|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]

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.

[justsookie]

'No' was on the tip of her tongue as Sookie felt her arms being tugged away, but she bit it back viciously, couldn't bring herself to protest with the look on his face. She laid back on the bed, both arms crossed over her chest and elbows at her sides, until her hands could grip both shoulders strongly, forming a wall between the two of them. From the other side, everything became clear- or as clear as it could be, given what she knew. Because she had, after all, protested in the very same way once, pulled away from a kiss because she couldn't stop thinking of Bill, and couldn't the situation here only be worse?

He'd had someone, after all, someone perfect and accepting and she had given him that sort of untouchable love by virtue of being with him to the end. Maybe not every day, maybe not passionately, but there had been an end there that was irreversible, tying everything off nicely, the sort of experience one could only look back on with affection and nostalgia. That was what she'd wanted with Bill- and yet, was it? Could she promise that she'd stay with Bill until she grew all old and wrinkled, while he was frozen in time, never changing? The fact that all the details were worn away by the island didn't change the fact that all Sookie could see in herself were those shortcomings, that she used people and was frighteningly capable of running off, and it wasn't wrong of her as a person to have them. But it would have been wrong to foist all of that, perhaps, on someone who had been touched by an undeniable good and lived better for it. Josie.

Idly, Sookie wondered what the others were like. Bill's wife, Caliban's psychic. She shuffled away, then, quickly coming out from under Mitchell and throwing her legs over the two mattresses pushed together, to where she then stood after pushing herself off, facing Mitchell but quickly darting her gaze away. "N-no, that's fine," she reassured, words tumbling quickly as she felt a shameful flush rise to her cheeks and her shoulders hunch in defense. "Actually, I should be the one apologizin', I don't even know what came over me, I mean- you told me this date was just a friendly date, I shouldn't have been so forward- sometimes I'm as thick as a sack of bricks. So... so I'm sorry, Mitchell, and maybe I should go."

[chasinghumanity]

"No!" he said immediately, then was left with nothing else to follow. Nothing sensible anyway. He didn't want her to run off thinking God knew what, creating a rift between them just because of one kiss that shouldn't have even have happened. (Or should it have? Maybe it was the pulling away that shouldn't have happened.) Licking his lips, Mitchell shifted across the mattress, following Sookie's lead and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. His feet landed on solid ground but he could only sit there, gloved hands gripping the thin metal base frame of the bed, wondering what to say.

"It's not-- I don't want you t'think I'm not, you know..." He abandoned that train of thought, fruitless as it was, with a shake of his head and fluttering blink of his eyes. "I like you, Sookie. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like just being around you," Mitchell explained, an earnest tumbling out of words as he gazed up at her, willing her to stay put with his eyes. "I think you're special and gorgeous and I'd be lying if I said I never thought about kissing you or about.. something more between us. But I wasn't tryin' for anything here. Partly 'cause... I didn't think you were int'rested like that and partly 'cause--" And now his gaze dropped, dancing over the floor, looking for something to focus on besides Sookie's feet and dark corners. It wasn't shame for being hurt, for having loved and lost or whatever, but shame for being fooled, for what he'd done after, for not being strong enough to forget his feelings for someone who thought he was the Devil.

"I got hurt just before coming here. Hurt bad by a woman." He hesitated with a strangled, weak laugh. "Stabbed in the back, more like. And I can't do anything serious just now, I don't think. I wish I could," he said, gaze rising up to meet Sookie's again, hopefully. But even as he said it, he had to wonder if Sookie was really ready for something like that either. He knew Sookie and Bill's relationship had its problems but that didn't make it any less of a relationship, anything to be cherished less, any easier to let go of. Mitchell wouldn't do Sookie a disservice or kick his own self while he was down by thinking maybe she was just grabbing for whatever man was available to ease the loss. No, there was a connection, but maybe the timing wasn't right for either of them.

"I wish I could say different, but I just don't think I can."

[justsookie]

Sookie could feel her hands tightening as they gripped the soft fabric of her dress, the only anchor immediately within her grasp as she stood in the middle of the room. It was better than what she expected, the explanation that Mitchell gave- or perhaps 'better' wasn't the right for it, as surely it was painful for him, debilitating for him. But what it did leave was a ground for them to talk, to consider one another, whether or not it was in a romantic sense notwithstanding. There was a part of her still tempted to bolt, but the feeling subsided as she peered over the bed on which Mitchell sat, wavering for a while before she, too, sat back down to Mitchell's left. Closer to the door, close enough to him that she could feasibly offer an arm and a hand if he wanted it, although she made no move to close that distance, not after words like that.

The breath that she took was slow, shuddering rather than cleansing, as she tried to pull all of her thoughts to a screeching halt just so that she could examine what was already there. He took the kiss as a sign of wanting something serious, Sookie noted, that much was good. But to be betrayed thoroughly by someone one loved, that Sookie couldn't even begin to fathom, although her heart ached in sympathy. How would she feel if Bill did anything to stab her- not that he could, he wouldn't, he wasn't like that. People could be fooled, however, even Sookie herself by men like Rene, and she raised a hand that hovered by his arm, although it didn't close the distance the rest of the way.

"Well, I'd never. Stab you like that. And- and I'm not sayin' that because I'm tryin' to push you into anything, I'm just lettin' you know that no matter what, I don't pretend to care about people. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to; I'm lousy at lyin' like that," Sookie replied quietly, shoulders still nervously raised, neck still tense with apprehension, with the ever-present fear of loss that permeated the air on an island as inexplicable and mysterious as Tabula Rasa. "There doesn't need to be anything. I mean, I like you, and a lot, just so you know, but I can't pretend that I'm sure of anythin' either." She took a deep breath, speaking on the exhale.

"You should talk about it, though. Maybe you have, to- to George or Annie, and I'm not sayin' that you've gotta tell me everything. But I sure as heck haven't been able to keep all my burdens on my own shoulders, not stuff like that, it's... too much. And I don't wanna think that you're always hurtin' under that smile."

[chasinghumanity]

She didn't run away, which was a small but definite comfort. Too many times Mitchell had watched people run from him, because of what he was, some rightfully so and some for fear and confusion. Anyone who stuck around automatically earned some points in his book, not that Sookie needed anything. But it reassured him that he hadn't fucked up horribly, that she wasn't offended or angry or anything else unexpected that he couldn't deal with. She didn't touch him though. That he noticed and had to wonder why.

"I know you wouldn't," he said, feeling no need to speak so strongly any more if she were sitting right next to him. His gaze hung, somewhat unfocused, somewhere around her knee, at the lines of their bodies not touching and the mattress beneath. "That's part of why I feel alright telling you as much. But I can't stop wondering sometimes where I got it wrong, how I didn't see. And I haven't told George or Annie," he admitted, his brows dropping into a frown.

"George is.. from too far back. It would take too much explaining, make it a thing instead of something I want to put behind me." And Mitchell remembered arriving, covered in blood, blood that definitely wasn't his, and George not asking, just accepting. Their friendship was strong enough to suffer nearly anything, but there were some things they just didn't test.

"And Annie's..." Well, the less said about that time, especially to Annie, the better. Every once in a while, he had nightmares about the pain, the searing, ripping pain and cold emptiness in his chest, the feeling like he couldn't breath, and then the thoughts of what he would have done afterward.

No, the less said on that, the better.

"I can't really talk to her about this one," he said.

The faster they moved from that, the better. "An' I'm not always hurtin'," Mitchell assured her, managing a slight smile, just a quirk of his mouth, but it was a smile that reached his eyes, even if only just. "I've got plenty to be happy 'bout. And she's not gonna stop me from feeling that way. It's just... I thought she'd be the one, you know? After Josie, some to.. change for, to build my life around. And it all," he shook his head, "just went to shit."