AN: Bad girl Sookie and good boy Eric. No warnings for this first chapter only the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or The Southern Vampire Mysteries series, any and all rights belong to the wonderful Charlene Harris.
There's a jewel in the crown
There's a rose in the weeds
I will not beg for what I want
And I will ask for what I need
If you've had a taste of silver
Then the pennies won't do
If you're craving something more
Than what's been given to you
I just want you
I just want you
I just want you (yes I do)
When you've had a taste of silver
Then the pennies won't do
If you're craving something more
Than what's been given to you
I just want you (yes I do)
I just want you, I just want you
I just want you (yes I do)
When you've had a taste of silver
Then the pennies won't do
"A Taste of Silver" – Until The Ribbon Breaks
-Sookie's POV -
The boy sat so uncomfortably on the brown plush couch, holding a protective arm around the petite blonde at his side. I couldn't help but smile at his awkwardness of his surroundings; blaring music that no one could make the words out to, lights flashing, breaking through the darkness as if they were in some kind of club, teens dancing anywhere and everywhere without a care in the world. This must be just another typical Saturday night for them.
The blonde girl was of the attractive variety, with just the right touch of make-up and perfectly curled locks like a river of molten gold trailing down her back and over her shoulders. Despite the distance between myself and the couple, I could tell her eyes were a bright crystal blue. They held a hint of annoyance, as if the boy she was with wasn't up and partying as she had wanted to be at the moment. Or, another possibility, she was disappointed with the fact that he wouldn't put out for her.
Definitely the latter.
I grinned with the pleasure of knowing how many girls here wanted to play in the mattresses. Taking a sip from my innocent Coke-filled plastic cup, I eyed up the pair again.
According to any book, movie, or law of life, that was a natural couple; preppy cheerleader dating a jock. But I could tell that this particular jock, though popular and well liked, was under the radar for doing the dirty.
I swung my legs on the swivelling bar-stool at the counter I was currently leaning my elbows on. Whoever's house the party was being thrown at was fortunate on wealth, it seemed. A large square living area with chocolate brown-cushioned couches and a glass coffee table in front of them. The floors were made of a beautiful oak with matching doors. A flat screen hung up on the wall, displaying a football game that only a few were looking at. A bar nestled in the far corner of the room, with marble counters and four, consecutive stools, all occupied at the moment. And that was only the basement.
I took another glance at the earlier couple and realised they were missing; the girl had joined a group of dancing friends and the boy had decided on getting refreshments as an excuse to escape the awkwardness.
He interested me.
Taking a red plastic cup from the stack, he fished out some punch with a ladle and poured it into the cup. Before his lips met the rim of the cup, he sniffed and scowled at the bright red liquid, dumping the contents back into the punch bowl. One of the party goers had spiked it.
I laughed, loudly enough for the boy to turn my way and purse his lips; he knew I was laughing at him. Stuffing his hands in his jeans, he hesitantly walked my way, most likely afraid his girlfriend would snap at him if she caught him talking with another woman his age.
If only they knew…
"Something funny?" he asked. He tried to keep a straight face, but I could see his mouth tug at the corners ever so slightly.
I shook my head innocently. "Nothing…it's just that I've never seen a senior refuse alcohol before. I thought it was interesting."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. Now that he was up close, I could distinctly make out his features; slightly shaggy caramel coloured hair that covered the tips of his ears, leading to a strong jawline. His high-set cheekbones held a natural splash of pale pink, making it look like he was always blushing.
He held out his had "I'm Eric, by the way. Eric Northman."
I chuckled at the formal action and shook my head. "No need to be so proper here, it's a high school party, you know that right?" I could tell I had embarrassed him when his cheeks grew slightly rosier. "You can call me Sookie."
"Sookie…" he trailed off in thought, with a troubled expression. "Do I know you? I have to say, I've never seen you around the halls before."
"Nope," I popped the 'p'. "I start Monday though. Can't wait to see you there." I added with a secretive grin.
"Really?" he asked. I was surprised by his confusion, since he should expect to be wanted, to be noticed. That is, judging by his standing on the social food chain.
"Yeah. Maybe I could make something out of you…"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" He bit his lip and knit his eyebrows together, as if trying to detect any hint of sarcasm in my tone. Fail.
I sighed. "I bet you've never smoked one cigarette in your life…never woken up with a hangover…never gotten past a kiss…never dared to step out of bounds. You feed off the fiction of a perfect world people throw at you daily. Homework on Saturdays, church on Sundays-"
"Oh!" he cut me off, looking at his watch. "That reminds me, I have Mass in the morning. Gotta go!" he waved behind his shoulder as he found his girlfriend, who gave an annoyed eye-roll and trailed behind him out the door.
I took a sip from my cup and clucked my tongue. Monday was going to be fun…the beginning of a big project was going to take place. How to Turn A Saint into a Certified Badass in Seven Easy Steps. I had one month until my due date, and then off to better places.
Watch out Eric Northman, pretty soon I'm going to be your own personal Jesus.
Who would have guessed her One Deadly Secret had anything to do with Seven Deadly Sins?
AN: Well there you have it folks. Until the next chapter.
Fenrir Vanagandr ~
