a dance with death

However faintly her humor might have fallen, he couldn’t pick it up, couldn’t grasp it between teeth that’d clenched all too tightly over his personal affair becoming slightly less personal every time he seemed to turn his back. “You really think that’s enough?” He couldn’t hide how heavily he disagreed, even if he thought to try. “You think trusting a hunter no different to me is enough? Because there’s a reason I hunt alone, Lenny.” She could entwine their fingers in much a permanent state and he might have still thought to find a way to pry himself loose from such attachment, the lingering gentle squeeze he offered before pulling his hand away and furthermore moving to stand not nearly as reassuring as she likely hoped it would be. Leaving seemed dramatic, the apex of his nature stemmed from everything that lived within Red Creek, everything that he’d come back for in the first place – ground zero was where he’d always belong, no matter the war he fought. “– You’re gonna’ wipe it from his memory.”

It wasn’t Sawyer’s secret to keep, and that most of all dug in against his ribcage and threatened to pierce through. A pill easier to swallow when they were the only two in control of how and what was said or done about one another and their effervescent connection. “Aren’t you?” Knuckles dug into the mattress below, Zeke swiveling in place to cast incredulous hues back to her. “That’s not how it works.” Not to mention he had, with greatly terrible intentions tortured his own other half and scarred her beyond immortal healing. Too many factors that he couldn’t openly control flit between a moment of overthinking and another where his worry was perfectly reasonable. “Between him and Tripp – they know too much.”

Feeling her shift behind him did little to uncurl the knot of his shoulders, the subtle shake of his head one aimed purely at her ignorance for why it bothered him so much. “I’m not asking you to take it back, I’m not asking you anything at all, Len.” He cut back, the deft sharpness of his tone not lost on irritation as he opted to shift and glance back at her. Buried among the covers, a woman so much smaller than she actually was, a vibrant piece of his past – present and for lack of his own self control, his future too. “That’s not what this is about, babe.” In truth, he was just concerned with who’d find out from here on out; who could wield it as some sickly sense of revenge, he’d pissed off a great many people, and killed a whole lot more. 

The stark roll of hues couldn’t have been any more blatant than it was, whites of his eyes vibrant in the dim glow of her room. It shifted his already wavering comfort until he perched the edge of the bed, calloused palm rubbing in across his shoulder with a hefty sigh. “Would you stop apologizing?” He could stay mad, and he would – their lack of caution, cast aside months ago now pressed an effervescent threat in against his throat. “I know it was a damn mistake, it shouldn’t have happened.. — it shouldn’t have even been a possibility that he’d find you there.” 

There were more than enough people within the tavern capable of being useful, despite the choice to stay here, he wasn’t foolish enough to think it’d last. However, knowing that both pack alpahas were within the building with him didn’t at all shirk his built in need to do something, the automatic instinct of those meant to lead, even if he no longer did.. Zach wasn’t by any means scared or worried about the prospect of death; but drowning didn’t seem like a good way to go, not today. Perhaps that alone, mottled with the uncertainty of where the last remaining members of his own pack were pulled him from his usual place in lingering shadows. “That door isn’t going to hold when the water rises.” The bar wouldn’t hold against flood waters, no on with any wits about them could believe as much, even with the water already slowly trickling in through the sliver of space between the floor and rich mahogany. 

“You could spend your time worrying, sure.” Jason grinned, despite the winds and the rain hitting the windows, creating terrifying noises one could find only in a nightmare. All he could think about was Nick and where he was, hoping that his younger brother had made it to one of the safe locations. “Or you could come join me and have a drink. Sounds like a better idea, don’t you think?”

“I spend my life worrying, but the sentiment is nice. I appreciate it.” Her mind reeled over the locations of various important figures in Lenny’s life, where they could be holed up and whether they made it past the flooding to safety. Another crack of thunder and she pivoted towards the man with a smile. “---Maybe just one drink.”

“What?” Caitlyn sat up slightly, incredulous hues all but glaring across at her best friend. “No..– No you don’t have to be okay with it. What kind of question even is that? Oh right, because my one failed relationship went’ perfectly.” Before Joshua, she’d been little more than terrified of letting anyone close enough, too afraid of relapsing, her expertise didn’t run all too deeply. “I might have followed that rule if you’d told me about him in the first place — how else am I meant to find everything out? Sometimes you make dragging you too easy. Maybe you should find out though — Do you want to know if it’s even possible?” She could have begged for conversation to go back to the mysterious man that had clearly caught Lenny’s attention, but she’d never been all that confident in brushing things off. “You say that like it’s easy, like I haven’t been trying.” How could she? Everything she’d become had gone so violently against the person she was – who she wanted to be, that guilt etched itself beneath her skin like a scar she couldn’t stop covering. “I’m not..– I’m not waiting for him. He hates me, Len.– He still hates me for leaving and I don’t know how to make him understand why.”

Quinn eyed her friend with a knowing look, biting down into the lime to calm the burn in the back of her throat. “Take your pick of spirit”, she laughed, knowing her drinking face had yet been mastered or that her tolerance measured up to much of the other’s. She ended her nights with a stiff drink, but it was only one before crashing into her nightmares. This was a whole new kind of evening for her. “Not for me, I can tell you that much. Quinn doesn’t make good decisions on tequila.”

"Both, please and thanks.” A genuine, inebriated cackle spilled forth as Lenny imagined her friend atop the bar behaving erratically while under the influence. “Am I about to see a lot more of you than I bargained for? Sounds like we need to turn up the good time and find you somebody cute, I like the idea of you making a bad decision tonight.”

         “Because it’s your home, and as much as it would be the easy road to leave and never look back — you can’t. The people here stop you.” The words left his mouth before he could so much as give them a second thought. Though it was clear he was speaking for himself as much as he was her. “Never sounds about right.” He remarked, an attentive chuckle surpassing his lips at the thought of Caitlyn and her stubborn tendencies. “How is she?”. He asked somewhat curious. “I doubt she’ll want to hide away, never has been her style.”

          “I’m not believing anything until I saw it with my own eyes. That idiot should make his words come true, better sooner than later, and if he does, he gets drinks for free from me for the rest of his life. But until then – nah, don’t really think he’s telling the truth,” Seth pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So what you’re telling me..— Is that it’s not nothing to you.” At least, that’s what she deducted from her very vague explanation. “But he’s made it clear it’s nothing and you’re.. pretending to be okay with that? Or you don’t even realize you’re not okay with that.” Pulling at her own dark locks, she lazily began twisting and tying knots as she spoke. “Easier said than done,” a lame comment with a sharpened sigh. Caitlyn had more than a little trouble letting go of the eight months she’s reigned her own terror on the people she’d known. There’d always been the possibility of forgetting completely, but in her mind, she couldn’t so easily find a way to live with it by cutting the loss of others by her hand out of her mind. Taking hues from her hair only long enough to peer up at the witch, she shrugged, “Nothing. — Not really.”

“So kick up that witchy woo bullshit and fix it.” he shrugged almost nonchalantly and with little care for whatever mark he’d left on the solid wood door behind him. “Technically, I’m helping .—- gotta give you something productive to do with that power of yours.” A backhanded compliment at best, his distaste for one of the only reasons he kept her around wasn’t some secret, and nor did he even try to hide it. “The most what? Charming? Handsome? Chiseled? No point getting all shy now.” He hadn’t missed it – he very rarely ever did, the linger of doe like hues that skirted their way across his chest. “You’re bordering house wife, don’t tell me you quit your job at that cesspool and decided catering to me and my laundry needs were more important.” Pulling the fridge open only to close it a moment later, he laughed roughly. “Civilized, she says.”

"I do every time that you come around. Last week was the headboard, or don’t you remember? Stop playing Incredible Hulk with my stuff.” Her nose scrunched for a moment, the itching desire to grow angry with his comment bubbling beneath the surface until she simmered. God did she loathe when he insulted her abilities. “I’ve been very productive lately, thank you. I’m actually in the middle of mentoring someone, he’s been teaching me a lot as well.” Then she tacked on, just so he wouldn’t garner the wrong impression, “Light magic and all that jazz.” Each of Zeke’s words were true, though she refused to give him and his ego the satisfaction. “---Intolerable.” Now the brunette turned back to him, green hues shooting the hunter a genuinely irritated expression. “Like hell I’d ever quit my job and give up my independence to play housewife for you. I’d rather choke.” Was he wrong? Lenny refused to dwell long enough to give his statement credit. “You’re an idiot.”

“Uh, this one right here. The ‘Lesser Barrier Casting’ right here,” Nick said, scrambling to get the book to show it to her. It didn’t occur to him there was a reason not to trust her; he was happy to find someone who understood his problem. “I…” He paused, thinking about her words. “I guess I was a little distracted. Do you think that’s what threw it off too?” Nick tilted his head - a deal? The offer by itself seemed…not the way he usually did things. But curiosity piqued his interest, and after a  moment he nodded. “Sure. What kind of deal? I mean, I don’t have a lot to offer, honestly, but…”

"Easy.” She replied after a moment’s glance at the spell in question, attempting to mask how her hues already probed at the next page for any valuable information. “Absolutely. You need perfect concentration or else your spell could backfire and somebody in town will notice an invisible barrier around the produce section.” A light shrug lifted her petite shoulders as though it were the simplest of offers. “You let me take a peek at your grimoires and I’ll help you master these basics. A win-win for both of us.”

          “That was one night, and through no fault of their own. Then again this town has never been all happy endings and white picket fences so I don’t know why we expect anything more. Mhmm, more like never.” He remarked knowing too well just how stubborn the brunette was. “Yeah, since that night everything went tits up. I’m sure you’ll run into her sooner or later. Doesn’t it always suck?”