⌜ H ✪ W L ⌟

After a few seconds more searching through his madcap organization, Adrian drew out one of the six journals he kept at any given time. It helped keep his thoughts organized. He sighed, impatient and relieved all at the same time. 

“This.“ 

Because that explained a lot. He turned back to face her, gesturing vaguely and said: "You’ll need to tell me everything about that.” Offhand, it was more of a command than a request. Watchers. Used to demanding everything.

“And now you survive…how, exactly?” 

      Brows hike to her hairline in surprise-- he’s a bossy thing, isn’t he? But that’s the Council. Sterling manners and yet they can be quite rude when they feel entitled to something. Rose straightens in her chair and frowns for a moment, ❛ And you’ll need to learn I’m not so easily bossed about. ❜ Her arms fold neatly across her chest and she sits in silence for a moment. It’s... strangely comfortable despite the fact that she’s still thinking about how bloody rude humans can be. And she’s inferior... lesser-- hah! 

Any possible nerves had got lost in the path of her nails and the heat that followed, shooting like electricity through his body. His fingers tightened on the sheets beneath her and his groan caught behind his teeth before it came out as a moan. 

Her subtle squirm to open herself up made his breathing thicken, his eyes go half-lidded. Despite the pause for their chat, he was hard and eager and he could feel the sunrise coming. In a matter of hours the night would become day and they’d part, but for now they were trapped in some magical quiet space that didn’t follow the laws of time.

It had already become habit, the way he brushed his thumb against her lower lip, leaning in to mingle breaths before tasting her again. His other hand was between them, giving himself a stroke to help, teasing the head of his cock against her entrance to slick them both before he pushed forward, sinking into her carefully, bit by bit. 

    To say she’s not nervous or anxious or marginally terrified in the moments Adrian begins to press inside would be a bold-faced lie. And to say she’s not thrilled and exhilirated by the idea of making love-- really making love to someone who matters... well, that would be false as well. Because he does matter. He matters more than anyone tonight because, come morning, he’ll be gone. Come morning, Rose would have to fight to convince herself that this entire evening wasn’t just something she made up-- a fantasy. This is real. This is the realest thing she’s ever felt. This is how love is supposed to be.

A smirk grew, more free and honest with her gaze averted. This was comfortable. No class, no bright brown eyes. Just a cute girl who thought he was brilliant. He could do this.

“What’re you studying?”

Dad. Ooh. Even the mention of Rose’s dad made Adrian a little nervous. He was an impressive man with an impressive array of ray guns and shit. But beyond that, Adrian was never sure where he stood with the director. Jackie Tyler was usually easy to read. She wore her opinions in the arch of her brow. Pete was less so. Adrian had seen him since reuniting with Rose, spoken to him, and though he didn’t know how much had been told to the patriarch, he was fairly sure the man had to know Adrian had almost single-handedly broken his daughter.

“Just us, then? Covert?”

With the arch of her body and yet another wet kiss, Adrian’s mind had skipped ahead a bit. He was back in that little curtained off ‘room’ with a cigarette between his fingers and that mess of blonde curls in his lap. Fuck. He hadn’t even realized he’d groaned audibly. His grip tightened on her waist, ready to get her in the shadows and show her fun when the bassist, Wallace, was suddenly at his side, large hand smacked between his shoulder blades hard enough to jolt him out of pleasant thoughts.

“Scuse me,” the big Scot boomed, interrupting with emphatic purpose. He grinned at Rose and then to Adrian with a smirk. “Since you didn’t help at all, you’re buyin.”

Adrian’s head tipped back with a groaning growl that was entirely of regret now. “Fuck.”

“Alright?” Wallace smacked his back again, then cuffed the back of his head. “Let’s go. Bring your friend.”

With a wink, the Scot backed away, but Adrian still didn’t move off from Rose. There was a note of rueful apology in his eyes when he looked up with his chin tucked. Like a coked-out puppy.

“Fancy a drink?”

      The blonde watches the exchange, head lolling back against the wall the musician’s got her pressed to. The interruption isn’t unwelcome in the slightest. In fact, it’s amusing as all hell to watch one inconvenience the other. Still, Adrian’s grip on her waist hasn’t loosened and as Wallace lumbers off, Rose is left smiling, toothy and mischievous. Her knuckles trace the distinguished line of his jaw and she sighs, studying him for a moment. He’s endearing in a way when he looks at her just so-- watching with dark eyes beneath even darker lashes. Rose wonders, only briefly, if he’s wearing mascara; isn’t about to ask, of course, because now he’s proposing refreshment of the liquid variety and she’s never been one to turn down booze.

      A drink, a kiss, a fuck-- fancies it all, wants him... and now her only regret is that they’ve got to move from the dark corner they’ve claimed as their own. Her hands drop to rest on his shoulders and she gives them a brief squeeze, humming out a lazy:  ❛ Mm... ❜ Finally straightening, she flashes him another grin and nods towards the direction of the door.

But the Watchers’ information on Angelus and Darla was scarce to say the very least. Despite the couple’s rather flamboyant style, there were never enough survivors for eyewitness accounts. Mostly horror stories and legends, which any Watcher worth his salt knew not to trust at face value. It was rather an ongoing investigation across every level of leadership in the organization. The duo had already been slaughtering for a century or so. They couldn’t be allowed to go any further.

Maybe he’d make a go of killing this vampire eventually, but for now she’d suddenly become a possible font of wisdom, and he didn’t disguise the way he shifted closer.

“How long were you with them?”

      ❛ Too long, ❜ she answered after a pregnant pause, setting her tea aside because, quite frankly, it was disgusting. Not his fault, of course. Her tastebuds had died right along with her those hundred or so years ago. Still, she maintained her poise, hands folding neatly upon her lap before she even made an attempt to elaborate upon her response.

      ❛ A year. Maybe longer. I don't think about them often. They prided themselves on senseless slaughter and I-- I grew tired of it. My first attempt was... less than successful. Angelus was... persuasive-- said I'd never go without. Never go hungry. He was right, f'course, but I didn't like their ways. Figured I could afford to skip a meal or two. I starved myself for weeks after leaving. Nearly went mad, in fact. Not such a good choice, now that I think on it. ❜ A rueful smile played at her lips, attention soon shifting to the books Adrian seemed to be searching through.