and looking prim and polished by necessity. Arlon doesn’t always see the good in himself and often (BR) is reminded of the days he let his bloodlust get wildly out of hand. 

Not many people in this day and age love their parents. But Arlon adored his mother and father. French farmers, his mother taught him that there’s beauty to be found in the most plain of places, and that everything you could give to the world, it would give back to you in kind. His father, a hard working man and an adventurer. He believed that you could work hard and play harder, giving Arlon his love for all things mechanical. They both lived a short time after Arlon ‘died’ but his father succumbed to a heart attack a few years later and his mother not long behind because of a broken heart. Arlon makes a point to go and clean their graves, still on the farm, yearly. Only @effy-fontaine has ever been to their graves with him, not quite ready to take Chloe until she is completely healed both mentally and emotionally from all of her trauma.

Arlon grinned as she straightened up, humming as he looked over the speech. “I think you’re right.” Then he gave her a playful look as he moved over to her. “You wouldn’t happen to be checking in on me specially would you? I hear I’m a very good teacher and an even better best friend, but I can only be one of those on the clock.” He joked. “Seriously, dinner at my house tomorrow? Maybe Israel can join us.” He just hoped Eden wouldn’t want to spend the night. It was one thing he knew Effy would have an idea of, but never say anything about. The fraternization policy could’ve landed him in a world of trouble. “I am making mongolian beef.”

Who the hell is this man? Arlon hums and leans in to catch those lips, a bruising kiss shared between the two as he pulls on the other’s belt loops to keep their hips firmly pressed together getting his first taste of him. “I’ve never liked being told what to do....” He replied easily. “But I’ve been chilled a long time. A little fire never hurt anyone.” The wicked smile that left his lips next betrayed that sentiment. But a little pain wasn’t bad for the soul. “But if you’re warning me not to play, there’s still so much time left for me to leave you be to your own devices... entertain yourself, no?”

He can see the shift, even if she feels like she’s good at hiding it and he lets his lips move in to dance along her cheek. “That’s more true than you give it credit for.” He assured her. “I’m never letting anything happen to you ever again. Not in this lifetime, Chloe. I’ve already shown you I’ll move mountains if I have to. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” He promised. “Even if something happens, even if somehow all of the means fail, the end will still be true. You’re going to survive all of this. And we’re going to be together, no matter what.” The voice is low, right in her ear, and his tenor is unwavering. With help from friends in all places, Arlon has ensured that Archie’s death is imminent. He just has to wait for the other to make a move, and he knows the other will. Chloe isn’t the girl you just walk away from. Leaning back, he gets her gaze in his. “I’ll keep us together whatever it takes.”

Arlon knows the other is trying very hard to do two jobs that require a bit of focus. Arm hitching at their waist, he evenly has them stand upon the tips of his feet, taking the footing focus off, watching their lips as they speak to him. “Careful.... I hear us frenchmen can sweep most anyone off their feet after a waltz or two.” He teased with a soft smile. “Any influence that doesn’t have her out looking for trouble is only helping me at this point.”

It’s fun, this game of tit for tat. One Arlon can enjoy should he choose to. “I might.... I might not.” Cool fingers outline the length as it steadily continues to grow within the other’s slacks, leaning in to let his lips graze along that strong jawline. “You may never know.”

And to be perfectly honest.... Dominique would only bring ruin. Not for Chloe, no. But for me.

“I know you wouldn’t but... it does seem a waste to have you in such beautiful clothing and not be able to show you off. Besides, I though I made this sentiment clear on the boat...” He leaned in, fangs lightly grazing the skin of her shoulder before they retracted as he leaned back. “You and I have all the time in the world. And I’m not going anywhere. So more of you enjoying the night. Still, when the time does come to go home, you’re going to have to remind me to be gentle with this outfit... I’d like to see you in it again.”

Arlon listened to her story, intrigued to say the least. Grinning, he clicked his tongue. “I believe the term in french is tout est bien qui finit bien. All’s well that ends well. You’re here now, and that’s what matters. But that makes you sound like you and my girl are.... how would you say, twin flames? I’m not sure if you’ve met Chloe. She operates quite under the same mantra of living. And if that terminology doesn’t work in her favor, she well.... punches her meaning into it.” Chuckling, he tilted his head and glanced back over at her. “Call it what you will but she certainly keeps me on my toes. Then again, I don’t quite operate like most clients. Nor did I operate like most masters. I appreciate the burn in people. The will, the thrive.”

Once they’re outside, and it happens so fast even Arlon is thrown off, he feels the other with his hands on him and groans. “Something tells me you enjoy that...” He accused, his own hand coming down to grip the other. The firm length he feels in his palm sends a jolt of excitement through him. “I think I’m riling you up plenty....”