Stefan twirls a finger around one of the loose blonde curls framing her face as he listens to her delighted laughter. He lets the drained body drop to the abandoned ballroom floor.
Rebekah turns her head just slightly so he is essentially caressing her cheek. There's a glimmer in his eyes now, for she's looking at him expectantly. He raises an eyebrow and watches as she bites her lower lip.
His eyes follow the motion, getting lost in the glossy red. She moves fast, and before he knows it, they're kissing. The blood in his mouth transfers from him to her.
"You're very good at this game, you know," she whispers against his lips.
Stefan tilts his head, his eyes watching her carefully, one hand at her neck, idly playing with the string of pearls she wears. "I wasn't aware I was playing a game, darlin'."
"You pretend not to care about anything, leaving bodies in your wake, but I bet you know his name." Her eyes have shifted to the man on the floor.
She's right.
Hal Thomas is his name.
He doesn't show it, though; he can't, because the guilt would tear him apart if he let it. He can't let it.
Stefan kicks the body and pulls at her pearls. "You think I'm just playing rough?" he whispers in her ear, delighting in the moan she unsuccessfully tries to fight back.
"Yes," she hisses. "You know I'm right."
He yanks the pearls off her neck. "You're wrong," he replies in answer as they watch the white balls skitter across the dance floor.
