"Non, Djinn! Je suis désolé!" He called weakly as she left, watching her with an aching heart stuffed in his stomach as she strutted away. So beautiful and loyal even after he'd been so cruel. When he was alone, he slipped back into the chair, the weight of the guilt threatening to pull him through the floor. "Priest..." He whispered his lover's name. "Oh, god..." How would he ever heal this wound? Could he carry on without his love ever knowing? Could he lie by omission until he'd forgotten all about the mistake he'd make? Would he spend a lifetime wondering if Djinn would ever betray their secret?No, he would have to tell Priest, and before Djinn could, but would his raven haired angel cast him away? No, Priest couldn't risk that, could he?He left the apartment in a huff, ignoring his band of friends that were gathered in the living room, Djinn among them. He knew she would not be so bold as to mention what had happened in their friend's bedroom just then, but everyone would know that there was tension. He snatched up two beers from a cooler and fled. He would get drunk and attempt to distract himself from this whole thing.

"You b-brought y-you-yourself close to m-m-me and s-sedu-du-duced me!" He stammered, "You knew I- I still would l-love you... You knew I could not resis-is-ist y-you... You came to me with th-that--..." He lifted his hands at her, as if to cup her essence, but exhaled in a swift breath and pulled his eyes away as if it hurt to look. He ached deep down to his bone marrow, feeling heavy and weak. He could not stand even if she lit a fire behind him. "Leave me, p-please, you vixen... Grant this dirty man m-mercy..." 

His eyes burned wet with tears, and when he blinked they spilled down his cheeks. He stumbled back into the chair, folding his shaking hands over his eyes. "Oh, mon ange..." He whimpered softly. "Oh mon amour... pardonnez-moi... pardonne mon péché..."

"Crasseux putain!" He cried out, tears welling in his eyes. It hurt that she would do this to him, that he would do this to Priest. He just couldn’t think, he could only feel pain and hurt. “Succube sorcière! Qu’avez-vous fait?”The urge to strike her filled him, the urge to destroy himself from the inside out racked his bones. Was this how his lover felt when he sliced his pretty little wrists? 

Andrew stepped back and pulled her with him, lifting her onto her toes and dragging her dainty frame until something, anything hit the back of his knees. He fell into an old, soft chair, sinking down with her atop him. He adjusted her to straddle his lap, his arms snaking closely around her. Seeking comfort in her familiar femininity, he rested a cheek against her breasts, warm and soft. He listened to her heart beat swiftly and steadily beneath it, like a river, and craned his head to kiss below her neck, feeling that same pulse in her throat. "Chaton." He murmured, nuzzling into her neck, his strong arms caressing her back softly as if she might break under his hold. 

Andrew was hardly aware of his actions until his lips were on hers, tasting like cigarettes and sweet, fruity lip gloss. "Mon belle fille..." He whispered, "Mon bichette..." His hand slid from her neck up to caress her face while another wrapped around her waist. Andrew held her close to him, re-learning her petite little body, where she was soft and where she was strong. His mind was blank, the only thing he ever knew in that moment was her body pressed to his. 

He shook his head, bidding the conversation to disappear. He was too stuck on how good thing had been he forgot why they had had to end, forgot how his life had changed since then. He rested his forehead against hers, cool fingers gently caressing her neck. “Tu me manques...” He confessed, the whisper breathing against her lips.

#Ship; Thick as Thieves