RP Logs Thomas/Justine + Mab's gift
Thomas:
It had been a few days since a Faerie Queen had shown up in his shop. The girls had finally stopped trying to pry out of him what exactly had happened back in his office after the strangeness they had witnessed between his "cousin", Maggie, and Mab. He was sure the rumors were flying thick and fast when he wasn't there to hear them. It was a hair salon, after all. He'd be disappointed if there weren't gossip. Not that much had happened anyway and the stories the girls were telling were probably much more entertaining than the truth. Some awkward, stilted conversation, and the Sidhe had given him her card. Okay, that was weird. But on the scale of weirdness Thomas had been exposed to? Not so terribly strange.
Scowling, Thomas realised he'd been running his thumb along the card's edge in his pocket. Quite deliberately, he pulled his hand free and clasped both behind his back. Maybe he should have just gotten rid of the card. He'd seen how much trouble faeries were for Harry, after all. Then again, he also knew the folly in tossing away an apparently-in-good-faith overture made by a powerful possible-ally. It would be idiotic of him to reject her out of hand. Whatever it was she wanted. Even if Maggie was convinced it would come to no good. Just what had happened between them, anyway? There was still plenty he didn't know about his mother but he did know she wouldn't say unless she decided she wanted to. No weaseling things out of her!
He shook his head. There was an angle here he could handle, of that he was sure. At least...once he found it. Until then, he had other things to think about. Like the curious glance he'd caught Lara giving him. She was probably wondering what he'd been up to, lately, so he made sure to make it clear -- in suitably discreet fashion -- that whatever it was, it was no threat to her. Since it was a private matter that had nothing to do with the Raith side of the family. And he really didn't want it to become public knowledge over here that his mother was alive. Lara would be forced to have their father put on some snarling show that really just couldn't end well. And with the Black Court issue already there, they really didn't need the White Court as well.
Lara had seemed mollified though, he hoped. Seeming didn't count for much, around here. Any other thoughts on the matter, though, derailed at the sound of a door quietly opening and Thomas turned to see Justine enter. Just a few more stolen moments in reasonable privacy. His other task in getting there early had been to ensure there was nothing in the room that could spy on them. He wouldn't put it past...anyone in the house, actually.
--
Justine had noticed something tense in his manner (it had to be noticed, didn't it? Couldn't be felt. And maybe more precisely more tense than usually) during his audience with Lara. But then, when was he ever even normally relaxed anymore? Around her?
... and yet the look on his face as she entered sent a shiver through her once again, making her forget about those last two words above completely. He wanted this time with her, and she had no cause for doubting that, not when she could see him (unlike when words, maybe heard from somebody, snaked into her mind and made her think that she was a liability... wanted, maybe, but a burden more than anything else; no. Not when he was here).
Whoever might have thought gray eyes were cold had not seen his look at her right now, the look that spoke even across the room. She couldn't help her own answering smile as she came closer, after making sure the door was shut tightly.
"Your face looks like the sun shining through clouds right now." Well it did - just like most of the time he was first seeing her. The repetition didn't make the sight any less dear - or welcome. Even if it made the previously immediately-following kiss all the more missed. Stop that. "I like that, even though the clouds seem a bit darker than usual, today."
--
Thomas grinned at her, his manner softening in a way that only seemed to happen with her. "You've been reading my old poetry books again," he teased even as he closed the distance between them. Well...closed it as much as was advisable. Just enough he could feel her breath stirring the air around him. Not quite so close to actually touch. He'd learned to be careful by now, even if it could be maddening to be so close and not touch her. Better to have this with her than nothing at all. And he'd come too close to that nothing to risk it again.
"And how have things been at the old homestead? Just as quiet as ever?" Hah. Quiet. Look, Thomas made a funny.
--
Justine's mouth partly opened at the closeness and she places her hands on his chest, over the shirt. So she could feel his heart. He's not too cold, she could feel this much. "Yes, I have. They were better when you were reading them out loud to me." She swallowed. And blinked. No, this was... a bit more than... was it?
"As quiet as usual. I think. Nobody really likes to argue." In public. In private either, if avoidable. Things were settled otherwise. "And as, ah - alive, as usual." Alive. Interesting word choice. She smiled and looked up to meet his eyes.
--
He smiled in return, meeting her gaze, "that's good then, I suppose." And of course, somehow his hands had found their way to her waist, resting lightly over the cloth of her blouse. Two could play the touching-through-fabric game. Even if his fingers were itching to sneak under the hem. Christ, how much did that make him sound like a teenager with his first girlfriend?
"I suppose," he said, backing up verbally though hardly physically, "I'l have to do some more reading for you." Besides, that was an activity they could do in public, if need be. Poor pathetic Thomas and his broken little doe.
--
Justine couldn't... think. Didn't want to think. She wanted his fingers to slide over her skin. With an intensity that hadn't happened for a while. She wet her lips. She wasn't supposed to kiss him. She wasn't supposed to touch him.
Why was that?
Oh. He'd get burned. That made her take a deeper breath and try to focus. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want anyone to hurt him.
"I want to--" kiss you. And more. Wait, something was wrong, wasn't it? Her mind was trying to pin-point why she thought so. She always wanted to be touched by him again. "I'd like that." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. Her cheeks were burning a little.
If she couldn't think, maybe he could. That's how it often worked, wasn't it? He was always steps ahead of her. "Thomas... I think something's..." Wrong? No... it felt right. Normal. It would, after almost five years - but she couldn't reach that conclusion just yet. "... different."
--
The barest trace of a frown flickered over his face. "Different?" He'd been feeling it too. Whatever it was. Something he hadn't felt with her in far too long. She wanted him. Well, she always did, he knew that. But...this was different. He looked down at her, actually looking at her. Seeing what he already should have noticed. Her pupils a little too dilated, the rate of her breathing, the warmth of her skin through her shirt, her cheeks flushing with color.
He was affecting her again. He shouldn't be, but he was. For just a moment, she'd feel the need to be with him surge in intensity, his eyes flashing too-pale before he closes them and slowly, deliberately takes a step away from her even though it looks like he's fighting even to get just that small amount of distance. He's quiet another couple of moments, getting himself back under control and when he does open his eyes again, he looks normal once again. "Empty night," he breathed, watching her, "where did that come from?"
--
Justine breathed in when his eyes became paler and closed her own eyes, trying to focus, so very hard, on not rising up to meet his lips, to taste him as well as smell and feel him--
And then he stepped away and she shuddered as the air slid in, cool where he'd been a moment before. "No..." Her eyes snapped open and her hand reached towards him without thinking, almost blindly, then dropped as she tried, only partly successfully, to regain her breathing.
"Different." Different from the last time they were that close. "I'm..." The couch was on the other side of him. She'd have to pass closer to him to reach it and sit. Yesnoyesnoyesno... "From you." She cleared her throat, but this much she was just about positive of. "It came from you." She could tell, after all. It was not anything like an accusation, of course. Just an answer to his question. She lifted her eyes towards his face again but tried to not meet his eyes. "How, I have no idea." It was still difficult to think, but - nothing special had happened to her.
Had it? She really couldn't recall anything that stood out.
--
A book title flashed in Thomas' mind's eye and he suddenly had a very good idea of what he'd been offered. For what in return? Well...he'd have to find that out. But for now? Well...he had to see just how far this could go.
Still doing his best to reign in the Hunger inside of him, Thomas reaches out and oh so gently touches his fingertips to Justine's cheek, ready to pull away again if necessary.
It isn't necessary and he stares in wonder, not yet quite able to comprehend. He understands but it just doesn't make sense!
--
She sees it on his face, a realization, and opens her mouth to ask, and then his hand is on her face... and his own doesn't twist in pain, and her lips remain parted as that sinks in. "Oh god..." Her fingers covered his for a bit, trying that it was still not hurting when she touched him, and then she crossed that step he'd earned between them and wrapped herself around him as before. Not caring whether her skin met clothes or skin. Yours... yours... mine.
He knew something before he touched her. Just in this moment of time that was enough for her, the who and the how of the possibility not mattering anywhere near as much as fact of it.
--
Thomas let her embrace him, wrapping his own arms around her tightly and burying his face in her hair. Some sort of tension in him vanished, the relief of being released from having to hold himself back was a palpable sensation. It just felt too damn good to be holding her like this. Without worry.
He'd worry later. For now he let go, pushing away concerns about the implications of this for them and what Mab could want and just reveled in the moment. He felt whole. "Justine," he murmured and there was a world of meaning in that one word.
--
It would be absolutely impossible right now to untangle what she was feeling. Usually, it was almost simple, or used to be - once upon a time - to separate her emotion from the attraction enhanced by his being who (or what, according to some) he was. But it had been so long that she'd felt that last one, and the first one had kept on growing stronger, and they were all twisted together harder by the sheer strength of longing brought by impossibility that she couldn't separate them.
Nor did she want to.
It had been so natural, once, to embrace so. To feel his arms around her just so, to run her fingers along the back of his hand like that. It felt better than natural, now. Blissful, rather. Each moment stetched into a small eternity.
He said her name, and for a moment there was nothing more important than that.
Then her face finally beamed into a smile, the one that was pure Justine happiness and he probably knew so well. "I'm here. Right here, Thomas." Where she belonged.
--
He had a smile to match hers, though she only saw it for a moment before he was kissing her with all the pent up longing and passion of a man kept at from an integral part of himself for much too long. To lose having this -- having her -- again would be pure torture for him.
But that's another thing he's quite steadfastly not thinking about at the moment. Not when his entire being is focused on the woman in his arms.
--
Justine melted against him, losing herself into the kiss with an abandom that had nothing at all to do with his mojo, it just couldn't, and was all coming from deeper within. Then they had to break for breath, and she half-groaned, half whimpered at the separation, miniscule as it was. Her eyes focused on his face from so much closer than was safe... had been safe, and her fingers traced, caressed his features.
"This... I never even imagined anything could feel like this. So good as feeling you again." They'd done passion and desire, pure and unapologetic. They'd done poetry, epic or just the kind involving yearning without touch. But this... the whole went way beyond the sum of the parts.
And then she was kissing him again. After all, they had no reason not to.
--
He was all for kissing again. And again. And once or twice more for good measure. He would, in fact, be quite content to stay here with Justine like this for the rest of time the evening, if he had his way. But things like this don't just "happen" and he'd be a fool to just let it go.
But that could wait a little longer. Another kiss or two, at least.
"I suppose now would be a bad time to suggest absence made the heart grow fonder?" He grinned at her, full of mirth and joy. "But I know what you mean. This seemed...impossible." Unless he made a proverbial deal with the devil. But he wouldn't tell Justine that.
Then again, he wasn't sure Mab was any better than a demon. Well, she was prettier, at least.
--
Laughter bubbled up out of Justine, at the absurdity of that. No, not the absurdity, the clear, aching truth in it - in a way. Or maybe echoing his mirth. "Or the mind more willing." She didn't think either of their hearts could grow fonder. "Or just more appreciative." And then the word 'impossible' made her furrow her eyebrows a bit, through not enough to look away from his face or stop her fingers from caressing the side of his neck.
"I thought I might save some time by skipping past the 'I can't believe this is happening' part." Time - and she hadn't thought about it being a temporary thing quite yet; it was just time that had to be made up for - that could be much better employed, demonstrably, by taking it to kiss him some more. She did know they couldn't spend too much more time like this right now, so both fingers and lips tried to drink their full. Only interrupted by the eyes, which in turn thirsted for seeing him this happy.
If asked, she'd say she'd give anything to return that look onto his face, probably. But right now, she concentrated on keeping it there.
Even if now he'd mentioned the word, she knew it was so. And yet it was happening.
Yes, like this was the first impossible thing she'd run across in her life. Really. Few of them had this level of an up, though.
Later, she'd probably wonder what the downs would be. But not now. No, nothing to take any of the sweetness from the moment.
--
Somehow, they'd ended up actually sitting down, entwined together. Neither looked too inclined to move at any point in the near future and both likely looked far more happy than they had in... years.
This called for, as Justine thought of it, making up for lost time. Thomas certainly didn't mind in the least being that he didn't care to let go of her. Ever. So they stayed there, together, talking and making up for all that time, as it were, as long as they could conceivably get away with before they had to start worrying about others coming to see what the hell they were getting up to. There's already been whispered gossip about them and the things Thomas must be getting up to with her behind closed doors. Things much more depraved than he'd ever done with Justine, but few in the White Court or of its hangers-on could likely conceive of how their relationship truly worked after all.
Eventually, though, they had to begin wrapping things up. Which is how Thomas ended up sighing reluctantly at a lull in their far too-sweet-to-be-printed conversation and glancing toward the door. "Lara's probably wondering what's keeping you."
--
Justine had managed to forget the world outside the door, actually. Or at least it relevancy, or lack of it, for the time being. All she wanted, all she needed? Was right here.
What was outside? Secrets and lies. Including her own. And also? Reality. A certain sort of it.
Not the one she preferred, but reality that beckoned to both of them nonetheless.
"I couldn't really presume to know what kind of things My Lady Lara would be thinking, but I shouldn't keep her waiting. I guess." She nodded, then held his face for another kiss, tender even with the still-present hunger, and started disentangling herself. Touching him at every chance - the back of her hand along the inside of his arm, her cheek against his neck. This room had seen them untouchable enough times. Now it was different.
"We'd better not let this be known... had we?" It was almost a rhetorical question, really. Thomas was playing by Lara's rules, and yet he wasn't. Because Lara's hold was firm - but not absolute. And this could make it absolute. No. Not through me...
Eventually, she could stand up and with an amused smile gave him a hand up. Not because he needed anything like it. But so that their fingers would twine for a moment.
Knowing it was possible and not doing it was going to be hard.
But not too hard a price for the freedom of movement, as long as they both knew there was something for the stolen moment here. Or wherever.
--
Thomas shook his head in agreement, "no, we'd better not." One more secret to keep. But secrets he was used to.
Unless....Thomas paled a little at the next thought he'd had. "If this means you're also not protected from the others..." It made a certain sort of sense. He looked determinedly into her eyes, "you'll have to be even more careful than you have been." It was almost enough to make him pull her out of there right then and there. But he knew better.
He straightened his shirt a little and ran his fingers through her hair as if to smooth it but more just for the excuse to touch her again. "We'll make this work." However they could.
--
Her eyes widened at that thought how bad THAT could get. Nobody had even tried to feed on her for a while - as far as she could tell, at least. Certainly nobody was touching her anymore, information had spread rather quickly... Lara had 'forgotten' warning a few of the Court about it, but the word of the burns had spread quickly enough. And if somebody had tried to, ah, get her attention from a distance, she couldn't tell.
After having lived in this world of tug-and-pull for so long, it had been a strange feeling of being disconnected at the beginning. Oh, she felt infinitely worse for being disconnected from Thomas, but the whole ambience's change was also felt. But if...
"I'll be very careful." The 'if I have a chance to resist' went without saying. "I'll call you if anything happens. Then it would make sense I come away." It would make sense. And she wouldn't be just there to torture him with her presence. She'd be there as before!
While staying here at the Court would be more risky than the information she'd managed to collect, so far. If somebody realized she was food again, she might not even get to see what kind of plotting might Lara turn that into. "Do you think it's something that was done to me then? I don't remember anything that could have been it." If it was him protected from her protection, that would be fine. If it was her protection stripped away - she didn't want to think how crazy that could drive him.
... and then his touch and reassurance made her smile again. As long as he wasn't in direct danger, she could, too, without it being strained or false. And this? Despite the danger, the mere fact that they could. touch. was making her happier than she'd thought possible. Nothing was for really free. And if danger was the price... There was always danger. Now there was a bonus to it.
"Yes, we will." She looked him over (oh he always looked perfect...) in need something needed straightening, then brushed her fingertips along his cheek again and nodded. "I'm ready."
--
Thomas' brow furrowed, "I'm not sure if it was you or me." It could be either. It could be both. And he'd rather have Justine forewarned just in case than caught by surprise. It went without saying that if Justine's protection was gone and anyone besides Thomas took advantage of it, Thomas would quite cheerfully have their heart on a platter. But...no sense in borrowing trouble. Well, no more trouble anyway. He nodded, "call me. I'll take care of you." Something else that didn't really have to be said, but he did anyway. It was important and the words had an echo of i love you in them.
One last time, he kissed her fingertips, then he kissed her with a gentle smile before pulling away so they both could put their masks back on before opening the door. "So am I." He supposed.
--
They had fallen back to the habit of not saying it, both of them. Lest the charm be broken, she supposed. But it was there, without a doubt. And that last kiss... well. If somebody knew how how to make this woman want more, his name was surely Thomas Raith. He sated the thirst and deepened it.
And she loved him.
As soon as the door was open, her eyes were downcast, her face a trifle more slack. She stepped out, careful not to touch him, and made a couple of steps outside, hearing him close the door.
She could still tell where he was. But right now she seemed to miss the warmth of him behind her and she couldn't go on just like that.
Her voice carefully with the odd, almost sing-song cadence that it usually had here, just in case somebody was passing along an adjacent hallway (and she suspected he hated that voice somehow, because it called out she's helpless in a Court of predators) she said. "Thomas - I think I forgot my phone inside." Which was even true. She'd taken it out of a pocket for the sake of convenience when they'd first sat down. She faced him, eyes meeting his briefly as she completed her turn back towards their room.
Of course, she could have come back for the mobile after he'd left. But then they couldn't steal another moment together, could they?
--
Oh, he did hate that voice. It didn't help the reaction he himself felt when he heard her sounding like a broken winged bird. But he was more than capable, by now, of ignoring the instinctual reaction of the predator within and merely nodded, with a slight, indulgent smile on his lips. "Let's go back and find it then," he said, pitching his voice to sound like someone who walked on eggshells around the girl, afraid she'd break even further. Just as would be expected of him.
So saying, he pushed the door back open behind them and gestured for her to go first. Once she was back within the room, he slipped in behind her, closing the door yet again. He believed her when she said she'd forgotten her phone but he also knew she didn't need him to help her get it. Just one more chance to be together before they had to be apart. And he was already reaching to pull her back close to him though some instinct was screaming at him it was a bad idea in the instant before his hand closed around her bare wrist. Something had changed yet again.
Thomas hissed in pain, jerking his hand away from her, blisters already raising to the surface of his palm. He looked down at his hand dully and ground out, "that answers that question," The question of just how long this was going to last.
Not nearly long enough.
--
Justine froze mid-motion towards him when he jerked away, her eyes flying toward his hand, then growing very very wide. "No no no no..." She took a breath, trying to understand.
"It's... gone? I didn't do anything!" He's in pain. I burned him again. No... NO! No, not like that. Think.
"Ice," she choked. "We can go down to the kitchen for a drink with ice, if you don't want to fiddle with the med kit." She realized her nails were digging into her palms, stopping herself from reaching to help - which would just hurt more. "Or you could demonstrate it as a sign of lack of control." Lara would probably like that, in a way.
Justine hated it right now. But that was of lesser importance. She reached to open the door again. The sooner there was some relief to the burn, the better.
And just for the briefest of instants, she thought that right now, she didn't want to face the room where they'd been given a moment of bliss, and then it was taken from them again. Not yet.
--
Thomas scowled, more at himself than at her. He should have expected something like this. "It wasn't you. It definitely wasn't you, Justine."
He looked up at her and flexed his fingers. "I'll keep it." It would be a good reminder for him as well as a demonstration for the others. Nothing was irreparably damaged, it wouldn't affect the use of his hand. It'd just look bad. A little scar tissue never killed anyone.
But he did let her go to the door, "we can wrap it up, if you want. But it won't take long to heal as much as it's going to anyway." He'd been good, after all, about keeping himself fed. This was a pretty minor injury compared to some of the others he'd gotten in the past.
Let everyone think stupid, pathetic, dilettante Thomas couldn't control himself. That was just fine with him.
--
She was thinking along the lines of immediate relief, because she did know it would heal (no, stop it Justine, this isn't the time for thinking of him laying down and caressing his hair as his body was knitting itself together as he grew colder and colder...). Stopping the pain.
She just nodded. Then her fingers did reach towards him, closing over his sleeve. She'd not cry over the second loss of that. God, she would not. Not where anyone could see.
"Let's go take the fire out of that."
--
He paused and pulled away from her, going to where they'd been sitting and fetching her phone. "Don't want to forget this again," he said with an obviously forced smile as he handed to her in his non-injured hand.
"Now we can go."
It had been a few days since a Faerie Queen had shown up in his shop. The girls had finally stopped trying to pry out of him what exactly had happened back in his office after the strangeness they had witnessed between his "cousin", Maggie, and Mab. He was sure the rumors were flying thick and fast when he wasn't there to hear them. It was a hair salon, after all. He'd be disappointed if there weren't gossip. Not that much had happened anyway and the stories the girls were telling were probably much more entertaining than the truth. Some awkward, stilted conversation, and the Sidhe had given him her card. Okay, that was weird. But on the scale of weirdness Thomas had been exposed to? Not so terribly strange.
Scowling, Thomas realised he'd been running his thumb along the card's edge in his pocket. Quite deliberately, he pulled his hand free and clasped both behind his back. Maybe he should have just gotten rid of the card. He'd seen how much trouble faeries were for Harry, after all. Then again, he also knew the folly in tossing away an apparently-in-good-faith overture made by a powerful possible-ally. It would be idiotic of him to reject her out of hand. Whatever it was she wanted. Even if Maggie was convinced it would come to no good. Just what had happened between them, anyway? There was still plenty he didn't know about his mother but he did know she wouldn't say unless she decided she wanted to. No weaseling things out of her!
He shook his head. There was an angle here he could handle, of that he was sure. At least...once he found it. Until then, he had other things to think about. Like the curious glance he'd caught Lara giving him. She was probably wondering what he'd been up to, lately, so he made sure to make it clear -- in suitably discreet fashion -- that whatever it was, it was no threat to her. Since it was a private matter that had nothing to do with the Raith side of the family. And he really didn't want it to become public knowledge over here that his mother was alive. Lara would be forced to have their father put on some snarling show that really just couldn't end well. And with the Black Court issue already there, they really didn't need the White Court as well.
Lara had seemed mollified though, he hoped. Seeming didn't count for much, around here. Any other thoughts on the matter, though, derailed at the sound of a door quietly opening and Thomas turned to see Justine enter. Just a few more stolen moments in reasonable privacy. His other task in getting there early had been to ensure there was nothing in the room that could spy on them. He wouldn't put it past...anyone in the house, actually.
--
Justine had noticed something tense in his manner (it had to be noticed, didn't it? Couldn't be felt. And maybe more precisely more tense than usually) during his audience with Lara. But then, when was he ever even normally relaxed anymore? Around her?
... and yet the look on his face as she entered sent a shiver through her once again, making her forget about those last two words above completely. He wanted this time with her, and she had no cause for doubting that, not when she could see him (unlike when words, maybe heard from somebody, snaked into her mind and made her think that she was a liability... wanted, maybe, but a burden more than anything else; no. Not when he was here).
Whoever might have thought gray eyes were cold had not seen his look at her right now, the look that spoke even across the room. She couldn't help her own answering smile as she came closer, after making sure the door was shut tightly.
"Your face looks like the sun shining through clouds right now." Well it did - just like most of the time he was first seeing her. The repetition didn't make the sight any less dear - or welcome. Even if it made the previously immediately-following kiss all the more missed. Stop that. "I like that, even though the clouds seem a bit darker than usual, today."
--
Thomas grinned at her, his manner softening in a way that only seemed to happen with her. "You've been reading my old poetry books again," he teased even as he closed the distance between them. Well...closed it as much as was advisable. Just enough he could feel her breath stirring the air around him. Not quite so close to actually touch. He'd learned to be careful by now, even if it could be maddening to be so close and not touch her. Better to have this with her than nothing at all. And he'd come too close to that nothing to risk it again.
"And how have things been at the old homestead? Just as quiet as ever?" Hah. Quiet. Look, Thomas made a funny.
--
Justine's mouth partly opened at the closeness and she places her hands on his chest, over the shirt. So she could feel his heart. He's not too cold, she could feel this much. "Yes, I have. They were better when you were reading them out loud to me." She swallowed. And blinked. No, this was... a bit more than... was it?
"As quiet as usual. I think. Nobody really likes to argue." In public. In private either, if avoidable. Things were settled otherwise. "And as, ah - alive, as usual." Alive. Interesting word choice. She smiled and looked up to meet his eyes.
--
He smiled in return, meeting her gaze, "that's good then, I suppose." And of course, somehow his hands had found their way to her waist, resting lightly over the cloth of her blouse. Two could play the touching-through-fabric game. Even if his fingers were itching to sneak under the hem. Christ, how much did that make him sound like a teenager with his first girlfriend?
"I suppose," he said, backing up verbally though hardly physically, "I'l have to do some more reading for you." Besides, that was an activity they could do in public, if need be. Poor pathetic Thomas and his broken little doe.
--
Justine couldn't... think. Didn't want to think. She wanted his fingers to slide over her skin. With an intensity that hadn't happened for a while. She wet her lips. She wasn't supposed to kiss him. She wasn't supposed to touch him.
Why was that?
Oh. He'd get burned. That made her take a deeper breath and try to focus. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want anyone to hurt him.
"I want to--" kiss you. And more. Wait, something was wrong, wasn't it? Her mind was trying to pin-point why she thought so. She always wanted to be touched by him again. "I'd like that." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. Her cheeks were burning a little.
If she couldn't think, maybe he could. That's how it often worked, wasn't it? He was always steps ahead of her. "Thomas... I think something's..." Wrong? No... it felt right. Normal. It would, after almost five years - but she couldn't reach that conclusion just yet. "... different."
--
The barest trace of a frown flickered over his face. "Different?" He'd been feeling it too. Whatever it was. Something he hadn't felt with her in far too long. She wanted him. Well, she always did, he knew that. But...this was different. He looked down at her, actually looking at her. Seeing what he already should have noticed. Her pupils a little too dilated, the rate of her breathing, the warmth of her skin through her shirt, her cheeks flushing with color.
He was affecting her again. He shouldn't be, but he was. For just a moment, she'd feel the need to be with him surge in intensity, his eyes flashing too-pale before he closes them and slowly, deliberately takes a step away from her even though it looks like he's fighting even to get just that small amount of distance. He's quiet another couple of moments, getting himself back under control and when he does open his eyes again, he looks normal once again. "Empty night," he breathed, watching her, "where did that come from?"
--
Justine breathed in when his eyes became paler and closed her own eyes, trying to focus, so very hard, on not rising up to meet his lips, to taste him as well as smell and feel him--
And then he stepped away and she shuddered as the air slid in, cool where he'd been a moment before. "No..." Her eyes snapped open and her hand reached towards him without thinking, almost blindly, then dropped as she tried, only partly successfully, to regain her breathing.
"Different." Different from the last time they were that close. "I'm..." The couch was on the other side of him. She'd have to pass closer to him to reach it and sit. Yesnoyesnoyesno... "From you." She cleared her throat, but this much she was just about positive of. "It came from you." She could tell, after all. It was not anything like an accusation, of course. Just an answer to his question. She lifted her eyes towards his face again but tried to not meet his eyes. "How, I have no idea." It was still difficult to think, but - nothing special had happened to her.
Had it? She really couldn't recall anything that stood out.
--
A book title flashed in Thomas' mind's eye and he suddenly had a very good idea of what he'd been offered. For what in return? Well...he'd have to find that out. But for now? Well...he had to see just how far this could go.
Still doing his best to reign in the Hunger inside of him, Thomas reaches out and oh so gently touches his fingertips to Justine's cheek, ready to pull away again if necessary.
It isn't necessary and he stares in wonder, not yet quite able to comprehend. He understands but it just doesn't make sense!
--
She sees it on his face, a realization, and opens her mouth to ask, and then his hand is on her face... and his own doesn't twist in pain, and her lips remain parted as that sinks in. "Oh god..." Her fingers covered his for a bit, trying that it was still not hurting when she touched him, and then she crossed that step he'd earned between them and wrapped herself around him as before. Not caring whether her skin met clothes or skin. Yours... yours... mine.
He knew something before he touched her. Just in this moment of time that was enough for her, the who and the how of the possibility not mattering anywhere near as much as fact of it.
--
Thomas let her embrace him, wrapping his own arms around her tightly and burying his face in her hair. Some sort of tension in him vanished, the relief of being released from having to hold himself back was a palpable sensation. It just felt too damn good to be holding her like this. Without worry.
He'd worry later. For now he let go, pushing away concerns about the implications of this for them and what Mab could want and just reveled in the moment. He felt whole. "Justine," he murmured and there was a world of meaning in that one word.
--
It would be absolutely impossible right now to untangle what she was feeling. Usually, it was almost simple, or used to be - once upon a time - to separate her emotion from the attraction enhanced by his being who (or what, according to some) he was. But it had been so long that she'd felt that last one, and the first one had kept on growing stronger, and they were all twisted together harder by the sheer strength of longing brought by impossibility that she couldn't separate them.
Nor did she want to.
It had been so natural, once, to embrace so. To feel his arms around her just so, to run her fingers along the back of his hand like that. It felt better than natural, now. Blissful, rather. Each moment stetched into a small eternity.
He said her name, and for a moment there was nothing more important than that.
Then her face finally beamed into a smile, the one that was pure Justine happiness and he probably knew so well. "I'm here. Right here, Thomas." Where she belonged.
--
He had a smile to match hers, though she only saw it for a moment before he was kissing her with all the pent up longing and passion of a man kept at from an integral part of himself for much too long. To lose having this -- having her -- again would be pure torture for him.
But that's another thing he's quite steadfastly not thinking about at the moment. Not when his entire being is focused on the woman in his arms.
--
Justine melted against him, losing herself into the kiss with an abandom that had nothing at all to do with his mojo, it just couldn't, and was all coming from deeper within. Then they had to break for breath, and she half-groaned, half whimpered at the separation, miniscule as it was. Her eyes focused on his face from so much closer than was safe... had been safe, and her fingers traced, caressed his features.
"This... I never even imagined anything could feel like this. So good as feeling you again." They'd done passion and desire, pure and unapologetic. They'd done poetry, epic or just the kind involving yearning without touch. But this... the whole went way beyond the sum of the parts.
And then she was kissing him again. After all, they had no reason not to.
--
He was all for kissing again. And again. And once or twice more for good measure. He would, in fact, be quite content to stay here with Justine like this for the rest of time the evening, if he had his way. But things like this don't just "happen" and he'd be a fool to just let it go.
But that could wait a little longer. Another kiss or two, at least.
"I suppose now would be a bad time to suggest absence made the heart grow fonder?" He grinned at her, full of mirth and joy. "But I know what you mean. This seemed...impossible." Unless he made a proverbial deal with the devil. But he wouldn't tell Justine that.
Then again, he wasn't sure Mab was any better than a demon. Well, she was prettier, at least.
--
Laughter bubbled up out of Justine, at the absurdity of that. No, not the absurdity, the clear, aching truth in it - in a way. Or maybe echoing his mirth. "Or the mind more willing." She didn't think either of their hearts could grow fonder. "Or just more appreciative." And then the word 'impossible' made her furrow her eyebrows a bit, through not enough to look away from his face or stop her fingers from caressing the side of his neck.
"I thought I might save some time by skipping past the 'I can't believe this is happening' part." Time - and she hadn't thought about it being a temporary thing quite yet; it was just time that had to be made up for - that could be much better employed, demonstrably, by taking it to kiss him some more. She did know they couldn't spend too much more time like this right now, so both fingers and lips tried to drink their full. Only interrupted by the eyes, which in turn thirsted for seeing him this happy.
If asked, she'd say she'd give anything to return that look onto his face, probably. But right now, she concentrated on keeping it there.
Even if now he'd mentioned the word, she knew it was so. And yet it was happening.
Yes, like this was the first impossible thing she'd run across in her life. Really. Few of them had this level of an up, though.
Later, she'd probably wonder what the downs would be. But not now. No, nothing to take any of the sweetness from the moment.
--
Somehow, they'd ended up actually sitting down, entwined together. Neither looked too inclined to move at any point in the near future and both likely looked far more happy than they had in... years.
This called for, as Justine thought of it, making up for lost time. Thomas certainly didn't mind in the least being that he didn't care to let go of her. Ever. So they stayed there, together, talking and making up for all that time, as it were, as long as they could conceivably get away with before they had to start worrying about others coming to see what the hell they were getting up to. There's already been whispered gossip about them and the things Thomas must be getting up to with her behind closed doors. Things much more depraved than he'd ever done with Justine, but few in the White Court or of its hangers-on could likely conceive of how their relationship truly worked after all.
Eventually, though, they had to begin wrapping things up. Which is how Thomas ended up sighing reluctantly at a lull in their far too-sweet-to-be-printed conversation and glancing toward the door. "Lara's probably wondering what's keeping you."
--
Justine had managed to forget the world outside the door, actually. Or at least it relevancy, or lack of it, for the time being. All she wanted, all she needed? Was right here.
What was outside? Secrets and lies. Including her own. And also? Reality. A certain sort of it.
Not the one she preferred, but reality that beckoned to both of them nonetheless.
"I couldn't really presume to know what kind of things My Lady Lara would be thinking, but I shouldn't keep her waiting. I guess." She nodded, then held his face for another kiss, tender even with the still-present hunger, and started disentangling herself. Touching him at every chance - the back of her hand along the inside of his arm, her cheek against his neck. This room had seen them untouchable enough times. Now it was different.
"We'd better not let this be known... had we?" It was almost a rhetorical question, really. Thomas was playing by Lara's rules, and yet he wasn't. Because Lara's hold was firm - but not absolute. And this could make it absolute. No. Not through me...
Eventually, she could stand up and with an amused smile gave him a hand up. Not because he needed anything like it. But so that their fingers would twine for a moment.
Knowing it was possible and not doing it was going to be hard.
But not too hard a price for the freedom of movement, as long as they both knew there was something for the stolen moment here. Or wherever.
--
Thomas shook his head in agreement, "no, we'd better not." One more secret to keep. But secrets he was used to.
Unless....Thomas paled a little at the next thought he'd had. "If this means you're also not protected from the others..." It made a certain sort of sense. He looked determinedly into her eyes, "you'll have to be even more careful than you have been." It was almost enough to make him pull her out of there right then and there. But he knew better.
He straightened his shirt a little and ran his fingers through her hair as if to smooth it but more just for the excuse to touch her again. "We'll make this work." However they could.
--
Her eyes widened at that thought how bad THAT could get. Nobody had even tried to feed on her for a while - as far as she could tell, at least. Certainly nobody was touching her anymore, information had spread rather quickly... Lara had 'forgotten' warning a few of the Court about it, but the word of the burns had spread quickly enough. And if somebody had tried to, ah, get her attention from a distance, she couldn't tell.
After having lived in this world of tug-and-pull for so long, it had been a strange feeling of being disconnected at the beginning. Oh, she felt infinitely worse for being disconnected from Thomas, but the whole ambience's change was also felt. But if...
"I'll be very careful." The 'if I have a chance to resist' went without saying. "I'll call you if anything happens. Then it would make sense I come away." It would make sense. And she wouldn't be just there to torture him with her presence. She'd be there as before!
While staying here at the Court would be more risky than the information she'd managed to collect, so far. If somebody realized she was food again, she might not even get to see what kind of plotting might Lara turn that into. "Do you think it's something that was done to me then? I don't remember anything that could have been it." If it was him protected from her protection, that would be fine. If it was her protection stripped away - she didn't want to think how crazy that could drive him.
... and then his touch and reassurance made her smile again. As long as he wasn't in direct danger, she could, too, without it being strained or false. And this? Despite the danger, the mere fact that they could. touch. was making her happier than she'd thought possible. Nothing was for really free. And if danger was the price... There was always danger. Now there was a bonus to it.
"Yes, we will." She looked him over (oh he always looked perfect...) in need something needed straightening, then brushed her fingertips along his cheek again and nodded. "I'm ready."
--
Thomas' brow furrowed, "I'm not sure if it was you or me." It could be either. It could be both. And he'd rather have Justine forewarned just in case than caught by surprise. It went without saying that if Justine's protection was gone and anyone besides Thomas took advantage of it, Thomas would quite cheerfully have their heart on a platter. But...no sense in borrowing trouble. Well, no more trouble anyway. He nodded, "call me. I'll take care of you." Something else that didn't really have to be said, but he did anyway. It was important and the words had an echo of i love you in them.
One last time, he kissed her fingertips, then he kissed her with a gentle smile before pulling away so they both could put their masks back on before opening the door. "So am I." He supposed.
--
They had fallen back to the habit of not saying it, both of them. Lest the charm be broken, she supposed. But it was there, without a doubt. And that last kiss... well. If somebody knew how how to make this woman want more, his name was surely Thomas Raith. He sated the thirst and deepened it.
And she loved him.
As soon as the door was open, her eyes were downcast, her face a trifle more slack. She stepped out, careful not to touch him, and made a couple of steps outside, hearing him close the door.
She could still tell where he was. But right now she seemed to miss the warmth of him behind her and she couldn't go on just like that.
Her voice carefully with the odd, almost sing-song cadence that it usually had here, just in case somebody was passing along an adjacent hallway (and she suspected he hated that voice somehow, because it called out she's helpless in a Court of predators) she said. "Thomas - I think I forgot my phone inside." Which was even true. She'd taken it out of a pocket for the sake of convenience when they'd first sat down. She faced him, eyes meeting his briefly as she completed her turn back towards their room.
Of course, she could have come back for the mobile after he'd left. But then they couldn't steal another moment together, could they?
--
Oh, he did hate that voice. It didn't help the reaction he himself felt when he heard her sounding like a broken winged bird. But he was more than capable, by now, of ignoring the instinctual reaction of the predator within and merely nodded, with a slight, indulgent smile on his lips. "Let's go back and find it then," he said, pitching his voice to sound like someone who walked on eggshells around the girl, afraid she'd break even further. Just as would be expected of him.
So saying, he pushed the door back open behind them and gestured for her to go first. Once she was back within the room, he slipped in behind her, closing the door yet again. He believed her when she said she'd forgotten her phone but he also knew she didn't need him to help her get it. Just one more chance to be together before they had to be apart. And he was already reaching to pull her back close to him though some instinct was screaming at him it was a bad idea in the instant before his hand closed around her bare wrist. Something had changed yet again.
Thomas hissed in pain, jerking his hand away from her, blisters already raising to the surface of his palm. He looked down at his hand dully and ground out, "that answers that question," The question of just how long this was going to last.
Not nearly long enough.
--
Justine froze mid-motion towards him when he jerked away, her eyes flying toward his hand, then growing very very wide. "No no no no..." She took a breath, trying to understand.
"It's... gone? I didn't do anything!" He's in pain. I burned him again. No... NO! No, not like that. Think.
"Ice," she choked. "We can go down to the kitchen for a drink with ice, if you don't want to fiddle with the med kit." She realized her nails were digging into her palms, stopping herself from reaching to help - which would just hurt more. "Or you could demonstrate it as a sign of lack of control." Lara would probably like that, in a way.
Justine hated it right now. But that was of lesser importance. She reached to open the door again. The sooner there was some relief to the burn, the better.
And just for the briefest of instants, she thought that right now, she didn't want to face the room where they'd been given a moment of bliss, and then it was taken from them again. Not yet.
--
Thomas scowled, more at himself than at her. He should have expected something like this. "It wasn't you. It definitely wasn't you, Justine."
He looked up at her and flexed his fingers. "I'll keep it." It would be a good reminder for him as well as a demonstration for the others. Nothing was irreparably damaged, it wouldn't affect the use of his hand. It'd just look bad. A little scar tissue never killed anyone.
But he did let her go to the door, "we can wrap it up, if you want. But it won't take long to heal as much as it's going to anyway." He'd been good, after all, about keeping himself fed. This was a pretty minor injury compared to some of the others he'd gotten in the past.
Let everyone think stupid, pathetic, dilettante Thomas couldn't control himself. That was just fine with him.
--
She was thinking along the lines of immediate relief, because she did know it would heal (no, stop it Justine, this isn't the time for thinking of him laying down and caressing his hair as his body was knitting itself together as he grew colder and colder...). Stopping the pain.
She just nodded. Then her fingers did reach towards him, closing over his sleeve. She'd not cry over the second loss of that. God, she would not. Not where anyone could see.
"Let's go take the fire out of that."
--
He paused and pulled away from her, going to where they'd been sitting and fetching her phone. "Don't want to forget this again," he said with an obviously forced smile as he handed to her in his non-injured hand.
"Now we can go."