Undertaker:
His Andy had been skittish. Far too skittish for him to rest easy. For example, when ever he touched her half healed upper arm, she'd jump and whimper; a noise she'd never made before now. And she didn't talk much, Undertaker had grown used to her lilting voice and the quips that made him laugh. Had it been anyone else insulting him, they would be trying out a coffin.
So, after two weeks of such behavior, Undertaker decided to host…a tea party. Cornering her, he grabbed her, hoisting her over his shoulder unceremoniously and hauled her over to a coffin. She struggled weakly, then ceased, letting him carry her like this. He set her down on a coffin, moving over to another one on the opposite side of the small table. For once, Undertaker didn't feel like giggling. Until he found out what was troubling her, he didn't think he could truly giggle. It would be a shame too, if her brief laughs completely left her.
He pushed a beaker of tea towards her end of the table, watching intently as she reached for it. Satisfied that she had taken the glass, he dragged a corpse out of the shadows, holding it between his legs after sitting down again. Normally, he would've been more focused on the dead woman, instead, his eyes were drawn to the sad expression on Andrea's face.
"So," he started, forcing out a giggled, peering over the still brown hair of his 'toy'. "What's wrong?"
"if I'm scared," she said quietly. "and unable to defend myself," she gripped the cylinder until it cracked, sending scalding tea slopping over her hands. "then I couldn't of helped my brother. I'm weak."
Undertaker acted on his sudden urge to hold her. He threw the corpse to the side and reached out to pull her into the spot recently vacated.
"you're not too weak," he murmured. "you just need a skills touch up," he paused, thinking there was more to her fear. "what else did the demon do?" ha asked, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent; which was marred by a different, totally unpleasant smell. "did he…" Undertaker le out a true giggle, finally understanding. "lick you?"
A short nod in response. He grinned, moving his head back from her neck. This scent shouldn't be marking her. If she was to be anyone's, she would be his and not be claimed by any other fragrance. Undertaker pressed a small kiss to the beginning of the smell. She stiffened as if torn between running and staying. His lips continued up her neck, obliterating the stench, replacing it his own. Then, he pressed a light kiss on her cheek, just brushing there.
"T-Theo?" she mumbled, trembling now.
"honestly," he shook his head. "I wont hurt you. If I did…well, it'd be permanent wouldn't it?"
A breathy moan escaped her lips as if she couldn't hold it in. Undertaker chuckled, greatly intrigued with how she was reacting. And the excitement he was experiencing.
"Have you ever tried using womanly charms during a fight?" he asked softly. "not necessary with humans, but with demons…"
He gripped her chin, turning her head so that their lips were inches apart. His heart started to thud against his ribcage. This is what he had always wanted to do; dreamed of it, in fact. But, no…not like this, not now. Undertaker let his hand drop from her chin, caressing her cheek briefly before hugging her.
"try it someday," he whispered into her ear.
He'd had his fair share of women. As old as he was, it was only to be expected. A slim body that fitted snugly into his arms. Soft hair. Sweet, seductive fragrances. In the past, he'd held women, reapers and humans alike, and knew their essence. Though, their sensation, their touch, their scent never made his heart ache like this. He had never found them so enchanting like this. Undertaker squeezed her tighter till he thought she would break.
"you're beautiful, Andrea."
"No," she responded instantly. "not in wards, not outwards. Besides, no one could ever love me. No one could be happy with me."she pushed him back, standing, blinking rapidly.
"but," he whispered as she backed away, going to a corner, eyes lingering on the delicate planes of her face before she turned away. "you are," she obviously didn't hear him. "and you make me happy. If only I could convince you…"
He sighed tiredly, standing also, moving over to the counter. They needed bandages. In fact, they would both go out. Undertaker was going to become her favorite person.
Andrea:
"don't make me go," I whined half-heartedly as Undertaker grabbed me out of my corner of solitude. "my mushrooms need to be culitvat-"
He threw a black dress at me, cutting me off. A corset followed the same arc. I guess the robes were only for the shop. Undertaker actually offered to help me put them on and take the robes off, earning him a kick out the door. He giggled all the while, sparking my anger, pulling me out of my mood. Somehow, he was always good at that. But, I would change by my self, thank you.
Corsets…obviously an invention created by men to bring me even more pain. Maybe I did need him to tie it off. I got in on in the end and was able to pull on the dress. The simplicity of the black lace, satin, and silk was what made it pretty to me. Not that I was a qualified judge of dresses.
Turning my head away form the cracked mirror, I stared longingly at my mushrooms in the corner. Oh well, being with Undertaker wasn't all that bad.
