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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan shook her head softly. “Nope, they wouldn’t. I would try and punch you, though. Then what’cha gonna do?” she asked with a soft, amused chuckle. She knew it as a fact that she was not smarter than that. She knew as a fact that she was so stupid that, given the tight circumstances, she would swing at him without a second thought. Why? Because if he dared lay another finger on her, her whole clan would come for him. Then, they would come for her, just because she’d made the same dumb mistake twice, with the same person nonetheless. It wasn’t uncommon for people of different clans to be close... but the situation between their clans was different. The Blue Ridge Clan was old as fuck, and they were held in high regard by most... then there was the King Clan. They were newer, but they were wealthy and powerful. They’d been feuding for... how many years now? Why? She wasn’t sure. Probably because her own clan was ‘weird, woodsy farm-folk’ whereas Axl’s were much more in tune with the public eye—building a reputation for themselves. A scary, way too overpowered one, as far as she was concerned. She rolled her eyes after a moment, though, and shook her head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant, I—” she paused, pursing her lips before sighing. “I meant you’d look good in a suit,” she noted simply. By no means was she implying he wasn’t smart. Although, the more she listened to him, the more she felt just so... well, she wouldn’t say talking to him made her feel clever, but it certainly did. She gave him a sheepish grin and nodded. “You do that. Prove to everyone that you’re not just a pretty face in a fancy suit! You show them just how smart you are,” she teased him lightly, rolling her eyes as she thought about it. She then flashed him a horrified look, her nostrils flaring. “Who on earth told you that you looked sexy?!” she asked. He did look sexy in a suit, but that wasn’t her place to say, and quite frankly, she didn’t want to say it. “You do look good in one though—smart,” she snickered. She gave him a slightly pitiful look as she watched something flash through his eyes. She didn’t comment on the first bit. She didn’t want to, and she didn’t think he’d want her to. “We’ll fix that? Axl, you can’t fix my job,” she mused. She rather liked her work. It kept her mind from wandering, and actually, she loved helping people. All she wanted to do was help people... and so she did, in any way she could. She looked up, thinking his offer over. “I would do that, but I also love our little chats. I’ve started getting excited about them, you know,” she chuckled, then gave him a grin. “You could always come over. You know, sit in your pajamas and eat junk with me while we watch trashy TV,” she mused. She then rolled her eyes. “Nooo, Axlll. You are so important. You don’t even realize how important you are, do you? If your father wanted to hand the company over to his right-hand man, he would. Yet, he’s giving it to you. You’re gonna be CEO of America’s fastest-growing company. You are so, so important,” she told him with a grin across her face. It seemed like she was more excited about the whole thing than he was—or, she was more proud of him than he was of himself. She raised a brow at his next comment, a snicker escaping her at the idea of him sitting there and trying to figure out odd words as his tongue twisted. “Because I said it was sexy? Don’t you already have enough women throwing themselves at you?” she teased. “I’m sure you don’t need another sexy accent backing you up. The one you have is just fine,” she mused. She tapped her empty glass for a moment before wrinkling her nose at that comment, realizing that she had actually said the current accent he walked around with was indeed, very sexy. Ugh, she hated that word. She was going to stop using it. Starting now. She groaned as he put on that even thicker drawl, and sort of played with the glass as it sat next to her. “I also very much prefer your drawl. Though... yeah, no, it wouldn’t pair well with Mandarin. Can you imagine trying to speak with it? You’d just end up swallowing your tongue or something,” she chuckled. She bumped his side lightly with her hip and flashed him a grin. “It’s alright, I won’t tell. Things are allowed to be hard,” she told him in a slightly condescending tone. She watched him put a hand on his chest and lifted her upper lip in something like disgust. “No, you wouldn’t,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen some pretty gorgeous 50-year-olds. You...” she trailed on, looking him over. “Will not be one of them. Though, I’d like to wager ten bucks. When I’m right, in thirty years' time, you’d better have my money ready and waiting,” she mused happily. (And yes, Depp all the way) She raised a brow at him, her nose twitching slightly as she sniffed. “Well, it was a great guess. You forgot the ice and the vanilla, though, so guess better next time,” she mused. She then cocked her head. “Send me the address of the building whenever you get home. I’ll bring some stuff over for you tomorrow,” she hummed in a more somber tone. She was so willing to do that for him. She wrinkled her lips up and shot him a look. “Although... you’re just like that lovely dark roast. Bitter and boring,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She sort of stared at the picture on her phone for a moment before giggling and putting it away. “Noo, don’t disown me. I have much, much worse things I need to show you at some point!” she gasped at him, holding her hand to her chest. “No shit?! The great Axl Jager—has a forgiving heart? Never. Not ever.” She looked down at her feet, though, as the subject changed. It was harsh and scary. The memory was terrifying, but the feeling that came with it was... so, so much worse. She’d hated herself. She didn’t know what she’d done more. She’d hated herself more than she’d hated him for so long. God, no, that was wrong. She’d never hated him. She’d been scared, but she’d never hated him. For ages, she’d waited for a message or a call from him, apologizing. She hadn’t wanted him to explain, she just wanted him to come back to her. Show some sort of remorse. No, she didn’t even want that. She just wanted to see her best friend again. She’d been so hopelessly attached to him. He could do no wrong to her. It had felt that way for so, so long until it really sank in, what he’d done. She’d waited on him until her breathing started to hitch, until she could talk again... when the effects of that night really started making her struggle. She hadn’t even felt comfortable around her father. She hadn’t hugged him for nearly a year before he died. She felt awful for that. That thought made her whole body still, and so suddenly the tears were just flowing. She just sobbed quietly, not bothering to hide it. She’d lost those last few moments of contact with her father because she’d been scared to. He’d been dying, and she’d been scared to touch him. Touch anyone. Her mind raced, trying to erase that from her brain entirely. He’d looked at her so sadly. He just wanted his baby girl, and she was scared of him, as she had been of most people at the time. Her eyes clouded, and another wave of tears just poured from her face. She shook her head, over and over, her whole body trembling with the force of it. “No—I—that’s all bullshit!” she choked out, her voice breaking under the weight of her grief. “I waited on you for months. I—” Her words faltered, cut off by the sharp hitch in her breath, her chest tightening like a vice. She was struggling to pull in air, every inhale jagged and painful, every exhale just another sob that wracked through her body. Her shoulders shook violently as the tears streamed down her face, unchecked, unstoppable. “I loved you so much as my friend. I thought you’d come back. I thought you’d fix things. I—” She dragged the sleeve of her shirt across her face in a desperate, useless attempt to wipe away the flood of tears, but they just kept coming. She was unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and she hated it. She hated how raw she felt, how fragile. How much it still hurt. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe, but the air barely filled her lungs. She was lightheaded, her vision swimming, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground herself. She couldn’t break down like this. She couldn’t afford it. The panic clawed at her ribs, at her throat, but she swallowed it back, forcing the words out between gasps. “I was terrified. I was terrified of everyone. I’m still terrified of everyone and…” She trailed off, shaking her head again, pressing her fingers to her temple like she could will the thoughts away. Her voice came out smaller this time, weaker, broken. “You know how brave I have to be to sit here with you?” It took everything in her not to run. Every second she sat beside him, her body screamed at her to move, to flee, to put as much distance between them as possible. But she didn’t. She stayed. Because as much as she wanted to run, she wanted something else even more. She wanted to find what they had lost. The friendship that had once been effortless, the bond that had once felt unshakable. There had been no secrets between them. No walls. Just laughter, just late nights spent sneaking around and talking about everything and nothing. Just reckless adventures and whispered dreams. She was holding on so desperately to those memories, clinging to them like a lifeline because she didn’t know who she was without them. Without him. She turned her head slightly, and when she looked at him—really looked at him—her breath hitched all over again. He was crying. His face was turned away, but she could see the way his shoulders trembled, the way his hands curled into fists like he was trying to hold it all in. But he wasn’t. Not completely. Not this time. And for some reason, that made her chest ache even more. He’d regret this later. He’d bury it, pretend it never happened, but right now, he was raw, and it struck something deep inside her. Because no matter how much had changed, no matter what had been broken between them, she still loved that boy she used to know. That boy who had been her best friend. The boy she had trusted more than anyone. She wanted to protect that part of him, the one she wasn’t sure even existed anymore. So, she moved without thinking, shifting her body just enough to shield him. A hand rested lightly on his back as she turned sideways on the bench, using the alley walls to block him from view. Her own body became a barrier, her presence a quiet offering—one she wasn’t sure he’d take, but one she gave anyway. And yet, even as she sat there, even as she tried to piece herself back together, his words still echoed in her mind. Why was she still here? Why was she still breaking herself apart in front of him, like some foolish, desperate child? She swallowed, trying to find her voice, but it barely came out above a whisper. “I’m here—” She hesitated, blinking away the fresh wave of tears clouding her vision. She sniffed sharply, dragging a shaky breath into her lungs before forcing herself to speak. “I’m here because being around you helps. I don’t know why, but it does.” Her hands curled into fists against her lap before she exhaled, unclenching them just as quickly. “I feel better after I’ve been with you.” She let the words settle between them, let them sit there in the cold night air, then turned her head, her gaze finding his again. He looked as wrecked as she felt, and that should’ve made it easier to leave. It should’ve made it easier to walk away. But it didn’t. Instead, she lifted her hand, running her thumb slowly along his back, grounding both of them in the quiet, fragile space between them. “You still have a hold over me,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I trust you more than I should. And when I do leave, I always feel… better.” Her brows pulled together, a deep crease forming between them. “I feel like I’m getting back something I—I lost when I’m with you…” She wasn’t even sure what that something was anymore. Herself, maybe. Or maybe just the pieces of her that had shattered the night everything had gone wrong. Maybe she was just hoping, foolishly, that he could help her pick them up. - (Yeah, I tried and hopelessly failed on this on xD) |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ "well, for one, I'm insulted that you would try and punch me. For two, I would stand there and gape, but do nothing. What am I supposed to do?" He shrugged. That wasn't exactly a hard question. "I also would probably buy you a drink afterwards, because I deserve to be punched." He mused after the thought. Axl knew damn well that he had done a lot of things that deserved punching for. The only person he had ever gotten physically punished from, however, was his father. In any case, if didn't matter if God told him to hit her. He wasn't laying a finger on her to save his life. His life DEFINITELY didn't matter as much as her, anyway. Especially since he was still a terrible person and she was a practical saint. "Ah, hidden complient. I appreciate that more." He flashed a grin, proving he wasn't actually hurt by her words. Although she was the only person he actually cared about the opinion of, he still didn't mind if she teased him about being not smart. "I will do that, soon enough." Everyone would know how smart he was- and how dangerous- very soon. When no one will be able to catch him. He was planning something big, and the fricking country was gonna have it all over the headlines. He would get back at Konig, no matter what it took. "Who told me I looked sexy?" He inquired innocently. "A lot of people, actually. Do you want me to list them, or...?" His smug smirk grew slightly. "well, I am glad you think I look good- smart- in a suit." He chuckled, shaking his head. He made it his personal goal to get her to say he looked sexy in a suit by the end of the year. It would only take some alcohol, a good suit, and an Italian accent. "no, not fix your job. I know you enjoy that. I mean when you do manage to take a little miniscule bit of time off, whatever you give to me I'll make worth your while." That actually made no sense. He paused, reconsidering how to say it. "If you ever get any time off, and choose to spend a part of it with me, I'll figure out a way to make it fun." Okay, simpler, but it still sounded wierd. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "I give up. I suck at speaking." Apparently his brain had died. Naturally. His smile grew at her next words, a happy feeling blossoming in his chest. "Well, I quite enjoy our chats as well." He paused again at her suggestion, not able to tell if she was joking or not. After studying her for a moment, he failed to come up with an answer. "Are you joking or not?" He finally asked slowly, tilting his head. He felt like he should be able to tell. "No, I don't realize, and I have a feeling you'd do much better at this than I." He gave her a slightly tired smile. "If only our roles were reversed." He would absolutely love to be in Blue Ridge Clan, considering that's where he spent his first 11 years. He much preferred nature, and he despised cities. He hated his job, hated being rich, and would love to just treat people and help people. Or, werewolves, technically. And yet here he was. "I never said I wanted you to throw yourself at me." He sniffed. "I am, however, making a game plan." He smirked. She would TOTALLY be calling him sexy in a suit. Someday. He grinned at her words, looking amused. "I do like my southern accent, thank you. However, it isn't another language. I want to sound sexy while nobody can understand me." He joked, chuckling quietly. What good was sounding great if people knew exactly what you were saying? Better to leave them to wonder. "Swallowing my tongue would be VERY bad and VERY likely." He laughed slightly, shaking his head. "Southern and Mandarin wouldn't go together well. Like a British person trying to talk Frog." Yes, he went with 'frog' instead of a real language. That was just how his mind worked. Plus, trying to imagine a frog speaking with a british accent was VERY funny. He snorted quietly at her promise. Sounds like something she'd say. Axl threw her a look of disdain. "Ouch." He feigned hurt, shaking his head very slowly and pouting slightly. "I will be the hottest 50 year old ever, and I will gladly bet you those ten bucks. It's on. When you are proven wrong and my gorgeous 50 year old face is plastered over all the newspapers, you'll be sorry." He sniffed. Completely and utterly offensive, tsk tsk. Then again, he probably should just accept the fact he was good looking now and may not be in 30 years. "Guess better? Guess better? It was already amazing." he scoffed. "And the goal wasn't to guess the exact way you drank coffee." If he did that, it'd be like reading a mind. "I will." He nodded slightly, though still a little surprised she wasn't joking. "This means I'll have to buy you a coffee, though." He smiled slightly. "Since I can't exactly bring it to you at your work." That'd proooobably be bad. He knew no King Clan werewolves worked there... they went there, occasionally, but didn't work there. "Bitter and boring?" He gasped. "I am not! I am the least boring person EVER." Obviously, since he was a hot billionaire. "Worse? Worse? No- please." He was 100 percent ready to beg for his life. "I might have to hide in a different country until you forget about those worse things. What is worse than what you ALREADY showed me?" He shuddered. That could only be BAD. "I can FORGIVE." He huffed, though a smile touched his lips. - Axl noticed when she started crying. He didn't notice much else at the moment, with the way his ears were ringing and his vision was almost fully black and his breath didn't seem to be breathing, but he noticed that. He felt, somehow, even worse then, but he couldn't do anything about it. A normal person would've put their arm around her and tried to comfort her, but he couldn't. It would only make it worse. His pain doubled, tripled, quadrupled as she started speaking while she was sobbing, every word writhing its way into his heart and ripping it to shreds. "I w-wanted to. I w-wanted to so badly. I was scared I'd hurt you," He whispered, but fell silent, nothing he could do able to fix this, Nothing he could say. His eyes finally closed as she asked, no, told him, told him something he already knew, how brave she had to be to sit here, to be here at all, to be in the same area as him. He felt utteraly hopeless, felt himself shutting down. He couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything, so maybe it was better if he just... didn't. Maybe it would be better if he disappeared forever and she never had to worry about being reminded of this. Of him. Another tear streaked down his face at the thought, but again, he did nothing to push it away. He couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't live knowing how much pain he had caused her, how ruined she was because of him. Knowing that and being powerless to fix it. Not knowing how to heal it. No amount of money, no amount of words, no amount of actions could do anything against this insurmountable foe. His silent tears leaked out of his eyes slightly faster, and he vaguely felt himself trembling like a leaf, but he couldn't stop. Or feel, really. But he felt enough. he felt when her hand gently rested on his back. He couldn't do anything about it- the most movement he could conjure right now was the simple movement of lifting the now bloodstained paper towel to his mouth so he could spit out the blood and bite his cheek harder. He faintly heard her words ringing in his ears. She was here... because being with him mde her feel better? That obviously wasn't working. Look at what he'd done. She had just been sobbing. She was hurting, in agony, because of him. How did he help? He let the words bounce around his head for a short amount of time before looking up slowly, the first time he had since this particular conversation started. His golden eyes were blurred and dark, but he still looked at her, forcing himself to. "I want to m-mend this." He finally whispered, voice wavering, but he continued. "I k-know we'll n-never be able to f-fix this... I k-know you'll n-never be able to forgive me... b-but I want to mend t-this. I w-want to know y-you again. I m-missed you so much, but I was s-so terrified that I w-would hurt you again." he dropped his gaze, blinking to try and see again, but the darkness didn't fade. He could barely see anything. He was slightly worried about passing out. That would be bad. He exhaled very slowly, trying to tone back the racking trembles that shot through his body. He couldn't. The best he could do was close his eyes to hold back the tears. "I'll d-do anything. Just t-tell me w-what to do to s-start mending this, Mending u-us." He mumbled, swallowing a little bit of blood. He needed to stop biting his cheek. |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan’s eyes widened for a moment before she gave him a small smile—sheepish, but genuine. “Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to buy me a drink—surely the punch was punishment enough for whatever stupid thing you did that compelled me to swing at you in the first place.” But even as she said it, she felt a flicker of doubt. Had she actually hit him? If she had… she wasn’t sure she could forgive herself. He didn’t deserve that. He’d done nothing but try to make her comfortable—kept his distance, spoke in a way that put her at ease, never once raised his voice. Not once, in all their little outings. If anything, he’d proved himself more than once to be a real friend, and she loved him for that. These evening chats helped—more than he probably knew. Slowly, bit by bit, she was starting to feel like herself again. A hidden compliment? No, no—if she gave a compliment, she meant it. Plain and simple. But if she said something kind about this particular man, he’d twist it around in some ridiculous way, just to make her flustered. Like he was doing right now. “Your mum telling you you’re handsome is not the same thing as being sexy,” she deadpanned, wrinkling her nose playfully. She puffed out her cheeks before giving him an exaggerated nod. “Yes, tell me exactly who told you that you were sexy. The prostitutes you hire don’t count.” She let out a loud, cackling laugh, flashing her teeth in amusement. But then he spoke, and she felt her soul leave her body. Her eyes widened in horror as the words left his mouth, and when she tried to fix it—tried to reframe it—she somehow only made it worse. “Please stop,” she groaned, slumping forward dramatically. I’ll make it worth your while? He’ll figure out how to make it fun? Dear God. Was he the prostitute in this scenario? “I think what you’re trying to say is, ‘when you have free time, let’s go do something together,’” she corrected, rolling her eyes but still grinning. She knew he wasn’t trying to hustle her for money—although, given the way he spoke, she had no doubt he could use that line on someone and make it work. When he admitted he enjoyed their chats, she just smiled. It was a nice change of pace—slower, calmer. They could just be together, even if for her, relaxing took effort. Her smile widened as he asked if she was joking. “No, I’m being serious. That’s an invite to come watch trashy TV with me and curl up on the couch,” she mused. It was a silly idea—one that would probably never happen—but she liked the thought of it. She remembered sneaking him into the basement when they were younger, putting on some Adam Sandler comedy and throwing popcorn at each other. Maybe it was foolish to want to recreate something like that. But that’s what humans did, wasn’t it? They held onto the good parts of the past, tried to relive them when they could. Unfortunately, she wasn’t human, and the bad parts clung to her just as much. At his next comment, she rolled her eyes. “If only,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t want to be COO. Not with a father like his. Not when he referred to the man by name instead of anything more familial. But still, she gave him a grin. “Well… you’re gonna own the place soon. You could always let me take over for the day. I’d probably topple the empire to the ground, but it’d be a fun day out,” she teased, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You could go sit in the hospital for a while. Just—just remember where bones go and that people generally notice if their hands have been stitched on the wrong way.” At his next words, she sucked in a dramatic gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. “So you don’t want me to throw myself at you? Am I really that repulsive?” She flopped back in her seat like a swooning damsel, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You’d choose prostitutes over me? Jesus…” She trailed off dramatically, sneaking a glance at him before giving a slow nod. “Everyone knows you like your accent. You use it for everything, and it gets you exactly what you want.” She tilted her head, brow furrowing in amusement. “So let me get this straight. You wanna be sexy, but you don’t want people to know what you’re saying? So you wanna be dark and mysterious?” A small chuckle escaped her lips. “How’s that working out for you?” She raised a brow at him, grinning. “Excuse me? A British talking frog? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she snickered, shaking her head. “That might sound better than your atrocious idea of Mandarin and a Southern accent combined. But yes, I’d be very upset if you choked on your tongue just because I told you to learn Mandarin.” Then she smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But I do want daily recordings of you trying to learn Italian.” When he pouted at her, she put on a look of pure, exaggerated pity—the same look she gave patients at the hospital when they were being very dramatic. “Awh, did I hurt your feelings? Are you sad that you’re not gonna be a hot old man?” she teased, nudging him with her foot under the table. She couldn’t exactly say much herself. She’d almost definitely age like milk. She cackled at the thought. “Tell you what—I’ll start a sister show to yours. I’ll call it Hot Women in Paradise. I, of course, will host, and I’ll milk it for all it’s worth.” She drummed her fingers against the table. “Hell, we could even do joint episodes. Get all the hot people together.” She reached for her purse, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. “Here. Set a date—thirty years from now. I expect twenty dollars in return.” At his next protest, she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip like a child. “Why not? You could totally bring me coffee at work. We let anyone in.” She gave him a pointed look. “And I’m willing to walk into your lair of snakes and witches just to bring you your black roast. You can bring me a coffee anytime.” It would be nice—to have a break in the day where her friend just showed up. But she knew the reverse would be harder. His office was full of people—wolves, King Clan wolves. Walking in there would be like stepping into a dark room with no guarantee of finding the door back out. At least in her workplace, people were generally as friendly as she was. She sniffed at his comment, turning her nose up. “Fine, fine—you’re not boring,” she admitted, tapping her nails against the empty glass. “But you are definitely bitter. At least a little.” Then, that evil grin spread across her face. She picked up her phone, flipped it facedown on her lap, and let out a slow, mischievous laugh. “What’s worse?” she mused. “Speedos. Old men in speedos.” She giggled, her eyes practically glowing as she watched him visibly squirm. “If you flee to another country, take me with you! I’ve been wanting to travel.” She flashed him a grin. “Think about it. You, me, running from a horde of old men in speedos. A true bonding experience.” Raegan’s mind started to wander as every silence stretched between them, her thoughts slipping into the spaces left unfilled. She had lost count of the number of times she had just sat there, staring at her phone, with countless unsent messages clogging up her screen. Words she had typed and retyped, questions she had wanted to ask but never had the nerve to send. Are you okay? What happened? Why did you do it? Did I do something wrong? She had wanted to reach out, had needed to understand, but even more than that, she had just wanted to see him. Even if only for a second. Even if only from a distance. Just to know that he was still him. Just to see some flicker of the boy she had grown up with, the one she had trusted, the one she had loved with every part of her. But for two years, she had gotten nothing but silence. And then, when she had finally seen him again, when fate had thrown them back into the same space, she had damn near slit her own throat—not because she had wanted to die, not because she had given up, but because her body had reacted before her mind could catch up. The moment she had registered who he was, the fear had kicked in like a force of nature, something primal and uncontrollable, something she hadn’t been able to shove down no matter how hard she had tried. And for a moment, she had thought she would spiral all over again, fall back into that same abyss of fear and fury and confusion and pain. But she hadn’t. Somehow, against all logic, she had managed to claw her way out. Because he kept showing up. And even though every instinct screamed at her to get as far away from him as she could, she stayed. She hated herself for it, for being so weak, for being so desperate for something that had been shattered beyond repair. She should have left, should have walked away without looking back, should have let the past rot in the place it belonged. But she didn’t. Because no matter how much she wanted to hate him, no matter how much she wanted to tell herself that he wasn’t worth the pain, she couldn’t ignore the truth. She was seeing him again. Not just the man who had nearly killed her, but the person who had been her friend. And that scared her more than anything else ever had. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be sitting this close, shouldn’t be reaching out, shouldn’t be touching him. But her hand rested lightly against his back, her fingers twitching slightly as if debating whether to pull away. He didn’t deserve comfort. He didn’t deserve kindness. He didn’t deserve to cry, not after everything he had done. And yet, it was breaking her to see him like this, shaking, breathless, barely holding himself together. He looked wrecked. He looked lost. And it made something deep in her chest twist in a way she hated. She wiped at her own face, trying to steady herself, but it wasn’t working. Her throat was closing up, her chest tightening, her body reacting before she could stop it. Shit. Fuck. She couldn’t breathe. She was so still for a moment, trying to force air into her lungs as her body refused to cooperate. Then, finally, she sucked in a jagged breath, barely managing to keep herself from spiraling again. “If y-you really wanted to reach... reach out, you would have,” she whispered, her voice unsteady, barely above a breath. She swallowed hard, her eyes scanning his face, tracing every inch of the broken mess he had become, taking in the way his hands trembled, the way his entire body curled in on itself like he was trying to disappear. He was scared of hurting her? He was terrified of it? If he had been that scared, then why had he done it in the first place? She had never hurt him. She had never left him. She had never turned her back on him. And yet, he had done this to her. He had destroyed her. Because she hadn’t chosen him over her family. Because she hadn’t told him what he had wanted to hear. Because he had wanted to prove he was strong, prove he could protect her, prove he was worth something. And in doing so, he had broken her in a way that could never fully be repaired. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, her breath still unsteady, her voice raw as she spoke. “You said you wanted to prove you could l-look after me,” she murmured. “You wanted to prove you were strong. A-and you attacked me.” She shook her head, her brows pinching together in frustration, confusion, pain that had never truly gone away. “I still don’t understand.” She didn’t understand. And she never would. Because he had been her best friend, the person she had trusted above all else, the one she had loved more than anyone in the world. And he had thrown it all away. She just watched him tremble, watched as he spat blood into the paper towel, watched as the tears continued to fall. He didn’t deserve to cry, didn’t deserve to sit here and shake and break apart like he was the one who had been wronged. So why did she want to gather him up and hold him until he fell asleep? Why did she ache to make it better? Why did she still care? She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. But she did. And that made her hate herself even more. She took the paper towel from his hands, tossing it away before grabbing a fresh one, her movements careful, deliberate. Then, slowly, she sat back down beside him. And she touched him. She wiped the tears from his face with her thumb, her fingers barely brushing against his skin, her hand running up and down his shoulder in a slow, steady motion. It was stupid. It was reckless. But she didn’t pull away. “Shh,” she murmured, her voice hoarse, shaking, barely above a whisper. “Calm down, Princess. I’m still here.” She wasn’t sure if it was a comfort or a curse. But it was the truth. She shattered the moment he looked up at her. His eyes were so raw, so broken, that it made her breath hitch all over again. And she hated that it made her want to fix him. She swallowed, fighting against the emotions clawing at her throat. “You can’t... mend this,” she whispered. This wasn’t something that could be fixed. This wasn’t just a fight, wasn’t just something that could be smoothed over with a few apologies and promises. This was years of damage. Years of silence. Years of suffering. And she had waited for him. She had waited for him to come, for him to say something, do something, prove to her that he still cared, that he still gave a damn. And he never had. She would never—never—forgive him. But she still wanted to fix them. She still wanted to try. “I know,” she murmured, nodding slowly. She knew he wanted to fix it. And she wanted to fix it, too. She hesitated only for a second before reaching out, her fingers brushing against his before she finally, finally, took his hand. She squeezed once, just once. “But it’ll take time,” she whispered. “I need... I need you to just be here.” She took a shaky breath, steadying herself before continuing. “I need us to just do things. Be normal.” She shook her head slightly. “Nothing you say will fix the past. But we can try to make things better.” Another squeeze. “So let’s keep doing this,” she murmured. “Bowling. Drinks. Come visit me at work, and I’ll bring you your stupid roast.” She let out a soft, watery chuckle. “Come watch movies with me, and I’ll come watch your sponsored riders.” And then, finally, she met his eyes. “Let’s just keep doing what we’re doing. Make it as normal as possible. And maybe...” She hesitated, just for a second. Then, softly—so softly, she almost wasn’t sure she had said it— “Maybe things will mend themselves.” |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ Axl snorted at her words. "No, likely not. But that's depressing, I like talking about, oh what was it, how sexy I am more." He replied cheerfully, smirking in a slight devilish way. Honestly, if she knew how he really felt, she'd probably be a little mortified. The fact that there were only two things keeping him alive right now probably wasn't the best thing. Seeing her was the biggest, and revenge on his father. If they hadn't started seeing each other again, even for just minutes at a time, no matter how hard it was... he probably wouldn't be here. Every day for years he had known he deserved to die for what he did. He had grown up just like his father. Hurting people because he didn't get what he wanted. A fucking selfish, egotistical, evil thing to do. An unforgivable thing. Then they had started speaking again, and he had wanted so badly to see her that this felt like a treasure, a gift every time. Every single time she actually showed up. Even now, when he knew she ALWAYS came a couple minutes late, there was still the worry that she wouldn't come at all. That she'd realize what he was, remember what happened, and would leave. Or not come. Obviously she wasn't going to forget what happened, but... she probably didn't think of it 24/7. . "Ohhh, it isn't? Aw shucks, guess I have no leverage then." He managed to reply sarcastically, but he knew he was doomed a second later as the memory came crashing down, obliterating all other thoughts. . He was 11, curled up under his warm covers. Raina, his mother, sat there with a bright smile, golden eyes gentle. "Goodnight, darling." She whispered, kissing him on the temple before standing and leaving. He had fallen asleep shortly afterward, feeling content. Sometime in the morning, he got so hot... too hot, and woke up. Confused, eyes watering, he stumbled out of his bed. Smoke drifted under his door, but he didn't realize what it was. He opened his door, and it was even hotter, but, now scared, ran down the hall to the living room. That's when he saw the flames. Everywhere. So many. He screamed, seeing that his parent's room was also engulfed in flames, and his sister's room. Before he could react, they surrounded him. It got so, so hot. He had curled up in a ball on the floor, choking on smoke. Searing pain shot through his arm, and it only got worse. When it reached an unbearable point, sobbing, he just ran. Flames licked his clothes and continued trying to melt the already disfigured flesh off of his arm. Suddenly, he was outside, stumbling, falling, still sobbing. He heard another voice. "Mommy!" He had shrieked, trying to crawl to her, but then a dark shadow appeared. Holding a gun. Raina's eyes filled with terror as she looked at them, then at him. Then there was a gunshot, and blood splattered his face. He stopped sobbing now, everything going numb. His mom was dead. His dad was dead. His sister was dead. His dog was dead. None of them made it out of the house. His arm felt like it was trying to burn itself off. The pain and numbness grew so intense that he passed out, but not before seeing the face of a Billionaire. Konig. . Axl ripped himself back into reality with wide eyes. What the flip was wrong with him tonight? Two flashbacks in this little time? He focused his eyes, raking his hand through his hair. Ah, yes. His mother. The person who was burnt beyond recognition and shot in the head by Konig. She had told him he was handsome, so many times. "Ahhhhokay I dunno what's happening to my brain, but it isn't functioning correctly." He muttered, rubbing his temple. Holy mackerel. His two worst memories in one night. This was great. A second later, a sentence registered, and he looked at her in horror. Fake horror, but still. "PROSTITUTES?" He whispered loudly, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I am not a fan of STD's, thank you very much. And ouch." He sniffed. . He flashed a grin as she collapsed in horror, but he knew there were proooobably better ways to put that. Maybe. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Northland." He teased with an infuriating smirk, then bit his lip to keep from giggling maniacally. "That didn't sound ANY better." He pointed out. "Are we doing a specific thing, or...?" He was just barely holding back laughs now, enjoying making her squirm as much as she did with him. "Come on, I'm not THAT revolting, am I?" He added with another teasing grin, almost wide enough that his sharp canines showed, but not quite. . He lifted an eyebrow as she said she was being serious. The only reason he was skeptical was the fact they had really never been alone since that night. He didn't want to overwhelm her, but if she suggested it, he really couldn't pass it up. However much she thought he had changed, that was still one of his FAVORITE activities. Doing nothing. Occasional food fight. Lounging in pajamas. Eating stuff that he had to run a couple miles to work off. Like, come on. What could be more fun? "If you are actually serious, that would be beyond fun." She had NO idea how much he hated being in crowded bars- he liked the bowling part, and this was the only bowling alley far enough out that they would never be found by the King Clan. However, if it did happen, he would much prefer flopping over and doing nothing. (Yes, Adam Sandler, great taste lol) . He chuckled quietly at her suggestion, nodding as if thoughtful about it. "Hmm, yes. I believe that would work out QUITE well." He mused a bit sarcastically, looking amused. "Oh? You think I would try and stitch a hand on backwards? I'm smarter than That. Depending on how much they talk, I may just stitch it over their mouth and call it good." He grinned. He could, too- he knew how to to do sutures, and he had stitched himself up more than once. It wasn't exactly PRETTY, but it got the job done. He had saved himself a couple much uglier scars. "Oh, and bones? They... they goes inside people, of course, but depending on how much of an octopus I want them to be, they might drag themselves out with 184 instead of 206." He cackled, definitely not joking about removing bones from live humans. He'd do it kindly, of course. . He half snorted and half coughed at her dramatic look. "You did the same thing to me." He whined immediately afterward. "And I am not going to answer that question." She likely wouldn't like the answer. Her next words had him choking slightly as he plotted to get her back. "Cruel." He wouldn't provide an answer to THAT, either, because it was yes- he would sacrifice his own dignity and life to preserve her. "That's because my accent is delightful and I use it perfectly." He rumbled, smirking. "But I don't just use it like a tool- yeesh. This is how I talk." He shrugged. Honestly, he didn't remember what he sounded like before going to Texas and living there since he was 11. "Sexy, dark, mysterious... sounds great to me." He grinned, then thought for a moment. "Considering the dark and mysterious parts haven't come in yet... not well." . Axl chuckled, shaking his head. "It won't sound good, is what I'm trying to say. I was saying trying to talk Mandarin in my Southern Accent would be about as easy as finding British talking frog." Pretty impossible. "Thank you." He grinned, glad that she'd at least be upset if he choked on his own tongue. How thoughtful. "And you shall receive them, m'lady. I'll even try and master the accent. I'll sound like a completely different person." Honestly, he had been obsessed with accents ever since he was young, and could already do a pretty spot on Italian accent. The language would just be an add on. And he didn't need to learn all of it- just the important things. . "I am rather sad, thank you for noticing." He threw her a pitiful look. "My time as a hot person is limited, so I'll have to enjoy it while I can." He sighed in utter disappointment, then arched an eyebrow and laughed a little at the thought. They would most definitely be watching those shows together. "We can be rich together." He snickered. Sounded like an okay retirement plan to him, now. Then again, uh, he was technically gonna retire in, like, 2 months, if everything went correctly. And if he didn't slide into Plan B. "That would catch a lot of people." He shook his head in amusement. This could only end a couple ways, but it had to still be fun. "Will do. You have my word." He smirked, taking the bill and sliding it into his pocket. . "Well, if I wouldn't be murdered, then of course I'll bring you coffee." He threw her an indignant look. "Snakes, yes. Witches, unlikely. Still, they won't throw you a second glance. They are all under my command, and if they do dare say anything, they will be promptly fired." He sniffed. He didn't need a bunch of hostile idiots doing important stuff in there. "Send me a date and a time, and I will bring you your coffee. If I remember correctly, Iced Caramel Frapp with an extra shot of vanilla, yes?" He was never going to forget that. To him, the little details showed he cared the most. "Also, if you want, I can meet you at the door if you do end up bringing me a coffee." He smiled slightly sheepishly. "I know King Clan aren't the nicest folk, and I get if you aren't comfortable going aaaaanywhere near the building." Honestly, he wouldn't want to either. He would make sure she was safe, of course, but he didn't want her to be uncomfortable. . "Oh, well, thanks. I feel so much better." He rolled his eyes. How lucky of him- he wasn't boring, but he was totally bitter. Or, at least a little. Not with HER. He may be bitter other places, but not here. Not usually. . He looked a bit worried about why she looked so evil. "No- no.... staaaawwwpp." He groaned. That was somehow worse. It wasn't like it covered much less, but it was still terrible. "Where have you been wanting to travel? Like, if you could, where's the first place you'd go?" He questioned, tilting his head. At her next words, he grinned slightly. "Yeaaaah. Bonding, for sure." Or just pure terror. Imagine being chased by old men in speedos. He would dive into the ocean and not come out. --- Axl was trying his hardest not to pass out right now- didn't know why that was a problem- but it was. The only reason he was still here and not halfway across the world to live in Figi for the rest of his life was because of her. He wasn't going to leave her now, even if he thought it was best, because she had said the reason why she was most upset. He hadn't come back. He hadn't visited her. Hadn't figured out if she was okay or not. It was because he was scared of hurting her, but he should've. So he wasn't going to leave now, even if he wanted to. He was going to keep doing everything he could to help, even if it hurt him. He tightened his jaw and tried to get himself back together for her, but he just felt so terrible. This was HIS fault. He didn't know how he was supposed to live with that. Obviously Konig knew, cause the guy had killed his whole family in cold blood and was perfectly fine. . When she started speaking, he closed his eyes again, trying to listen without focusing on the pain. His shoulders slumped slightly more, somehow, as more pain throbbed through his chest. "I know. You're right." He whispered. That was all he could say. He had attacked her. He had destroyed her. He could fix it and he had no defense. He had no excuse. It was his fault, and that was why he was like this. He couldn't fix it. "I should've done a lot of things. I shouldn't have done a lot of things. And I can't change it. That's why ... that's why I'm crying." He murmured, barely audible. Because he shouldn't have hurt her, he should've gone back afterwards, and he didn't. . His eyes opened slightly as he was in the middle of attempting to shove everything down, flitted to her, oh so slowly, as she took the paper towel and got a new one. For reasons he could never fathom, she wiped his tears away and SHE was comforting HIM. Of course. He couldn't even hold up enough to help her now. Too weak. He swung back and forth from hating himself more to wanting to help, but he mainly just stemmed the trickle of tears and tried to shut off emotions to his mind. If he couldn't feel, he couldn't cry. That's what he had found out the night Konig killed everyone he had ever loved. . He listened in silence, but this time, he refused to let himself feel terrible. No. He was going to do what she said, he was going to stay strong, and he was going to help her. If it couldn't be mended, he would help move past it. As she took his hand, he felt like recoiling slightly- he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to be comforted, but all he could manage was a slight flinch backwards. After she was finished speaking, he closed his eyes for a moment and started, words deliberate. "I'll give you all the time this earth had given me. I'll show up every time. We can keep being normal, and I will do everything in my power to help." He lifted his chin slightly, meeting her eyes as he did. "I know I can't fix the past, Raegan, and I know this can't mean much... but I promise to make the future worthwhile." He would show up every day for 50 years if he had to, he would bring her coffee at work every day of his life, and he would spend countless hours just talking with her if that's what it took. He would not do it to help himself feel better. He wanted to do it to help her. Help her know that he did care. He had always cared, and always would. He had made mistakes, unforgivable mistake, but he could move forward. |
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(I've been practicing art and decided to draw Axl. I haven't drawn much lately and I hate faces, but I still have a product to show xD) |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan let out a soft groan of complaint at his comment, the one about how sexy he apparently was and how she had somehow managed to convince him of that fact. God, how she hated that word. It sounded like something an old married couple would use to describe wood. Not the kind of wood he would be thinking about—actual wood, from trees. It made her feel old just hearing it, like she was suddenly forty and married with three kids, using outdated language to flirt with a husband she barely even liked. No, thank you. She was far too young to be using that word to describe anything, let alone him. "Yesss, it is sad. Devastating,” she drawled, pausing just long enough to eye him with exaggerated disappointment. “But you know what’s even more depressing? The fact that I’ve somehow let you believe that I think you’re sexy—or that you think you’re sexy—or that everyone thinks you’re sexy—or that you’re planning on getting sexier by learning possibly one of the hottest languages arou—” She stopped herself abruptly, just stared at him, her own words catching up to her like a slow-moving car crash. If she said that godawful word one more time, she was going to have no choice but to throw herself off the nearest building. DEVASTATINGLY enough, she had somehow just managed to describe her nearly-murderer-sort-of-friend-almost-definitely-criminal-buddy as sexy in nearly every possible way. Her nose wrinkled immediately in protest, and she let out an exaggerated gag, covering her mouth like she had just inhaled the most putrid smell imaginable. “Oh my God,” she breathed, eyes squeezed shut in horror as she held her nose like something in the air was rotting. “That word. I hate that word. Find another one. I never want to hear it again,” she grumbled, shaking her head like the very thought made her skin crawl. She didn’t push him when she saw him zone out. He did that a lot—just vanished into his own mind, disappearing into thoughts that never quite reached his lips before snapping back into reality like nothing had happened. That was fine. They weren’t here to pry. They weren’t here to dig up old wounds that didn’t want to be touched. They were meant to be helping each other through this, and she just hoped she was helping. If she wasn’t, then why did he keep spending all his free time with her? “It’s alright—I’ve had a long day too. Everyone’s brains are a little fried,” she chuckled, brushing off the momentary lapse in conversation. But then he came back with some comment about prostitutes, and—God help her—she snorted before she could stop herself. “STDs? You’re not a fan? It sounds like you may be speaking from experience,” she teased, offering him a ridiculously big grin as she wiggled her brows. The moment the full weight of his words actually settled in, she slid down in her chair, hands covering her face in pure and complete horror. She shook her head vigorously, peeking out from behind her fingers like she had just witnessed something deeply traumatic. “Oh, no. NO. No,” she groaned dramatically, her voice muffled behind her palms. A stupid grin stretched across her face, but her eyes did look horrified. “That sounded so much worse. You—you need to fix your speech. That was horrifying. The images you’ve put in my head are horrifying. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” she repeated, though her tone was playful, her laughter bubbling up despite herself. No, she didn’t actually hate him—not even a little bit. Not for anything. “There are ways to ask to go do things without—without—” She trailed off, just staring at him for a second before shaking her head in disbelief. “If I were anyone else, I would’ve thought you were an escort,” she deadpanned, snorting softly. She let out a slow, heavy breath like she had just experienced something deeply traumatizing, then shivered as if she were physically repulsed. “I’m gonna need you to stop talking, Axl,” she muttered. Then, just for good measure, she nodded eagerly. “Yes. You’re revolting. I’m revolting. We’re both revolting,” she added with a chuckle. Her grin only grew when he agreed to come over. She had to admit—she was a little nervous about being alone with him in her house. But, at the same time, her cottage was in the middle of the Blue Ridge Clan. If anything happened, if he even so much as looked at her the wrong way, all she’d have to do was squeak, and someone would come running. Still, she was too caught up in the good moments they’d been having. She wanted to recreate that. “Really?” she asked, practically beaming. She gave him a hopeful look. “Alright then—let me know when you’re free, and I’ll set something up,” she chirped, before pausing to give him a pointed look. “Send me any snacks you want, movies…” She started listing things off, trailing her fingers in the air as she counted them. “’Course I’m serious. It could be fun,” she added with a little shrug, but the excitement was clear on her face. The horror only returned when he started talking about his methods of dealing with people. She wrinkled her nose, giving him a look before bumping his side lightly. “Sooo… maybe we should give you the Raegan’s Crash Course on caring for human life,” she mused, tilting her head at him. The hospital was easy. They just… treated people, no matter who they were or what they had done. It wasn’t complicated. “No stitching people’s mouths shut. No octopussing people. Please,” she added, shaking her head. She let her gaze drift over him for a moment, studying him like she was trying to figure him out. “Yes. I strongly believe you’d do that to someone,” she finally said, nodding slowly before glancing down at her wrist, imagining just how wrong a back-to-front hand would look. She let out an exaggerated sigh at his refusal to answer her very important questions. “You can’t just not answer me! They’re so important,” she huffed dramatically. Still, she relented after a moment, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine,” she muttered with a pout, crossing her arms. But her annoyance didn’t last long. “Your accent is delightful,” she admitted, tilting her head as she studied him again. “But don’t you hear it? When you want to convince someone of something—or when you’re trying to prove a point—your drawl gets so much stronger,” she pointed out with a smirk. She chuckled at the idea of him trying to master French. He’d choke on the words. “You do that. Every evening, I expect a five-minute video of you practicing. I’ll rate it out of ten before bed,” she mused, highly amused at the thought. She grinned at his promise to keep the witches at bay. But the thought of her walking into his office with coffee felt almost… surreal. Some medic from the Blue Ridge Clan, walking into the COO’s office with a cake pop? It felt like stepping into a den of wolves. “Yep. Iced Caramel Frapp with an extra pump of vanilla,” she confirmed, giving him an approving nod. “I’m impressed you remembered,” she admitted. “But don’t you worry—I’ll return the favor. You deserve a coffee in your lair,” she teased. The mention of travel made her grin. “Where do I want to go?” she echoed, tilting her head. “Everywhere,” she admitted with a laugh. “Somewhere hot, then somewhere cold—oh! Egypt would be cool! The camels,” she gushed, practically glowing at the thought. She watched him cry, her brows furrowing together, lips pressing into a thin line as something in her chest ached. She didn’t think she’d ever see him cry. She wasn’t even sure she could have imagined it—Axl, of all people, breaking down like this, right in front of her. It did something to her. Something she couldn’t put into words, something she wasn’t even sure she wanted to understand. She sighed softly, shifting closer without even thinking, her hand finding slow, careful circles against his back. It wasn’t a conscious decision—just instinct, something deeply ingrained in her. She had always been like this, always been the one to comfort people, even when they didn’t deserve it, even when she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She was a mother at heart, no matter how much she tried to tell herself she wasn’t, and seeing people hurt—especially people she cared about—shattered her in a way she couldn’t explain. Seeing him like this? That was different. That did something to her. Something deeper. Something she wasn’t ready to unpack. She let out a tight breath, forcing herself to stay grounded, to calm the emotions trying to swell up in her throat. This wasn’t about her. Not right now. Not when he was the one breaking in front of her. “You’re allowed to cry,” she said softly, voice even and steady, a stark contrast to the storm swirling inside her chest. “You did something wrong. You know that. You’ve apologized. It should have come sooner, yeah, but… you did it. And you’re here now.” She hesitated, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat. “I trust you. I—I want to see you more—” The words barely left her mouth before her mind wandered again, pulling her somewhere else, somewhere dark, somewhere she tried so hard not to go. She was still hurting. She hadn’t stopped hurting since that night. The memories clung to her like an old wound that never quite healed, like something festering just beneath her skin, waiting for the right moment to split open. Sometimes, at night, when the world was too quiet, when her thoughts were too loud, she could still see him. She could see the way the moonlight traced him like some kind of unholy halo, his face a mask of something she still wasn’t sure she understood. She could feel the sharp, bruising grip of his claws around her wrists, the way his breath had come out ragged and uneven, too close, too hot against her skin. She could still hear herself, her own voice spilling out in rushed, desperate words—Are you okay? Have I done something? Can I help? Let’s talk—please? She remembered begging. Over and over and over again. She remembered watching him run, his silhouette disappearing into the dark as her vision blurred and blackened. She remembered praying that he would stop. That he would turn around and see what he had done. But he was here now. He had apologized. And that was all she had wanted—for so long. And he was trying to fix it. She wanted him to fix it. She needed him to fix it. Because being around him made things feel… normal again. He made her feel like a teenager, like things weren’t so heavy, like she wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for the past to come back and sink its claws into her. He was fixing things. Trying, anyway. She pulled her hand away after a long moment, and she hoped he understood how much of a big thing that was. She hoped he knew how hard it was for her, how terrifying it could still be sometimes, how much she had to force herself to let people in. She wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t want him there. She wouldn’t have touched him if she didn’t think he deserved it. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice so soft it almost didn’t feel real. She knew he would do everything he could to make things right. She knew, as long as she kept showing up, he would be there. “Really. Thank you, Axl. It means more than you’ll ever know,” she murmured. She let out a quiet breath, deciding they had both had enough for now. This conversation had already dug deep enough, already scratched at wounds that had barely begun to heal. He had apologized. That was all she had been looking for. And she believed him. That was enough. She forced herself to push back the memories threatening to bubble up again, to focus on now—on him, on the present, on something lighterAxl Jager King Clan +++ Axl's lips curled into the most insufferable smirk ever as she groaned. Ah, how he loved annoying her. It almost made it seem like old times. Inmature teenage Axl poking fun at her just to see her reaction, always enjoying her huffs of exasperation. A bit sadistic, suuuure, but he still loved it anyway. That had been a better time, a better place. He was thankful he had those memories. As she started speaking again, his eyebrows lifted, and a look of pure evil delight slid onto his face. "Sounds to ME like you're a little focused on the sexy." He drawled with the more alluring accent possible for him to conjure at the moment that wasn't Italian. When she gagged, he grinned so wide the tips of his canines showed. "Another word? Well, you have used that one in every single way possible to describe me- thank you, by the way, I will remember this day- so... how about... Bodacious? Breathtaking? Gorgeous? Way-too-hot? A dreamboat? Desirable? Enchanting? Exquisite? Enticing? Fetching? Heart-stoppingly handsome? Ravishing? Tantalizing?" He rattled off every word that was even remotely close to sexy that he could possibly think of, his grin only growing wider. He put a hand on his chest in immense mock offense, eyes widening and mout falling agape. "Me? Speaking from experience? Of course not!" He gasped, being 100% overdramatic. "I suggest you not step further into this territory, however, or you will very quickly know more about my sex like than you need to and regret it fully." He warned with a barely concealed evil chuckle. His chuckle turned into a full out wheezing laugh as she hid in horror, looking more than a little traumatized. Weird how he couldn't picture himself in a mankini- cue shudder- without dying, but he could say stuff like this. "The images you put in MY head EARLIER were terrifying. I'm giving you payback. Also- what IMAGES?! You should NOT be thinking into this!" Now he was traumatized. Whoop-dee-doo. Shuddering, he wrinkled his nose. He let out a yelp at her deadpan look paired with words he hoped he'd NEVER hear. "Okay! I'm sorry! I feel bad for ever joking!" He groaned, shivering. "Everyone is revolting. No more of this conversation. Moving on." He did not ever need to speak of this again. HOWEVER, he would definitely be reminding her every couple weeks that she had totally called him sexy in every way possible. Oh, forgive him. Alluring. "One smalllll detail. If I walk into your 'neighborhood', I will be nothing more than an unsightly blood splatter on the ground as soon as the Blue Ridge Clan wolves see me." He pointed out. "I'm not saying life is fun or anything, but I'm not sure you want to be having a movie night with a ghost." Honestly, that sounded pretty cool, if it actually worked. "I guess you could probably boil the meat off my bones, gut me, bleach me, and I'd just be a skeleton, but that seems like a lot of work. And I wouldn't be able to tease you." There were methods, but none of them seemed like they would be enjoyable. "So yes, I will come over if you want, with movie suggestions and snacks, but you need to make sure I reach your house. Without being in a bodybag." He wasn't quite sure if there'd be enough of him left to go in a body bag when the clan was done with him. He had seen how pissed they were- he had almost kinda stalked her for a while, though very loosely, and he was 99 percent sure that if one of her clan got within a hundred yards of him, he'd have a bullet in his skull. "That may be helpful." He flashed a grin. "I was never trained to be a super special wonder working slightly magical medic." He spread his hands like a banner would appear in the air as he spoke. "Okay okay, I won't." He sighed. Disappointing. "Your resolve is weak." Axl snickered slightly as she gave up in half a second. He stillwasn't answering the questions, but she proooobably could've tried a bit harder. He tilted his head at her question, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Nooo. I sound the same as I always do." He never noticed anything- that was weird. Subconsciously using his accent to get what he wanted. "Huh." He finally mused. "I bet it doesn't even work on most people." Well, to put it drily, men, anyway. "Five minutes? You WANT to watch me struggle." He groaned. "Guess it is gonna happ'n, cap'n. Expect to be bombarded." Becuase who didn't want to fall asleep with the last thing they had seen being a guy struggling to learn Italian? His head tilted again slightly as she said she was surprised he remember. "We discussed it, like, 20 minutes ago, and I don't having Dimensia." He snorted. "How sweet." Actually, he was checking off in his mind- surprise coffee times. If he didn't get murdered- violently- she would definitely get a surpise coffee every couple of days. Maybe it would cheer her up, not that she needed help with that. "Everywhere may be a wee bit ambitious." He mused drily, laughing at her exclamation about camels. "Well, if I run away to Egypt, I promise to bring you with me." He grinned, eyes sparkling. "And we can ride camels." He added with a slight chuckle. Of course this was what they were discussing. - Axl blew out a very, very slow breath, trying to calm himself down. Dear god, he was emotional. It almost made him laugh- humorlessly- thinking what Konig would do if they saw him like this. The nicest thing would be jeering and saying he was weak. The not nicest may be physical abuse, but that wouldn't work out well for the guy, considering it was only his self-control that had kept him from killing Konig. He was not going to have that on his hands. He listened to her quiet words, knowing he should be the one comforting her. That made him feel worse- again, but this time he didn't let it get to him too much. He gathered the little shattered pieces of his heart and mind up, finally stemming the trickle of tears. Okay, he had accomplished something. He wans't crying. That was good. Maybe he could go for not looking like everything he ever loved had just been violently ripped away from him- which happened twice, but now was not one of those times. He still had her. She was still here. He felt as she removed her hand, knowing how much courage that must've taken to do in the first place. His nostrils flared as he breathed in. His vision started to clear slightly, to the point where he could see, and the ringing in his ears dulled. Now that he felt a little more in control, he lifted his head slightly, shuddering one last time as the last wave of pain rolled through his shoulder. Physical pain, this time- when he got too tense, his injured shoulder really started throbbing, and it didn't feel to good right now. "No. Don't thank me. I should be thanking you. For trying again. Accepting me back. I don't know how you do it, but I'm glad you are." He murmured, then let his fingers fall limp. They ached from clenching his fists for so long, and pinpricks of blood lingered on his hands where his fingernails had dug in, but he was relieved to be calming down. When she asked if he wanted a drink, he almost laughed hollowly, a faint, slightly bitter smile flitting onto his face. "I don't think want is the right word. Need may work better. I can go get them. Do you want anything?" He asked quietly, wanting to do something useful for once. Whiskey wouldn't cut it right now- vodka sounded better. However, he wouldn't drink much. He would go home and then drink enough to pass out. And take the next day off of work. - (That's fine lol. Thanks! I used a reference photo and lots of layers, but it happened haha. You should!) |
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Raegan Northland Blue Ridge Clan - Raegan watched him for a moment, eyes flickering over his face, but as soon as he opened his mouth again—that accent laid on thick, like honey dripping off a spoon—her stomach flipped. Her body convulsed as if she’d been physically struck. Dear God, why did he have to do that? She wasn’t even trying to describe him like that. She wasn’t looking for new words. She wasn’t trying to play into whatever ego-trip he had going on. Hell, how had Italian being sexy turned into this? It was all a joke, of course—it always was with them. She knew it, and he knew it. It reminded her of their teenage years, when he would relentlessly tease her for no reason at all other than to see her flustered, to get under her skin, to poke and prod until she inevitably caved. She could see the amusement in his face now, the satisfaction of watching her get all bashful and flustered, and she knew he was enjoying it. He always did. "I’m focused on trying to get that god-awful word out of my brain,” she grumbled, sucking at her tongue with an exaggerated click, as if she were trying to scrape a bad taste off it. Her brows furrowed as he kept going, and then— Bodacious? What? She stared at him, mouth parting slightly as she tried to process what she had just heard. “Bodacious?” she repeated, blinking at him like he had just spoken in tongues. "What the hell are you even talking about?" A laugh slipped from her lips, small but genuine, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don’t think any of those words convey what I was trying to say,” she mused, but then, her expression shifted—genuine concern crossing her features. "How—Axl, how did you think of all those words?" She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were looking at some kind of bizarre specimen under a microscope. "I guarantee no one has ever used them to describe you.” Of course, that was a joke. A flat-out lie, really. She remembered—even back when they were younger, girls used to throw themselves at him. Literally throw themselves at him. She could still recall one of his own damn clan mates searching the entire camp for him, desperate and starry-eyed, while the two of them crouched behind a thick patch of bushes, muffling their laughter into their hands. That was a good memory. A really good one. She could still smell it—the damp, fresh moss, the sharp scent of tree sap, the warmth of the summer night clinging to their skin. God, nostalgia was a killer. The brain was funny like that—it blurred out the bad, smoothed over the rough edges, made the good things seem even better in hindsight. And this? This was one of those things. Sometimes, she wished she could go back and live it all again. She still didn’t know why he was sitting here with her when he could probably run home with a different girl every damn night. The thought made her wrinkle her nose slightly. That better not be his angle. If it was, he was wasting his time. Her grin widened as his mouth fell open, clearly taken aback by the playful jab she had just driven straight into his chest. Dramatic as always. He had always been like this, ever since they were kids—flair for the melodrama, like he belonged on Broadway instead of… whatever the hell he actually did now. She gasped in return, lifting a hand to her mouth in mock horror. "No, God, no,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as if it would somehow block out the conversation entirely. "I do not want to know anything about your sex life, no matter how nonexistent it is,” she scoffed, giving him a sharp, pointed look before her lips curled into something a little too mischievous. "Although, if you did want to go down that route, I’d have to give you every excruciating detail of mine. So, I’d like to suggest neither of us move forward from here,” she grinned. She buried her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking with the kind of laughter that was half-amusement, half-devastation. "*The images I put in your head earlier were funny!” she objected, voice muffled behind her fingers. "This—this—" She let out a full-body shudder, as if the very thought alone was sending her into cardiac arrest. She turned away, gripping the edge of the bar like she was about to climb over it just to escape the mental image. "*I’m not thinking! It just happened!” she squeaked, pulling her knees up onto the seat, curling into them like she was physically trying to disappear. "*I’m horrified. I never, never want to imagine something like that again. Nightmare material,” she whimpered, voice dripping with faux despair. If she actually had the energy, she might’ve cried. The things that had just flashed through her mind—God help her. "The mankini image of you as an old man made me more comfortable,” she confessed, her voice weak with laughter. When he apologized, she peeked up at him through her fingers, her eyes still wide, still traumatized. "Good!” she whisper-yelled. "You should be sorry!” And then, she immediately ducked her face back into her knees. "I don’t ever want to look at you again,” she huffed dramatically. Still, she peeked up at him once more at his next comment, finally letting her lips curl back into a grin. "Kill you? Don’t be silly. You’ll be in a fluffy unicorn onesie that I’m absolutely buying you just for this. They won’t even recognize you,” she mused, her grin turning a little too smug. "I can always meet you somewhere and walk you in or something. It’s not unusual for random people to waltz in,” she added with a small chuckle before softening, offering him something a little more genuine. "Axl, I’m not a monster. I couldn’t hurt you even if I desperately wanted to. If I did, I’d probably just get upset and try to unboil you,” she teased. But really… it was only half a joke. She couldn’t hurt him. She didn’t have it in her. She huffed a small breath as he continued. "My resolve is just fine,” she argued, tilting her chin up defiantly. "I know for a fact that if I begged you, you’d tell me anything I wanted to know,” she chirped, smug as ever. "But I don’t want you telling me things you shouldn’t. I feel like I’m not really meant to know about König’s retirement just yet,” she mused, before narrowing her eyes at him. "No. You don’t sound the same. When you want something, that bodacious drawl comes out like hellfire, and yes, it probably works on more people than you think.” The word bodacious was absolutely ridiculous, but she was determined to make it work in any context she could. At his hesitation, she smiled. "Yes, I wanna watch,” she confirmed, her grin widening. "What would be better than watching you struggle with something I know you to be good at for five whole minutes? I’d sleep like a baby,” she laughed. The thought of him struggling through pronunciation, stumbling over syllables—it was too good. She huffed and shook her head as he brought up her travel comment again. "Only if you run away,” she decided with a smirk. "It’d be too easy otherwise." A small, wistful sigh slipped from her lips. "And yes. Camel riding. Pyramids. All of it. We’ll be proper tourists,” she giggled, eyes alight with something soft. "And you are absolutely wearing a fanny pack.” Raegan exhaled slowly, a quiet breath of relief slipping past her lips as she watched Axl start to settle. He still looked so hurt, though. And she didn’t understand why. Why did he get to feel hurt? She’d had to just suck it up. She’d had to deal with everything on her own, barely shedding a tear—not because it hadn’t hurt, but because she’d been drugged out of her mind, floating between lucidity and exhaustion. She hadn’t cried because of what he did to her. She hadn’t broken down over the pain, the fear, or even the scars left behind. She’d cried because she had lost him. Because her best friend had vanished without a trace. Because he hadn’t even checked to see if she was alive. Not even a message. Not even a single, damn word. But that was the past now. She drew in a long breath, slow and deliberate, lungs hitching slightly but at least working. At least she could breathe now. She reached for another paper towel, handing it to him without a word. She waited until he finally sat up before shifting away, putting a careful arm’s length of space between them. Not because she didn’t want to be near him—she did, and that scared her more than anything—but because she still needed to keep her distance. Just a little. “I’m thanking you,” she repeated, voice soft but firm, making sure he heard it. "You don’t have to be here either, but… I wasn’t the only one this affected.” She glanced down for a moment, fingers curling around her wrist. "You, being in the state you were just in, shows that you were too.” For so long, she had just assumed he didn’t care. That she had been nothing but collateral damage, something he had left in the wreckage of whatever the hell had gone through his head that night. But now? Now, she could see it. He did care. He had cared, maybe more than she realized. Maybe more than he realized. “I’m still here because seeing you helps me,” she admitted. Her voice was softer now, but not weak—never weak. "I’ve told you that.” She swallowed, letting her fingers tap lightly against the tabletop. "I don’t feel like I’m looking over my shoulder every two minutes or struggling to breathe so much…" She trailed off, offering him a small, concerned smile. "So, thank you—for coming out here,” she whispered. She let the silence settle for a moment, watching him closely, studying the way he forced a smile—empty, hollow, like he was barely holding himself together. It didn’t suit him. Not him. “You sure?” she asked gently, tilting her head at him. Then, with a small hum, she leaned back slightly. “Grab me a… grapefruit martini, thanks,” she decided after a brief pause, sending him a thankful smile. It didn’t last long, though, because almost immediately, something else clicked in her brain. Her expression melted into quiet concern. “Axl, are you driving home?” she asked, voice lowering slightly. The already knew the answer before he even said anything. The way he looked right now? The way his eyes were still too red, too unfocused? He had no business getting behind the wheel of whatever he was driving. “If you need to, I can walk you to the bus stop,” she added, keeping her tone light, casual, like she wasn’t worried—even though she was. “You shouldn’t be driving like this.” - (I love it!! I tried to create Raegan on art breeder but this is as far as I got lol. Not what I was imagining but close enough Raegan) |
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Axl Jager King Clan +++ Axl grinned as she grimaced, obviously because of his luxurious accent, looking altogether far too pleased. "Well, I hope I helped, giving all the other words." He replied cheerfully. He took great joy in flustering her. Every time she gave him that annoyed little look it was one step closer to what they had been. . He bit his lip to resist a laugh when she stared at him incredulously, smirking. "You asked me to give words that weren't sexy. I delivered. Bodacious just happened to almost fit the mold." He hadn't been very picky. "Well Sor-ry. I tried." He huffed, shaking his head. She was ungrateful. A moment later, he tilted his head as concern flitted across her expression. He wrinkled his nose, pausing for a moment. The lengthy explanation or the short one. Lengthy it was. "I have hyperthymesia." He finally stated, lacing his fingers together and resting him on the table. "It's a memory issue that causes people to remember... everything. Dates, times, words. I can tell you what happened on January 4th, 5 years ago. Meaning I remember everything that's ever happened to me. And when I was in middle school I studied a dictionary for hours at a time because I wanted to win the upcoming spelling bee. I still remember most, if not all, the pages I looked at. I ended up winning the spelling bee, by the way." He smiled faintly. It was his special little curse. Most people's minds tended to forget traumatic experiences because it was painful. That's why a lot of people would suffer a near fatal thing and it would just be a blackout in time. He, on the other hand... he remembered EVERYTHING. The way he smelled after he stumbled out of his burning house. The way his mother's blood tasted as it splattered on him. Everything. "But no, no one has ever described me with all of those words. Some of them, though..." His eyes twinkled mischeviously. . He really, really hated his problem. With all of his rotten heart. He didn't want to remember everything. He would rather it fade away into blackness as his brain did its job and protected him. Yet, he didn't have that luxury. The ability to forget. He still remembered what he went shopping for 5 months ago. He hated it, hated it with every fiber of his being. . Axl grinned even wider as she groaned dramatically. This conversation was not the most enjoyable, but he did take pleasure in watching her be a little drama queen. "Your guess is a wee bit off, darling." He teased in a heavily sarcastic tone, then recoiled slightly and lifted his lip In disgust. "I do not need to know every detail of YOUR sex life either, thank you very much." Hoooonestly, although he would never share this thought and didn't like it, he would be far too jealous if he did know. Well, envious. No joking this time. . "They were not funny, they were scarring!" He yelped, throwing her a hurt look. "You aaaaare thinking of things you shouldn't beeeee!" He complained quietly, trying to stifle evil giggles. Yes, the great Axl Jager was trying not to giggle. "I'm sorry for your loss of sanity." He assumed a serious face. "God no- that was worse. Actually, wait. No. This is worse. They're both horrible. Agh." He didn't want to think about this any more. He didn't know whether to laugh or sob. This was not a good topic. . "You don't want to look at me ever again?" He whimpered quietly, eyes widening into innocent, soulful golden pools. "Ever?" He added in a heartbroken tone, much like a child that just got its ice cream taken away. . Axl threw her a horrified look. "Um, no. I will not be in a fluffy unicorn onesie. I have some dignity that I need to reserve. You do not need to waste money on that. Nope. Ain't gonna happ'n, cap'n." He shook his head quickly. He could only go so far. "Well, that's weird, but good for you. I think. Then again, if they recognize me with you they will be MORE likely to murder me." He mused, then tried not to wince and failed. "Reassuring." He gave a half smile, not letting his mind wander. . "It is not, and..." He narrowed his eyes at her, huffing quietly before looking away. "Shush." She didn't need to pull that power play on him. Totally not fair. It was true, though. If she seriously told him to do something, he'd do it without a second thought. Even if it was jump offa cliff. "Believe me, if I thought it was dangerous information, you wouldn't know. No offense." He smiled slightly. There was so much he HADN'T told her. That was just a small fish in the ocean. "Well by golly, that's quite alright for me, now ain't it?" He drawled, smirking. "I like this new information." He mused afterward. He'd have to try it out sometime. . "Oh be quiet." He huffed with an injured expression. "You just want to prove I'm not perfect." He sniffed. "Since I'm so good at everything else, you want the one thing I wouldn't be good at. In the beginning." A couple months, and he would be an expert in the sentences he needed. Plus he could go join an Italian mob if he wanted. Why not. . "That may happen, so don't discount it. Be ready." He warned, a teasing glint in his eyes. He was about to respond to the other thing when the two words he feared quite a bit came up and he waved his hands like she had just insulted his dead mother. "Noooo! I can't. I'll die. I'll be incinerated right then and there. Fire will rain on earth and hell will freeze over the day I put on a fanny pack." That was worse than a pink fluffy unicorn onesie. Way worse. ----- Axl glanced slowly around the bar. It was a good thing everyone was too drunk to remember this day, because it would be bad. He could imagine this alllll over the headlines. He shuddered at the thought. Kill his parents again, he probably wouldn't cry. He couldn't help it- he had numbed himself to that long ago. Show him that memory? Sobbing. It didn't make sense. . His nostrils flared again as he breathed in slowly, turning his gaze back down. He was quite honestly surprised he hadn't passed out. That would've been EASIER, but who the hell cared about how easy things were. Certainly not whoever made his life course. He accepted the paper towel with a grateful dip of his head, feeling deflated and empty at the moment. His emotions had run dry. He wiped the blood off of his hands and the remaining tears off of his cheeks, glaring slightly at the paper towel. It hadn't done anything wrong, but he could imagine his face on it. Very punchable right now. He folded it up carefully and put it with the others, making a mental note to throw them away when he stood. . A small, humorless smile flitted onto his face. "You have no idea how much I want to be here." He murmured quietly. He wanted nothing more than to be with her for the past couple years. How much he wanted HER to be here. He blew out a breath at her words, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment. "Of course it affected me, but I'm sorry for not spending more time trying to comfort you. It shouldn't be the other way around." He shook his head slowly, but didn't speak any more. About that matter, at least. . He pressed his lips together slightly and dipped his head. "You don't know how much I'm glad to hear that. Glad that I can make something slightly better, in some way." He stated quietly, voice low. He just wanted to help. That's the only thing he ever wanted. He paused for a long moment, mind feeling slightly fuzzy, but he kept quiet. He blinked slowly, then nodded. "Yeah- yeah. I'll get them." He stood slowly, sidling around her and nodding again. "Will do." He stalked silently into the crowd, weaving his way towards the bar. He ordered a slightly watered down vodka- not much- and a grapefruit martini. Ew. So fruity. When he got them, he carried them back carefully, setting one down in front of her and taking his seat. After he sat, he heard her question, then remembered he... well, he was. Or wasn't, apparently. It probably wouldn't be smart. He wasn't stupid. "Not anymore." He mused quietly, fingers twitching. "No, no its fine. I've already burdened you enough tonight." He mumbled, deflating slightly more. He could amble there himself and go back for his bike in the morning. Or... well, he could also go stay in the upper part of the bar for the night. He didn't want to leave his bike- he cared for that thing like his own child. Or he could also just wait until he felt better. That was likely what he'd end up doing. "I won't. I promise." He didn't need to crash right now. That'd probably be bad. . (It looks great!) |
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Overcast and Calm
