meet me behind the mall

To say James was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. She was so used to being the initiator, the one doing the chasing, the one responsible for all the big bold moves — and she liked it that way. Preferred it, typically. But there was something undeniably attractive when the roles were reversed; to being pursued, to being the one caught unawares. The move she was going to use, used on her. A revered exchange that left her the one giddy and aroused. She was only too welcoming in response, her lips parting automatically for the cat’s kiss.

She indulged in it then: the breathlessness of the moment, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her. The hand that had been resting on her neck tangled in her hair instead, her fingertips grazing the cat ear mask delicately in passing. But James wasn’t one to be usurped easy. When she pulled away for a breath of air, she used that air to breathe out an amused “minx” against the woman’s lips, briefly nipping at them herself before trailing her lips down to her neck. "My turn." She’d promised a bite, after all. Yet, her teeth never did more than graze. Instead, she peppered open mouth kisses along her skin, breaking each one with gentle, but very deliberate, sucking. Markings weren’t her thing, but she’d promised a bite — if her initial surprise tactic was a no-go, then a love bite would have to suffice. She was briefly aware of the edges of her own lace mask, knowing the edges stuck out, and attempted to keep her head tilted so as to not tickle her partner's neck much as she worked on leaving her mark. Satisfied, James kissed her way back up, overlapping their lips as she captured hers in another kiss, her arms shifting to encircle her waist, drawing her closer.

Once their lips met again, she returned the kiss with urgency. "So," she breathed against her mouth, hating to break any contact with her but wanting to get the words out. "How do you feel about me getting you out of all this, hmm?" she asked, smirking as her eyes trailed up and down before returning her disguised gaze forward. "I mean, you look hot." she uttered and broke her speech to kiss her once more. "Sexy, even,." Her hands were now exploring. She trailed up her hips, tracing along her abdomen and applying just enough pressure over her breasts to send a message, lingering before sliding upwards and letting her arms rest around her neck. "But I have a feeling everything underneath all this even better. What do you say?"

it was nearly time for closing, only a few stragglers left at the bar for cody to keep up with. moments like these were when the nights really started to drag, making him feel as though he was wading his way through molasses as he waited to finally be set free to go out for a drink or five of his own before heading back to his place to sleep for the what little of the night was left. his anxiety started to flare as he made his way down the bar, maintaining a pleasant face for the patrons' sake as he gathered the glasses left behind to be cleaned.

he managed it fairly well, as he always did. earlier in the night, when it was busier and he had more to do and more to entertain, he could usually be found with an open smile on his face, but not this late. it wasn't even that he wasn't having fun anymore, it was just that he was ready to go. then he came across the sticky remnants of a vodka soda on the bar as he swipe to pick up a glass, dragging the side of his palm through the liquid, and it pulled a quiet curse from his throat.

❝ it's not that hard," he muttered, mostly to himself. part of him hoped that the person who'd made the mess was still around to hear, in spite of the empty stool in front of him, as he reached under the counter for a wet cloth and started to scrub. ❝ you spill a drink, you take a napkin and wipe it up. hell, even get my attention if you're that worried and i'll wipe it up with a towel. don't just leave it to congeal. imagine if i went into your job and made it harder. bet you wouldn't like that."

"Need me to lick some of that off your hand?" she asked with a grin, taking another swig from her glass. "Sorry people suck, though. I'd be pissed if someone came and smashed my laptop or spilled ink all over my journals. Just work things, right? Livin' the dream." She spun on her barstool so that she was fully facing him now. "Would it make you feel better if I order a really expensive drink? I'll even do one of the stupidly named ones. You any good at concocting a Cement Mixer shot?"

James was forward by nature. She always had been — far too confident and brazen for her own good. And though it was a behavioral trait that often led her into trouble, it was never something she could truly shake, especially when the trouble was as tantalizing and tempting as the woman before her. The especially beautiful thing about right now was that there was no trouble in sight this time, only a beautiful woman feeling the exact same way she did, and that had all the makings in the world to embolden James. "Trust me, I plan to see all the way you move," she breathed, her hands sliding down the woman’s sides before settling on her waist, "Just through a different type of dance."

If the Black Cat’s words weren't encouraging enough, her actions were, James finding herself naturally stretching her neck to accommodate her thumb’s path. The sight of the other’s full grin was stunning —and rang familiar. Yet any thought at exploring that notion immediately dissolved the second those lips closed in on their own suggestion, James’ fingers reflexively gripping at her waist as she felt her lips press against her jaw. “Don’t ask for things you can’t handle.” She taunted, taking her actions as the invitation it was to clasp the hand around her own waist and tug them off the floor. “Away from prying eyes.” A quick response, and the only answer she could give for their destination, as there was no real one in mind. James was simply singularly focused on finding the first secluded spot she could, for while she had no qualms with PDA or exhibitionism, right now she just wanted to kiss her girl in private.

Luckily, she didn’t have to search long, slotting them into a dark alcove just off the main ballroom, the sounds of music and chatter muffled but still prevalent as she twisted her company around to press against the wall. Everything in James wanted to see her previous question through, her free hand briefly cupping Black Cat's jaw only to trail down and rest at the side of her neck, sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. But given the change in setting, she paused before she did anything more, meeting the other's eyes with a coy smirk. “Still want that bite?"

With a soft gasp, Augusta found her back against the wall and her hands automatically moving to wrap around the vampire's neck. It was almost a little natural with this stranger, almost familiar, but she was trying not to question it so much. It was a ball, for God's sake, these were what these things were invented for. It was harder to maintain composure, though, especially once she felt the other girl's hand on her neck and a shiver that accompanied the touch. "I do," she nodded, attempting to give her best doe-eyed look through the black lacy material of her mask. "There's nothing more I want. Well, actually...." she trailed off with a giggle, not sure she needed to fill in that blank. Considering how they were all but wrapped up against each other, it was obvious. "Me first, though. Kitty's can bite, too." She wasn't sure what prompted the bold move, but Augusta found herself leaning over, lips just brushing against James's before she took the girl's bottom lip between her teeth and gave a gentle tug. She lingered there for a moment before giving up on the teasing and running her tongue along where her teeth had been seconds ago before enveloping her in a kiss.

"that little boy... has a ferrari shirt on. it has theo's number on it... i noticed, and i really thought i was ready... i wasn't expecting that today. i should have. it's a sunday.." della shakes her head a little and loses the rest of her words - spiraling., she was very quickly spiraling. "i can buy you new shoes. do you want new shoes? i can get you fifty new shoes new shoes. i can't even buy a coffee without causing an international incident. i'm that much of a disaster."

she starts laughing and crying at the same time."i get pushed into traffic by paparazzi who are just waiting for me to mess up. and the emt who showed up was my ex. i think i'm being punished... or my brother has a really awful sense of humor from beyond the grave. my parents are so catatonic that they sent the ambassador to make sure i still had all of my limbs and 'we're happy you're alive diamonds.'." she didn't need them to travel across oceans, but she wanted them to.

Just as quick as the emotions came, she saw Della's face drain into emptiness, as if everything she'd just felt was gone in the snap of fingers. With a quick breath, she reached back over to place her hands on the girl's shoulders. She used her thumbs to rub soothing circles against the skin. She hoped that, in some way, it would ground her a bit. "Seems...like a lot," she nodded, not knowing how to sugar coat it. Even calling it 'a lot' felt like an understatement for what she'd been through. "You wanna get out of here? Talk about all this in a place where our hair doesn't smell like coffee beans when we leave?" She paused when she realized that, for Del, leaving without being noticed wasn't the easiest task. "I think there's a back exit we can probably sneak out of."

where: masquerade ball

If James were being honest with herself, she was hoping she'd end up in the exact situation she was in when she came out tonight. Because while she loved all the traditional things that came with Halloween — the costumes, the decorations, the candy, the spooky vibes — it was the parties and hookup culture embedded into the holiday that was really her favorite part. When she first made eye contact with the Black Cat, she was across the room engaged in conversation with another, so James didn't interrupt. The second time it happened, James took it as an invitation, only to be swept away by her own friend in need of a bathroom break. The third time it happened, when the Black Cat was on the dance floor, James made sure there were no intervening forces when she finally approached.

Which is how she found herself where she was now, all but pressed up against the woman who had caught her eye. The dance floor was nearly like any other — the clustered bodies and acute scent of sweat a sharp contrast to the glitzy masks and adorned attire. The music thrummed through her, providing a hypnotic melody that perfectly fit the theme of the evening and the feeling James was caught up in as she moved in rhythm with the Black Cat, utterly captivated by the woman moving with her. She didn't know her name, didn't know her situation, hell she could barely see part of her face with the dim lighting and the mask obscuring it, but none of that mattered when the feeling running through her every time the other woman touched her felt this good. Drunk on that feeling, it felt all too natural to take her hand, lean forward, and suggest in the Black Cat's ear, "Let's get off the dance floor."

"Oh?" she feigned innocence, as if she had no idea what other suggestion would come up upon moving somewhere else. "Don't you want to dance with me? I haven't even shown you all the ways I can move yet." One arm wrapped around the other's waist, hovering dangerously low on her back while the other rested at her neck, thumb tracing along the path of the make-up blood stain that was dripping there. "But, seeing as how you kept me waiting here by myself for so long," she teased, a full-toothed grin appearing, "I guess I'll let you make it up to me. Where are we going? And, more importantly, do you bite?" It was her turn to whisper in the other's ear. "Because I think I'd like that." If that didn't get the point across, her lips hovering just under her ear lobe and leaving a kiss against her jawline would.

della's staff was being unimaginably patient with her. how could crossing the sidewalk to get her coffee feel like running a marathon? her chest is tight. it hurts to breathe. her hand closes in a vice around her clutch. the exact amount of change for her double shot of espresso and a proper tip. the coins so dull and boring and gray. too slick in her hands. no one here actively hates her. there are no photographers pointing zoom lenses up her skirt (yet). it is a simple coffee shop in at the edge of her street. (though her bodyguard and the blacked out sedan is drawing a bit of a spectacle.) with one last deep breath, della slams the door behind her - annoyed above all else with herself - as she trapses across the sidewalk. an untouchable glamazon who wonders why there are so many people in here well past lunch. this idea of waiting in line is new to her, and she locks all of her energy in - visibly uncomfortable and effortlessly elegant in the same breath. this is the version of her that arrives when she is most uncomfortable, making her all sharp edges and chilly stone. that's when she sees him. the small child in the ferrari hat. in a flash she's in that other place with the squeak of the tires and the ball of flame. della startles, slamming into someone and spilling their coffee without even the strength to mutter an apology.

She was on her feet for maybe three seconds, if that, when she bumped into something and hard. "Oh, shit," she automatically gasped, watching at least half of her drink splatter to the floor. She opened her mouth to say something, not sure if it was going to be an apology or a 'can you watch where you're going?', but any thoughts of the coffee were whisked away once she saw who it was. "Del, Jesus Christ," she chuckled, placing her cup back down on the table and waving off any liquid from her hand before pulling the other girl into a hopefully non-sticky hug. "And I thought I was the clumsy one between us. If I were wearing heels today, this could've been a disaster." She pulled back for a moment, arm still around the other as she took in her expression and felt her own brows furrow with concern. "Hey, you okay, babe? Come sit with me."