Silver In Our Blood
Chapter 1
Night Wanderer
They were blue with a slight greenish hint in them. They were persistant, demanding, daring, but they were also kind, loving and caring. They kept staring at me from across the room, sweeping over my body, up and down to my deepest flaws and hidden imperfections. They sat there, perfectly placed between his slightly frowning eyebrows and chiseled cheekbones. They were mesmerizing, so clear and pure, they could've been crystals no one would've noticed. At first, I was happy they had land on me, I often was part of the landscape, easily forgotten. But as time flew by, I felt more and more conscious about myself. Was my skirt misplaced, had I forgot the price tag on it?
No, I had just forgot how guys could sometimes be obsessed, how they could sometimes turn into wild animals when in presence of their targeted prey.
I was just about to leave the pub when he came crashing down on the sofa next to me. My body stiffened: last time I had a boyfriend, I was 15, -if I can even call that a boyfriend-... pshhh nothing to worry about. Did I remember how to flirt? Most certainly not.
Instead I just kept on reading my book as if he wasn't even there, his eyes even more dreamy now that he was closer.
That's when his slim and precisely shaped lips moved: "Hi, I'm Oliver." He smiled, one of those smiles that caught girls like flies. One of those grins that made anyone feel conscious about themselves.
But that smile of his, along with the intonation in his voice made something feel wrong.
"See, I don't wanna bother, but what's a pretty girl like you doing in a bar alone at 1AM?" He asked taking a sip of his beer, his body facing mine on the leather couch.
Definitely not my type of men.
There was two ways I could've approached the situation: playing his game or put an end to this guy's pathetic flirt.
"Blaire is my name, I'm 25, single, insomniac, my parents died a month ago, not interested in a one night stand with some dude with a "look how attractive and douchebag I am" haircut and shady looking wallet that can't even tell me his real name." I blurted out.
He lifted an eyebrow up. "No need to get nasty, Sherlock. Are you psychic or something?" He scrutinized my face attentively as he leaned in closer. "sorry 'bout your parents, I didn't mean-"
"I know." I cut him off trying to be as rude as I could.
"How'd you know I lied?" He asked clearly not at all shaken by my manner.
"Usually when people say their name it feels awkward in their mouth, like they don't know how to say it. You seemed way too comfortable with it to be real. Am I right or am I right?" I said as I slammed my book shut.
He smirked and looked down to my hands. "You believe in them?" The guy asked me.
"You just won't let go, uh?"
"Nah, I can be pretty persuasive..." He smiled again and I felt myself giving up a little. "So?"
He was attractive, that, I couldn't deny, but was his brain as pretty as his face? I didn't feel like digging to find out, I was exhausted and just wanted him to leave me alone.
"I don't know. I mean, I've heard stories, legends, but it never happened to me." I brushed my fingers upon the letters printed on the cover of my book. "I guess I do, there are so many things unexplainable in life, it wouldn't be surprising."
He looked down to his beer taking in all that I had just said, he took a sip before answering.
"What about your parents, did they believe in them?" He asked with interested eyes. There was something in his look, something quite terrifying, some kind of lust for knowledge, it scared me, but somehow reminded me of myself.
"I don't really know, I've never been close to my parents..." I spent most of my childhood in a boarding school in England. I know that they weren't the religious type. What about you?" I asked trying to turn the conversation around.
It wasn't because it was a touchy subject or that I really cared about what he thought, I just didn't like to talk about myself, it always made me feel uncomfortable. And to be honest, it kinda crept me, all those questions. But I guess if he wasn't going to leave me, I knew better than to rudely take the door.
"I do, actually, I've seen one myself. In fact, my house was haunted when I was a kid. Ah scares the crap outta you!" He half-laughed to himself. "Imagine coming down the stairs for a midnight glass of water and falling face-to-face with a freaking ghost."
I looked down to my book. Trying to keep myself from asking, but my natural curiosity was just too strong. "Was it mean?"
He cocked his head slightly to the side and pulled his arm up to rest on the back of the couch just behind my head. I should've probably reacted to show him that even though he tried, it was still a no from me, but I didn't move, I waited for him to answer me.
"Sort of, at first it was nothing really alarming, then he became more and more..." He slightly stopped there, adding emotion to his words. "aggressive."
"What did it do?"
Shut your bloody mouth Blaire.
"At first he was toying around with stuff, your basic ghost activity. Stuff disappearing and reappearing mysteriously." I found myself turning more and more to him, interested by his story. "Then he started knocking things off, exploding lightbulbs, that kind of stuff..." He gazed into my eyes holding his words in to add into the feeling. "Then he started pushing us, throwing things at us, it was a nightmare."
"Were you scared?"
Stop talking Blaire, god damn it.
"A little, my brother was the most scared of all of us." He shrugged, oh yeah, though guy you know. "But don't you wanna know what we did?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink slowly, never breaking eye contact with me.
"What did you do?" The words flew out of my mouth and he grinned, content of himself.
He scanned the room quickly and leaned in closer to me, his eyes bore deeply into mine and my heart fluttered when his other hand came resting millimetres away from my thigh, I could feel the warmth of his skin and the coldness of his beverage. His hot breath grazed against my cheek as he whispered in my ear, as if telling me one of the world's many secrets.
"We chased it."
The word sent a shiver running down my spine, or maybe it was just his closeness. "Chased?" I repeated. Was I deliberately flirting with him?
"Hunted" He replied now facing me, his lips centimetres away from mine. Perfection created by god.
No.
"Tracked" He added slowly leaning in.
This is not right Blaire, you're not that kind of girl.
"Killed" He breathed out, almost inaudible.
Whatever.
His lips finally reached mines, at first tempting, then daring. They moved against mine with assurance, expertise. Of course I should've known that he had kissed numbers of women before, but somehow I didn't really care. I had always been a good girl, being bad one night wouldn't hurt anyone would it?
His hand crawled up my thigh to my hip and he drew me against him, against his chest, what he did he do with his beer? No idea, but thank god the couch faced a window and not the rest of the pub. My hands moved instantly up to the back of his neck where my fingers easily found his dark blond hair and my book slid to the floor in a quiet thud.
His lips were soft, but hungry for my skin, they tasted like the alcohol he had drink, this intoxicating liquor which men like him loved so much, either to forget or feel alive, growing them into savage beasts or in poor melancholic animals. The steadiness of his heartbeat and the sound of my irregular one fought in my eardrums to overcome the lascivious music all around us.
Heat, it was consuming us as he became hungrier and hungrier and I wasn't doing anything to stop him. Being bad feels good after all, way too good.
His hands reached for my legs and he put them each side of him as he lowered us on the couch.
So wrong, but so right they say? Heck I was snagging with a total stranger.
His lips left mines leaving them feeling empty and trailed down my neck into a path of burning kisses.
I opened my eyes, fixing, in the dark, the ceiling above us and let my mind wander. I met him like what? Five minutes ago? I felt like a teenager again, as if I wanted to make my parents angry, rebel against them for trying to mould me into a perfect little girl. I felt like my hormones were raging inside of me, like all that I wanted was to have sex, right there and right then. I mean, that guy was sooo hot, and really really bad. Or maybe it was just the fact that I didn't get already that adults could sleep with strangers if they wanted to. Man, being an adult is pretty cool now that I think of it, I have boobies, I can do whatever I want, I can go wherever I want and I can sleep with random dudes! Fantastic really!
Or maybe it was just the champagne kicking in, whatever it was it made the stranger's lips ever more hypnotizing. Maybe I should ask his name though.
"I guess it's something harsh at first... then kind of soft, sweet." I whispered as he came up to look me in the eyes, brows furrowed ever so slightly. " Something like, David or.. Dean, maybe Cameron?"
Damn he's hot.
"The crazy geniuses, they're the best kind." He breathed out in his low voice of his as his lips came crashing down again.
"So?" I demanded between two harassments of his blissful mouth.
"Dean." He answered, but before he could lower himself again I saw something from the corner of my eyes.
"Well Dean, there's someone here for you." I quickly glanced at the tall man standing close to the couch, clearly annoyed.
My lovely stranger quickly looked at him then back at me, smirking with a hint of regret as we sat up straight.
We both got up to our feet and I picked my book up buttoning the buttons of my shirt that I had no idea had been opened.
"Well that was fun, see you around, Dean." I winked at him before turning on my heels and walking for the door.
"What the hell dude, I've been looking for you all night long!" I heard the tall guy say.
"I needed fresh hair okay?" Came Dean's sharp reply. "You blew up my chances with that hot girl, I'm really pissed now sam, you owe me breakfast." He accused the other guy and I laughed to myself.
Boys will be boys I guess?
Hey There :) I'm Hell-Later-On, I'm sort of new to the SPN fandom, I started maybe 3 months ago and I'm currently watching season 9. This FF is not really set in any particular season, but I mention some characters of the Teen Wolf world, no TW characters will have a role in this FF but they are here because some of them are into Blaire's family. No need to watch TW to understand but there might be a couple spoilers. I already have 5 chapters written but I won't upload this story on regular basis because for the moment it is pretty just a scratch but leave me a review to tell me what you think and I might carry on.
DISCLAMER: I do not own Supernatural, it's plot or it's characters, neither do I own Teen wolf, it's plot or it's character. All OCs are my creation.
Enjoy the rest of your day, XxX - Hell-Later-On
