(no subject)
Title: The Morning After [Following from A Shoulder to Cry On]
Characters: Noitora [supahukevaizard], Cuarta [kendraxplague]
Rating: PG-13 [Noitora has a swearing problem, lawls]
Timeline: November 29th, 2006
Summary: Noitora tries to escape, but Cuarta may have discovered a Prince Charming after all? but probably not
Noitora woke to the pleasant sight of a naked Cuarta sprawled over his lap. This would have, in most circumstances, pleased him greatly. Pleased him enough to redo the deeds of the night before. However, this was Cuarta, and last night she had been too drunk to possibly remember anything now.
This, of course, spelled trouble for dear Noitora.
He gradually disentangled himself from her limp body, laying her down on the couch and draping a blanket over her for decency's sake, after tugging up his (slightly stained) jeans. He dressed as quietly as possible before searching for an escape route, trying the front door first. Locked.
Why God, why?
He looked around for the keys but, alas, they were not willing to be found. His only other option left was the window.
He quietly slid it open, trying to figure out how he could possibly fit through with his lanky frame. Eventually he just threw caution to the wind and stuck a leg out, whacking his head a good one and dropping down to land squarely where he was squishy and sensitive. He let out a soft gasp of pain and saw stars, hoping he hadn't alerted his comatose hostess.
Unfortunately for Noitora, the mere act of moving Cuarta had woken her up. Her eyes fluttered open, but she only really woke up when she heard a quiet gasp.
She sat up with a jolt, turquoise eyes narrowing. Who was in her house, and -- and why was she on the couch? She looked down uncomprehendingly. Her clothes were on the floor, she was naked on the couch, and she had a blanket pulled over her.
Glancing over towards the window, her eyes widened. "Noitora? What the hell are you doing?" She asked, staring. Was he attempting to climb out the window? It didn't occur to her to ask why he was there. At the moment, her primary concern was figuring out what he was doing climbing out her window in the first place.
Then, even through the pounding headache she had (which made her wince horribly), the memories returned.
"Oh god..." Cuarta said, looking faintly ill. "I did not sleep with you. No ... No way." Except, she very, very faintly remembered his hands on her skin, and her own mouth on his neck ... but what had happened, really?
Then, all of the sudden, she snapped out of it. "And get back in the room immediately," she snapped. "I think you've got a bit of explaining to do."
Noitora visibly withered under Cuarta's gaze and slunk back into the room, resisting the urge to cry and moan about the pain between his legs. He slammed the window shut to get out his frustrations and limped over to the girl, trying to avoid her eyes.
"Well, I offered to leave...but you wouldn't let me get up." he couldn't believe how whiney he sounded, and only realised a few deadly seconds later that what he'd just said had probably been the wrong way to phrase things.
Cuarta blinked at him in disbelief. Her head hurt far too much for her to deal with this so early in the morning, and she reached blindly for the bottle of painkillers on the coffee table, unscrewing the cap and popping two into her mouth, swallowing without the use of water.
"Did we or did we not have sex?" She hissed, eyes narrowed into blue-green slits. "That's what I'm asking you."
He shifted uncomfortably and willed the images of her squirming body around and over him to go away. He needed as much blood in his brain as possible to work his way out of this without serious injury to his manhood.
"Er. Yes, I believe we did. But if it helps it was over pretty quick? I mean, er..." he floundered a bit now after dealing that pretty heavy blow to his masculine pride, trying to smile winningly at her and hoping it wouldn't turn into a patronising smirk.
The fact that Noitora was not gloating was the reason Cuarta knew he was being honest. Had they not actually gone all the way, he would be smirking and boasting about it, as though to make up for the fact that she'd rejected him but did not remember. No -- he was telling the truth.
She felt ill. She'd slept with Noitora, of all people ... why?
"Oh, god," she muttered, reaching towards the ground to pick up her wrinkled pyjamas. She put them on in front of him -- it wasn't as though he hadn't seen everything already, after all -- and then turned to face him, suddenly feeling much better now that she was fully clothed. "You do realise that had I been in my right mind, I never would have consented to sleep with you, don't you?"
Noitora tried not to feel insulted or hurt by the way she spoke to him, but it was hard considering the feelings he was slowly accepting he had developed for her. He swiped his hand through his hair a couple of times to try and calm himself, closing his good eye to try and think straight.
"Look, I was only trying to help. I know you hate my guts but, I dunno, you were so lonely. You wanted attention and I gave it to ya, and you know what? It seemed to help."
He stared at the floor and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, fingering a smooth pebble he kept with him for an occasion just like this, when his nerves were severely frayed. He couldn't help but throw in a muttered, "You wanted it just as much as I did, anyway.", even though he hoped she wouldn't hear.
She frowned faintly at the other Espada's remark, and her expression softened ever so slightly. "I do appreciate that," she muttered, though she would have preferred not to say that at all.
She stood, head throbbing. "I understand that you were trying to help. I'm not claiming rape or anything -- that's ridiculous. I know very well that it was as much my fault as it was yours."
"However," she went on, "you must realise that this ... what we did last night ... it means nothing. You know that, don't you? It was a one-time thing, and it will not happen again. Ever."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Noitora shrugged and brought the pebble out, rippling it over his knuckles with practiced ease. He wanted to say more to her, but couldn't think exactly what it was that needed to be said.
Finally, feeling more awkward than a teenage boy should, he looked up at her. "You remember what I said last night, though. About your dad?"
Cuarta nodded. "As long as you know that, then," she said. She noticed him playing with a pebble -- what was it for? A sudden thought struck her that ... possibly, he was nervous? But no, that was ridiculous.
She paled. "I told you about that?" She asked, heart sinking. "I -- don't remember that," she muttered. Now she really was going to be sick. She hadn't told anyone about her feelings on that, and ... the fact that Noitora had been the first was awful.
The pebble slipped and Noitora groaned, reaching out on instinct to try and grab it, but it bounced out of his reach, rolling over by Cuarta's feet. He stared at it, as though putting all his mental energies into his thoughts could make it float back to him! But alas, Noitora couldn't do it. He instead started to bite his nails, a habit he had managed to quit after a particular lovely lady told him scratching was sexy. But that was neither here nor there. Currently, Noitora had to tactfully answer another one of Cuarta's questions.
"Well, yeah, but I can relate. My parents kicked me out three years ago and I ain't seen them since last Christmas," he shrugged. "But I never liked them anyway. The point is, you need to stand up to your dad like you stand up...to me." He shrugged and stared at his hand with a narrowed eye, wiping it clean on his jeans.
"But if you don't remember I probably shouldn't remind you. I've dug a deep enough hole already."
The pebble Noitora had been occupied with rolled to her feet, and she bent down, picking it up to marvel at its smoothness. However, she soon extended her hand, leaving it in her open palm. "Here," she said, obviously expecting him to take it back.
She listened to his own story, feeling faintly mollified by the fact that they now knew an almost equal amount of information. Anything that Noitora used against her, she could now counteract. "I ... I see," she said, and she did. She struggled with herself, wondering if she should, perhaps, disclose one more bit of information, and eventually gave in. "However, I know that if I do and he dislikes it, he will force me to resign from the Espada, and that is something I cannot do." She looked at Noitora directly. "In my household, women are meant to be seen and not heard; they are trophies or burdens, meant to be pretty and unintelligent, untalented. He does not approve of the way I've thrown this ideal out the window."
Noitora took the proffered pebble and then shrugged again, tossing it between his hands like it was burning. "Then fuck him. Leave. You're more than intelligent enough to make it on your own."
He rubbed his thumb over the stone soothingly, biting at his free hand with more fervour than before, eyes starting to stray and stare out of the window.
"Anyway, I suppose you want me...to fuck off or somethin', yeah? Seen enough of this ugly face now."
Cuarta blinked. She'd never actually entertained the thought of leaving, really, and the very idea made her uneasy. "He's still my father, whether he ignores me or not," she said quietly. "I don't know if I could leave, or if I want to." She frowned at him almost questioningly. "How do you pay for a place to live or your tuition to Las Noches High if you are estranged from your family?"
She sighed. "Look. I don't mind you when you're actually being civil, you know? And it's not that you're ugly. It's that you can be a right prick when you want to be, and it drives me up the wall."
Cuarta hesitated, then sighed. "Come on," she said, turning away from him and heading towards the kitchen, "You might as well stay for breakfast, at least."
Noitora blinked and watched her retreating back, his mouth feeling dry and foreign compared to the rest of his body. She was...being nice? She had complimented him in a roundabout way, and that alone made Noitora's chest clench and his head spin with delightful feelings he had never experienced before. This worried him greatly.
He followed her and scratched the back of his head as he replied, "Well, they give me an allowance to keep me quiet. Pay for my fees still. They ain't bastards, jus' prefer me being out of their hair now I'm 'grown up'. I work in Plateado Pizza to get some extra cash, too, you know?"
He heard his stomach rumble as he finished, blushing a little as one slim hand settled on the taught muscle of his stomach, feeling it shudder with the protests of being empty. "You know, breakfast would be real good right now."
She entered the kitchen of her large mansion, then turned around to face him. "If I left my family, I wouldn't get such privileges," she pointed out. "If I left, all ties would be severed. Anyway, I'm not so sure my father could take it if I left. He may not particularly care about me, but he does care about the person I look exactly like, and it would like my mother leaving him for a second time, this time due to her own decisions."
She opened the refrigerator, bending down to get the orange juice from the shelf. "What do you want to drink? We've got water, milk, orange juice...?"
Noitora listened intently as she spoke, but found his mind straying predictably as she bent down, her already small shorts hitching up further between her thighs where he had rested so comfortably the night before. He reminded himself that now was nice time, and that she was telling him things she probably hadn't told anyone else.
"I could help. You could stay with me until you got on your feet, found a job." he didn't even think about what he was saying, going more on wistful thinking than anything else but sounding surprisingly innocent. "Milk." he stated suddenly in reply to her previous question, as though nothing major had just followed it seconds before.
She reached in to get both the gallon of milk and the orange juice carton out, and straightened, placing them on the counter before she moved over to the cabinets to get two tall glasses.
She poured their drinks, gesturing for Noitora to have a seat at the counter, where there were three stools set up in a row, much like a bar. "The dining room table is too long," she informed him, "So you'll have to make do here."
Cuarta looked surprised at Noitora's offer. "Thank you for the offer," she said, and actually meant it. "But ... like I said, if I left, I don't think Father would hold up all that well. I don't want to be responsible for the death of my other parent, after all."
She looked sideways at him. "What do you want to eat? I'm not the best cook, but I can make a few things."
The rumble of his stomach insisted that Noitora just ask for something edible, and fast. "Er...bacon and toast would be nice?" he asked, leaving it open for Cuarta to decline and offer something else instead. He was still trying to get his mind around her seemingly blaming herself for the death of her mother, and, as much as the Espada wanted to comfort this mysterious girl, memories of what an innocent arm-rubbing led to last night told him he should keep his hands to himself.
"Right, okay." he said simply, tying not to sound as crushed as he was suddenly feeling. "I shouldn't have offered anyway after...you know..."
"Bacon and toast I can do," she said with a short nod, delving into the refrigerator again for the bacon. She took out a few strips before placing it in the oven the way the cook had taught her to ages ago.
"It's got nothing to do with that," Cuarta said sharply. "If I was horribly angry over that, I wouldn't have let you stay for breakfast. As it is, you're here, and we're talking, aren't we?" She arched an eyebrow at him, rubbing her forehead, which was still aching, though not as badly. "The offer -- there was nothing wrong with it. I declined it because I know that I can't leave, even if I wanted to. I'd feel too guilty." Her tone softened as she turned away from him to get the bread out from the drawer. "I'd feel like I was letting her down, and that's the last thing I'd ever want to do." She laughed, a bit bitterly. "She wanted to be a model, like she was. Miss America and all that. I'm not into that stuff, though -- she was always so disappointed because of that, and I don't want to disappoint her more than I already have."
She glanced at him quizzically. "How many pieces of toast do you want?"
He felt even more useless now. Hopelessly and pathetically useless. He thought he had problems, and yet this woman before him was talking about a lifetime of disappointment whilst with cooking him breakfast. A possible glimpse into his future? He certainly hoped not.
"Two, please." he murmured, rolling the pebble along the table between his hands, before flicking it lightly between the salt and pepper pots to score a goal. Usually he would have cheered for himself, as this was a common breakfast ritual, but the woman he had woken up with this morning did not seem the type to be amused by silly antics. They were only an act, anyway.
He opened his mouth again to try and say something comforting but knew that he'd only end up sounding stupid, instead opting for a whispered, "I'm sorry."
For the first time, he actually meant it.
She nodded, taking one slice for herself and putting them into the four-slice toaster, putting it on the medium setting that would leave the toast perfectly done.
Cuarta turned towards him in surprise. "It's nothing for you to be sorry for," she said with a roll of her shoulders that might have passed for a shrug. "My life is pretty good, after all. He's always in Hollywood, directing those films of his, and I'm free to do as I please. And it's not like ... like I live with this cloud of oppression hanging over my head. There are just little things. Nowhere near getting kicked out of my house."
She smiled wryly at him, checking the oven as it beeped, telling her the preheating was finished, then came around to sit next to Noitora, sipping her juice.
He smiled in return, feeling a tingling in the pit of his stomach once again in the knowledge he had given her such a reaction. A part of his mind that was still like a young boy's felt a great sense of pride that none of the other Espada could make her smile or laugh or...moan.
He drunk his milk and took great lengths to not turn to her with a white moustache, wanting anything but to look like that flamboyant fool Doldoni. He couldn't think of what to say to her that wouldn't come out mumbled or sounding for too fluffy for his own good, so instead occupied his mouth by chewing his thumb again, trying to ignore the distinct taste of pebble it left on his tongue.
She sat there in silence for a few moments as the toast and bacon cooked, merely drinking her juice. Then, all of the sudden, she spoke again.
"You know," she admitted, "you're not actually so bad, at times." Although sometimes Noitora could be the bane of her existence, at the moment, he was being particularly nice and ... she didn't actually mind spending time with him.
He raised the eyebrow visible and glanced over at her, head tilting back with a grin that betrayed only a small amount of sexual desire. "Oh? Guess I'll have to fix that eventually and catch up on being a bastard." He hoped she realised he was joking, but certainly hoped she did not see the slight blush that was working his way from his burning ears and across his pale, slim face.
"I guess you ain't so bad either, even though you're a right ice queen in school."
Cuarta rolled her eyes, although she did realise he was kidding around. She did not notice the pink spots that appeared on his cheeks, because the toast had popped up. She put down her glass, walking around the counter to get it.
"I suppose I am," she said with a shrug. "Though if I wasn't, everyone would say I'm a slut. If I have to choose between that or 'ice queen', I'd take the latter any day."
She pulled two plates from the cupboard above the toaster, saying, "What do you like on your toast?"
"Nothin', thanks." Noitora sighed, looking up at the ornate ceiling so his hair fell back from his forehead, exposing his face fully for a rare moment. It seemed everything in this house was expensive, even down to the detail on something no one was ever going to study. Well, until now, it seemed.
He made sure not to watch Cuarta, instead starting to count the tiles and arch his neck further back, wondering briefly if she'd left her mark on him last night as he had done to her.
She nodded, handing him the plate with his plain toast as she got out butter for herself. She hated eating toast dry, and spread a very small amount of butter on her toast, taking a bite out of it before she reached the counter again.
Cuarta arched an eyebrow at him as she noticed him craning his head to look at the ceiling. "You look like you've never seen a house before," she remarked dryly.
"This is because I live in a box, babe." he replied, tone equally as dry before he faced her again, nodding his thanks for the toast before he took a large bite, quieting his stomach as it growled at him again.
He folded the rest of the toast up, dipping it into his milk a few times before eating it hurriedly, finally feeling satisfaction as his stomach was filled, even if it was only slightly.
"A box?" she inquired, her other eyebrow raising as well, now. She assumed he meant an apartment and not a real box. She couldn't imagine Noitora living in a box.
A sudden image of the too-tall Espada attempting to fit in a cardboard box flitted across her mind, and she covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her laughter. "I don't know how well you'd fit in an actual box."
He grinned at her, sharing her amusement even though he wasn't entirely sure why. She looked positively adorable when she laughed, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
"Nah, your house is just so...different to anything I've ever seen before 'cept on TV. It's nice, makes my shitty little place seem not worth going back to." he said all this with a light tone, showing he didn't really mean any harm. He was envious, yes, but knew that Cuarta was touchy when it came to her lifestyle and background. He didn't want to hurt her feelings with some meaningless comment.
She shrugged. "I'll admit it, I like my house," she said, glancing around at it as though she was seeing it for the first time, as Noitora was. "We've got a lot of nice things -- both an indoor and an outdoor pool, a hot tub, an entertainment centre, a sauna ... we've got a lot of things. It's kind of boring, though, when you get used to it. I suppose if I'd had siblings it might have been better, but as an only child, I'm often here alone. There's not much you can do by yourself."
She wasn't complaining, of course, just stating facts. "The bacon should be done in a few minutes," she told him. "Have you got any time you need to leave?"
Noitora gaped as she listed off a number of luxury items he'd only ever heard of, trying not to seem like some sort of hobo in how amazed he was. His parents--now they were well off, successful businessmen both of them, and whenever they stayed somewhere it was the best money could buy. But Noitora had never been a part of that world, and had never wanted to be, his rebellious ways of living were testament to the fact.
He realised now, though, that he'd die of shame if Cuarta ever even came near his apartment.
"Mm, good. I'm starving." he took her question as a hint and winced inwardly, pushing his chair back a little. "I guess? If you want me to go just say. I could have this bacon on the way home if you want."
His expression told her clearly that he didn't want to go, but he covered it with a trademark Noitora sleaze-grin, taking another large bite of his toast.
Cuarta blinked at him confusedly. Then, she shrugged. "I was just wondering. I was going to offer to show you around, that's all." She turned away from him, sliding off the stool to open up the oven.
"Oh, it's done," she said, pulling it out with potholders, putting a few slices on each of their plates before putting the pan into the sink, turning on the water to rinse it off.
"A tour? Well, sure, okay. Can I eat as we go?" he paused, picking up some bacon and chewing it happily before licking his fingers clean. "I promise I won't drop anything."
He fluttered his eyelashes and carried on eating, realising he was probably going to finish all his food before she'd even got him out of the door.
She shrugged. "I don't care," she said, picking up a slice of her own bacon, eating it quickly. "I'm not the kind of person to care if furniture gets dirty."
She left her orange juice sitting on the counter, picking up her last two pieces of bacon to take with her, placing them on a napkin. "Follow me, then."
She lead him through the different rooms -- the dining room, with it's lonely, long table, the entertainment centre just beyond her father's bedroom with its huge, flat screen television and giant sound system, and the pool just beyond that, with the hot tub and sauna right nearby.
They went upstairs, then, and she showed him the rooms there -- the study, the enormous library, and her own room with its colour scheme of black, white, and turquoise, and then finally after a few more rooms, ended up back downstairs in the living room where they'd had sex the night before, several things still strewn over the ground -- bottles of alcohol, the pills that had fallen to the ground, as well as other items.
"That's basically it," she said with a shrug, "Except the exercise room, but that's downstairs, and it's getting renovated."
Noitora liked the living room the best, he decided. It held very good memories for him that would come in handy (ah hah, he thought, a pun!) for many nights to come. He nudged one empty bottle with his big toe, then spotted something sexy and silky lying not too far away.
He bent down and tucked the garment onto one elegant finger, studying it with a quirked eyebrow.
"Sexy knickers," he commented. "Almost makes me sad I didn't get a chance to see them too much last night." he grinned again jokingly, stretching the cloth between his hands as he spoke.
He didn't however, notice the door open.
Cuarta rolled her eyes at him, but was smiling ever so slightly. She knew he was joking, and it was actually a bit funny -- until she heard a deep voice growl, "What the hell is going on in here?"
Her eyes widened. "Father -- I hadn't thought you'd be back so soon."
"That isn't what I asked." His eyes narrowed. He really looked nothing like Cuarta at all, save for his eye colour, and he seemed to have a very good idea of what had gone on the night before. "I asked you what is going on in here, Halibel."
She gritted her teeth at the name. "It's Cuarta," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Noitora just came over to keep me company last night," she informed him, an eyebrow arched coolly. "Because, you know, I sometimes like to have other people in the house besides the staff."
Her father didn't seem affected by her words. "You invited him over to sleep with him? I hardly think that's proper conduct for a lady, Halibel -- you know better than that! Promiscuous is not a good thing to be -- think of how it reflects on us. Your mother would have been displeased with you. And honour her memory by using the name she gave you -- no ridiculous nicknames."
Cuarta's fingers twitched, her lips pressing into a thin line. He was guilting her, most likely in an attempt to persuade himself that she was the guilty one, for sleeping around, rather than himself, who neglected her for weeks on end. "Of course," she spat, looking furious, but her father had already turned away, looking at Noitora.
"And you! What is your name, young man?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest angrily.
Noitora dropped Cuarta's underthings as if they were molten fire, feeling his mouth hanging open uselessly at the rage-filled father standing before him. He...had never had to deal with something like this before. Usually the women he woke up with were a lot older than him, rather than him being the senior. He glanced at Cuarta as her father spoke to her, surprisingly harsh, really, before he remembered he was supposed to have balls.
"My name's Noitora. An' you should be less worried about disgracing a person no longer around and worry more about why your daughter needed company!"
He failed to realise that his general 'Goth' appearance and unkempt hair (hey, he'd had a sweaty night with no chance to wash, what could be expected?) wasn't particularly lending a positive impression to go along with his bold statement. He subconsciously wondered if Cuarta's father was a shooting man.
Cuarta and her father both stared at Noitora wide-eyed. A grateful expression crossed her face, while her father's face turned bright red with fury.
She actually almost appreciated having Noitora stick up for her. Had he just blamed everything on her the way she'd thought he would, she would have joined her father in his outrage. As it was, she relaxed ever so slightly. He, however, did not.
"Don't talk back to me!" He growled. "You're in my house, kid, and my rule is law, here." His pale eyes narrowed. "How old are you, anyway?"
"I'm nineteen," Noitora mumbled, feeling quite small despite his taller frame. He shifted his head so his eye patch was hidden behind a curtain of dark hair, not wanting to make things worse.
"Ranked second in the Espada, a senior in Las Noches High." If Cuarta's father was anything like his parents, this piece of information would have impressed him. However, Noitora was not looking to impress, currently, just getting out of here.
"I should probably leave, though. You obviously want me out of your house."
His eyebrows arched. "Aren't you a little be old to hanging out with people like Halibel?" He inquired. "Last I checked, she was underage."
Cuarta's mouth thinned. "It's not illegal to have sex with someone," she snapped at him, and at her admission, her father stopped speaking, fists clenching at his sides.
"I don't fucking care about your rank as an Espada," he sneered. "That's bullshit. You're damned right -- I don't want you in my house. Get out, and don't ever come back, you hear me?" He turned to Cuarta. "And you are in serious trouble, young lady -- I'll deal with you in a minute."
"Fuck you, then." Noitora spat, shouldering his way past the (completely over-reacting) man as he reached for the door, turning around to look at Cuarta, hoping she wouldn't hold any of this against him.
"I'll see you in school. Thanks for listening to me, Cuarta." he inclined his head, most uncharacteristic but it seemed to fit in the present moment, and slammed the door behind him, walking the long-way around to get to his apartment.
Characters: Noitora [supahukevaizard], Cuarta [kendraxplague]
Rating: PG-13 [Noitora has a swearing problem, lawls]
Timeline: November 29th, 2006
Summary: Noitora tries to escape, but Cuarta may have discovered a Prince Charming after all? but probably not
Noitora woke to the pleasant sight of a naked Cuarta sprawled over his lap. This would have, in most circumstances, pleased him greatly. Pleased him enough to redo the deeds of the night before. However, this was Cuarta, and last night she had been too drunk to possibly remember anything now.
This, of course, spelled trouble for dear Noitora.
He gradually disentangled himself from her limp body, laying her down on the couch and draping a blanket over her for decency's sake, after tugging up his (slightly stained) jeans. He dressed as quietly as possible before searching for an escape route, trying the front door first. Locked.
Why God, why?
He looked around for the keys but, alas, they were not willing to be found. His only other option left was the window.
He quietly slid it open, trying to figure out how he could possibly fit through with his lanky frame. Eventually he just threw caution to the wind and stuck a leg out, whacking his head a good one and dropping down to land squarely where he was squishy and sensitive. He let out a soft gasp of pain and saw stars, hoping he hadn't alerted his comatose hostess.
Unfortunately for Noitora, the mere act of moving Cuarta had woken her up. Her eyes fluttered open, but she only really woke up when she heard a quiet gasp.
She sat up with a jolt, turquoise eyes narrowing. Who was in her house, and -- and why was she on the couch? She looked down uncomprehendingly. Her clothes were on the floor, she was naked on the couch, and she had a blanket pulled over her.
Glancing over towards the window, her eyes widened. "Noitora? What the hell are you doing?" She asked, staring. Was he attempting to climb out the window? It didn't occur to her to ask why he was there. At the moment, her primary concern was figuring out what he was doing climbing out her window in the first place.
Then, even through the pounding headache she had (which made her wince horribly), the memories returned.
"Oh god..." Cuarta said, looking faintly ill. "I did not sleep with you. No ... No way." Except, she very, very faintly remembered his hands on her skin, and her own mouth on his neck ... but what had happened, really?
Then, all of the sudden, she snapped out of it. "And get back in the room immediately," she snapped. "I think you've got a bit of explaining to do."
Noitora visibly withered under Cuarta's gaze and slunk back into the room, resisting the urge to cry and moan about the pain between his legs. He slammed the window shut to get out his frustrations and limped over to the girl, trying to avoid her eyes.
"Well, I offered to leave...but you wouldn't let me get up." he couldn't believe how whiney he sounded, and only realised a few deadly seconds later that what he'd just said had probably been the wrong way to phrase things.
Cuarta blinked at him in disbelief. Her head hurt far too much for her to deal with this so early in the morning, and she reached blindly for the bottle of painkillers on the coffee table, unscrewing the cap and popping two into her mouth, swallowing without the use of water.
"Did we or did we not have sex?" She hissed, eyes narrowed into blue-green slits. "That's what I'm asking you."
He shifted uncomfortably and willed the images of her squirming body around and over him to go away. He needed as much blood in his brain as possible to work his way out of this without serious injury to his manhood.
"Er. Yes, I believe we did. But if it helps it was over pretty quick? I mean, er..." he floundered a bit now after dealing that pretty heavy blow to his masculine pride, trying to smile winningly at her and hoping it wouldn't turn into a patronising smirk.
The fact that Noitora was not gloating was the reason Cuarta knew he was being honest. Had they not actually gone all the way, he would be smirking and boasting about it, as though to make up for the fact that she'd rejected him but did not remember. No -- he was telling the truth.
She felt ill. She'd slept with Noitora, of all people ... why?
"Oh, god," she muttered, reaching towards the ground to pick up her wrinkled pyjamas. She put them on in front of him -- it wasn't as though he hadn't seen everything already, after all -- and then turned to face him, suddenly feeling much better now that she was fully clothed. "You do realise that had I been in my right mind, I never would have consented to sleep with you, don't you?"
Noitora tried not to feel insulted or hurt by the way she spoke to him, but it was hard considering the feelings he was slowly accepting he had developed for her. He swiped his hand through his hair a couple of times to try and calm himself, closing his good eye to try and think straight.
"Look, I was only trying to help. I know you hate my guts but, I dunno, you were so lonely. You wanted attention and I gave it to ya, and you know what? It seemed to help."
He stared at the floor and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, fingering a smooth pebble he kept with him for an occasion just like this, when his nerves were severely frayed. He couldn't help but throw in a muttered, "You wanted it just as much as I did, anyway.", even though he hoped she wouldn't hear.
She frowned faintly at the other Espada's remark, and her expression softened ever so slightly. "I do appreciate that," she muttered, though she would have preferred not to say that at all.
She stood, head throbbing. "I understand that you were trying to help. I'm not claiming rape or anything -- that's ridiculous. I know very well that it was as much my fault as it was yours."
"However," she went on, "you must realise that this ... what we did last night ... it means nothing. You know that, don't you? It was a one-time thing, and it will not happen again. Ever."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Noitora shrugged and brought the pebble out, rippling it over his knuckles with practiced ease. He wanted to say more to her, but couldn't think exactly what it was that needed to be said.
Finally, feeling more awkward than a teenage boy should, he looked up at her. "You remember what I said last night, though. About your dad?"
Cuarta nodded. "As long as you know that, then," she said. She noticed him playing with a pebble -- what was it for? A sudden thought struck her that ... possibly, he was nervous? But no, that was ridiculous.
She paled. "I told you about that?" She asked, heart sinking. "I -- don't remember that," she muttered. Now she really was going to be sick. She hadn't told anyone about her feelings on that, and ... the fact that Noitora had been the first was awful.
The pebble slipped and Noitora groaned, reaching out on instinct to try and grab it, but it bounced out of his reach, rolling over by Cuarta's feet. He stared at it, as though putting all his mental energies into his thoughts could make it float back to him! But alas, Noitora couldn't do it. He instead started to bite his nails, a habit he had managed to quit after a particular lovely lady told him scratching was sexy. But that was neither here nor there. Currently, Noitora had to tactfully answer another one of Cuarta's questions.
"Well, yeah, but I can relate. My parents kicked me out three years ago and I ain't seen them since last Christmas," he shrugged. "But I never liked them anyway. The point is, you need to stand up to your dad like you stand up...to me." He shrugged and stared at his hand with a narrowed eye, wiping it clean on his jeans.
"But if you don't remember I probably shouldn't remind you. I've dug a deep enough hole already."
The pebble Noitora had been occupied with rolled to her feet, and she bent down, picking it up to marvel at its smoothness. However, she soon extended her hand, leaving it in her open palm. "Here," she said, obviously expecting him to take it back.
She listened to his own story, feeling faintly mollified by the fact that they now knew an almost equal amount of information. Anything that Noitora used against her, she could now counteract. "I ... I see," she said, and she did. She struggled with herself, wondering if she should, perhaps, disclose one more bit of information, and eventually gave in. "However, I know that if I do and he dislikes it, he will force me to resign from the Espada, and that is something I cannot do." She looked at Noitora directly. "In my household, women are meant to be seen and not heard; they are trophies or burdens, meant to be pretty and unintelligent, untalented. He does not approve of the way I've thrown this ideal out the window."
Noitora took the proffered pebble and then shrugged again, tossing it between his hands like it was burning. "Then fuck him. Leave. You're more than intelligent enough to make it on your own."
He rubbed his thumb over the stone soothingly, biting at his free hand with more fervour than before, eyes starting to stray and stare out of the window.
"Anyway, I suppose you want me...to fuck off or somethin', yeah? Seen enough of this ugly face now."
Cuarta blinked. She'd never actually entertained the thought of leaving, really, and the very idea made her uneasy. "He's still my father, whether he ignores me or not," she said quietly. "I don't know if I could leave, or if I want to." She frowned at him almost questioningly. "How do you pay for a place to live or your tuition to Las Noches High if you are estranged from your family?"
She sighed. "Look. I don't mind you when you're actually being civil, you know? And it's not that you're ugly. It's that you can be a right prick when you want to be, and it drives me up the wall."
Cuarta hesitated, then sighed. "Come on," she said, turning away from him and heading towards the kitchen, "You might as well stay for breakfast, at least."
Noitora blinked and watched her retreating back, his mouth feeling dry and foreign compared to the rest of his body. She was...being nice? She had complimented him in a roundabout way, and that alone made Noitora's chest clench and his head spin with delightful feelings he had never experienced before. This worried him greatly.
He followed her and scratched the back of his head as he replied, "Well, they give me an allowance to keep me quiet. Pay for my fees still. They ain't bastards, jus' prefer me being out of their hair now I'm 'grown up'. I work in Plateado Pizza to get some extra cash, too, you know?"
He heard his stomach rumble as he finished, blushing a little as one slim hand settled on the taught muscle of his stomach, feeling it shudder with the protests of being empty. "You know, breakfast would be real good right now."
She entered the kitchen of her large mansion, then turned around to face him. "If I left my family, I wouldn't get such privileges," she pointed out. "If I left, all ties would be severed. Anyway, I'm not so sure my father could take it if I left. He may not particularly care about me, but he does care about the person I look exactly like, and it would like my mother leaving him for a second time, this time due to her own decisions."
She opened the refrigerator, bending down to get the orange juice from the shelf. "What do you want to drink? We've got water, milk, orange juice...?"
Noitora listened intently as she spoke, but found his mind straying predictably as she bent down, her already small shorts hitching up further between her thighs where he had rested so comfortably the night before. He reminded himself that now was nice time, and that she was telling him things she probably hadn't told anyone else.
"I could help. You could stay with me until you got on your feet, found a job." he didn't even think about what he was saying, going more on wistful thinking than anything else but sounding surprisingly innocent. "Milk." he stated suddenly in reply to her previous question, as though nothing major had just followed it seconds before.
She reached in to get both the gallon of milk and the orange juice carton out, and straightened, placing them on the counter before she moved over to the cabinets to get two tall glasses.
She poured their drinks, gesturing for Noitora to have a seat at the counter, where there were three stools set up in a row, much like a bar. "The dining room table is too long," she informed him, "So you'll have to make do here."
Cuarta looked surprised at Noitora's offer. "Thank you for the offer," she said, and actually meant it. "But ... like I said, if I left, I don't think Father would hold up all that well. I don't want to be responsible for the death of my other parent, after all."
She looked sideways at him. "What do you want to eat? I'm not the best cook, but I can make a few things."
The rumble of his stomach insisted that Noitora just ask for something edible, and fast. "Er...bacon and toast would be nice?" he asked, leaving it open for Cuarta to decline and offer something else instead. He was still trying to get his mind around her seemingly blaming herself for the death of her mother, and, as much as the Espada wanted to comfort this mysterious girl, memories of what an innocent arm-rubbing led to last night told him he should keep his hands to himself.
"Right, okay." he said simply, tying not to sound as crushed as he was suddenly feeling. "I shouldn't have offered anyway after...you know..."
"Bacon and toast I can do," she said with a short nod, delving into the refrigerator again for the bacon. She took out a few strips before placing it in the oven the way the cook had taught her to ages ago.
"It's got nothing to do with that," Cuarta said sharply. "If I was horribly angry over that, I wouldn't have let you stay for breakfast. As it is, you're here, and we're talking, aren't we?" She arched an eyebrow at him, rubbing her forehead, which was still aching, though not as badly. "The offer -- there was nothing wrong with it. I declined it because I know that I can't leave, even if I wanted to. I'd feel too guilty." Her tone softened as she turned away from him to get the bread out from the drawer. "I'd feel like I was letting her down, and that's the last thing I'd ever want to do." She laughed, a bit bitterly. "She wanted to be a model, like she was. Miss America and all that. I'm not into that stuff, though -- she was always so disappointed because of that, and I don't want to disappoint her more than I already have."
She glanced at him quizzically. "How many pieces of toast do you want?"
He felt even more useless now. Hopelessly and pathetically useless. He thought he had problems, and yet this woman before him was talking about a lifetime of disappointment whilst with cooking him breakfast. A possible glimpse into his future? He certainly hoped not.
"Two, please." he murmured, rolling the pebble along the table between his hands, before flicking it lightly between the salt and pepper pots to score a goal. Usually he would have cheered for himself, as this was a common breakfast ritual, but the woman he had woken up with this morning did not seem the type to be amused by silly antics. They were only an act, anyway.
He opened his mouth again to try and say something comforting but knew that he'd only end up sounding stupid, instead opting for a whispered, "I'm sorry."
For the first time, he actually meant it.
She nodded, taking one slice for herself and putting them into the four-slice toaster, putting it on the medium setting that would leave the toast perfectly done.
Cuarta turned towards him in surprise. "It's nothing for you to be sorry for," she said with a roll of her shoulders that might have passed for a shrug. "My life is pretty good, after all. He's always in Hollywood, directing those films of his, and I'm free to do as I please. And it's not like ... like I live with this cloud of oppression hanging over my head. There are just little things. Nowhere near getting kicked out of my house."
She smiled wryly at him, checking the oven as it beeped, telling her the preheating was finished, then came around to sit next to Noitora, sipping her juice.
He smiled in return, feeling a tingling in the pit of his stomach once again in the knowledge he had given her such a reaction. A part of his mind that was still like a young boy's felt a great sense of pride that none of the other Espada could make her smile or laugh or...moan.
He drunk his milk and took great lengths to not turn to her with a white moustache, wanting anything but to look like that flamboyant fool Doldoni. He couldn't think of what to say to her that wouldn't come out mumbled or sounding for too fluffy for his own good, so instead occupied his mouth by chewing his thumb again, trying to ignore the distinct taste of pebble it left on his tongue.
She sat there in silence for a few moments as the toast and bacon cooked, merely drinking her juice. Then, all of the sudden, she spoke again.
"You know," she admitted, "you're not actually so bad, at times." Although sometimes Noitora could be the bane of her existence, at the moment, he was being particularly nice and ... she didn't actually mind spending time with him.
He raised the eyebrow visible and glanced over at her, head tilting back with a grin that betrayed only a small amount of sexual desire. "Oh? Guess I'll have to fix that eventually and catch up on being a bastard." He hoped she realised he was joking, but certainly hoped she did not see the slight blush that was working his way from his burning ears and across his pale, slim face.
"I guess you ain't so bad either, even though you're a right ice queen in school."
Cuarta rolled her eyes, although she did realise he was kidding around. She did not notice the pink spots that appeared on his cheeks, because the toast had popped up. She put down her glass, walking around the counter to get it.
"I suppose I am," she said with a shrug. "Though if I wasn't, everyone would say I'm a slut. If I have to choose between that or 'ice queen', I'd take the latter any day."
She pulled two plates from the cupboard above the toaster, saying, "What do you like on your toast?"
"Nothin', thanks." Noitora sighed, looking up at the ornate ceiling so his hair fell back from his forehead, exposing his face fully for a rare moment. It seemed everything in this house was expensive, even down to the detail on something no one was ever going to study. Well, until now, it seemed.
He made sure not to watch Cuarta, instead starting to count the tiles and arch his neck further back, wondering briefly if she'd left her mark on him last night as he had done to her.
She nodded, handing him the plate with his plain toast as she got out butter for herself. She hated eating toast dry, and spread a very small amount of butter on her toast, taking a bite out of it before she reached the counter again.
Cuarta arched an eyebrow at him as she noticed him craning his head to look at the ceiling. "You look like you've never seen a house before," she remarked dryly.
"This is because I live in a box, babe." he replied, tone equally as dry before he faced her again, nodding his thanks for the toast before he took a large bite, quieting his stomach as it growled at him again.
He folded the rest of the toast up, dipping it into his milk a few times before eating it hurriedly, finally feeling satisfaction as his stomach was filled, even if it was only slightly.
"A box?" she inquired, her other eyebrow raising as well, now. She assumed he meant an apartment and not a real box. She couldn't imagine Noitora living in a box.
A sudden image of the too-tall Espada attempting to fit in a cardboard box flitted across her mind, and she covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her laughter. "I don't know how well you'd fit in an actual box."
He grinned at her, sharing her amusement even though he wasn't entirely sure why. She looked positively adorable when she laughed, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
"Nah, your house is just so...different to anything I've ever seen before 'cept on TV. It's nice, makes my shitty little place seem not worth going back to." he said all this with a light tone, showing he didn't really mean any harm. He was envious, yes, but knew that Cuarta was touchy when it came to her lifestyle and background. He didn't want to hurt her feelings with some meaningless comment.
She shrugged. "I'll admit it, I like my house," she said, glancing around at it as though she was seeing it for the first time, as Noitora was. "We've got a lot of nice things -- both an indoor and an outdoor pool, a hot tub, an entertainment centre, a sauna ... we've got a lot of things. It's kind of boring, though, when you get used to it. I suppose if I'd had siblings it might have been better, but as an only child, I'm often here alone. There's not much you can do by yourself."
She wasn't complaining, of course, just stating facts. "The bacon should be done in a few minutes," she told him. "Have you got any time you need to leave?"
Noitora gaped as she listed off a number of luxury items he'd only ever heard of, trying not to seem like some sort of hobo in how amazed he was. His parents--now they were well off, successful businessmen both of them, and whenever they stayed somewhere it was the best money could buy. But Noitora had never been a part of that world, and had never wanted to be, his rebellious ways of living were testament to the fact.
He realised now, though, that he'd die of shame if Cuarta ever even came near his apartment.
"Mm, good. I'm starving." he took her question as a hint and winced inwardly, pushing his chair back a little. "I guess? If you want me to go just say. I could have this bacon on the way home if you want."
His expression told her clearly that he didn't want to go, but he covered it with a trademark Noitora sleaze-grin, taking another large bite of his toast.
Cuarta blinked at him confusedly. Then, she shrugged. "I was just wondering. I was going to offer to show you around, that's all." She turned away from him, sliding off the stool to open up the oven.
"Oh, it's done," she said, pulling it out with potholders, putting a few slices on each of their plates before putting the pan into the sink, turning on the water to rinse it off.
"A tour? Well, sure, okay. Can I eat as we go?" he paused, picking up some bacon and chewing it happily before licking his fingers clean. "I promise I won't drop anything."
He fluttered his eyelashes and carried on eating, realising he was probably going to finish all his food before she'd even got him out of the door.
She shrugged. "I don't care," she said, picking up a slice of her own bacon, eating it quickly. "I'm not the kind of person to care if furniture gets dirty."
She left her orange juice sitting on the counter, picking up her last two pieces of bacon to take with her, placing them on a napkin. "Follow me, then."
She lead him through the different rooms -- the dining room, with it's lonely, long table, the entertainment centre just beyond her father's bedroom with its huge, flat screen television and giant sound system, and the pool just beyond that, with the hot tub and sauna right nearby.
They went upstairs, then, and she showed him the rooms there -- the study, the enormous library, and her own room with its colour scheme of black, white, and turquoise, and then finally after a few more rooms, ended up back downstairs in the living room where they'd had sex the night before, several things still strewn over the ground -- bottles of alcohol, the pills that had fallen to the ground, as well as other items.
"That's basically it," she said with a shrug, "Except the exercise room, but that's downstairs, and it's getting renovated."
Noitora liked the living room the best, he decided. It held very good memories for him that would come in handy (ah hah, he thought, a pun!) for many nights to come. He nudged one empty bottle with his big toe, then spotted something sexy and silky lying not too far away.
He bent down and tucked the garment onto one elegant finger, studying it with a quirked eyebrow.
"Sexy knickers," he commented. "Almost makes me sad I didn't get a chance to see them too much last night." he grinned again jokingly, stretching the cloth between his hands as he spoke.
He didn't however, notice the door open.
Cuarta rolled her eyes at him, but was smiling ever so slightly. She knew he was joking, and it was actually a bit funny -- until she heard a deep voice growl, "What the hell is going on in here?"
Her eyes widened. "Father -- I hadn't thought you'd be back so soon."
"That isn't what I asked." His eyes narrowed. He really looked nothing like Cuarta at all, save for his eye colour, and he seemed to have a very good idea of what had gone on the night before. "I asked you what is going on in here, Halibel."
She gritted her teeth at the name. "It's Cuarta," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Noitora just came over to keep me company last night," she informed him, an eyebrow arched coolly. "Because, you know, I sometimes like to have other people in the house besides the staff."
Her father didn't seem affected by her words. "You invited him over to sleep with him? I hardly think that's proper conduct for a lady, Halibel -- you know better than that! Promiscuous is not a good thing to be -- think of how it reflects on us. Your mother would have been displeased with you. And honour her memory by using the name she gave you -- no ridiculous nicknames."
Cuarta's fingers twitched, her lips pressing into a thin line. He was guilting her, most likely in an attempt to persuade himself that she was the guilty one, for sleeping around, rather than himself, who neglected her for weeks on end. "Of course," she spat, looking furious, but her father had already turned away, looking at Noitora.
"And you! What is your name, young man?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest angrily.
Noitora dropped Cuarta's underthings as if they were molten fire, feeling his mouth hanging open uselessly at the rage-filled father standing before him. He...had never had to deal with something like this before. Usually the women he woke up with were a lot older than him, rather than him being the senior. He glanced at Cuarta as her father spoke to her, surprisingly harsh, really, before he remembered he was supposed to have balls.
"My name's Noitora. An' you should be less worried about disgracing a person no longer around and worry more about why your daughter needed company!"
He failed to realise that his general 'Goth' appearance and unkempt hair (hey, he'd had a sweaty night with no chance to wash, what could be expected?) wasn't particularly lending a positive impression to go along with his bold statement. He subconsciously wondered if Cuarta's father was a shooting man.
Cuarta and her father both stared at Noitora wide-eyed. A grateful expression crossed her face, while her father's face turned bright red with fury.
She actually almost appreciated having Noitora stick up for her. Had he just blamed everything on her the way she'd thought he would, she would have joined her father in his outrage. As it was, she relaxed ever so slightly. He, however, did not.
"Don't talk back to me!" He growled. "You're in my house, kid, and my rule is law, here." His pale eyes narrowed. "How old are you, anyway?"
"I'm nineteen," Noitora mumbled, feeling quite small despite his taller frame. He shifted his head so his eye patch was hidden behind a curtain of dark hair, not wanting to make things worse.
"Ranked second in the Espada, a senior in Las Noches High." If Cuarta's father was anything like his parents, this piece of information would have impressed him. However, Noitora was not looking to impress, currently, just getting out of here.
"I should probably leave, though. You obviously want me out of your house."
His eyebrows arched. "Aren't you a little be old to hanging out with people like Halibel?" He inquired. "Last I checked, she was underage."
Cuarta's mouth thinned. "It's not illegal to have sex with someone," she snapped at him, and at her admission, her father stopped speaking, fists clenching at his sides.
"I don't fucking care about your rank as an Espada," he sneered. "That's bullshit. You're damned right -- I don't want you in my house. Get out, and don't ever come back, you hear me?" He turned to Cuarta. "And you are in serious trouble, young lady -- I'll deal with you in a minute."
"Fuck you, then." Noitora spat, shouldering his way past the (completely over-reacting) man as he reached for the door, turning around to look at Cuarta, hoping she wouldn't hold any of this against him.
"I'll see you in school. Thanks for listening to me, Cuarta." he inclined his head, most uncharacteristic but it seemed to fit in the present moment, and slammed the door behind him, walking the long-way around to get to his apartment.