Bloodred Senseless- Chapter 1: Vampire
The bartender came and took away her empty martini glass. He glanced at her face, wondering if she wished to have something else. "Vampire," she said, staring him in the eye and willing him to tell her she had drunk too much. Sydney looked around as she waited for her fourth drink. No one seemed worthy of a one night stand at this point in time. Everyone she looked upon was gyrating to the music with someone else. She had half a mind to go up to a guy in a tight navy shirt and kiss him senseless, asking with her eyes who he wanted to spend the night with as she trailed her fingers across his chest.
Her drink arrived, the blood red liquid sliding down her throat a matter of seconds later. Her messy updo lost a strand of hair—it came and brushed her neck, making her tingle. She brushed it away, flicking the strap of her halter top in the process. Her breasts were showing in the v between the two straps. She almost had not worn the top for that reason and the fact that it ended above her navel, but it no longer bothered her after three and a half drinks. The tight leather pants stretched across her muscular legs she had forgotten about after her first drink. They just barely revealed the minute word nice tattooed on her lower back—a word the world thought of as an adjective but she and one other person thought of as a place in France where anything goes.
Finally, Sydney's roaming eyes landed on a man standing a few feet away. He was alone, which she took to be a good sign. He could be here for the same reason as her, or he could be meeting someone. Well, that wasn't her problem. She watched him scan the crowd has she had done.
From two yards away, the man caught her gaze. She looked back steadily, never one to become embarassed easily. He stood—he looked to be six feet tall—and started making his way towards her. Sydney could see that his brownish eyes and hair set off rugged features as he came more into focus.
"Up for a game of pool?" So tall-dark-and-handsome spoke. She noticed the pool cues in his hand for the first time. He must be between games, she figured. There was only one answer to his question, and it was a good answer.
Sydney replied, eyes looking up through dark eyelashes with a heavily flirty tone. "Only if you are." She swirled her vampire with her right hand—which, luckily, had only a little left or would have all spilled. The heat of the club's atmosphere was causing her to perspire. Beads of sweat slid between her breasts. The man's eyes were definitely not still on her face.
He looked back at her eyes and handed her a cue, keeping his hand over hers a bit too long. She downed the rest of her drink and put the glass back a little too hard. She stood up and hooked her arm through his, not wanting to lose the catch of the night (nor—reminded something deep inside her—did she want to lose her balance). He led her to the furthest pool table, one shrouded in darkness and set in a surprisingly empty corner.
The rest of the clubgoers seemed miles away as Sydney watched him set up. He seemed to be taking an extra long time. Every so often he would look up at her, as if to make sure she didn't leave. Don't worry, she felt like saying every time she returned his glance with a sultry smile. I'm not going to leave you tonight. After that—watch out.
"You first, or me, Sydney?"
A flash of almost-alarm crossed her face before she sidled up to him and placed a hand on his arm, saying, "And exactly how do you know my name?"
"I've asked around," he replied simply. Before Sydney could wonder who he asked, he added. "I'm Michael."
Real alarm this time. She didn't know if she would be able to stand sleeping with a Michael without moaning a different name. "You first," she said, forcing herself to stop thinking of that night. Michael started walking past her to get in position, but she accosted him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him against her so she could plant her mouth on his. After a few seconds of uncontrollable passion, she said, "Go ahead." He gave her a smile and started his turn.
Immediately, everything that had forced her to come to club in the first place was pushed to the back of her mind. She forgot Sloane's confession, Francie's worries, Will's joy, and her own sadness. She forgot what had happened hours before. She forgot breaking up with him.
-
Vaughn watched from across the club as Sydney leaned on the edge of a pool table, cue in hand. With a few too many drinks in her, Sydney didn't seem in the proper state to do anything. But she had shouted at him less than three hours previous for not treating her like an adult. And though she did that every few weeks, she was no less serious about it this time. It was time to let her make her own decisions. Turning back to her one last time—no doubt wondering if that man could have been he—Vaughn pushed the door open and stepped out.
-
this is assuming s/v did stay at the inn that night, but everything else still happened. imagine they were having breakfast when kane's agents showed up. imagine weiss won't imagine what they did, lol. you can.
The bartender came and took away her empty martini glass. He glanced at her face, wondering if she wished to have something else. "Vampire," she said, staring him in the eye and willing him to tell her she had drunk too much. Sydney looked around as she waited for her fourth drink. No one seemed worthy of a one night stand at this point in time. Everyone she looked upon was gyrating to the music with someone else. She had half a mind to go up to a guy in a tight navy shirt and kiss him senseless, asking with her eyes who he wanted to spend the night with as she trailed her fingers across his chest.
Her drink arrived, the blood red liquid sliding down her throat a matter of seconds later. Her messy updo lost a strand of hair—it came and brushed her neck, making her tingle. She brushed it away, flicking the strap of her halter top in the process. Her breasts were showing in the v between the two straps. She almost had not worn the top for that reason and the fact that it ended above her navel, but it no longer bothered her after three and a half drinks. The tight leather pants stretched across her muscular legs she had forgotten about after her first drink. They just barely revealed the minute word nice tattooed on her lower back—a word the world thought of as an adjective but she and one other person thought of as a place in France where anything goes.
Finally, Sydney's roaming eyes landed on a man standing a few feet away. He was alone, which she took to be a good sign. He could be here for the same reason as her, or he could be meeting someone. Well, that wasn't her problem. She watched him scan the crowd has she had done.
From two yards away, the man caught her gaze. She looked back steadily, never one to become embarassed easily. He stood—he looked to be six feet tall—and started making his way towards her. Sydney could see that his brownish eyes and hair set off rugged features as he came more into focus.
"Up for a game of pool?" So tall-dark-and-handsome spoke. She noticed the pool cues in his hand for the first time. He must be between games, she figured. There was only one answer to his question, and it was a good answer.
Sydney replied, eyes looking up through dark eyelashes with a heavily flirty tone. "Only if you are." She swirled her vampire with her right hand—which, luckily, had only a little left or would have all spilled. The heat of the club's atmosphere was causing her to perspire. Beads of sweat slid between her breasts. The man's eyes were definitely not still on her face.
He looked back at her eyes and handed her a cue, keeping his hand over hers a bit too long. She downed the rest of her drink and put the glass back a little too hard. She stood up and hooked her arm through his, not wanting to lose the catch of the night (nor—reminded something deep inside her—did she want to lose her balance). He led her to the furthest pool table, one shrouded in darkness and set in a surprisingly empty corner.
The rest of the clubgoers seemed miles away as Sydney watched him set up. He seemed to be taking an extra long time. Every so often he would look up at her, as if to make sure she didn't leave. Don't worry, she felt like saying every time she returned his glance with a sultry smile. I'm not going to leave you tonight. After that—watch out.
"You first, or me, Sydney?"
A flash of almost-alarm crossed her face before she sidled up to him and placed a hand on his arm, saying, "And exactly how do you know my name?"
"I've asked around," he replied simply. Before Sydney could wonder who he asked, he added. "I'm Michael."
Real alarm this time. She didn't know if she would be able to stand sleeping with a Michael without moaning a different name. "You first," she said, forcing herself to stop thinking of that night. Michael started walking past her to get in position, but she accosted him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him against her so she could plant her mouth on his. After a few seconds of uncontrollable passion, she said, "Go ahead." He gave her a smile and started his turn.
Immediately, everything that had forced her to come to club in the first place was pushed to the back of her mind. She forgot Sloane's confession, Francie's worries, Will's joy, and her own sadness. She forgot what had happened hours before. She forgot breaking up with him.
-
Vaughn watched from across the club as Sydney leaned on the edge of a pool table, cue in hand. With a few too many drinks in her, Sydney didn't seem in the proper state to do anything. But she had shouted at him less than three hours previous for not treating her like an adult. And though she did that every few weeks, she was no less serious about it this time. It was time to let her make her own decisions. Turning back to her one last time—no doubt wondering if that man could have been he—Vaughn pushed the door open and stepped out.
-
this is assuming s/v did stay at the inn that night, but everything else still happened. imagine they were having breakfast when kane's agents showed up. imagine weiss won't imagine what they did, lol. you can.