Bring Me To Life
Always Darkest Before the Dawn:
"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." – Maya Angelou
There was a serenity to sitting alone in the dark, surrounded by the illuminating glow of candlelight Imogen found as she curled up on one end of the couch in her living room. Her back was resting against the arm of the couch as she brought her knees up to her chest with a blanket thrown over her lap and she absently watched Casablanca play on the television as she nursed a large glass of red wine after a long hard day. The sound was nearly muted but she had seen the movie enough times to know it word for word and she was enjoying the mundane activity after such a stressful twenty-four hours.
Imogen breathed out heavily as she lifted her half empty glass to her lips, pausing momentarily before taking a leisurely sip and savouring the taste as she tilted her head back with her eyes closed.
It had only been an hour since she had said goodbye to her sister outside The Lycée but the ache in her heart was painful enough that all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry for the next month. They spent at least twenty minutes locked in a tight embrace, neither of them eager to part ways and it wasn't until Genevieve loudly cleared her throat impatiently that they separated.
Saying goodbye to Davina at the gate of the City of the Dead was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do in her life and she couldn't help but wonder if she was making the right decision leaving her there.
After their brutal parting, Marcel offered to accompany her back to her apartment so that she wasn't alone but she denied his offer and decided that a night time stroll in the gentle breeze would be beneficial to clear her mind. The doubt plagued her thoughts constantly on the way back to her apartment building, but she told herself that it was for the best, that Davina would be happier in the long run and this pain wouldn't be for nothing.
Moments after she arrived home from taking the long way home there was a furious knocking on the front door before it had swung open to reveal Marcel standing on the other side and it took her a moment of standing in front of him, gaping in shock before she asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.
The former king was paler than she had ever seen him, his dark eyes glazed over in panic as he stumbled into the apartment without a word and he finally meet her questioning gaze as he mumbled that he confronted the Original brothers but his only punishment was a banishment from the French Quarter issued from Elijah, not Klaus.
They were both shocked by the turn of events, but they knew that it was one of the better outcomes that they could've hoped for and it was one that they were glad to pay if it meant Marcel keeping his life. They had shared a glass of wine, speaking in low tones about what they were going to do now before Marcel had decided to call it a night and he graced her with a kiss on the cheek as he left to go to one of the properties he owned across the river.
A knock on the front door to her apartment broke her out of her introspective mood, her head snapping up in suspicion as a confused frown marred her lips and she quickly stood up from the couch as she placed her wine glass on the coffee table.
"Marcel, I saw you an hour ago! I swear, I'm fine, okay? Can you please – " Imogen started to exclaim impatiently as she made her way to the front door but suddenly stopped in surprise when she opened the door to reveal a blonde Original standing on the other side with her eyebrow raised in bemusement. "Rebekah, hi!"
"Hello. May I?" she asked politely as she gestured with her hand inside the apartment and the witch nodded her acquiescence as she stepped aside to allow the vampire to pass by her. Rebekah eyed the nearly empty glass of wine sitting on the mahogany coffee table before turning around face the brunette and folding her hands in front of herself to stop from fidgeting nervously with her fingers. "I didn't mean to interrupt your evening."
"You're not." Imogen assured her quickly with a compassionate smile pulling on her lips and she stepped forward to rest a hand on the younger girls forearm with a concerned glint in her blue eyes, "Are you okay? I heard you spent the day locked in the City of the Dead with your brothers. I know that it must have been trying, to say the least."
"It was…illuminating." Rebekah stated honestly in a vague tone of voice as the corner of her mouth turned up in a slight smirk and Imogen nodded in acknowledgement as she squeezed the arm that she still under her fingers. "I came to say goodbye. Nik and I came to a sort of all-or-nothing arrangement. I leave town for good, and he allows me to. Can't pass that up."
"Should I be offering condolences or congratulations?"
There was a teasing edge of the witch's question that broke the melancholy tension that had settled over the apartment and the sorrowful glaze that was in Rebekah's cerulean eyes brightened as she chuckled in amusement. It had been far too long since she had felt the urge to laugh at anything, but it felt pleasant to actually want to experience genuine amusement and she had hope that it was the beginning of her new life. A life of laughter and happiness and hope, all the things that she had wanted since she was a child.
The thought of leaving her brothers behind to fend for themselves caused her chest to ache painfully, but the desire to be free and live her own life was far too great. Her relationships with both Elijah and Niklaus may have to been strained at best, but she did love them with all of her heart and it hurt her to think they were going to be stuck with only each for comfort once she left New Orleans. They were both their own worst enemy when it came to handling their emotions. They needed someone to help them accept what they were feeling and Rebekah had an intuitive belief that Imogen could be the one who kept them from breaking into a million pieces. She knew from past experience her brothers were stubborn when it came to accepting help from others but she had also witnessed Imogen's own unwavering tenacity when she believed in something, the unrelenting persistence she displayed in order to succeed.
"Imogen, my family…we are all broken. Niklaus with his anger and paranoia, me with my fear of abandonment. And poor Elijah...he dedicates himself to everyone but himself. We are the strongest creatures in the world, and yet, we are damaged beyond repair. We live without hope, but we will never die. We are the definition of 'cursed.'" Rebekah told the witch honestly in a saddened tone of voice as she lowered her gaze to the ground, suddenly unable to meet the knowing eyes of the witch she was confiding her most intimate thoughts.
"Why are you telling me this?" Imogen asked her softly without any judgement in her voice as she tilted her head to the side curiously, a small frown turning down the corners of her lips.
"Because my brothers are as stubborn as mules, and they will bury themselves in denial until one day, they combust in a carnage so devastating the streets will run red with the blood of their victims. They need someone to help them when they don't even know they need help. Someone who won't let their pain fester until it becomes fatal, to themselves or others. Someone strong enough to handle the burden of their phenomenal amount of emotional baggage. They need you, Imogen."
"That's one hell of a responsibility, Rebekah."
"But one you can handle. I have no doubt about that." the blonde said in a confident tone, an almost smug smirk creeping onto her lips as she tilted her head to the side and regarded the witch with admiration shining in her eyes. She had encountered numerous women over the centuries, many of whom her brothers had bedded, but there was something different about Imogen Claire and she knew deep within herself that she was leaving her brothers in capable hands.
Imogen narrowed her eyes in consideration as she crossed her arms over her chest, carefully scrutinising the Originals expression for any sign of how she was truly handling being ousted by her brother. It was no secret that the Original family were barely a family at all, but the relationship between the siblings was hinged together on a millennia of love and betrayal and hope for a better future. It was a bond that was not easily broken, one that was permeant despite their downfalls and hardships with each other.
Concern and resentment on behalf of the youngest Mikaelson children waged a war inside of the brunette as she witnessed the pain hidden behind the mask Rebekah always wore in front of a crowd. It was a startling experience to watch as the façade faded in front of your very eyes, a wakeup call, begging you to reconsider how you lived your own life, to be aware of your own potentiality and the vulnerability kept hidden from the world like a forbidden secret looming in the back of your mind.
There was a nearly invisible glow surrounding Rebekah, encompassing her entire being and Imogen knew that it was a mixture of happiness, loneliness, betrayal, regret, longing, guilt and numerous other emotions that melded together in puddle of complexity that was the human condition. It gave Imogen hope for the vampire, but it also sparked a maternal anxiety inside of her as she looked at the eternally seventeen year old girl.
"But who's going to look after you?" the witch asked in concern as she nibbled on her lower lip with her head tilted to the side and her frown deepened when her question was met with a startled bout of laughter.
"No one. I'm on my own. For the first time, I'm on my own. And I'm glad for it." Rebekah remarked with an honest grin on her lips as she clasped her hands in front of her and Imogen couldn't help but match her smile when she saw the genuine pleasure in her cerulean eyes. "You need not worry about me, Imogen. This is what I've always wanted for myself."
"Okay. Then I'm happy for you." Imogen conceded softly with a small smile as she shrugged one of her shoulders and she stepped forward with her arms extended until she had enfolded the blonde in an embrace. A subconscious part of her mind wondered if maybe she using the tightness of the hug to squeeze until all of the broken pieces of Rebekah's soul fell back together like a perfectly aligned jigsaw puzzle.
Rebekah returned the hug with the same enthusiasm, closing her eyes against the burning sensation of tears that filled her eyes in a moment of weakness and she allowed herself the brief length of the embrace to be vulnerable in the presence of another person.
"I got you something." the witch murmured quietly as she pulled back from the embrace, leaving her hands resting on the other girls shoulders and she bit her lower lip to stop from grinning too widely as she quickly made her way into her bedroom without a backwards glance.
A confused frown pulled at the corners of Rebekah's lips as she watched Imogen disappear to another room of the apartment and she took a moment to marvel at the longue room she was standing within.
All of the walls were painted a neutral cream colour that matched the mahogany furniture scattered around and she took note of the burgundy coloured couch to the side of the living room, along with the mismatched throw pillows on the cushions. The only personal touches in the apartment were the well-read novels that were lined up on the shelves of the bookshelf to the side of the room, the picturesque collage hanging on the wall and the pairs of shoes that were carelessly dispersed near the front door.
"I found this the other day at the market, some college students had set up a stall, and I immediately thought of you when I saw it sitting there." Imogen announced her presence as she strolled back into the room with a bright grin on her lips, a small blue rectangle in her hands as she approached where the blonde was still standing. "I know it's small but, I thought you'd appreciate it."
Rebekah accepted the small box with a puzzled expression but kept herself from asking any questions as she slowly lifted the lid from the container and one hand flew to her mouth to cover the gasp of surprise when she saw what was laying inside its confines.
A silver chain bracelet was nestled among the tissue paper, a flat pendent in the shape of a heart was hanging near the clasp and the inscription on the surface was written in perfect cursive.
Rebekah felt warmth swell in her chest as she pressed her lips in a straight line to stop from letting out a sob and tears brimmed in her eyes as she dropped her hand to her side, reading the engraving in a small voice, "'Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend.'"
"I know you missed out on a lot of 'normal' things. Especially, the things a mortal teenage girl would experience, and a lot those things you can't get back, but this? This I can give you, this you can have. A best friend. Someone to care about you regardless of the things you've seen, done, or experienced. Someone who chooses to have you in their life, knowing exactly the kind of person you are." Imogen said in a gentle tone of voice as she clasped her hands in front of her almost nervously, unsure of how the Original would interpret her gift. "Your brother's aren't the only one I'm going to be looking after."
"Thank you." the eternally seventeen year old girl breathed out in awe as she removed the bracelet from the box and clasped it on her wrist with an illuminous smile lighting up her beautiful features.
Imogen nodded in acknowledgement to the gratitude as she smiled at the glee obvious in Rebekah's expression and she internally vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep the light in the vampire's eyes.
The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the empty corridors of the Abattoir and the silence heavy reverberated against the walls, doing nothing to mask the footfalls approaching deeper into the confines of the building.
There were times when silence was louder than words, when nothing told more of a story than speaking aloud ever would and Imogen could hear the quiet whispers in the stillness of the compound. She had heard from numerous sources that the vampires of the city's privileges had been revoked under order of the Mikaelson family but it was eerie to be walking the corridors alone in the dark. The painted portraits of vampires throughout history hanging on the walls in frames seemed to watch every move the witch made, their inhuman eyes following her movement with an unnerving accuracy.
Imogen walked the familiar route to Klaus' personal study with an unsure but determined weight on her shoulders and she steeled herself for the unexpected as she paused in front of the closed double doors.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, the brunette pushed open one of the doors as she schooled her features into a mask of indifference and strolled into the room with an apprehensive pit in her stomach.
Klaus clenched his jaw when he heard the door to his study open and close softly, his mind conjuring the image of his older brother coming to scold him for his actions, or caution him against whatever plot he was concocting. The sound of soft footsteps caught attention, far too delicate to be his brother, and he frowned slightly when the familiar thump thump thump of a human heartbeat got closer to where he was sitting on the chaise longue. He turned his head slightly to the side, just enough to catch sight of a familiar brunette familiar heading straight towards his makeshift bar in the corner of the room.
A fire roared wildly within the hearth on the other side of the room, the flame drawing the attention of the occupants of the study as Imogen approached the hybrid from behind and she noticed the half empty glass of bourbon hanging limply between his fingers. An appreciative hum vibrated through her as she wandered over to the bar in the corner and she poured herself a generous amount of the amber liquid before taking a sip of the burning liquor.
"You've spoken to Elijah, then? He sent you to make sure I haven't started slaughtering the locals." He remarked sardonically with a bitter smirk as he raised his glass to his lips and she huffed in dry amusement as she sunk down onto the couch besides him without touching him in any way.
"I haven't spoken him today, actually."
"Then why are you here then? To plead my sister's case in her absence?"
"Nope. Rebekah already came to say goodbye. She seemed…sad, but hopeful. Nervous, but excited. Like a high school senior leaving for college."
Klaus kept his narrowed gaze steadfast on the flames as his fingers tightened around his glass subconscious, her observation of his sister sending a fresh wave pain through him. But there was also hint of gratitude, because as much as he didn't want to show weakness by inquiring about Rebekah's wellbeing, he was concerned and somehow Imogen knew exactly what he needed to hear without him having to ask.
Silence settled over them as they both stared at the open flame, watching it lick the space above the coals like a restless animal trying to escape the confines of the hearth. Imogen carefully kicked off her shoes, the noise of them hitting the floor echoed throughout the room and she shifted to tuck a leg underneath herself as she turned slightly to lean her back against the arm of the chaise longue. A cursory glance towards him made her notice the lack of alcohol within his crystal tumbler and so she extracted the empty glass from his grasp, causing him to lift his head up to frown at her but she simply replaced it with her own nearly full glass of bourbon. His lips quirked up at the corners as he nodded in gratitude, holding up the glass slightly in silent salute and she scrunched her nose up cutely in response before turning her gaze back to the unruly flame.
"Why are you here, Imogen?" Klaus asked softly in such a vulnerable tone of voice that he cringed to himself, disgusted by the frailty and he kept his eyes locked in front of him as he took a sip of his drink.
"When one of your friends are hurting, you be there for them. You are my friend." She answered simply with shrug of her shoulders, her tone could've been read as dismissive but he could hear the sincerity in her words.
The phrase forced him to raise the glass to his lips in order to hide the uncontrollably upturn of his lips, it had been a while since someone had considered themselves his friend, especially of their own volition. Friendship was something that had never come easily to him, even when he was mortal his best and sometimes only friend had always been his older brother. All of his relationships since he had turned were based on a falsehood of who could give him more power or who he could manipulate into giving him what he needed from them.
But Imogen was different, his relationship with her was different, and he didn't want it to end up the same way all the others concluded in the past. If he didn't want to end up destroying his tentative friendship with the witch, he had to adjust his behaviour accordingly and that meant revealing something personal from his past, no matter how uncomfortable that made him.
"I carved this for Rebekah when she was a child." He murmured quietly as he cast his eyes down to the small hand-carved wooden knight he was holding in his hand, rolling the figurine back and forth between his nimble fingers. "It was meant to be for Mikael, but there was a terrible thunderstorm one night and she was terrified. The poor thing was shaking in her fright, afraid to go to sleep even surrounded by our family. I told her it was a brave knight and with it, she could be brave too. I hated seeing her scared. I would anything to make her smile."
"It's gorgeous. You were talented even then." She told him honestly as she reached out to stroke the smooth engrained wood with the tip of her finger and he smiled briefly in her direction but didn't say a word as she took the nearly empty glass from his hand. "I'm kind of surprise it's survived a thousand years."
"I guess I have a hidden sentimental side." he stated teasingly with a smirk on his lips as he leaned back against the couch and she chuckled slightly in amusement, her blue eyes twinkling as she raised the glass to her lips.
"Well, I'm honoured to have caught a glimpse of it."
"You should feel honoured. Anyone else would be dead by now."
Imogen narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully as she tilted her head to the side and she pursed her lips in mock consideration, "I'm not entirely sure if you're kidding or not. I hope you are, it would kind of kill the mood if I had to kick your ass."
"Kick my ass? I'm sorry, love, but you're fighting above your weight class." Klaus mocked her in the same faux serious tone of voice as he sent her an arrogant smirk, feeling more comfortable with the light conversation.
"Please." Imogen scoffed indignantly with a scowl as she stood up from the couch, empty glass in her hand and she strolled over to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room as she argued, "One day, we're going to have to battle it out. Hybrid versus super witch."
A genuine laugh escaped his lips as he watched her refill both of the tumblers with bourbon and the smile remained as he listened to her ramble on about which one of them would win if they come out on top if they had a fair fight.
Imogen's bright voice filled the dark void that had formed the moment he had learned of his sister's treachery and he couldn't help but think that sometimes it was the people you least expected that helped you to regain your footing once you fell.
It was nearly midnight by the time Imogen had extracted herself from the stimulating conversation about which historic figure would make a better vampire. Klaus was positive that Marilyn Munroe would have relished in the allure of immortality, of forever being young and beautiful, and taken a liking to the debauchery that came with vampirism. ('Trust me, Imogen, she was one of the wild ones', Klaus had murmured with a salacious smirk on his lips as he flashed her a knowing wink.)
They had spent the night speaking about of his past endeavours, staying away from some of the heavier topics that could have crept into conversation and she told him about some of the adventures she had experienced while she was down in South America, partying her way across the continent with Sophie. It was pleasant for both of them to speak to someone, to have an adult conversation that didn't revolve around the supernatural, that didn't have anything to do with death or murder or magic.
Imogen sighed to herself as she stepped into the elevator inside her building, the alcohol that ran through veins was starting to fade and the slight buzz she was experiencing made her almost intoxicated. She hummed nonsense to herself as she swayed in time to the classical music playing through the speakers and she closed her eyes as she leaned back against the side of the elevator.
The ding that indicated that the elevator had reached its destination echoed throughout the small space and she jumped in surprise as her eyes flew open, blinking rapidly to clear her cobwebbed mind. She strolled out of the elevator as she went back to her nonsensical humming and she haphazardly attempted to kick off the boots that she had thrown on before leaving the apartment earlier.
"I was wondering how long you would keep me waiting."
The melodious voice interrupted her grumbling under her breath, causing her to freeze in her position bent over at the waist with one hand tugging off her left shoe and she lifted her head as she roughly brushed her brunette hair out of her eyes.
It was a strange sight to see someone as impeccable as Elijah Mikaelson sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him, his white dress shirt buttons undone around the collar and the sleeves pushed above his elbows, his brown hair messy in a way that suggested he had run his fingers through it numerously.
"Elijah, hi!" Imogen greeted him in surprise as she abruptly stood up straight in an effort to appear more composed and then immediately reached out to place a hand on the wall when a wave of vertigo washed over her, "Whoa. Bad idea," she exhaled out under her breath as she closed her eyes in an effort to relieve the nausea and she felt a breeze touch her skin before a heavy presence was besides her as gentle fingers brushed a strand of hair off of her face. She forced her eyes open as she looked up at Elijah's concerned frown, offering him a small smile as she pushed herself off of the wall and the Originals arm went securely around her waist, making sure she was balanced on her feet, "I'm okay. I just moved to fast. I think your brother forgot that I can get liver damage."
"You were with Niklaus?" Elijah asked curiously with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he kept his arm around her waist and she hummed in acknowledgement with a nod of her head as they headed towards the front door.
"Is that a grocery bag?" she asked in surprise as she stopped in front of her apartment, reaching into her sweatshirt pocket for her keys and he bent down to retrieve the brown paper bag from the floor as she unlocked the front door. She turned around to face him, using her body to block the entrance to the apartment and she plastered a mock serious expression on her face as she tilted her head to the side. "What's inside? Because the answer factors into whether or not I let you into the apartment."
"I have…" he began to tell her in a playful tone of voice as his lips turned up slightly in uncontrollable smile, her infectious disposition effecting him and he reached into the brown paper bag before pulling out a carton of Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie ice-cream as he spoke in a serious voice, "Mint-chocolate chip ice-cream."
"Oh, god, you're beautiful." Imogen said in an awed tone of voice as she locked her gaze on the carton in his hand and he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him as he allowed her to easily take it from him. "You know I'm talking to the ice-cream, right?"
"I'm aware."
"Good. That's could've been awkward."
"Ladies first." He offered politely with a half-smile as he gestured towards the apartment with his hand and she quirked an eyebrow at him with a scoff as she rested her hands on her hips indignantly.
"'Ladies first' is just a nice way of saying 'let me looking at your ass while you walk in front of me'. You have a gentlemanly pretence but I see you, Elijah Mikaelson." She warned him teasingly with a hint of sincerity in her voice as she narrowed her eyes at him and he tried to appear innocent as she turned around to head inside the apartment.
The moment her back was turned away from him, his gaze instinctively dropped down the length of her athletic body and something about the purposeful sway of her hips made him think she knew exactly where his eyes had gone. Lust spread through his veins as he watched her movements, his mind conjuring images of other activities that could involve those hips and his stomach tightened with desire as he cleared his suddenly dry throat.
"Grab some spoons!" Imogen called over her shoulder without looking at him as she threw herself down on one end of the couch and she placed the carton of ice-cream on the coffee table before preceding to take off her boots. She released a sigh as she leaned back against the couch while she was stretched her arms over her head and her gaze almost immediately landed on the handsome Original moving around her kitchen in search of utensils.
There was a certain domesticity that had settled over them when they entered the room and it should have scared her to the depths of her soul but it was sort of nice to feel a solid presence in the apartment with her. Maybe it was because she was aware that he was an Original and no one had a hope of defeating him if challenged but she felt undeniably safe in his presence. The apartment had always seemed so large and empty when it was just her alone at night, but having Elijah wandering around the kitchen like he belonged there made it feel more relaxing.
"Hurry up, Elijah, the ice-cream's melting." She exclaimed in mock exasperation as she tucked her legs underneath herself with a playful scowl and he used his vampire speed to practically appear besides her on the couch as he held up his hand to display two spoons in his grasp with a smirk on his lips. "Show off."
Imogen stuck her tongue out at him childishly as she took the lid off of the carton of ice-cream and she relaxed against the cushions as she plucked one of the spoons out from in between Elijah's fingers.
"May I tell you something?" he asked her in a hesitant voice as he settled himself into a comfortable position on the couch, facing her so that he could watch her facial features as she scooped a spoonful of the creamy dessert.
"Hit me with it." She mumbled around the spoon in between her lips as she relished in the taste of her ice-cream and she couldn't help the slight moan that rumbled from the back of her throat, the sound causing Elijah's oak brown eyes to darken with lust.
"I have never tasted this particular flavour of ice-cream."
"I'm sorry, that sentence doesn't even make sense to me."
"Do you wish for me to repeat it?" he asked teasingly with an eyebrow raised in question, mirth dancing in his eyes as he watched her flabbergasted expression and she shook her head to herself until a determined purse of her lips overtook her shock.
"Here. Open up." She ordered sternly as she used her own spoon to scoop up some of the mint green dessert and he looked at her for a long moment in reluctance but her determination was unwavering. She held the spoon up as she quirked an eyebrow expectantly, swerving it through the air as though pretending it was an airplane like a mother might do to a child and he narrowed his eyes at the silent challenge as he parted his lips, allowing her to feed him the spoonful of ice-cream.
"Hm-mm." he hummed in acknowledgement of the interesting mixture of flavours as he nodded absently and Imogen grinned in accomplishment as she sat back against the couch. "I can taste the appeal."
"Does that mean I have to share my ice-cream?"
"Technically, it's my ice-cream." Elijah countered smugly with a smirk on his lips as he took the carton out of her hands and she gasped out loud in shock as she watched him eat a spoonful of ice-cream, an amused giggle escaping her when he sent her a taunting wink.
"Share with me?" she asked coyly with an exaggerated pout of her lips as she tilted her head to the side and he pursed his lips in mock consideration, tapping his chin with his finger as she waited on his decision. "Please?"
"I suppose I could be persuaded to share with you." he concluded loftily with a mask of superiority as he held the container in the hand furthest from her, one of his eyebrow raised provocatively and she couldn't help but gape at his sudden burst of roguishness as she tried not to blush.
"That sounds remarkably suggestive, Mr Mikaelson."
"How badly do you desire this ice-cream?"
Imogen grinned seductively at the challenge in his voice as she slowly untucked her legs from underneath herself and he watched her movements with analytical oak brown eyes, a deep seated desire burning in there depths. She rested one hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she swung her leg over his lap, essentially in the position of straddling him and she could feel the callouses of his palm as he pressed a hand to the skin of her waist where her shirt had ridden up slightly when she moved. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a mixture of arousal and anxiety that flooded through her veins and she met his intense gaze with one of her own as her fingers dug into his shoulders.
And suddenly, the consumption of ice-cream was the furthest thing from her mind and his eyes flickered momentarily down to her lips as she subconsciously ran her tongue over her lower lip.
Elijah felt his stomach tighten with lust as he leaned over to place the carton of ice-cream on the table on the other side of the arm of the couch and the friction of his suit pants rubbing against her jeans sent a spike of need through him. One of her hands trailed down his chest to rest over his heart as he turned his attention back to the brunette in his lap and his hands kept her firmly planted on top of his thighs as she leaned her body further against him.
"This was not what I had in mind when I came over this evening." He admitted in a low voice as his thumbs caressed her hipbones absently, each stroke sending a jolt through her body.
"Are you complaining?" Imogen asked him huskily with a seductive smirk spreading across her lips as she rocked her hips towards him slightly, causing him to hold back a groan as his hands tightened uncontrollably.
"Not in the slightest." He practically growled as he reached up to grab the back of her neck, pulling her down to meet his lips in a heated kiss and she gasped in surprise at the sudden move as she immediately matched the intensity of the gesture.
A fire was ignited in the pit of her stomach, a smouldering flame that wasn't like anything she had ever experienced and she arched her body into him as she folded under the demands of his commanding lips. She could taste the lingering flavours of the mint chocolate ice-cream on his tongue as she curled her hands around the open collar of his shirt, drawing him even closer and he responded by sliding his hand under the back of her Tulane university t-shirt until it came to rest on the small of her back. His hand caressed a path up the side of her body until it reached her ribcage and his opposite hand tightened into a fist at the back of her shirt, scrunching it up in the process. Her skin burned where he touch, taunting her as it drove her desire for more and she slipped one of her hands underneath the collar of his dress shirt as she used her nails to gently scratch his skin.
Imogen pulled back from the embrace when her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, panting desperately for air as Elijah began pressing a series of burning hot open mouth kisses on the underside of her jaw. She gasped out loud as she closed her eyes in pleasure when he found a particularly sensitive location on her neck and she felt her stomach tighten with need as she rocked her hips against him teasingly.
Electricity charged through her whole body as she tilted her to the side in an effort to give him better access to her skin and his hands roamed over her body like he was trying to map out every curve, to memorise every inch. Her entire body melted against him, fitting against his chest like she was attempting to melt into him.
"Elijah…" she gasped out his name breathlessly as her fingers tugged at his disarrayed brunette hair and she felt him smile against her flushed skin before he lowered his lips to her collarbone. She felt him sigh against her skin as he lifted his head, causing her eyelids to flutter open at the loss of contact and she offered him a confused frown as she tried to clear her lust-fogged mind while regulating her breathing.
"We should stop before this gets too out of hand." He explained reluctantly in a strained voice as he reached up to sooth her swollen lower lip with his thumb and she nodded absently as she ran a hand through her brunette hair, a scarlet flush creeping up the column of her throat.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea." She agreed hoarsely with a slow exhale before clearing her throat as she rested her palms on either side of his neck and he leaned forward to give her a leisurely kiss, both of them falling back into each other until she reluctantly pulled back with a groan, "Stopping. We were stopping."
"Yes, we were."
"I'm serious."
"As am I. It was my idea."
"Shut up." Imogen said playfully with a smirk on her lips as she slapped his shoulder gently and she pulled herself off of his lap, collapsing back onto the couch next to him with a sigh escaping her lips. She threw her jean-clad legs over his lap as she leaned back against the arm of the couch and he looked over at her with an amused half-smile on his lips as she shifted to get in the right position.
"Comfortable?" Elijah asked her with a raised eyebrow as he almost subconsciously began massaging her feet with his thumbs and she nodded in answer as she hummed in contentment with a small smile.
The witch reached over to grab the television remote from the coffee table, turning it on so that the familiar sound of Casablanca broadcasted while they watched the movie play out on the screen. It was a foreign feeling, sitting with someone while they did nothing but watching a movie with no expectations or to receive a foot rub without it having to lead anywhere.
A thought came to Imogen as she watched the movie, basking in the pleasure of Elijah's skilful massage technique and her lips turned down in a frown as she looked over at the man sitting beside her with a raised eyebrow, "Can I have my ice-cream now?"