A change is evident in one so belligerent.

[flint_ferocia]

Date: Thursday, Sept. 7th
Time: 5pm-ish
Place: The Leaky Cauldron
Characters Involved: Lavender Brown, Marcus Flint
Rating: Ok so R, for implied actions and obvious language.

Comments

[mslavenderbrown]

Another day at Ollivanders. Another day when Lavender was sure that she was going to fail at this. Somehow she knew the touch of the woods easily. This one was pine, and this was rose, and this was oak. She could close her eyes and tell the wood of most wands now, no matter how sanded the wood was. Yet when she opened her eyes she felt everything she had been learning disappear in a little puff of anxiety. Ollivander had gotten annoyed at her and let her go a day early. Probably he was regretting giving her the job. Lavender was regretting taking it. But she didn't want to fail. She wanted to be good at something. What on earth was she good at?

She walked to the Leaky Cauldron with a sigh. Maybe she'd just have an early dinner and go read up on dragon heartstrings or something. Or journal. Should she go ahead and send a note to Marcus?

She could suddenly remember the feeling of the tattoo gun on her left thigh, and a hand slipped down to touch where it had left it's mark. She had been so giddy about it after leaving the shop, imagining a look of happy surprise on Marcus' face. But now, in the day, after all the daydreams and then Ollivander's glares, she realized that Marcus probably wasn't going to let out a grin and hug her and tell her he loved her over the thing. Bugger. She wished she could take it off. But, it would be there for a month.... At this rate, however, she was doubting he was going to even get in touch with her again. So she hadn't been a one night stand. Or a two night stand. Three times. He had said third time was the charm but -- was it? She hadn't seen him again. Hexes and jinxes she thought to herself as she pushed open the door, sighing.

She looked around automatically for Seamus. She could use a little flirting pick me up, chased with a beer. She couldn't see Seamus, but she saw a dark head at a table, and her heart started racing. She studied the head from behind, the shoulders, the arms, and the way he moved his arm to pull his frosty glass up. Marcus... She started walking closer, her nervousness overcoming her excitement for a moment. Had he been waiting, for her? His drink was almost gone. She hoped that he hadn't been waiting long. But that didn't matter -- he was here for her.

The tattoo didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, her face breaking out into a pleased smile. "Marcus," she said, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "I didn't know you were coming to see me."

[flint_ferocia]

Immediately Marcus flinched his shoulders up in a tense lift at the hands resting on them. Both of them were sore solely from his bag, which had been glued to him all day. He arched his head around, flicking tired eyes on the girl he knew was there, while sucking in a breath. He wouldn’t announce his soreness like a baby, but his body reacted in obvious ways.

He stared at her smile and wondered why she could be so happy. But only pondered that for a moment before he glanced at his glass. Marcus had forgotten she was staying at the Leaky, but that would not have strayed his tired feet and his exhausted mind. What could she do that was worse than his Father?

“I didn’t.” He said quietly, with a grumble in his throat. “I just got done with work and needed a boost.” He held up his drink to show her what he meant, before stealing a large gulp. That’s when he realized he would have to fetch another soon. One wasn’t at all enough. He adjusted himself in his hard chair, and slowly eased his lounging legs off the chair in front of him. But instead of standing up to prepare to order another, Marcus found himself slouching slowly, until his head met up with the table in front of him, and his glass rested beside it on the table.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?” He asked as his cheek pressed against the wood and his eyes stared at his glass, longing for it to be filled again.

[mslavenderbrown]

She slid her hands off his shoulders as he looked around at her. She wanted to touch his face, but he didn't exactly look open to that sort of touch. Instead, she came to sit at the seat that his legs had been on, considering that an invitation. "Oh," she said, her face showing a bit of her perplexion. "I just though that maybe you --" she stopped, "Never mind," she said, a few of her white front teeth showing as she bit her lip. "It's just, well -- never mind," she said again, forcing the frown off her face and letting another bright smile sparkle out. "You seem a bit beat," she said. She noticed his glass and gestured for Tom to come over and fill him up, and called out her own order for a beer. She was hungry, but didn't really want to eat yet, not when she had Marcus in front of her. She gave Tom a sweet smile. He always treated her well. A smile could go a long way with a man.

Most men. She hoped she could go far enough with Marcus with her smile, but... Hexes and jinxes she thought, keeping her sigh only inward. She wished he at least looked a little happy to see her. "Its.." she said, looking up. "About 5 o clock. I just got off work, too." She tilted her head to the side, letting her earrings dangle about.

With him lying there, staring at her glass, she felt like a big idiot. Here was the boy that had been on her mind constantly for the past week. She'd been driving herself to distraction trying to figure out why he hadn't called her, and then he falls asleep right in front of her. Damn.

There was an awkward silence as Tom brought their drinks, and Lavender broke it by giving him a musical thank you. She lifted her beer to her mouth and took a slow drink.

"How was your week, Marcus?" she asked. He didn't seem like he was in a conversational mood, but she couldn't just leave him and go upstairs, or let things be quiet. She wanted to be around him, and try to read him, see how he felt about her.

The imprint of the tattoo stuck out harder in her brain. He wasn't going to care.

[flint_ferocia]

That was the only thing Marcus would never understand about girls. They mumbled so damn much. He didn’t try to look at Lavender, or make inquiries about things she told him to never mind, but he was, silently, trying to figure out what she wanted to say but didn’t. That was until she mentioned his appearance. Marcus grumbled a sarcastic ‘How nice’ as he moved his head so his face was completely squished by the wood of the table. He even took a second to ponder about how hard he would have to head butt the table to be slick and split it in two. Marcus wanted to cause destruction, but the power behind his determination was gone. Which frustrated him. To be so weak, so obvious, without control to fix the problem was putting him in a negative mood.

Her answer about the time woke him up enough to sit up and lean back into his chair. He lounged his long legs out so that his ankles crossed near her right side, by her legs. That’s when he noticed he had a full glass again, to which he then gave Lavender a curious glance.
“You read my mind,” Marcus said with a smirk, and then lifted up his glass. That was the closest any girl would get in hearing Marcus give out expressed gratitude. He was pleased she had helped him in acquiring another drink, but also happy she knew her place. If she knew to fetch him things without asking, perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all.

Then she wanted to know about his week, and his pleasant emotions drained almost as fast as his ale did, as he drank it down without pause. There wasn’t much left when the glass hit the table, and he lifted a hand to wipe the back of it across his mouth, as he contemplated her conversational tactics. Why was she all curious all of a sudden?

“My week?” He jeered, while arms crossed over his black robes, and his back dug into the back of the chair. “Fucking brilliant… couldn’t have been better.” He didn’t feel like going into the details of his week like it was some interesting fairy tale to be told. In fact, the entire week had been nothing but pain for Marcus, and he wasn’t about to indulge her curiosity with his weakened state. It was just like a girl to want to know things they didn’t need to know. But she was sitting at his table for a reason, helping him with drinks and looking intrigued by his disposition. Either she was entertained by his condition, or too nosy for her own good. Marcus decided she deserved the same treatment.

“Do I look like I’ve had a great week?” He quickly added, as his face molded into a serious stare. “I’m not all smiles and quirky energy like you are. You must not work so hard to be this way when you get off.”

[mslavenderbrown]

Lavender watched him as she sipped her beer, biting the edge of her lip from time to time when he grumbled and stared at the table. And then he raised his head and finally set back, she had been more than a bit put off by his expression, until he saw the glass.

Thank gods Tom's fast, she thought, beaming at Marcus. She'd read his mind. She felt her heart skip a beat as he raised his glass, hoping that he would continue have a good attitude, and start to cheer up.

She watched him stare at her, and felt her throat go dry. The way he leaned back in his chair, and his tone of voice did nothing to alleviate the stress Lavender felt around him. Their relationship was so bizarre. Lavender had no idea what to expect when she saw him. She had seen him three times -- this was the fourth -- and each time it had been all about sex. There was so much about him she didn't know -- she didn't even know how old he was, when he had been at Hogwarts, about his family -- except that he had a dad -- or anything else. She knew that he didn't know any of those things about herself. There were other things she wanted him to know. For him to know all about her. For him to want to know all about her. He knew only the physical -- he could probably easily imagine what she looked like without her light jumper and trousers. He had experienced what parts of her body were most sensitive, and she knew how to touch him and accommodate his body and -- she hoped -- thrill him. But, when would she know more about him? He wasn't exactly in an open attitude.

"Sorry your week was so awful," she said, following it with a sip of beer. He was drinking pretty quickly. She used her left foot to help ease the slip on heel she was wearing, the shoe making almost no noise as it hit the floor of the room. She flexed her toes and wiggled them to make sure they could move easily. Her leg moved, and she could feel that she was close, but she couldn't quite get the gets to touch him. She leaned forward, propping her head up with her elbow and giving him a placid smile. "You know," she continued. "I don't even know what you do." She edged her foot a bit closer, and ran her toes along what felt like his ankle. Everyone cheered up with footsies, now, didn't they?

"Do you -- do you want more, Marcus?" she said, trying to speak lightly. She wished that she wasn't having to try so hard to pretend anymore. It would have been so much nicer if he had been as glad to see her as she had been to see him. "I can just get Tom to come over," she said, craning her neck to look around.

When he said that about her week, her smile faltered for half a second, but she got it back up. Her eyes weren't exactly shinning anymore, however. She tilted her head to the other side, and then looked up at the ceiling. "You don't even know what I do, do you?" She said. Of course not. If she didn't know, why should he. We ought to know these sort of things.. she thought, feeling frustrated. "We probably do different types of work," she said, trying to keep her smile up. "I work at Ollivander's. I mind the counter and am studying wandmaking." Kind of. Hardly. Sort of. Not really much -- but, she was getting to learn the woods now, right?

[flint_ferocia]

He slouched down into his seat more when she apologized for his week, as if she had anything to do with it. If anything, Lavender was the only good thing going for Marcus, and he couldn’t even acknowledge it. And why should he? She was just one girl. But Marcus could not deny his memories, the ones pricked in his mind every time he looked at her face. Even if it had been quite awhile since the first time he invaded her innocent body, the memories of that night danced back at him when she was around, like a coddled childhood friend. Perhaps that is why he tolerated her, to an extent. At this particular time, anyone else who would have approached him, Marcus would have told him or her to fuck off.

Then she roused sensation with a toe at his ankle, and his legs tensed up in alarm. Not a thought-out response, but an instinctual one. The last time he was touched, it had hurt. But when he finally sensed what it was, he stared into Lavender’s eyes suspiciously, trying to calculate her thoughts. She distracted him with her question about his drink, and he could find no error. Marcus wasn’t sure he liked the loop-de-loop of emotions he kept getting from this girl, so that definitely called for more alcohol.

“Yeah.” He answered slowly, as his dark eyes moved to his glass. “I should have gone and bought a pitcher, but whatever. I’ve got time.” His arm unfolded and his fingers touched his glass, before pushing it toward Lavender slowly as he studied her.

“Ollivanders? You work with that old fuck? Hah.” He replied in vexation. “Hell that isn’t work. For him, I’m sure all you have to do is sit there and look pretty.”

Marcus shook his head and pressed back into his chair.
“I work for my Father, but not because I look pretty.” He mumbled with a sigh. One deep and helpful to keep his anger in check.

“I am a man,” he said after a pause. “That means I don’t get sissy jobs at counters. I bet I’ve been on my feet more today, than you’ve been in a week.” Which was not even close to a lie. “Sounds sooo exciting, doesn’t it? Well it isn’t. It sucks, like most jobs do, only my boss lives with me.”
And because of his own words, Marcus readjusted himself in his seat, and went for his bag on the floor, to find his box of cigarettes. Oh how he wished he could find something other than tobacco and alcohol to make him forget what a fucked up life he had.

[mslavenderbrown]

She could feel his body tense as she brushed her toes slowly against him, and let them slide up a bit along his calf. She had never had anyone tense up in a negative way before, so she didn't even consider that that could be the reason. She let the curve of her foot rest against his leg for a few seconds before moving it back up a little, feeling the fabric of the hem of his trousers.

He looked into her eyes suspiciously, but she avoided his eye contact with a coy smile, as though she had no idea why he would be looking at her. She picked up his glass and waved for Tom. "Oh, Tom!" she called. "Can we get a pitch of ale over here, please?" she said, giving him a sweet smile.

When she looked back he was studying her, which wasn't altogether unpleasant. Maybe he did want to know more about her. She moved his glass in her hands, letting the few last drips of golden brown liquid swirl around the bottom of the cup. She rolled it in her hands, the ale going around and around in a thin, snakey circle.

She looked up at him when he made comments about her just sitting around and looking pretty. Lavender had wondered, more than just a few times, why he had hired her after all. Maybe he had just been a lonely man who had been more than a little happy to run into a charming English witch in the middle of France, and want to ensure that he'd not be alone when he went back to England. He hadn't tried anything, however, and seemed more then a little surely with her. Perhaps she really had been hired just because she was good at tilting her head and giggling, but -- he hadn't just said she'd watch the counter. He had said she'd study wandmaking. And of course she'd been here for over a month with hardly any knowledge about what was what. He was letting her learn woods, but just the types. Nothing about the magic. Nothing about what would make a good wand. He still wouldn't let her touch a wand unless it was safely wrapped in a box, or was her own.

"I don't just sit there and look pretty," she said, her mouth curling into half a frown. "I.. study wandmaking. And I clean." She took the ale from Tom as he brought it. "Thanks so much, Tom," she said, flashing her pearly whites at him. Tom certainly knew how to take a smile.

Marcus was being about as surly as Ollivander, moping back. She slid her foot up higher under his trousers. "That does suck," she admitted. She loved her dad, but she didn't want to be around him all the time. She had had to sneak out quite a bit back at Paris, but he had been too distracted by his mourning to notice. "Do you have to work for him for long?" So what if her job was 'sissy' -- it was still annoying and time consuming. Every job was a job.

She poured his ale, taking a bit of a sip out of his cup before handing it over to him. "If you're so tired, you want to relax upstairs, in my room?" She took a sip of her own beer. "You'd have to get back on your feet for a few moments, but you look like you could handle it." She gave him eye contact again, winking at him. "Oooh, and I have something to show you."

[flint_ferocia]

Marcus watched her as he felt her foot stroke him in exploration. A part of him wanted to kick away his legs and move to another table, but another part was interested in a touch- higher up, for exploration to venture. Women were arousing creatures by nature, made solely for the pleasing of men. This is why he just stared at Lavender and allowed her touch. She was doing what women do, and not altogether wrong. Her execution was lacking, however, but Marcus couldn’t deny her efforts. She even took initiative and sent out the order for a pitcher. She was like a student, eager to learn and listen. Marcus was attracted to her fresh mold, waiting for him to shape it.

“Oh, well that makes more sense.” Marcus replied with a snicker. “The old bastard has plans to make you his personal assistant- or in better terms, his maid.” And if anyone knew what it was like to be a personal assistant, it was Marcus.

Then he arched back his head, as his hands ran behind to support it. “I bet you haven’t done anything important, from the sounds of it. Nothing highly trustworthy. And I am sure you won’t.”

When the ale arrived, Marcus took his eyes off of Lavender, to stare upward at the ceiling. It was done purely out of spite, to see if Lavender had acted out just to receive some ounce of praise for the ale. But her foot moving high on his leg drew him back to look at her face.

“As long as it takes.” Marcus replied with a wrinkle on his brow and his eyebrows crunched. “Until I can find the time to get another. When the fuck ever that’ll be.”

He leaned forward and took his glass, with a shift of expressions. He had been happy to see her serve him, that had been a nice observation, but she indulged before she gave, and that made a shimmer of a smile flatten.

“In your room?” Marcus asked confusedly.
“I can fucking handle anything.” He then snapped, before tilting back his glass and chugging down the ale fiercely. How dare she question his strength and endurance. Marcus was sure he endured more than she could ever imagine. When his glass was empty, he dropped it down onto the table carelessly, and then shoved a hand into his trouser pocket to pull out some coins. Not caring if it was enough, he dropped one galleon and four knuts on the table, and then stood up aggressively.

“Let’s go.” He said in a faint demand. His arms were already reaching down to reclaim his bag, with or without her acknowledgement. Whatever she had to show him better be worth the effort, he thought. But in any case, he would not say not to a comfortable bed, and hopefully a naked woman.

[mslavenderbrown]

She felt her spirits drop as Marcus mocked her and what she did. Lavender bit the corner of her lip and looked out of the sides of her eyes, wondering idly if Seamus was around, and what he would think. He wouldn't say such mean things to her.
She looked at the coins on the table, wondering if it was enough, and opened her clutch. Tom was nice to her, as were all the other staff, and she didn't want to get on their bad side because of Marcus. And she had ordered the other drinks for him. So did that mean she had to pay?

Lavender had never paid for any man's drinks before. They had always paid for her. But she'd also not been called a 'maid' by someone who was about to go into her room. She set down a few more coins. She didn't have a lot of money, and had spent quite a few galleons the day before, but knew that if she put down too much Tom would make sure it got back to her, or give her a positive on her tab. That's what smiles could get for Lavender.

"I'm not a maid, Marcus," she said airily as she checked to make sure she hadn't left anything. "I've only been working here a month. It's not as though I've had time to discover the most powerful new wand core." Her words were firm, but airy, as though tinted over with charm, though he hadn't often been one to go for the charming aspect of things. She considered saying something biting about his inability to find another job --she could tell it'd be a good lash-- but her fear of him didn't even let the words come out. She closed her clutch and reached over and took the pitcher of ale. There was plenty left, and if he didn't want it, she'd drink it. As she took it she realized that she sort of was being his maid. Serving him. It hit her with a bit of an icy cold feeling in her stomach. She hadn't been doing it on purpose. She'd been trying to please him, sure, but... She closed her mouth, lips tight together as she started leading the way to her room.

She had just begun feeling comfortable around him a few minutes ago. Lavender had thought she was making headway with the footsies, beginning to have a slight level of power over him, but then it all snapped away like a broken wand. Nothing to do but be cautious and not try anything fancy. With deep breaths she tried to rid her mind of his harsh words and try to focus on those glimmers of smiles that had popped up once or twice. What was it that she had been doing to get them? How could she get them again? She walked into her room and set down the pitcher of ale on her desk. Her room was much tidier this time, and she only had to shove a few things under her bed with her foot. She took two glasses and poured one, considering taking it and letting him do the rest, but she caved. She wanted to see his smile again, and she had a feeling that this was one of the best ways to do it.

Lavender offered Marcus a glass as he came in with his bag. She stood with her back against the desk, letting him plop himself on the desk or on the other chair that was in the room. Not much in the way of furnishings, but she supposed most people didn't stay at the Leaky for longer than a week or so. She really did have to find a new place to stay at. Taking a sip of the ale herself, she ran another hand through her hair, watching him. Should she just show the tattoo, or try another tactic? Maybe snogging first? They'd never really snogged -- things had always moved at Marcus' pace -- and that was one thing Lavender knew she was skilled at. The whole stripping thing the last time they had met had been a bit of a disaster at the end since she had never done it and had been so nervous near the end that he had finally just done it himself. Again, everything was at Marcus' pace.

"Take a load off," she said, her voice back to it's usual musical, flirtatious ring.

[flint_ferocia]

He followed her like a menacing shadow, a cautious stride, leaving enough room for three other people to walk between them if there had been three others in their party. It wasn’t that that he didn’t want to go with Lavender to her room, it was just the way he went. If Marcus was too close, he’d feel a small tint of control levied over to her, as she ‘lead’ them along, and he just didn’t feel like being a sheep. No, Marcus was a predator, and did not follow, but track, until the door he knew of was in view, and opened, waiting for him to enter.

As he did, Marcus noticed Lavender pouring drinks, and so got himself situated to sit on her bed, while dropping his bag to the floor without a care. He couldn’t help but to snicker at her clean room, even when she had audibly denounced the title of maid. Marcus took the offered mug, with a small grin, and then reclined back on her bed gently, to get comfortable.

“A day… a month- no difference in time would change the fact that you work for that old cod.” Marcus said to break the silence forming, after Lavender told him to take a load off. And he was, a load off his mind. His faint, lacklustre smile stayed on his lips as he stared at her. Then he took a long gulp off his ale, wiped his face, and then placed the mug on a small table close by. With his hand free, Marcus laid back to rest on his elbows.

“So?” He asked as he went back to staring at her flawless face, while imagining how she would look naked as she stood there. “What is it that you wanted to show me?” He actually chuckled after he asked, having found his question sounding mystified and curious. Which he was neither, at least not a lot. Then the bed lured Marcus to wait no longer, and he slid all the way back to ease his aching back. The comfortable bed had been the only thing he had rested on all day, and it felt great.

[mslavenderbrown]

Lavender ignored his comments about Ollivander. It seemed to her that he just wanted to say something to annoy her, but she decided to forget it, and took a sip.

She could feel his eyes over her, and it made her a little anxious. It was so much easier to imagine showing him that tattoo. She could control his reaction in her daydreams. But now he was staring at her as though calculating her, measuring her, and she felt tingles of nervousness along her neck. She took another sip of her ale and moved forward, climbing onto her bed and sitting on her knees, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt.

She looked up at him though her lids were halfway down, and a blush was creeping up into her cheeks. Ethan had said it was an intimate spot, and she had known that when she had decided where to get it. Shouldn't she feel more at ease around Marcus, when she had slept with him three times? She started to undo the top button of her trousers, her blush growing.

"Hexes and jinxes," she murmured quietly, biting her lip and looking up at him. "Well, you see.. I..." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to the ceiling, undoing the rest of her zipper and pulling her trousers away at the left side so that the smokey tattoo of his name could be seen right under the line of her panties on her thigh. She took in a long breath before looking down to see his reaction. "It's not permanent--" she said quickly, afraid he might be annoyed. "I just thought..." She was blushing furiously. What if he was angry about it?

[flint_ferocia]

When Lavender advanced and climbed on the bed, Marcus shifted over to give her room and leeway to do whatever it was that she was to do. He watched, eyes never faltering from her figure, and when her hands went to her trousers, he found himself smiling in a knowing way. So this was the game she was playing, he thought arrogantly. She just wants some good Marcus grinding like any whore would.

Marcus sat up to watch her present herself, but something was off. Lavender was highly nervous about something, he could see it in her face. He was perplexed at her shy way about undressing, wondering what she ever had to be shy about. They were no strangers to each other’s bodies, so he saw this new expression a bit misplaced. Yet before he could do or say anything about it, his eyes caught sight of the reason for all this nervousness. The woman had his name on the skin of her thigh.

His eyebrows lifted up, again he was perplexed, confused about the reason for such a thing. It moved, kept his eyes in a trance over the dark letters. Something like this would have been the last thing he would have expected, and was overcome by the shock of it.

Marcus sat up, forgoing his reclined state as a hand reached up and went to grab at one of her hips. Not a rough grab, or demanding, but assertive nonetheless.

“What is this?” He asked, even though it was obvious. Marcus registered her words about nonpermanent decoration, but he was still caught up on the ‘why’ to not even worry about the idea of how long. His free hand ran up to touch it curiously.

“When did you get this, anyhow?” He asked, more serious than the last, as his dark questionable gaze moved away momentarily to stare in her eyes. Marcus wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, simply because he hadn’t seen such body decoration before. And especially not one that was personalized for him. “Did it hurt?” Came next, without so much as a thought about why he asked.

It was a bit discouraging to see the mark and not the nakedness of her body. But he could wait. For the time being.

[mslavenderbrown]

His reaction didn't seem angry, at least, so Lavender relaxed a little as he put his hand on her hip, scooting a little bit closer. Her blush was still strong, and she let out a nervous giggle, and put a hand into her short hair, biting her lip. She looked down at the tattoo. It billowed on and off of her skin in a cloud of black smoke, the word "Marcus" forming and disappearing every few seconds.

She let out a breath as he ran his hand along it, her heart beating furiously. "It's a tattoo, silly," she said, giggling again. "I got it yesterday," she said, rolling her eyes away from his gaze for a few seconds to look down at the tattoo. She looked back up into his eyes and reached out one hand to tease the edge of his shirt. "It didn't hurt too much," she said. Would she really admit it, anyways, if it had? She didn't want him thinking she was a weakling. "Not as bad as I thought it would be. The tattoo artist said that this is a painful place to get it. Fleshy," she added, before she blushed again. She tilted her head to the side, forcing herself to look him in the eyes as she asked, cautiously, “Do you like it?”

The giggle came out again, and she bit her lip to keep more from getting out. She'd been unable to giggle for most of the time she'd been around Marcus out of fear and discomfort. Thinking about it, she could recall herself breaking into little giggles when she had tried stripping for him, though he had ended that little experiment quite quickly after she had gotten that far gone into nervousness. It was odd. When she was clothed, or naked, she felt most comfortable around Marcus. It was when things started slipping away, when only parts of her could be looked at as individual and studied that she felt exposed. Like now. She giggled at these times because it was as though a part of her wanted to know that she could - that she was still Lavender, and to pretend that she didn’t have anything to care about. She closed her eyes for a second, twisting his shirt around two of her fingers, trying to regain control of herself, trying to mentally clothe her heart.

Letting go of his shirt she opened her eyes and leaned over him, reaching for her nightstand. She stretched her arm out as far as it could go, hardly able to grab the handle of the drawer, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. “Want one?” she asked, offering it.

[flint_ferocia]

His eyes moved down to stare at her tattoo again, just as Lavender told him what it was. Which he knew already, and didn’t appreciate being called silly- and he told her as much with a sour glance up into her eyes.

“So, you can take a little bit of pain, can you?” He asked with a slow grin forming over his features. Marcus had been rough with her before, but never was quite sure how she thought of his handling, until now. The vixen liked a little bit of torture for pleasure, it seemed to Marcus. Now over the initial shock of the tattoo, he understood she had done it for him. Even before she asked if he liked it.

“I might have liked it more if I could have seen you get it.” He squeezed at her hip in a needy way, pulling on her with sexual incentives. “Watched you squirm under the act of such a thing.” His grin grew impishly, as he squeezed at her body, while staring up at her blushing face. Then he reluctantly let her go and reclined back once more. That’s when he noticed she was touching his shirt, to which instigated more hunger for intimacy. Her actions were telling him it wouldn’t be long before he would mount her. Already he was getting anxious, even with sore muscles.

When she leaned over him, he couldn’t help but to touch her. His hands moved up, making him rest completely on the bed, while sliding fingers over her form with expressed need. Then his eyes caught sight of the pack, and he paused, wondering what all of this meant. The pause was from his mind jarring into all of the things she had done. The drinks, the tattoo, the offer to rest on her bed, the cigarettes. Nothing was as good as being the receptor for many gifts. It was intoxicating to be pampered in such a way.

“Later.” He drawled lazily as he wrapped his big arms around her body, while sitting up. “I want something more satisfying than that.” He tried to pull Lavender close and lace bites over her exposed neckline. Marcus ignored the discomfort of his body, but could not deny that he wanted nothing more than to get rid of all the layers of clothes between them. He had wanted to when she had stared to undress, and more so now than ever before.

[mslavenderbrown]

The sour glance made her uncomfortable. Not exactly one to tease, then, is he? she thought, forcing her grin to stay up, and letting out another giggle of nervousness. But then he started to grin at her, and she found her smile easily to keep plastered to her face. He was pleased. She was like a little puppy, wanting to receive a pat on the head for bringing the paper or slippers over to her owner.

“I can take some pain,” she said slowly, thinking. She recalled his roughness easily, the pulling and gripping in his iron hands. She liked that he was grinning, and ran a hand along his hand that held her hip. “Though I don’t mind gentleness,” she hinted cautiously. She didn’t want the grin to leave. It was giving her too much hope.

She fiddled with the package of cigarettes before tossing it over on the nightstand. She hadn’t been expecting him to want sex, being so tired as he was. Lavender wasn’t even think she wanted it. Even with the pain, she felt complete for a few moments when she and Marcus had sex, but afterwards she always felt empty as soon as he left. He would walk out the door and there would be these huge incomprehensible holes in her heart, in the air, as she wondered when she would see him again.

“Maybe you can come next time,” she said as she felt his arms around her, squeezing her hip and running his hands along her body. She knew exactly what he was going for, but she was afraid he’d take what he wanted and leave her in less than a quarter of an hour. She didn’t want him to go, even when he was saying such mean things to him. “This will last a month,” she said, catching a few of his fingers in her hand and moving them to brush against the tattoo. She gave him one of her best smiles, and then bit her lip coyly. “You should come with me, next time, Marcus,” she said. If he said he would, then Lavender would have hope that she’d be seeing him in a month. That he’d still want his name on her in a month.

She had planned a lot for this meeting, mentally begging an unknowing Marcus to simply take the initiative and come. The cigarettes had been bought for him, the tattoo the night before, and the clean room so that she wouldn’t be caught off guard again. She’d been checking her journal faithfully each night for his handwriting, sighing each time that it was not there. And of course Marcus had come, so it was almost like she had planned. Except that he hadn’t come for her, he’d come for a drink. But he knows I live here so that must have somehow… entered into his mind… she told herself. He had claimed that he hadn’t come for her, but she was sure he had. He had to of been thinking of her. She couldn’t believe that he could look at her like he was now, and leave without images of her burning through his mind all week. He has just been busy with work, is all she told herself. No time for anything else..

Lavender hoped he understood what all the gifts meant. That she liked him, that she paid attention to him. All that she wanted was the same in return. Of course he would understand that, right? Perhaps he would bring her flowers, and take her out to dinner. Perhaps he would claim her as his girlfriend. That was a title Lavender coveted to have. To know that someone wanted - liked her - her enough to insist that she be on his, and that he be only hers. This was going to inevitably happen with Marcus, right? If they kept seeing each other? She let out a happy sigh, rolling her blue eyes over his body.

[mslavenderbrown]

His arms pulled her down and she didn’t fight it, tilting her head back to open herself to his bites, wiggling herself to where she felt comfortable - enjoying the way he held her tightly. “Ooh,” she said, giggling. “I had expected you to want to take a nap or something,” she said, half lying as her fingers finding his hair. She turned over in his arms, stretching herself up so that her mouth was next to his, kissing the edge of his chin before going in for a kiss. “I’ll satisfy you, Marcus,” she purred as she tried to slip her hands under his body, her legs spread out over him so she was propped up on her knees, giving her more leverage and a bit of control despite his arms. She wasn’t anxious for the sex, just to be close to him, to be able to believe that she made him happy, made him feel complete. She dipped her head to try and kiss him, planning to drive him wild with her expert snogging, if he didn’t try rushing her. She wanted to take this slower, easier. The inevitable nakedness and sex and sweat was bound to happen with her on a bed with Marcus, so why rush it when she enjoyed this part so much more?