|MOVIE DATE|

[chasinghumanity]

It was a date, but it wasn't. It really, really wasn't. Mitchell kept reminding himself of this over and over, but the word kept creeping up and sticking itself in his brain. There are some stupid mistakes that, no matter how much you tell yourself they're stupid and that you should forget about them, only keep coming back to you. In fact,

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[justsookie]

"All of it," Sookie murmured, gaze dropping back down to the screen as she let her head rest again. Even though Mitchell suggested that it was all more of the same at the core, Sookie found herself hard-pressed to believe it. Maybe it was a European thing, all politics and people strong enough not to let war get to their heads, who fought for ground using song even under the most impossible of circumstances. It wasn't a complete picture, perhaps only the pinks and oranges of a fight which was so much more grisly at the core, but it was lively, passionate, something Sookie wondered if the others in Bon Temps would experience at all. So many of them lived day to day, content with the past repeating itself and dishing out the same plate, and a part of her then realized that the problem she felt in Tabula Rasa was that it was much of the same thing.

It didn't feel quite like living. More like just getting by. And of course, Sookie felt so selfish for the thought, sitting as she was with someone who probably could feel nothing more fortunate than regaining his humanity. Something Sookie had, in fact, even if it was so much easier to forget in the wake of her telepathy. She pursed her lips, exhaling softly, hands clasped in her lap.

"I remember, when vampires came out of the coffin back home, that's when I started feelin' like I could breathe. Could hope for somethin'. Obviously, I was just takin' too much for granted."

[chasinghumanity]

He could tell it wasn't quite the answer Sookie had wanted. People, vampires included, had this tendency to change the past with their own perspective. Things were more brilliant or duller. It was either excitement and charged atmospheres or miserable sorrow or even mind-numbing mediocrity. It never just was which was how Mitchell tended to work. He couldn't glorify that section of the past. The best stories are about you, Mitchell, Seth had said. Those best stories had their start in this time, the 20s, the 30s, the 40s. The glory days of youth. Now, in his older age, Mitchell was hard-pressed to romanticized an age that let him get away with everything.

The 60s and the 70s were about change, and he changed a lot then, but he couldn't pin that on the era. Josie had everything to do with that, and Mitchell wouldn't take away from her memory by making her just a product of her time. The 80s and 90s were difficult, but by then Mitchell often felt like he'd seen it all.

The 50s were however all around boring.

"Ah, everybody's different," he said, trying not to point out that, yeah, Sookie was doing just that a bit, taking it for granted, but even so it was nothing he could blame her for. "Different levels of priorities, different goals and wants. Different things to get them going. Just because we don't see how great something is until it's gone or changed doesn't make it any less great."

[justsookie]

The statement hit Sookie hard, somewhere in the middle of her chest, pressing against her sternum with a sharp pain. She closed her eyes then- even if she'd lost her parents at a young age, most everything in Sookie's life had remained there, each piece fitting together well in a life that worked, even if it was never the ideal. To have it all eased from her over the course of a couple of weeks, and then removed entirely upon her arrival on the island, it wasn't a change that Sookie had grown accustomed to yet, nor one that she imagined she ever would. She was still treating the island and its inhabitants like people she'd known back home, with who she could push and push and never really have them run away, because that was how Bon Temps was, everyone drawn together as a collective, the good along with the bad.

Surprising how, despite the physical limitations of the island, it seemed so much easier for people to slip beyond her reach. Maybe it was just the impression that the place left, taking people to and fro without warning. Everything ached in its absence- not having Bill by her side, not having gran to return to, not even having Tara to verbally spar with. The worst part was that she couldn't draw close to very many people without driving them away. At least, that was the impression certain people gave her. And as that chill of a fear overcame her again, sending shivers through Sookie's body, she froze up. Tensed.

"No, it doesn't. It's unfortunate that life never even gives us a warnin', though," she murmured under her breath, eyes fixed ahead until, a brief moment later, Sam picked up a fallen chair on the screen. Laughing, she looked up and at Mitchell, a disbelieving grin on her face. "Is that it? Is that the chair you knocked over?"

[chasinghumanity]

Frowning, Mitchell noted the slight shudder that went through her body, how her shoulders suddenly tensed. Nothing in the movie had become so dire as to cause her to react like that. And he couldn't think of a damn thing he'd done wrong; if anything he'd gone easy on her. (Funny how he felt this need to watch his step with Sookie sometimes or wonder he'd done something wrong. Usually he just didn't worry.)

Careful not to dislodge her head, he shifted his arm so he could wrap it around her shoulders, try to draw her a bit closer. In the midst of this, he had to blink and look up at the screen again. A grin replaced his frown for a second as he nodded. "Yeah, I ran through for some reason. I don't know, the guy told me to look like I was in a rush. They were too caught up in the stars to notice I didn't actually show up on camera."

Explanation done, he quickly looked at Sookie again as he squeezed her arm. "You alright? Cold or something?"

[justsookie]

As much as Sookie tried to shake off any unease, and as well as it felt to have Mitchell's arm draped around her shoulders, she only found that her pulse started racing more and the grin gradually faded from her face- she wondered if he felt it, with her being pressed against his side now, the subtle beat by the side of her ribcage as it held against him. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Sookie let everything out in a slow exhale, nodding her head lightly. "I'm okay," she smiled, even as her lips pressed together tightly after.

One by one, she relaxed her muscles, the equivalent of forcing herself not to breathe or think, focusing instead only on the physical details around her. Sookie's eyes lingered on the fingerless gloves Mitchell wore, and with his spare hand her fingers threaded, curiously examining long fingers and feeling the flush rise to her face. She laughed noiselessly at how much she seemed to care about it all, being next to him in the most normal of circumstances- maybe this was what had girls falling for men left and right, the ease and the lack of danger. A sense of comfort that she'd never quite achieved with Bill, given the pallor of his face.

"But you're really warm," she remarked, the movie lost to her entirely. "And I think you would've looked good in black and white. Their loss."

[chasinghumanity]

Ah, flattery. The best of distractions. Mitchell let it pass, assuming it was some reaction Sookie did not want to talk about and something unrelated to him. She wouldn't let him keep his arm around her if she were uncomfortable with him, now would she?

"Wasn't always," he reminded her, his grin almost rakish for a fleeting moment. The gloves had done excellent work of fooling lots of people, so much so he'd worn them nearly every day since they'd come into fashion (and out of). He was strangely proud of them, even if he got some teasing for it.

"But I didn't look back in black and white. Before I died, I had a couple pictures taken. Looked a bit daft, just from the poses, but not bad. I think I look better in color and in flesh though."

[justsookie]

The longer Mitchell had his arm around her, the more comfortable Sookie grew, her lips curved in an easy, lopsided grin as she turned slightly onto her side, pulling up closer. She wondered at one thing in particular- how little Mitchell tried to possess her, never even attempting to wrap a hand around her wrist and proclaim her as his own. Growing up, she'd never assumed that men were meant to behave in such a way, but after those that she'd spent significant time with- Sam, Bill, even Eric- Sookie thought it some type of masculine impulse. Perhaps she had been wrong, after all.

"Wasn't always, but you were, originally," Sookie pointed out, smiling as a reflex, still idly playing with his fingers. "And look, at least you aren't so tan that you'd make up the gray in grayscale."

Frowning soon after, Sookie lifted her gaze to Mitchell again, shifting with confusion, hand resting on his chest. "But wait, you only had pictures taken before you died? So you couldn't- your image couldn't be captured? That's... so weird."

[chasinghumanity]

He blinked and frowned, surprised by that. In all the myths and stupid movies, the vampires in Mitchell's world had always been the odd ones out. Able to walk in sunlight, able to eat food, able to like garlic if it was to your taste. Those other tenants of vampire lore had become almost laughable to him over the years. But a few had held true. The bit about reflections and images had almost always held true.

"Yeah, no, not at all," he confirmed with a slight look of wonder. "Y'mean, yours could? Like a regular picture or video camera? Did they have reflections too?"

[justsookie]

Turned fully on her side, Sookie paid no more attention to the film once given a better topic. She'd known, of course, that her vampires weren't the only kind out there- she knew that from the very moment that she stumbled across Angel and Spike, whose television show she'd watched for so long. But Mitchell's vampires were still somewhat shrouded in mystery for her, and it was like having the opportunity to discover something new all over again, one that she relished, particularly when knowing that the adverse effects no longer held.

"Mmhmm," Sookie nodded earnestly, not sure whether or not to smile and ending up with a slight quirk to her lips. "They could take pictures, they've got reflections- that whole story was a set-up so that they could hide better among the livin', before they came out of the coffin to everyone. Seein' a cross isn't a problem for them, and garlic's just a minor irritant. But the stuff that is true is that they... they burn under the sun, I think they even need t'sleep durin' the day to give their bodies rest. They run real fast, faster'n my eyes can follow, they can't consume anythin' but blood, silver hurts 'em real bad, and they can make most people do their biddin', if they know how to talk just the right way. I can't be affected by that, not sure why, but uhm."

Sookie's gaze lowered for a moment as she held a hand to her lips. "Their blood too, it's... it's special. It can heal people, and if you drink too much, it's like bein' high on drugs- you can sense things differently, you feel strong. But it also makes a bond between the vampire and human. That vampire'll always know where I am, and I'll feel this irrational attraction to him no matter what he does. I was- was tricked into it, once. I didn't know."

[chasinghumanity]

Still frowning slightly, Mitchell listened with rapt attention. Not confused anymore, he marveled at what, to him, seemed almost impossible. He shifted onto his side as well -- the movie was something he'd watched a thousand times already if not more -- arms sort of crossed over his chest for lack of anywhere else to go.

He wanted to ask more about the vampires, about their organization, their system. How they could maintain that kind of uniform lie throughout the world, not just in one place. True, there were a couple of things in lore that didn't hold true for all vampires that Mitchell knew, but most were held tight to ancient laws not everyone really understood.

The fascination died though when Sookie mentioned how she'd been tricked. The simultaneous grin and frown parted ways, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards and the frown only deepening. "He did what?" Mitchell asked, his voice dropping to something rougher than his usual light tone. "That's sick."

[justsookie]

"I'd throttle him if I could," Sookie agreed with a vigorous nod, sinking further down on the bed until her head sank in the pillow there, hair spilling out over the fabric. She liked the way that Mitchell looked from below, liked craning her neck to look up at someone at times, just the feeling that she could trust someone else to take the reins for a while, someone who would keep watch for her. Not quite able to figure out what else to say, she continued with the story, still fresh in her mind. "There was a... bombin', basically, organized by an anti-vampire organization. Eric, he flew in front to keep me from gettin' hurt, took a couple of silver bullets in the chest, and asked me to suck 'em out. It was so gross, 'cause it was Eric of all people, and apparently entirely unnecessary since the bullets would've been pushed out by him healin'. He knew that, I didn't."

A smile swept onto her face, flickering on and off, though her eyes remained fixed on him even through the defensive measure. "The thing is, I think he's just interested in what it was I could do, back home. Read minds. Even Bill, when he first came to Bon Temps, he asked me what I was, and- and I don't know, the more I think about it here, the more I wonder if maybe that's all anyone's interested in. But here, Tabula Rasa, it's truly like I can start over, no blood bond to Bill or Eric."

From a close enough distance, everything became clear to the senses. The slight curl of hair on his chest as it peeked out from the collar of his shirt. The dark slash of brows, the way his lips parted slightly when upset. She nearly laughed then, cheeks bright, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. "It's kind of scary, the ideas I get. But liberatin', too."

[chasinghumanity]

"Y'should," Mitchell agreed gruffly. At least, at the very slightest least bit, only comparatively and never as a virtue in its own, there was something honest about killing someone. It wasn't about playing games or control. Just pure want, take, have. All this other stuff, it got to Mitchell. All the other things wrapped up in what he was and the power and the persona. The using. The entitlement and supremacist feelings. Like every vampire wasn't once a living, breathing human being, cherishing his own life just as well as the next man.

Even with Sookie laughing about it, he couldn't throw off the sick feeling just yet. The mention of Bill piqued his interest as well. Did she mean she had tasted Bill's blood too? Had he been using her the same way this Eric arse had?

And yet, with her smiling like that, looking happy and untroubled, Mitchell couldn't bring himself to drag down her mood with questions and dismay. He let people live however they wanted, in ignorance thought it may be, for as long as it didn't do real damage because in a lot of ways he knew he was fooling himself. Who was Mitchell to say she shouldn't be laughing, shouldn't be so carefree with her own life?

Really, who was he, to her especially?

He shook his head slightly, giving in to her smile, letting his own frown disappear. "Like what?" he asked, shifting just a shade closer and resettling on his elbow, propped up a bit to look down at her. Bogart and Henreid fought in veiled, restrained words for Ilse behind them, but their voices were low enough that it all sort of blending in to a soothing background noise. The corner of Mitchell's mouth tugged upwards. "What scary thoughts have you got up in your head?"

[justsookie]

Even as Sookie poured all of the warmth into her smile, her laugh- she'd been keeping secrets all her life, and that's what got her as far as she was- there was still the very real sense that her mind was still brittle at the edges. Cracks scattered every which way. One could easily pretend that the dark edges dug into the ground like roots, but it would have been a lie. After so many years of dodging and then finally having her family uprooted entirely by the series of deaths which surrounded them, there was nothing truly to ground Sookie, and that much scared her. She had been quick to latch onto Bill after gran's death, quick to latch onto Caliban shortly after arrival, and maybe she was just searching for trouble again as her hand slowly eased around Mitchell's neck, pulling him down further, but it couldn't be helped.

The guilt, she forcibly pressed away, not wanting it to ruin the moment or be a part of anything she felt toward Mitchell in specific; he'd been there, he'd listened to what she had to say and he didn't judge, he'd taken an interest and through it all, Sookie only found herself wanting to know more. Even if, whenever she seemed close, that smile of his returned, bright and enthusiastic and a better shield for everything that lay under than any other measure Sookie had seen. It made things easy to forget.

"Like this," she whispered, eyes hazy as she pulled herself up to him, just enough to press her lips to his, indulgent with a hint of desperation, fingers weaving through his hair and pulling insistently as her free arm looped around his neck. His lips were warm, skin heated as she quickly ran a tongue over them, tasting saltiness mixed with the tart of pineapple.

[chasinghumanity]

He didn't have to be a genius to know what she had been doing, her warm fingers running along his skin, settling on his neck. He didn't have to be particularly smart to know that he should have pulled away, his own heart aching at the closeness of her. But he shut his eyes and let it happen anyway, hoping, just praying that this was right, that it was time and this was the girl.

A soft, helpless groan escaped from the back of his throat and he cradled her face with his hand, the other arm still holding him up. That tension which had built up in his chest, unbeknown to him (except it was known, and ignored), broke and flooded all through is body, adrenaline and hormones and (if not love then) affection, making his skin tingle and heat. His lips parted at the touch of her tongue, inviting her in, deepening the kiss, just a little bit more.

Just a little bit more before he would say enough. Just a bit more.

[justsookie]

For a moment, all the pieces came together logically- Mitchell having invited her to the dance, his confusion at having her leave to tend to Cal, the date set up to watch Casablanca of all things- and, emboldened, Sookie found herself returning the fervor, a slight gasp at the warmth of his tongue before she continued, insistent. All the doubts scattered, thoughts of what it might do to Annie, of what Bill would think, or whether or not the moment was all simply physical, to be tossed away as soon as the waves subsided. She couldn't think, could hardly breathe, and instead everything centered on the fact that something was being reciprocated, down to the touch of a hand on her cheek, and that it was unfamiliar.

"Mitchell," she breathed, even with her mouth pressed against his, fingers raking down his chest until a hand rested on his hip, thumb grazing over the curve of bone. Sookie nipped at his lips, tugging lightly until she captured them again, hardly remembering to inhale for fear of upsetting awareness. In that moment, she could not help but marvel at it all- not hearing a single thought, the soft warmth of his breath fanning over her skin. It was all human, every last blessed moment forming a need that coiled inside her stomach along with the butterflies.

[chasinghumanity]

God, why did she have to touch him like that? Say his name like that? Such simple little things, but it had been a while since he'd been in this position, and an even longer while before that. Not just the kissing, not just the heat but the genuine care, then tender affection, a tiny flame of something in his heart that, given enough tending, could grow into a blaze. John Mitchell was a man who pinned his dreams on every passing star, but he knew to take them back well before anyone crashed to earth. He'd fucked up with Lauren, with Daisy, with a hundred other girls before either of them, but he knew how to recognize a good one. Someone special, something special. It was like sweet agony to be on the cusp of something, something that could be amazing with Sookie, just kissing and touching. He didn't think for a moment it could be anything but amazing from here on out on this path.

Or did he? Lucy was supposed to have been his something special, his only one after Josie. Lucy was supposed to have saved him. Instead she'd betrayed him worse than anyone ever had.

And just that thought -- not bitter or angry or even sad -- just that thought there was enough to make him pull away. Sookie was more than just a snog and a shag, Mitchell knew that for damn sure. He couldn't keep kissing her with thoughts of Lucy in his head.

"Sookie," he started, the short syllables already apologetic. "I can't. I'm sorry." God, it pained him to do it, and you could hear it as his voice scraped over the apology. He took his hand away from her face only to pull her arms from around his neck, gently but firmly. "I'm not-- I can't yet."

God damn his stupid fucking head.