-:I:-
Wasted bodies
Lying oh so still
So many lovers
In need of organs
Phèdre : In Decay
Renegades
The Angel
Tricks and Treats
Two months.
Two months it had been since Soraya made it her personal mission to devour Peter Rumancek. The project that was supposed to last a week ended up lasting nine, and all because Roman had to scare him off.
Soraya couldn't be completely angry at him. After all, she had to admit she had never had to work so hard for a boys attention before. It just made every glance she caught that much more exciting.
But where Roman got her into this mess, he would soon prove to get her out of it...
Peter couldn't believe his fortune. Good or bad he couldn't decide, but on his way to his locker a familiar sound reached his ears. Blue eyes focused on the girls bathroom, the frosted glass and old oak distorting the view inside but doing nothing to keep in the pleasurable moans and sharp gasps from escaping.
He was quickly reminded of last week's surprise encounter. Peter looked around the quiet hallway, a sense of curiosity getting the better of him. What game was she playing at? He crouched down a bit and placed his ear to the glass.
"Right there. Right there! Yes! Yes! Oh god, yes!" Soraya's voice was high and breathy, riding the rising wave of orgasm. Peter felt the hardening of his cock, hand placed against the glass to give him so balance as he listened. Caught up by the thought of her, he didn't notice her embodiment turning the corner ahead of him.
The clearing of a throat broke his attention, redirecting it to the two girls watching him on the other side of the hallway.
His attention moved over them briefly, one pale and blonde in light blue in yellow and the other tan and bronze haired in black and red. His eyes settled on Soraya second, his mouth slightly opening as he looked from her to the door and back. Realizing he had the wrong girl and noticing the disproving look her friend was giving him, Peter quickly stood straight and subtly stepped away from the door. "Uh..." He looked straight ahead trying to find some reasoning but finding none. "This is...this is exactly what it looks like." He copped up knowing there wasn't a single excuse he could use.
Soraya's friend glanced over him with a taste of uncertainty while Soraya's head bobbed along in mock understanding. His face might not of flushed but his ears felt on fire...
"I'll see you after lunch, Letha." Soraya dismissed her friend. The blonde girl glanced between the two of them before continuing on her way. Peter's gaze fell to the floor in embarrassment at being caught. Seeing red toed heels enter his field of vision he looked up. One thing he was quickly learning about Soraya was that she had no concept of personal space. Leaning against the door beside him, her cross arms held a sternness her smile contradicted. "Don't look so concerned. If she's making those noises it's a good thing." Her temple gently rested on the glass, listening in before widening her grin. "Roman." She confirmed he was at least half right.
The werewolf swallowed and accidentally asked, "How do you know that?"
"Oh, I know." Came a naughty but finite tone. One arm unfolded from their crossed position, reaching out to pull out his pendant once again. He'd always loved the color red and the vibrant color on her lips and low cut tee left him unable to tear his attention away. Her multicolored eyes were focused on his chest, her warm hand brushing against his chest. He wanted to step away and continue walking, to put as much distance as her could between them, but instead of asking her to stop, his tongue formed a question of it's own. "What are you two?"
Peter's brow was gently furrowed, as he observed her reaction. The fact her fingers had released his necklace and now gently laid on his skin, didn't go unnoticed by him. Looking up through her long lashes, she smirked. "Jealous?"
Yes, he desperate wanted to confess. The coy touches, the teasing glances, the friendly hello's, she had wormed her way into his brain and she. would not. stop!
Soraya gave a little shrug, index gently beginning to rub against the ball of his collar bone. "I'm a girl with needs and wants. He's a boy with needs and wants." She removed her hand from his person, Peter missing the warmth of it. "Sometimes we satisfy those needs and wants together."The moans continued, the shuttering of stall doors joining them. Peter and Soraya both looked towards the door, Peter's eyebrows jumping in surprise at the long feminine moan that was fallowed by a series of near bark. God, the girl sounded like a yippy poodle...
"But that hasn't happened in some time, turns out something new's caught my eye." Peter's mouth was dry as he met her predatory gaze once more. It was nearly as frightening as it was arousing. "Join me for lunch?" Soraya offered. She taped at the glass, hinting to what lay behind it."My usual company is otherwise occupied."
Peter knew he should have said no, offered a halfassed rain check and walked away. Peter wasn't known for making the safest choices.
A single nod sealed his fate.
Peter had grown used to being stared at by the rest of the students. Their hushed whispers, their accusing stares, trepidations body language...It was quickly loosing it's effect on him. But the attention he got sitting with Soraya Harman was something completely unexpected.
Sat on a hill overlooking the front school yard, he couldn't help but feel their eyes crawling over them. Jesus Christ, how the hell did she live like this?
The small pizza she had had delivered sat between them. An even more unhealthy, yet delicious, alternative to his usual vending machine lunch. Sitting back against the tree they situated themselves under, he tried to focus his attention on Soraya rather than her observers.
"You're not from here, are you?" Peter was the first to break the silence, unscrewing the bottle of pop he held.
Soraya cleaned her mouth of grease before answering. "What gave it away? My straight teeth? My clean lugs? My un-inbreed blood line?" Peter choked a laugh at the last one, wiping his mouth from the soda that had escaped. "I'm from Manhattan." She offered him a napkin he grateful took.
"New York City?" Peter whistled. "What's a pretty city girl like you doing in a little town like this?"
"My parents died."
Peter's charming grin dropped to a guilty and uncomfortable frown. Fucking hell. "Sorry." He looked down at his lap before glancing back at her. she seemed unperturbed. "Accident?"
"Nah. More like a do-in your spouse then do it yourself kinda thing." She tossed her crust in the box. Her ended appetite was the only sign of her not being thrilled with the topic.
"Shit."
"Yeah." Soraya took a swig from her own soda, continuing to look out at her crowd from behind her sunglasses. "I was on my way to this school in Seattle when I stopped here for a couple days. Met Roman and Shelly and they asked me to stay." She shrugged."Year later, here I am." She leaned back on her her elbows beside him, closing more and more space between them. Her sunglasses were pushed up as a headband and her desperate need to change the conversation turned her tone somewhat commanding. "Where the fuck are you from exactly?"
But Peter didn't take it personally. Leaning back like that with her head resting not far from his lap, her torso was stretched, her low cut top showing the top curves of her breasts. Peter quickly looked back to the grass before smiling mysteriously. "Little bit of everywhere."
Soraya gave a curious hum, letting herself drop her head onto Peter's crossed lap. Her eyes closed as she requested he tell her a story. When he remained frozen she turned her head towards him, and further into his lap. Blood rushed to his lap as her warm breath against his crotch elicited just the reaction she was looking for. Her coy question of "what?" didn't match well with the teasing glimmer in her eyes.
Peter had had enough. "Why are you doing this?"
Sensing his genuine discomfort, Soraya feared she had pushed him too far, too fast. "Doing what?" The little pinch between her furrowed brows was genuine.
"Talking to me. Aren't you afraid I'm going to turn into a wolf and tear you to little shreds?" His sarcasm was layered a little too thickly.
"Nope."
"Still doesn't answer why you're talking to me."
She sat up quicker then he expected, turning on her hip she closed the distance between them, face waiting just inches from his as her one hand rest on the ground for support and the other rested high on his thigh. Her usual pin straight hair had been curled into soft ringlets that day. A few of the shorter ones framed her face, tickling her parted red painted lips.
Peter could swear on Nicolae's soul the world around them froze for just a moment. Everything other than her faded into silence as a blunt question came from her lips. "Do you wanna fuck me, Peter?" Her blue-green eyes burned into his, baring him to try and lie. He didn't say yes, but he certainly wasn't saying no. Her lips curled into their signature smirk, her manicured hands slowly but noticeably running higher up his thigh until she felt it. Peter's eyes went somewhat glazed as it twitch under the light grab she gave it. His sharp intake of breath covered by her honey like voice. "I'm talking to you and befriending you because you have the eyes of a scared puppy and apparently coming right out and asking someone to fuck is a socially frown upon act. There, now it's out on the table."
"So again, I'll ask you: do you wanna fuck me?"
It wouldn't be until months later that Peter learned from eyewitness's that in fact he was the one to initiate the kiss.
All he could recall was one moment he was noticing the yellow in her eyes, the next his back was on the ground and Soraya's body rested over his. His hands tangled in her hair, felling the silky tresses that always captivated his attention as his mouth tried to keep up with hers. Peter was surprised to learn that for all her brashness and confidence, Soraya was a gentle kisser. Her plush lips were soft against his own, always the first to back away to make him give chase. She enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was hooked on her already. Anytime her lips moved more than a hair away from his, his head lifted up to follow. He wasn't quite ready for this dream to end...
One hand managed to free itself from her hair long enough to run down the curve of her back. He was rewarded by a slow thrust of her hips against his.
Only the shrill ringing of the bell broke them apart.
Soraya sat up, grinning as the eager puppy raised up with her. The distress in those blue orbs as she pressed a finger to his equally bruised lips, thrilled her. She had him hooked. And soon it would be time to reel him in...
His hand reached for her, silently begging her to stay as she got off him without a spare glance. Collecting her bag, Soraya smoothed her hair back before turning to ask him one last question. "Are you going to the dance tonight?"
Peter's lust ridden mind stalled, prompting her to say his name. Awe, shit. Was this one of those trick girl questions? Not knowing what she expected of him, he redirected the question back to her. "Are you?"
Her face scrunched in distaste. The older student body grinding, the freshmen class trying to hold hands, the chaperones killing any fun. It was a waste of her time... "Oh god no."
Peters face relaxed in relief. "No."
A wicked smile graced her features, a plan forming in her mind. "Good to know."
Breathing heavily and willing away his erection with the most disgusting of thoughts, Peter could only find one thing to say as she disappeared back into the moving crowd. "What the fuck just happened?"
Roman seemed intent on ruining her high. Having just popped an Oxy, Soraya washed it down with what was left of her tea. Roman, in a rare instance, managed to surprise her. As she choked slightly on the beverage, Roman leaned against the lockers besides her own, long fingers running over the metal edge as he stared intently at her. There was a sense of mischief in his eyes and she wanted in.
"What?" She cleared her throat.
Roman glanced around the hall casually. "Do you still have the key to the snake cage?" As a rare fellow snake owner, Soraya had volunteered to take the senior class's pet snake home every fourth weekend. It was her one redeeming quality in the eyes of their teachers...
"The one in the biology hallway? It's lying around my drawers somewhere."
"I need it."
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
Soraya stopped her locker rummaging and tisked, pinching his sharp cheek. "Oh, I forget how snappy you get when you don't get what you want." She babied him. "It's so cute!" Roman gently slapped her hand away, rolling his eyes.
"Do you have it or not?" His voice was bordering on terse. His tone made Soraya close her locker with added force, a perfectly sculpted brow arching in suspect.
"You can have it. For a price...I have a surprise planned tonight." Soraya gently directed his chin to turn with her finger. "And you're going to help me..."
Roman's eyes focused in on the sight of his sister and the gypsy boy down the hall. A heavy exhale escaping his nose as he resigned himself to playing her game. "What do you want me to do?"
Roman did good. "Very good." She took the piece of paper from his hand as she stepped out of the shower. Roman was already dressed to take Letha to the dance. His hair combed back, his leather loafers shined and his suit pressed, all that was missing was his black bow tie.
He watched her through the mirror with curious green eyes. Observing how she folded it carefully before tossing it to her counter. Towel dropping, she pressed her bare body to his suited one, her arms wrapping around him. "What kind of costume is this?" She pulled on on of the lapels. This wouldn't do for the Halloween homecoming at all.
"The only costume I'm ever wearing." He scoffed.
Raising onto her tiptoes, she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Hmm, if I didn't have plans." She mumbled against his neck. There was something about an expensive suit that fired her up.
Roman's eyes narrowed, frustration taking over as she pushed her fingers between his and tied it for him. Bracing his arms on the sink he sneered. "Why can't you go to this stupid thing?"
"I told you. I have plans. Gypsy boy is under my spell only for as long as you don't scare him off. I have to strike while I can. Besides-" She pushed off him, letting him begrudgingly admire the perfect bow. "Shelley dragged me to that memorial. It's your turn to play babysitter."
"Is that what your going as? Slutty babysitter?" He snipped back, watching her pull on the La Perla lingerie. Soraya threw her back in laughter, Roman following her into her large closet.
"Nah, I'm going the other direction, 'Coy sweetheart'." She plucked a rarely used sweater top from the back. The curved cropped stomach, long sleeves, and low V neck would pair nicely with a tight lace cami and some jeans. Holding up the cami and sweater she asked him to rank on a scale of one to ten how hard it would make him.
"Six."
"Liar. Eight." She threw the hanger at his stomach. Pulling on her outfit, she grabbed a pair of heals on her way past him. Once more, Roman followed.
"I still don't like this."
"I still don't care." Soraya began a light coat of make up. He made it hard to concentrate on her wingtips when he stood over her like that. A finger curled through a drying tendril, his nose burying itself in them. He missed the smell of her lately. With Letha pulling her away to go shopping, Shelly begging her to take her to school activities, adn Peter stealing her attention, Roman was beginning to feel neglected in the worst of ways.
And when Roman felt he was being forgotten, he liked to make his presence known.
When she turned her head to deflect his lips, his face fell. Grabbing the key left on the dresser, he stormed out. "Roman." Soraya called after him, her happy mood souring as he flipped her off.
He could be such a fucking child sometimes...
But Roman wouldn't derail her plan.
An hour later, leaves crunched under her heeled feet. Closing the car door softly behind her, she observed the little junkyard they seemed to be living in.
"Charming." She huffed on her way down the unlit stairs that connected the roadway with their home.
The glow of the TV could be seen inside, and with his mothers car gone, she had the feeling she'd be able to skip the dinner offer and go straight to desert.
Soraya's fist hesitated before rapping quickly on the dingy door frame. She wished she had a camera to capture the look on his face when he opened the door. His jaw fell, his eyes widened, his feet shuffled.
An eight indeed.
She grinned. "Trick or treat."
"Huj-You-What are you doing here?" His nervousness just kept her smiling. "How did you know where I live?"
"Where else would a homicide werewolf live but a powder blue trailer in the woods?" She shrugged.
On his home turf and away from the masses, Peter seemed to have more confidence. "Hey now, this is clearly periwinkle."
Soraya hummed in faux thought before shaking her head. "No, that's a purple. But say periwinkle again…" She winked.
Biting his lip, Peter tried to stop his own smile as he stepped aside. "Do you...wanna come inside?"
"Pleasure to."
Clean. It was small, and retro, and sparsely decorated but the one thing she cared about was that it was clean. Peter offered her something to drink as he nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. He wasn't a nervous person by nature but fuck if Soraya Harmon didn't make his heart hammer and his palms sweat.
"Beer's fine." She accepted his offer.
"So when you asked me about the dance earlier..." His head tilted in question.
"Caught me." She smirked. "I just wanted to know if I could get you alone."
"Alone for what?" He took a seat on the couch while she continued to stand.
"What do you think?" She was done playing coy. untying the black raincoat, she let it slip down her shoulders as Peter choked. Her eye brow raised as she folded it over her arm and placed it on the chair.
Okay, maybe she wasn't done teasing yet...
He seemed both relieved and disappointed that she was still wearing clothes.
"Where are you parents?"
"Dad's gone forever, mom's gone for a few errands." The new information made Soraya stop looking at their trinkets and turn her full attention back to him. Picking at his beer bottle label, he tried to recollect himself. "Should you be here? I mean what with me being an apparent murderer and all?"
"I like to make friends with the biggest kids on the playground."
"You wanna be my friend?" He scoffed a laugh.
"No. We already went over what I want." She stood before him, knocking his knees apart with her shins. Peter sat straight before her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back. Crawling over his lap, she gently touched his face.
"Why are you so scared of me?" She whispered against his suddenly dry feeling lips.
"I'm not." Nervous? Yes. Scared? No.
"So you'd be okay if I did this?" She closed the distance between their mouths, a gentle kiss to just test the waters. "Good?"
"Great." He pulled her back to him, allowing them to resume the kiss they shared earlier that day.
Those two months? Worth it.
Hands slipping under his shirt, Soraya was intrigued to find a pleasant trail of hair over his lower stomach. Ever the gentleman, he was tentative in furthering his hands' explorations. Slowly and cautiously he slipped the calloused fingers under her shirt moving higher only when she moaned into his mouth. If there was a clear sign of her wanting to further things it was when she unbuckled his belt and jeans, and pulled his half hard cock out. Peter hissed, burying his lightly bearded face in her shoulder as her hand brought him to his full length. Eye glancing around the room, she saw no real option of anywhere they could really play.
"Bedroom?" Soraya bite at his ear lob, a deep moan resonating in his chest before he stood up. Hands matched hands in their eagerness to remove clothes, their melded lips and unfocused eyes causing them to hit a chair or two as he directed her to it. It was small, as small as her fucking closet but the long double bed that took up most of the room would do. Closing the door behind them, Peter took a moment to gaze at the girl shedding her clothes before him.
He wasn't a virgin. Not for quite some time now. But the sight of her standing naked from the waste up before him with that, by now signature, predatory look made his ears redden.
"I know I'm fucking gorgeous but it's common courtesy when one party takes their clothes off, so does the other." She whispered that last part as she unbuttoned his was doing it again: twist his gut and making his head spin.
And a clear head was what he needed right now. Clutching her wrists firmly, he didn't let up until she looked at him. Really looked at him. He wanted something. Even he didn't know what, but it-he-he just wanted it. And in a very rare instance, Peter got what he wanted.
Her mask slipped, just briefly, but long enough for him to see that sparkle. That's what he'd craved. To know she was vulnerable, that she was real. And as quickly as he found it it dissipated. Mask put back in place, she kissed him once more, starting up their game once again.
Peter Rumancek was a very hirsute man, Soraya came to learn. the dark dusting of hair over his chest was nice to run her fingers through, ticking her lips as she placed butterfly soft kisses against the flesh while Peter ungracefully removed the rest of his clothing.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her heels, and allowed Peter to pulled the jeans from her legs. Laying her back, his mouth descended upon her lower belly and thighs, only breaking away to answer her question of where to find the condoms. Digging into his nightstand at an awkward angle, Soraya nearly dropped the foil package when his hot tongue flicked against her clit. "Oh, what a talented tongue you have." She moaned, handing him the packet.
"The better to eat you with." He smirked.
There was a moment of pure, belly shaking laughter from her as he played along. The retort unexpected but oh so fitting.
Protection in place, Soraya opened her legs to let him slide through. Peter gave a happy little grin, making Soraya bite her lip to keep from smiling as well, before he kissed her. He gently touched her face. The skin felt soft skin under his fingertips from the curve to her cheek down to the hallow of her throat. A small sigh escaping before a long moan as he entered her.
Peter Rumancek may have been a gentleman on the couch, but in the bed he was a fucking animal. His thrusts alternated between slow and shallow and fast and deep, hips raising up to hit her at just the right angle.
Fuck. This was not what she was prepared for...
How the fuck he gained the upper hand she'll never know, but one minute she was coaxing him to kiss her and the next she was begging him keep going. She had severely underestimated his talents.
Peters hand never stopped exploring. While one was firmly planted to give him support, the other was testing every part of her he could reach, cataloging her reaction in his mind. The way she gasped as he tugged at her nipple, her breathy laugh when he stroked the underside of her breasts or her side, the sharp moan she gave then he rubbed eights over her clit: every bit of it, memorized for future use.
If this was a one time thing he wanted to find out every reaction she had. To do so, he needed more access to her skin. Peter rolled them over with ease. Her hands grasping at wide curves of her hips to keep her with him. Soraya's hands braced against the middle of his abdomen, fingertips swirling in the dark hair on him as she set a fast pace for them. He had her on the brink and after two months of waiting she was going to get what she came for.
"Fuck!" She shouted into the air, head craning back as the warmth in her lower belly turned into a muscle melting fire. Soraya's arms shook and her thighs trembled as he coaxed a longer orgasm out of her. Peter's hands re-situated themselves on the curve of her ass and her hip, leading the stunned girl back into rhythm until he felt his own orgasm overcome him.
It was hard, and fast, and oh so satisfying...
Unable to hold herself up any longer, Soraya fell back to Peter's chest. The sweat on their chests well earned. For the next three minutes they just laid there until Peter got up to throw the condom into the waste basket.
Rejoining her in bed, she was quick to sit on her once more. Peter didn't mind at all. His eyes traveled up her form, from the flare of her hips to the moles on her shoulders. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful but she probably got that all the time. So instead he broke the content silence with question that had been nagging at him since the other day. Now knowing how to phrase it without giving to much away he settled with, "What's different about you?"
"Nothing. A healthy and well earned sex glow...but that can't possibly be the reason for the frown on your face." She took notice of the down turned corners of his lips.
"You know what I mean."
"No. I don't."
"Roman can make people do what he wants. And you.."
"And me?" There was a twitch in her pinky. It was a tell-tale sign she was nervous or craving, that Roman or Shelley would have picked up on in an instant. Thankfully Peter didn't catch it.
"You touched the beaker in Chemistry the other day. Barehanded you just picked it up and moved it." Her eyes glazed a bit, her smile seeming forced now as he continued to pressure her. "The water inside it was boiling...why didn't you feel it?"
Well fuck me slowly with a chainsaw. Soraya hummed in thought, quickly bouncing back. "I'll answer one of your if you answer one of mine."
"Kay."
"You smoke?" He nodded. "Lighter?" Peter lifted is upper body and dug through the drawer of the tiny nightstand. Pulling out the silver zippo he hesitantly handed it to her. Staring at the lighter she rolled it over in her hand in contemplation. Peter sat up, fully his hands planted on the bed behind him for support as he was transfixed. "Don't freak out." She warned. Peter nodded, eyes unable to decide where they wanted to be: her face or the flame. It happened slowly, like watching a car crash. Her tongue licked her bruised lips before being stuck through the air, the flame quickly being brought under it.
"Stop!" Peter's hand sliced through the air, fingers gently yet firmly grabbing her wrist. She didn't even flinch. Peter's pupils blew wide as her tongue was pulled back into her mouth, the flame being moved slowly over her cheek, her eye, and finally a hanging tendril of hair.
Nothing.
His mind trying to catch up, he released her wrist in order to test the flame himself. With a hiss, he pulled back his burnt fingers as she snapped the lighter closed. Smothering a chortle, she gentle brought the finger to her mouth. Soothing it with her tongue and a gentle suckling. This time, the hardening against her thigh wasn't planned. Placing a gentle kiss to it, she let go of his hand which then returned to her thigh.
Peter's mouth opened for a new slew of questions but Soraya quickly changed the topic per their agreement.
Fingers dancing along the curves of the styled 'g' tattooed on his side, she pushed him back down. "What's it stand for? Gypsy?" She only half joked.
"Close. Garjo. It means outsider." One hand danced over the skin of her thigh while the other rested casually behind his head. Peter smiled thinly as he stared at a freckle above her knee, circling it over and over again until she grabbed his hand and moved it higher up her leg.
"Garjo." She tested the word. "Hmm. So you speak another language. Do you ever get so into a good fuck you just slip into it?" Soraya's nails lightly scrapped down his chest till they skimmed the base of his cock.
"Lets see!" Sitting up sharply, he knocked her back to the bed. S, Soraya laughign as he attacked her neck and chest with new feverency. Hands running though his hair, she moaned as his stubbled mouth brushed against her pert nipple before eloping it in his hot mouth. What a talented tongue indeed...
Back arching, she was eager for more, his fingers dancing across her wet lower lips before gently thrusting into her. Curling against her inner walls, it sent a filling thrill through her. Eyes closed, and mouth opened, a moan built in her throat before he suddenly raised his head and went still.
Thack.
The door of the trailer closed. Shuffling occurring in the kitchen before a female voice rang out. "Peter! I brought dinner!"
The cursed together, Peter's head falling back to her chest with a light thunk. Not even her naked body and panting breath was enough to keep is hard as his mother voice rang through the trailer, rambling about the struggle she went though finding a Chinese restaurant that served Mongolian Beef in this town.
Rolling off her, Peter ran his hands over his face, dick completely limp as Soraya got up and dressed.
He followed suit and quickly shuffling on his discarded pairs of jeans. Before he could even talk to her, Soraya was dressed and opening the door, Peter having no choice but to rush out behind her as he zipped his fly.
He stopped just short of toppling her when she stopped before the tiny hallway. His mother and her seemed to be locked in a stare off, Peter quickly trying to smooth things over as Soraya smirked and his mother's brows furrowed. "Uh, Lynda, this is Soraya. Soraya this is my mom Lynda."
"Pleasure." Soraya smiled. Turning sharply to Peter she kissed him. "I'll be leaving." She stroked a hand down his chest, a familiar move to him now.
Except this time there was one small change. He linked his hand with hers, pulling her back. "No. You can stay." He looked towards his mother expectantly. He wasn't quite ready for her to leave yet, nor did he want her to feel pressured to go. Peter stared at his mother pointedly until she got the hint.
Lynda smiled, though not completely sincere, and quickly corrected her manners. "Yes. Of course. I'm sure there's plenty here for three."
"No. I mean I want to go." Soraya firmly corrected him. With a sweet grin she caressed his scruffed cheek and departed on the advise he should make good choices.
As the creaking screen door closed behind her, Peter was left alone with his mother.
A silence fell over them. Lynda continued to set the small table and Peter stared at the closed door. "So...she's pretty." Lynda looked up only to find her son gone. "A pretty pretty problem." Lynda quietly sang to herself.
In his room, Peter pulled on a shirt and tied up the mess. Picking up the rest of the discarded clothing he recognized a distinct purple sweater. Picking up the soft cotton shirt he sat on his bed. Thumbs running back and forth over the smooth fabric, he couldn't help but picture her vividly.
Without a doubt, Soraya Harman had her hooks in him.
Peter knew it. He also liked it.
Please Review :)
Pip, you finally got your Seter time! Hope it lived up. :)
Thanks to the lovely reviewers and alerters and favors!
As a quick side note: I've been getting some very rude and impatient messages. I know (/deeply hoping) they just happen to come across that way and aren't intentional but please check your message before you send it. I'm all for curiosity and questions but when people are rude and feel entitled to a story, it sets my teeth on fire. :) Love you all and remember your manners (most of the time)!
