I like this one.
Chapter Seven - Distractive
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He watched her in heightened interest, his brilliant blue eyes following the slow, fluid movements of her delicate fingers over the stone she studied. She knew he was there. She was ignoring him with all her power. For the more intense his fascination with her grew, the harder it was to pretend he was just a kid. His obnoxious and smug comments had become few and far between, and as soon as she would retort, he would fall silent. He would only stare at her, unblinking. Refusing to look away and refusing to be the little boy she so relied on as a staple of her life.
And so he did now. He reclined against the counter, slim shape still and arms crossed. His pale eyes clear and intense as he watched her work. She pressed the lens of the microscope shakily into place as his stare burned its way slowly over her pointed shoulder and down her back. She wanted to shiver; to squirm from beneath it. Forcing her mind off him she turned the dial and her microscope lit.
"Are you researching the crystal Aerrow brought you?"
Since his change he had become observant. She didn't like the intelligence. It was unnerving.
"Yeah."
His eyes were warm on her waist. Her fingers were stiff as she pulled the device to her.
"Do you know anything about it yet?"
"No. N-nothing yet."
She bit her lip. Had she really stuttered? How could this be getting to her? She swallowed and peered into the eyepieces. But her eyes refused to focus. "Finn, don't you have anything better to do?"
She was only answered by silence. Gripping the edge of the table to keep steady, she peered over her shoulder at him. His eyes were striking in the darkness of the lab. He blinked and remained still.
"Go see what Junko's doing."
"I want to watch you," he murmured softly.
"Well it's making me uncomfortable." She swallowed again, her throat dry and tight. "Get out."
Suddenly he pushed himself from his spot, striding toward her. Her heart sped up as he moved above her bent form and her muscles contracted when his hand came down on her shoulder. "Don't make me leave. I wanna watch you."
"I-" she blinked up at him, insides churning. He looked so different from this angle.
He looked like a sharpshooter.
"Don't touch me, Finn-"
"Oh. Sorry." He pulled back.
She had never felt as strong a feeling as then. Her mouth opened without her permission and almost begged for his hand to come back. The thought horrified her and her heart began to beat faster. It was as if, in that spit second, he had somehow gripped her soul and pulled a little of it painfully out of her body.
"Finn," she breathed, struggling to regain her composure and to attain that condescending bad little boy tone that she'd somehow forgotten how to find. "Go bother someone else."
"No," he replied instantly; softly.
Thank God.
"Finn," she said again, more insistently. But he wasn't listening; not even considering her angry voice. He was looking into her pupils; through her skin. She wanted him out. "Th-that's it, you're going to have to leave. I need to work here!"
His glorious orbs of eyes had shifted; flicked away from her nervous stare. False rage fizzled up in her stomach. "What are you looking at?!"
And even before she'd finished the sentence she knew he was gazing at her lips as they moved. No, he couldn't be. He wasn't.
He was.
"F-Finn, stop-"
He was moving closer.
A million bubbles of frenetic terror filled her limbs and core as he exhaled; breath warm and sweet. And while her mind screamed to turn away, to grab the microscope and swing it as his stupid blonde head, her body was anchored still. Half - turned and covered in goosebumps. It was too late now to stop him; he was four inches away, now three, now two and a half, and his mouth was half - open, she could feel her heartbeat in her throat and the blood was rushing in her ears and she was supposed to be looking at that stupid crystal and he smelled so good-
His mouth pressed against hers and her mind went blank as the sound of her pulse roared over it.
The sweet scent of his musky skin flooded her senses as she breathed and he slid an arm around her. She had never imagined his lips so smooth and soft. The bridge of his nose was cooler than hers and suddenly everything was deathly silent.
He slowly pulled back, breath flooding onto her chin and neck. Her eyes fluttered open and there were those horridly beautiful eyes; half - open and pupils burning. Her bangs fell between them and she smashed her mouth against his, twisting around and gripping his shoulders, shuddering as he wrapped both slender arms around her waist. His hair was like satin and his heart thundered against hers. Her mind was lost and all that cut through the heat were the ripples of electricity that rattled through her skin and muscle from his fingertips. She opened her mouth for more air and pulled harder, sure now that her soul was being pulled out through his hands. Something told her that this was cruelly fated; that it was somehow ridiculously, mockingly inevitable.
Had he always been like this? Was he hiding it?
Or had he changed because of her?
She only knew there was no turning back now.
And he smelled wonderful.
Started … sometime, finished March 16, 2009. This one was backed by Imogen Heap's Have You Got It In You? Actually, her music is great inspiration for odd, messy, sensual writing. She's a genius. (GO F AND P!!) So ... whatcha think?
