Woman Trouble - OTA
Victor sat alone on one side of the battered, broken-down couch in the Rec Room, poking unenthusiastically at a piece of dried meat he'd been picking at for a while, and occasionally giving a weary sigh or an irritable growl under his breath. He had a lot of thinking to do.
He'd recovered himself a little since Emma had re-established the mental link between the two of them, but there was still that nagging, niggling feeling that Jean had left behind in his mind, whether intentional or accidental; he needed to do bad things, to feed that part of him that thrived on anger, lust and pain, and he couldn't exercise it fully with Emma. The things he'd done with Jean while he'd been separated from Emma had reminded him just what he could be capable of, made him remember what he could do when he wasn't tied down to any one woman in particular. He could hunt, and he could fuck, and he could kill.
That surge of desire he'd felt when he and Jean had turned on Olivia, the need to take the blonde and punish her, then go to Jean and rut with her until their appetites had been sated - he still didn't know why he hadn't. He'd been out of control, spiralling dangerously downwards towards the complete loss of sane, rational thought, wanting only to please himself and cast everything else aside, and he'd welcomed it. Rictor's words to him about Emma not deserving him any more had been a slap in the face, and he'd felt as if he were suddenly coming down from some euphoric, bloodthirsty high.
He loved Emma, there was no doubt about that. He couldn't stand the idea of her being with any other man, because she was his, his woman, and the idea of anyone else even touching her was enough to send him into a rage. He craved that closeness, knowing she was always there when he wanted her, needing the connections between them - both mental and physical - to keep him satisfied and under control, but he couldn't deny that Jean Grey was one hell of a tempting distraction. He'd fought to have Emma in the first place, and he'd fight to keep her, even it looked like right now, he'd only be fighting against himself.
Shit.
He'd recovered himself a little since Emma had re-established the mental link between the two of them, but there was still that nagging, niggling feeling that Jean had left behind in his mind, whether intentional or accidental; he needed to do bad things, to feed that part of him that thrived on anger, lust and pain, and he couldn't exercise it fully with Emma. The things he'd done with Jean while he'd been separated from Emma had reminded him just what he could be capable of, made him remember what he could do when he wasn't tied down to any one woman in particular. He could hunt, and he could fuck, and he could kill.
That surge of desire he'd felt when he and Jean had turned on Olivia, the need to take the blonde and punish her, then go to Jean and rut with her until their appetites had been sated - he still didn't know why he hadn't. He'd been out of control, spiralling dangerously downwards towards the complete loss of sane, rational thought, wanting only to please himself and cast everything else aside, and he'd welcomed it. Rictor's words to him about Emma not deserving him any more had been a slap in the face, and he'd felt as if he were suddenly coming down from some euphoric, bloodthirsty high.
He loved Emma, there was no doubt about that. He couldn't stand the idea of her being with any other man, because she was his, his woman, and the idea of anyone else even touching her was enough to send him into a rage. He craved that closeness, knowing she was always there when he wanted her, needing the connections between them - both mental and physical - to keep him satisfied and under control, but he couldn't deny that Jean Grey was one hell of a tempting distraction. He'd fought to have Emma in the first place, and he'd fight to keep her, even it looked like right now, he'd only be fighting against himself.
Shit.