[rp log] OHAI new OTP | Branwen & Eric
8 hours...it's 7:30am...it was WORTH IT
Eric felt the start of rain as he approached Branwen’s house. Something gnawed at him, telling him this wasn’t a good idea, but Rick the Ghost had seemed pretty convincing. He needed to patch things up with Branwen. He reached out and knocked on the door a few times, still trying to figure out what he might say to her when he couldn’t say I’m sorry.
After her shower, Branwen had changed into baggy pyjama pants and a new tank top and was curled on the couch with the dogs watching TV. As soon as there was a knock on the door Io began to growl. "Shut up dog." She growled back at the normally untameable and vicious Doberman. He instantly quieted down as she stood, avoiding the blood she hadn't cleaned up yet, and answered the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Eric. "What?" She demanded. The anger she'd felt hadn't quite fully vanished and she wasn't too pleased to see Eric on her doorstep. Her hair was still wet and smelt slightly of fruit and wild flowers, but the underlying scent of fresh blood lingered on her body.
He swallowed awkwardly, unsure of what to say now that she was standing right in front of him. “I, uhm, want to apologize,” He began. It was a fair start, unfortunately he couldn’t actually apologize. He looked down, scuffing a shoe against the ground. “The… thing that happened with the faery, it really was an accident.” His flat tone really wasn’t helping his case much. “I, uhm…” There were so many things he wanted to put at the end of that sentence. I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I’m sorry, but faeries are like a giant curse to vampires. I wish tonight hadn’t happened. I just want things to be okay between us.
But instead he dropped his gaze to the ground, letting the silence stretch and swallow the end of the sentence.
“If it was an accident, you’d say sorry.” Branwen said, her face dead serious as she crossed her arms. “But you can’t, can you?” She asked, cocking her head just the slightest. There was a slight bitterness to her voice, edged with slight anger. “I don’t understand it Eric. At the start of the night you were more interested in his…” her voice hitched a bit and she snapped her jaw shut, settling for glaring instead.
That thought was what bothered her the most, what had set off her anger. He’d preferred Warren’s body, and then his blood above hers. She was insulted by it, and not completely sure why.
He continued to study the ground and his feet, avoiding her angry and hurt glare.
“It was an accident,” Eric tried again, “He’s a faery.” He said the words like it would change everything if she could only understand that simple fact. “And I can’t tell you I’m sorry… I… don’t regret what I did to him tonight. I can’t.” He was overwhelmed by how awful an idea coming here to apologize to Branwen was when he couldn’t say the words. At least what he was saying wasn’t a lie, she’d be sure of that.
He felt the pattering of rain increase from its previous misting and the rhythmic tapping of the water made the silence feel so much longer.
Branwen opened her mouth, but nothing came to mind to say. So she snapped it shut again. She kind of wanted to hit him, or slam the door in his face. Maybe even hit him and then slam the door in his face. She’d gotten rid of the majority of her violence though, so she was able to take a breath and try and calm herself.
“He’s a faery, and that makes it all better?” she finally ground out. Her voice was forced, her eyes narrow. “Why are you here? You’re attempt at apologizing is…pathetic at best.”
He looked up from the ground glowering at her. To be fair he’d never done this before. Not ever.
“He’s a faery… I, vampires, cannot resist faeries. They,” He trailed off trying to think of words incredible enough to describe them, “They are like the best food you have ever had. Delicious and divine and amazing. Faery blood is like pure liquid desire. Like your full of every good thing that ever existed.” He went quiet, his gaze dropping back down to the ground, guiltily. “At the bar… I tried to resist it… but it washed over me. I couldn’t control it. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t control it.”
He stopped, pressing his mouth into a thin line. The words he was saying didn’t even make sense to him. This wasn’t even about Warren. This wasn’t why he came here, wasn’t what he’d wanted to talk about. She did something to him that he couldn’t explain and that didn’t make sense to him. His inability to fully articulate what he wanted to say to her was frustrating beyond belief.
“If faeries are such…a divine treat,” the words came out with a sneer, “Then how could you be stupid enough to hire him! Duh, you’re going to be in close proximity with him all the time. Him and his perfect…stupid glimmers…and…and” She huffed.
Warren wasn’t the real problem anymore. Her anger was feeding anger and she was just getting frustrated all over again. “Ugh! Why this?” She demanded, suddenly lashing out and pushing Eric. “You make me so mad!”
He glared at her again and opened his mouth to explain exactly why he had hired the faery. He snapped his mouth shut again indignantly as the only reason he could think of was he’d generate more money for the business. That and he hadn’t wanted to send him away, which was bad.
Then she’d pushed him. He hadn’t been expecting that at all. His strange vampire reflexes had attempted to kick in last minute, which resulted in him batting her arms away. “Stop it,” He snarled threateningly.
“No.” She snarled back, stepping forward onto the porch to try and push him again. “You stop it!”
He let her try and shove him, but remained rooted on the spot. He chuckled cruelly at her outburst, but he felt a inkling of his earlier anger as she struck him. It was nature, instinct.
"Don't....laugh at me!" She snarled. For the second time that night she surprised herself with the force that came out of her, knocking Eric off the porch to the lawn. She got over the surprise rather quickly, taking a few steps forward, remaining just under the overhang. "You! You're as bad as Dean Winchester!" She yelled at him, "You think you're so great, but you're not!"
An animalistic growl ripped from his chest as he pulled himself back onto his feet, leaving a small indent in the soft sod. He felt a surge of fury and his fingers curled into tight fists instinctually. The desire to fight and hurt and attack. Anger, hot and aggravated, pumped through his veins and before he realized he’d moved he was tackling Branwen off the porch, hitting her square in the stomach with his shoulder. He fell with her, but landed on top.
“Fannad fitta,” He spat, not bothering to curse at her in English.
Branwen hit the ground with a thud, the wind momentarily knocked out of her. This didn’t stop her anger, only fuelled it. She gasped, trying to catch her breath while snarling at the same time. She didn’t fight very often, but she’d been trained her whole life for it.
Managing to find her energy, she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and pushed, rolling them over so she was straddling him before rearing back and punching his face. “Asshole!”
He growled as she slugged him, blood spattering out of his mouth onto the ground. The taste fueled him, infuriated him. He grabbed her arm that was holding him down and yanked it up towards his head, using her weight against her and snapped at it viciously, puncturing the skin with sharp teeth. While she was distracted he flipped over onto his stomach and attempted to roll out from under her, scrambling a bit on the slick grass.
"You bit me! I can't believe you fucking bit me!" Branwen sneered, looking more surprised than anything. The distraction worked and she fell to the side with a slight 'oof' as Eric scrambled away. She scrambled to her own feet, having a more difficult time in socks and pyjama bottoms that were too long for her legs. She let out a low snarl, at a ready stance, bracing herself in case he came flying at her again with a new attack.
“Dra rygg ät helvete,” He snarled at her. He took a swing at her with his left, aiming for the stomach, followed quickly by a punch with his right hand, aiming for her face. His first swing moved at human speed, covering the second swing which came at her using his vampiric speed.
She’d managed to dodge the first swing, but got caught by the second. She hit the ground with a soft groan but was pushing herself up in an instant, glaring at him over her should as she got to her feet. Her eyes were black and there was a low snarl on her lips. As she stood, a faint black glow began to emanate around her as he wiped blood off her cheek from a small cut there.
“You think you can win against me Eric? You don’t even know what you’re fighting against,” She snarled. She moved, not as quick as him but fast enough, and was centimetres away from him in seconds. She reached up, grabbing his hair at the base of his neck and pulling him down, slamming him face first onto the ground. The force was enough to dent the earth slightly as she lifted his head and slammed it down again.
The first impact into the ground made stars dance across his vision and the second made his sight flicker black for a moment, like an old TV set. He could feel his body desperately trying to heal itself. Feeling shot back into his head in a throb of pain, making him bite back a groan. He managed to get a bit of footing, enough to lunge at Branwen’s legs in an attempt to bring her down. As she fell on him he threw an elbow, hoping it would connect with something. He was moving completely out of desperation now, she had the advantage… for the time being.
His lunge had taken her slightly off guard and as she fell his elbow connected with her ribs. She let out a soft cry, but managed to use Eric’s body to soften her fall before quickly crawling away. What little advantage she did have it was slipping away. Not only was her stamina down, she’d been killing all night, but her body couldn’t heal itself. The human in her was her greatest weakness.
She was crouched on the ground, looking like some feral wild cat, trying to catch her breath and push away the throbbing pains in her body. She only knew one way to win, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kill him.
Eric managed to roll onto all fours, readying himself for another lunge. He looked up to check where she was, wiping an annoying stream of blood from trickling into his eye. He looked at her, took in her condition, her bloody nose and fierce eyes. He blinked at her, hesitating for a minute.
“I have no idea what you’ve done, Branwen, but I am confused as all hell about you,” He said loudly, his ears were still ringing from the earlier impacts.
He lunged at her, again using his supernatural speed, aiming this time to pin her instead of to cause her pain. His hands desperately grasping for her wrists.
She made no smart comeback to his comment, though she wanted to. She was beginning to faulter, she could feel it. When he lunged she tried to dodge it, but he managed to catch her anyways. Naturally she struggled to escape him, letting out low growls of anger and annoyance. After a moment those ceased though.
Branwen knew full well Eric was a vampire and that he didn’t have the same compassion for humans as angels did. But maybe, just maybe, her favourite tactic could work on him. Evoke pity, get him to loosen his grip enough for her to escape. She still struggled against his grip though, having too much fight in her to completely give up.
He’d managed to hold her down and he was now pinning her with most of his weight, straddling her. He struggled to grab a hold of her hands, which was made harder by the rain. He finally gave up and grabbed her chin with one hand. He rested his forehead on hers, a dangerous move, and then leaned in further and kissed her lightly. The fight had completely ebbed out of him, leaving a resolved calm.
“Listen. Branwen. Listen to me,” He commanded, though it sounded awfully close to begging.
“I feel for you. Things… I haven’t felt since I was turned. Impossible things… things that have been dead for centuries. I don’t understand what you are doing to me, or how you are doing it. I don’t know if I like it…” He paused looking into her void-like black eyes, holding her gaze, “But I think I do.”
Branwen fell completely still the instant his lips touched hers. The anger flowed out of her, dissipating into the air like smoke, leaving only a very confused girl behind. That was not what she had been expecting. She was hurt and bleeding and ready to fight for her life, and she got this in return.
The black in her eyes melted away, revealing the true blue her eyes were meant to be. Eyes that held confusion and some fear. These things he was saying, she didn’t know what to make of them. “I…” she squeaked out before closing her mouth. She licked her lips and then tried again. “I’m not doing anything.” She finally said. “You…you’re the one…making me do stupid, reckless things. I don’t understand any of it.”
“I’m sorry that I’m hurting you,” He whispered, not sure that he’d be able to so the words. Although he had intended to speak them he was shocked when they actually came out. He looked into her eyes, hoping to find some direction or reassurance there. He was so lost and her fear and confusion simply mirrored his. “You’re doing /something/,” he repeated, kissing her again, not knowing what else to do. The simple action helped to ground him. It felt right.
She was in silent shock. Words like that… no one had ever apologized for hurting her before. She assumed no one cared if she was hurt, she was raised to hurt and be hurt. She didn’t know how to react to any of this. And when he kissed her again she just gave in and kissed him back. It was the only thing she could see to do. Her heart fluttered in her chest the longer they kissed, rain falling and hitting her skin, causing little twitches under her skin. She didn’t understand this feeling, but it was something that wasn’t anger for once, it felt better than that and she decided to just go with it.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes flicking over her face. He tried to push some of the hair, plastered by the rain to her forehead, away from her face. He slowly leaned back, sitting up, and tucking his arms under her to lift her with him. He slowly stood, picking her up gently, and getting her to her feet. He had an arm tucked around her waist for support, but he felt like he needed constant contact with her, some part of them need always be connected. He kissed the top of her head shakily, still awash in confusion over why he felt this way and how, and the growing confusion surrounding ‘they’, her and him together. What were they?
She was soaked through and through, shaking now the she was standing. She curled her arms around herself, staring up at him, unsure. What was she supposed to say, to do? Everything was all out of sorts, she was having a hard time collecting her thoughts into coherency. "I'm cold," she finally muttered, unable to come up with anything else to say.
He nodded and guided her numbly towards the house. The door had remained open during their fight and he moved her deftly through it, turning to close it. The click as the door shut sounding like a shout in the silence.
“I think you might need to go to the hospital,” Eric finally spoke, his voice, like the door, sounding loud and out of place in the quiet silence of the early morning.
“I live with a hospital,” She chuckled, trying not to shiver too much. She looked around a bit, hearing movement in the house and passing it off as Callisto and Io moving around the house. Sure enough a tiny Shiba Inu came padding over, looking overly pleased with herself. Not long after Rain came down the stairs, in nothing more than black sweat pants, and for some reason, a beanie pulled over his hair. He rubbed his eyes a bit before stopping and looking at Branwen and Eric. He cocked a brow and then looked at the floor, idly tonguing at his lip ring as he took in the blood on the floor. Finally he looked back up at Branwen.
“So….busy night?”
Eric was still latched onto Branwen, though he was sure he wasn’t helping her get warm. It was more likely that his body was actually stealing her heat, as her body tried to warm itself and the surrounding area. He slid away slightly, but his hand found its way into hers. He peered over at her, looking ridiculously guilty, but waiting to see what she would say. Whether it would be the truth or… shit. It had to be the truth. If he could have, Eric might have paled a bit. “Good morning, Mr. Quinnton,” Eric said like a child who’d just been brought home to meet his friend’s mother.
Rain stared at Eric incredulously for a second, scratching his head. “Dude, Mr. Quinnton was a man who lived maybe a thousand years or more ago. Just call me Rain.” He snorted a bit, eyeing the way Eric held onto Branwen. Branwen, just grinned her cheeky grin at Rain, twining her fingers with Eric’s. Rain just chuckled.
“Cyrus is going to have several words for you chicky. But you are nothing if you are not Jack’s little girl.” He sighed and stepped forward, studying her face, how she held herself, clearly trying to hide how hurt and bruised she was. “You’re going to get sick.” He concluded, “Go get changed and wake up Cy.” When she didn’t jump to it he frowned, “Now, beag aonarach, before I loose my gracious mood.” He said firmly. Branwen sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling away from Eric and heading promptly upstairs. In her condition she decided it was best to not piss off Rain.
Eric watched her go up the stairs until she disappeared. His gaze lingered on the stairs before nervously sliding over to look at Rain. “I, uhm, am going to head home,” He said speaking slowly like he was choosing his words very carefully. He began to back away from Rain, toward the door, his hand reaching out behind him blindly, searching for the handle.
"That would be a good idea," Rain agreed, not looking like he was going to hurt Eric, or even entertained ideas about it. Hell, he was considerably shorter than the man, but by simply crossing his arms, he was a fairly intimidating sight to behold. "Branwen's a pistol, and she probably deserved whatever you dished out to her. I give a free pass on that account, Cyrus isn't as gracious. You'd probably not want to get caught coming around for a while either..."
Eric seemed to consider this for a minute as he reached the door. “Would you mind telling Branwen that I will come by tomorrow at sunset?” Eric said purposefully, “And… your lawn is a bit of a mess.” The apology stuck in his throat, refusing to budge, so he gave Rain a sincere shrug and an apologetic smile, and then slipped out the door.
Eric felt the start of rain as he approached Branwen’s house. Something gnawed at him, telling him this wasn’t a good idea, but Rick the Ghost had seemed pretty convincing. He needed to patch things up with Branwen. He reached out and knocked on the door a few times, still trying to figure out what he might say to her when he couldn’t say I’m sorry.
After her shower, Branwen had changed into baggy pyjama pants and a new tank top and was curled on the couch with the dogs watching TV. As soon as there was a knock on the door Io began to growl. "Shut up dog." She growled back at the normally untameable and vicious Doberman. He instantly quieted down as she stood, avoiding the blood she hadn't cleaned up yet, and answered the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Eric. "What?" She demanded. The anger she'd felt hadn't quite fully vanished and she wasn't too pleased to see Eric on her doorstep. Her hair was still wet and smelt slightly of fruit and wild flowers, but the underlying scent of fresh blood lingered on her body.
He swallowed awkwardly, unsure of what to say now that she was standing right in front of him. “I, uhm, want to apologize,” He began. It was a fair start, unfortunately he couldn’t actually apologize. He looked down, scuffing a shoe against the ground. “The… thing that happened with the faery, it really was an accident.” His flat tone really wasn’t helping his case much. “I, uhm…” There were so many things he wanted to put at the end of that sentence. I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I’m sorry, but faeries are like a giant curse to vampires. I wish tonight hadn’t happened. I just want things to be okay between us.
But instead he dropped his gaze to the ground, letting the silence stretch and swallow the end of the sentence.
“If it was an accident, you’d say sorry.” Branwen said, her face dead serious as she crossed her arms. “But you can’t, can you?” She asked, cocking her head just the slightest. There was a slight bitterness to her voice, edged with slight anger. “I don’t understand it Eric. At the start of the night you were more interested in his…” her voice hitched a bit and she snapped her jaw shut, settling for glaring instead.
That thought was what bothered her the most, what had set off her anger. He’d preferred Warren’s body, and then his blood above hers. She was insulted by it, and not completely sure why.
He continued to study the ground and his feet, avoiding her angry and hurt glare.
“It was an accident,” Eric tried again, “He’s a faery.” He said the words like it would change everything if she could only understand that simple fact. “And I can’t tell you I’m sorry… I… don’t regret what I did to him tonight. I can’t.” He was overwhelmed by how awful an idea coming here to apologize to Branwen was when he couldn’t say the words. At least what he was saying wasn’t a lie, she’d be sure of that.
He felt the pattering of rain increase from its previous misting and the rhythmic tapping of the water made the silence feel so much longer.
Branwen opened her mouth, but nothing came to mind to say. So she snapped it shut again. She kind of wanted to hit him, or slam the door in his face. Maybe even hit him and then slam the door in his face. She’d gotten rid of the majority of her violence though, so she was able to take a breath and try and calm herself.
“He’s a faery, and that makes it all better?” she finally ground out. Her voice was forced, her eyes narrow. “Why are you here? You’re attempt at apologizing is…pathetic at best.”
He looked up from the ground glowering at her. To be fair he’d never done this before. Not ever.
“He’s a faery… I, vampires, cannot resist faeries. They,” He trailed off trying to think of words incredible enough to describe them, “They are like the best food you have ever had. Delicious and divine and amazing. Faery blood is like pure liquid desire. Like your full of every good thing that ever existed.” He went quiet, his gaze dropping back down to the ground, guiltily. “At the bar… I tried to resist it… but it washed over me. I couldn’t control it. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t control it.”
He stopped, pressing his mouth into a thin line. The words he was saying didn’t even make sense to him. This wasn’t even about Warren. This wasn’t why he came here, wasn’t what he’d wanted to talk about. She did something to him that he couldn’t explain and that didn’t make sense to him. His inability to fully articulate what he wanted to say to her was frustrating beyond belief.
“If faeries are such…a divine treat,” the words came out with a sneer, “Then how could you be stupid enough to hire him! Duh, you’re going to be in close proximity with him all the time. Him and his perfect…stupid glimmers…and…and” She huffed.
Warren wasn’t the real problem anymore. Her anger was feeding anger and she was just getting frustrated all over again. “Ugh! Why this?” She demanded, suddenly lashing out and pushing Eric. “You make me so mad!”
He glared at her again and opened his mouth to explain exactly why he had hired the faery. He snapped his mouth shut again indignantly as the only reason he could think of was he’d generate more money for the business. That and he hadn’t wanted to send him away, which was bad.
Then she’d pushed him. He hadn’t been expecting that at all. His strange vampire reflexes had attempted to kick in last minute, which resulted in him batting her arms away. “Stop it,” He snarled threateningly.
“No.” She snarled back, stepping forward onto the porch to try and push him again. “You stop it!”
He let her try and shove him, but remained rooted on the spot. He chuckled cruelly at her outburst, but he felt a inkling of his earlier anger as she struck him. It was nature, instinct.
"Don't....laugh at me!" She snarled. For the second time that night she surprised herself with the force that came out of her, knocking Eric off the porch to the lawn. She got over the surprise rather quickly, taking a few steps forward, remaining just under the overhang. "You! You're as bad as Dean Winchester!" She yelled at him, "You think you're so great, but you're not!"
An animalistic growl ripped from his chest as he pulled himself back onto his feet, leaving a small indent in the soft sod. He felt a surge of fury and his fingers curled into tight fists instinctually. The desire to fight and hurt and attack. Anger, hot and aggravated, pumped through his veins and before he realized he’d moved he was tackling Branwen off the porch, hitting her square in the stomach with his shoulder. He fell with her, but landed on top.
“Fannad fitta,” He spat, not bothering to curse at her in English.
Branwen hit the ground with a thud, the wind momentarily knocked out of her. This didn’t stop her anger, only fuelled it. She gasped, trying to catch her breath while snarling at the same time. She didn’t fight very often, but she’d been trained her whole life for it.
Managing to find her energy, she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and pushed, rolling them over so she was straddling him before rearing back and punching his face. “Asshole!”
He growled as she slugged him, blood spattering out of his mouth onto the ground. The taste fueled him, infuriated him. He grabbed her arm that was holding him down and yanked it up towards his head, using her weight against her and snapped at it viciously, puncturing the skin with sharp teeth. While she was distracted he flipped over onto his stomach and attempted to roll out from under her, scrambling a bit on the slick grass.
"You bit me! I can't believe you fucking bit me!" Branwen sneered, looking more surprised than anything. The distraction worked and she fell to the side with a slight 'oof' as Eric scrambled away. She scrambled to her own feet, having a more difficult time in socks and pyjama bottoms that were too long for her legs. She let out a low snarl, at a ready stance, bracing herself in case he came flying at her again with a new attack.
“Dra rygg ät helvete,” He snarled at her. He took a swing at her with his left, aiming for the stomach, followed quickly by a punch with his right hand, aiming for her face. His first swing moved at human speed, covering the second swing which came at her using his vampiric speed.
She’d managed to dodge the first swing, but got caught by the second. She hit the ground with a soft groan but was pushing herself up in an instant, glaring at him over her should as she got to her feet. Her eyes were black and there was a low snarl on her lips. As she stood, a faint black glow began to emanate around her as he wiped blood off her cheek from a small cut there.
“You think you can win against me Eric? You don’t even know what you’re fighting against,” She snarled. She moved, not as quick as him but fast enough, and was centimetres away from him in seconds. She reached up, grabbing his hair at the base of his neck and pulling him down, slamming him face first onto the ground. The force was enough to dent the earth slightly as she lifted his head and slammed it down again.
The first impact into the ground made stars dance across his vision and the second made his sight flicker black for a moment, like an old TV set. He could feel his body desperately trying to heal itself. Feeling shot back into his head in a throb of pain, making him bite back a groan. He managed to get a bit of footing, enough to lunge at Branwen’s legs in an attempt to bring her down. As she fell on him he threw an elbow, hoping it would connect with something. He was moving completely out of desperation now, she had the advantage… for the time being.
His lunge had taken her slightly off guard and as she fell his elbow connected with her ribs. She let out a soft cry, but managed to use Eric’s body to soften her fall before quickly crawling away. What little advantage she did have it was slipping away. Not only was her stamina down, she’d been killing all night, but her body couldn’t heal itself. The human in her was her greatest weakness.
She was crouched on the ground, looking like some feral wild cat, trying to catch her breath and push away the throbbing pains in her body. She only knew one way to win, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kill him.
Eric managed to roll onto all fours, readying himself for another lunge. He looked up to check where she was, wiping an annoying stream of blood from trickling into his eye. He looked at her, took in her condition, her bloody nose and fierce eyes. He blinked at her, hesitating for a minute.
“I have no idea what you’ve done, Branwen, but I am confused as all hell about you,” He said loudly, his ears were still ringing from the earlier impacts.
He lunged at her, again using his supernatural speed, aiming this time to pin her instead of to cause her pain. His hands desperately grasping for her wrists.
She made no smart comeback to his comment, though she wanted to. She was beginning to faulter, she could feel it. When he lunged she tried to dodge it, but he managed to catch her anyways. Naturally she struggled to escape him, letting out low growls of anger and annoyance. After a moment those ceased though.
Branwen knew full well Eric was a vampire and that he didn’t have the same compassion for humans as angels did. But maybe, just maybe, her favourite tactic could work on him. Evoke pity, get him to loosen his grip enough for her to escape. She still struggled against his grip though, having too much fight in her to completely give up.
He’d managed to hold her down and he was now pinning her with most of his weight, straddling her. He struggled to grab a hold of her hands, which was made harder by the rain. He finally gave up and grabbed her chin with one hand. He rested his forehead on hers, a dangerous move, and then leaned in further and kissed her lightly. The fight had completely ebbed out of him, leaving a resolved calm.
“Listen. Branwen. Listen to me,” He commanded, though it sounded awfully close to begging.
“I feel for you. Things… I haven’t felt since I was turned. Impossible things… things that have been dead for centuries. I don’t understand what you are doing to me, or how you are doing it. I don’t know if I like it…” He paused looking into her void-like black eyes, holding her gaze, “But I think I do.”
Branwen fell completely still the instant his lips touched hers. The anger flowed out of her, dissipating into the air like smoke, leaving only a very confused girl behind. That was not what she had been expecting. She was hurt and bleeding and ready to fight for her life, and she got this in return.
The black in her eyes melted away, revealing the true blue her eyes were meant to be. Eyes that held confusion and some fear. These things he was saying, she didn’t know what to make of them. “I…” she squeaked out before closing her mouth. She licked her lips and then tried again. “I’m not doing anything.” She finally said. “You…you’re the one…making me do stupid, reckless things. I don’t understand any of it.”
“I’m sorry that I’m hurting you,” He whispered, not sure that he’d be able to so the words. Although he had intended to speak them he was shocked when they actually came out. He looked into her eyes, hoping to find some direction or reassurance there. He was so lost and her fear and confusion simply mirrored his. “You’re doing /something/,” he repeated, kissing her again, not knowing what else to do. The simple action helped to ground him. It felt right.
She was in silent shock. Words like that… no one had ever apologized for hurting her before. She assumed no one cared if she was hurt, she was raised to hurt and be hurt. She didn’t know how to react to any of this. And when he kissed her again she just gave in and kissed him back. It was the only thing she could see to do. Her heart fluttered in her chest the longer they kissed, rain falling and hitting her skin, causing little twitches under her skin. She didn’t understand this feeling, but it was something that wasn’t anger for once, it felt better than that and she decided to just go with it.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes flicking over her face. He tried to push some of the hair, plastered by the rain to her forehead, away from her face. He slowly leaned back, sitting up, and tucking his arms under her to lift her with him. He slowly stood, picking her up gently, and getting her to her feet. He had an arm tucked around her waist for support, but he felt like he needed constant contact with her, some part of them need always be connected. He kissed the top of her head shakily, still awash in confusion over why he felt this way and how, and the growing confusion surrounding ‘they’, her and him together. What were they?
She was soaked through and through, shaking now the she was standing. She curled her arms around herself, staring up at him, unsure. What was she supposed to say, to do? Everything was all out of sorts, she was having a hard time collecting her thoughts into coherency. "I'm cold," she finally muttered, unable to come up with anything else to say.
He nodded and guided her numbly towards the house. The door had remained open during their fight and he moved her deftly through it, turning to close it. The click as the door shut sounding like a shout in the silence.
“I think you might need to go to the hospital,” Eric finally spoke, his voice, like the door, sounding loud and out of place in the quiet silence of the early morning.
“I live with a hospital,” She chuckled, trying not to shiver too much. She looked around a bit, hearing movement in the house and passing it off as Callisto and Io moving around the house. Sure enough a tiny Shiba Inu came padding over, looking overly pleased with herself. Not long after Rain came down the stairs, in nothing more than black sweat pants, and for some reason, a beanie pulled over his hair. He rubbed his eyes a bit before stopping and looking at Branwen and Eric. He cocked a brow and then looked at the floor, idly tonguing at his lip ring as he took in the blood on the floor. Finally he looked back up at Branwen.
“So….busy night?”
Eric was still latched onto Branwen, though he was sure he wasn’t helping her get warm. It was more likely that his body was actually stealing her heat, as her body tried to warm itself and the surrounding area. He slid away slightly, but his hand found its way into hers. He peered over at her, looking ridiculously guilty, but waiting to see what she would say. Whether it would be the truth or… shit. It had to be the truth. If he could have, Eric might have paled a bit. “Good morning, Mr. Quinnton,” Eric said like a child who’d just been brought home to meet his friend’s mother.
Rain stared at Eric incredulously for a second, scratching his head. “Dude, Mr. Quinnton was a man who lived maybe a thousand years or more ago. Just call me Rain.” He snorted a bit, eyeing the way Eric held onto Branwen. Branwen, just grinned her cheeky grin at Rain, twining her fingers with Eric’s. Rain just chuckled.
“Cyrus is going to have several words for you chicky. But you are nothing if you are not Jack’s little girl.” He sighed and stepped forward, studying her face, how she held herself, clearly trying to hide how hurt and bruised she was. “You’re going to get sick.” He concluded, “Go get changed and wake up Cy.” When she didn’t jump to it he frowned, “Now, beag aonarach, before I loose my gracious mood.” He said firmly. Branwen sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling away from Eric and heading promptly upstairs. In her condition she decided it was best to not piss off Rain.
Eric watched her go up the stairs until she disappeared. His gaze lingered on the stairs before nervously sliding over to look at Rain. “I, uhm, am going to head home,” He said speaking slowly like he was choosing his words very carefully. He began to back away from Rain, toward the door, his hand reaching out behind him blindly, searching for the handle.
"That would be a good idea," Rain agreed, not looking like he was going to hurt Eric, or even entertained ideas about it. Hell, he was considerably shorter than the man, but by simply crossing his arms, he was a fairly intimidating sight to behold. "Branwen's a pistol, and she probably deserved whatever you dished out to her. I give a free pass on that account, Cyrus isn't as gracious. You'd probably not want to get caught coming around for a while either..."
Eric seemed to consider this for a minute as he reached the door. “Would you mind telling Branwen that I will come by tomorrow at sunset?” Eric said purposefully, “And… your lawn is a bit of a mess.” The apology stuck in his throat, refusing to budge, so he gave Rain a sincere shrug and an apologetic smile, and then slipped out the door.