M-No Avoidance

Levent Kartal · 03-20-2012, 08:58 AM

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sürüden ayrýlan koyunu kurt kapar

Word Count → 414 :: This post is weird and not easy to write.

Amy was scary. It was childish but perhaps the only way he could describe his emotions as his blue eyes watched her, her reactions to his story, her threatening stares and dark grinning and opened laughing mouth. The story was supposed to incite more poignant feelings of sadness and love, but perhaps he was not as good a storyteller as he wanted, or his restraint was preventing him from showing even the grief that was appropriate for one reciting a myth. He would not dare to voice his thoughts, of course, only wondering if she’d giggle if he were trampled by a bull. Grape vines would not grow from his blood and her tears, but perhaps hemlock would.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck awkwardly, taking a few moments to lock away the past she’d been none too pleased to hear about, obviously. Presently the male had no problem flitting between lovers, treating them like gods and goddesses before whisking away to a new road or a new face or to nothing at all. However, it had been different all those seasons ago.

But the past was the past, not worth dwelling on. The past was the path and Amy’s mouth was on his, the taste of her breath mingling with that of the wine, bittersweet and intoxicating. His eyes closed as his tongue teased hers, goading her on, begging for just another taste—

Wilson snarled.

The rare sound was nothing like the low suppressed growls or bad-tempered hisses that Levent had learned to ignore, and in spite of his dizzy pleasure, he leaped backwards and nearly fell. The white cat took care of that for him, jumping at his chest to ensure his back hit the ground and knocked the wind from him. Unable to breathe, he stared into the burning yellow eyes, blinking. He was an adult luperci and would have no problem flinging the cat away, but that option did not even present itself to him as he lay under the weight of his friend.

“I thought you had some bleeding sense,” the tom hissed, spittle flying from his mouth as his back arched bristling. Abandoning any of his quirky or polite slang, he added vehemently, “Fuck both of you.”

And then he was gone in a second, perhaps intelligently, with a drunk and deadly assassin at his back. Levent managed to sit up, but he was speechless for once in his life. Numbly, he looked at the woman.

Levent by Sie; table code from the Mentors!

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