Disclaimer: Anyone or anything that wasn't in the movie is mine, and anyone or anything that was in the movie is obviously not.

Author's Note: Anyone not new to this story should know how bad I am at updating. Not even gonna bother explaining. Anyway, sorry about that, here's a new chapter. It gets... interesting.

Chapter 44: Lack Of Restraint

I stared dumbly at the phone, unable to accept this newest bit of bad luck.

"No. No, no, no no NO!!" I yelled, shaking the phone, willing it to turn back on and show me that ridiculous kitty background again.

Despite my wishes, the phone stayed just as dead. Frustrated, I threw it as far away as I could. Considering my arms felt like electrified jelly, that wasn't very far. Coincidentally, that landed the evil little device right in the middle of that patch of grass I'd lit on fire. I realized belatedly that I might still have use for that phone. I tried to crawl towards that fire to put it out, but my head started spinning so I ended up curled in a ball with my head between my knees close enough to the flame to feel the heat beating on the top of my head. As I was fighting this most recent wave of nausea—not to mention panic—Kyle must have succeeded in teleporting to me. Unfortunately he wasn't alone.

I lifted my head just enough to see Kyle's familiar jeans and shoes, albeit from the unusual point of view of being close enough to notice that he could use some new shoelaces. He was putting out my little grass fire with a fire extinguisher. Clever Kyle must've snatched it from the wall by the kitchen before he came to save me. Since Kyle was preoccupied, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who was shaking me, asking frantically if I was alright. And since I couldn't lift my head without feeling nauseous, having someone shake my whole body made me feel… somewhat less than peachy.

"Let go of me, you twat!" I exploded, flailing my arm back in a half shooing, half hoping to connect with his head and cause pain kind of motion.

I crawled a few feet away; away from the dying fire and disorienting white cloud of flame retardant chemicals, and especially away from Warren. I fought against a fresh bout of retching, convulsing as my stomach tried to expel things that weren't there anymore. Having nothing in me didn't stop my insides from trying to tear themselves apart though. Basically, it felt like I was going to puke up a kidney. Not fun.

Once I'd finished coughing up a final bit of nothing, I rolled away from Warren again and more or less collapsed on a blessedly cool piece of grass. In a few moments my teeth were chattering and I was covered in goose bumps. Once again, Warren showed up at my side and reached for me. I tried swatting him away weakly to no avail, although mercifully he didn't try shaking me again. He just lifted me up by the shoulders gently and settled me in his lap with his arms around me. I was planning on struggling, but he was just so warm. Against my own half-formed will I snuggled deeper into his chest and tucked my head under his chin. Damn traitorous body… I'd struggle. I just had to be able to move my limbs. I'd get around to it. Eventually.

Now that I was surrounded by warmth, I was starting to doze off. Through heavy-lidded eyes I watched Kyle finish putting out the fire. He threw down the fire extinguisher and sat on the grass in front of Warren and I. They were both talking, and it took me a while to figure out they were both talking to me. I blinked up at them drowsily.

"Eevee, what happened?" Kyle questioned earnestly, brushing damp strands of hair away from my scraped, sweaty, dirty, and probably green-tinged face.

It took me a minute or so to gather together my very illuminating response, "I have no idea."

I felt Warren lean over me and tensed for a second, but he just bluntly remarked, "You smell like booze."

Kyle's eyebrows shot up and he asked incredulously, "Are you drunk?"

I couldn't resist. "Yeah…so? Stupid…"

Kyle's eyebrows dropped back down and he looked about as serious as I'd ever seen him. Tough crowd.

"Not funny, Eve."

I let out a strangled laugh, managing to be dryly sarcastic yet completely sloshed, "No, it really isn't."

Warren silently handed me a piece of gum, rested his chin back on my head and murmured, "Eve, what did you do?"

I gladly accepted the gum, unwrapping it as I tried to vocalize my constantly shifting thoughts, "I really don't know. I—I was in my room and then—then I was on that swing there…" I swallowed, the thought of that pendulum motion made me feel ill again, "then I fell. And I've pretty been trying to vomit out my internal organs since then… Can't remember what happened… Must've been some weird shit though. Can't focus… Just wanna curl up and die."

I chewed carefully as Kyle sat there thoughtfully digesting the information. My stomach didn't react badly to the minty taste; the gum actually made me feel a lot better by getting the sour taste out of my mouth. The idea of asking Warren if he knew that from personal experience or just intuition flitted across my mind and was gone. A chill breeze sprung up, making the film of sweat clinging to my skin feel like a mask. I buried my face into the soft cloth of Warren's shirt. He smelled nice.

"We should take you home instead of sitting here trying to figure things… where are we, anyway?" Kyle asked, standing up.

"Dunno," I mumbled into Warren's shirt.

"Maybe I should look into that before we go…" Kyle trailed off, wandering away.

Warren started absently running his fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. It felt good. Some thought floated up out of the depths of my blurry mind as to why it should, in fact, not feel good. I just couldn't seem to pull it together enough to comprehend what that thought could be. I tried to focus, but all my nerve endings seemed to be coursing with energy. I felt acutely aware every sensation: the texture of the slightly dewy grass under my outstretched legs, every inch of pebbled bare skin that the cool breeze blew across, the deliciously smooth feeling of the mysterious silk dress I was wearing, and every single part of my body that was in contact with Warren's, bare or no. The back of my neck and my ears in particular felt like they were burning. All this made it very hard to concentrate.

When I stopped trying to remember what I was trying to think of and just focused on the sensation, it got more intense. I could smell the soap he used and the scent of his skin underneath. Could practically taste it. He was wearing either a sleeveless or short-sleeved shirt—I hadn't actually looked up at him even once—and everywhere his skin touched mine it felt like I was melting. I couldn't not notice anymore. It was getting harder to breathe; I was doing my best not to pant. I was so aware that it was almost painful, the back of my neck actually ached with sensation. I was getting flushed, I could tell. Some part of me said this could be embarrassing; I tried to stop myself and focus on the ground, but that painful pleasurable feeling wouldn't allow me to focus. My hands, resting on his chest, itched with the desire to slip under his shirt to feel more bare skin, and it was all I could do to restrain myself. I felt something in me tighten and shut my mouth to smother a sort of moan, almost a whimper. Warren heard it anyway.

"Eve, You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice as he shifted to tilt my head up and look down at my face.

Though it felt like my skin was singing with energy, it was so hard to move at all. In the interest of restraint, however, I lifted my left hand up so I could bite my index finger. Had to do something to stop myself. Couldn't feel it anyway, oddly enough. He was so damn hot. He was wearing a dark red muscle shirt, so I could see the curves of his shoulders and it was so hard to keep from running my hand across them and into the shirt. His hair was tied back like he'd been at work but a few strands had fallen out to frame his face, and I had to bite down a little hard to keep my hands still. The other hand was already balled into a fist clenching the hem of his shirt. His deep, dark eyes held all the concern he tried to filter out of his voice as well as that ever present something else, and I could see a hint of his pearly white teeth as he bit down lightly on his perfect lower lip. I looked up at him despairingly, feeling like I was drowning. No, no, no, I thought to myself vaguely. I'm sure there's a reason why this is wrong. Just can't… quite…remember…

He pulled a cloth out of his pants pocket and wiped most of the grime off my face. Should've at least stung. Couldn't feel a thing. His brow anxiously furrowed a bit more as he put the cloth away again, eyes never shifting from my face.

"Eve?" he asked again, gently prying my finger out from between my teeth.

He set my hand in my lap and reached out to touch my cheek. I've only got so much self-control when I'm not drunk out of my mind; I wasn't able to take this anymore. My hand slid up under his shirt to feel the stomach muscle underneath. Warren squeezed his eyes shut and made a little sound in his throat, tangling his fingers into my hair reflexively. I leaned up to brush my lips along the line of his jaw as my hands—the right one had broken free—travelled farther up his bare chest under the shirt. He shivered, clutching the back of my head and pulling me up as his other hand slid down to the small of my back and pulled me into his body. I had time to gasp and then he was kissing me. Well, I was kissing him back just as forcefully, against the wishes of that little voice screaming in the back of my head.

Suddenly Warren pulled back, holding me away by my upper arms. My lips were still burning with the feel of his.

"Eve, I can't do this to you," he said, sorrow and lust warring across his face, "You're not thinking straight, you're not yourself, and this is definitely taking advantage of you. I can't—won't do that."

"But I want you to," I breathed, sliding my hands across the smooth bare skin of his back and pulling him in.

Apparently his self-control isn't much better than mine, because he let me back in. I bit his lower lip lightly and he shuddered. One of his hands slid down my side to my thigh, fingers hesitantly curling under the edge of my dress. I licked briefly across his teeth and then moved to the spot on his neck just below his ear, panting. His fingers twitched up a few inches. I bit gently and sucked less gently. He gasped, fingers nearly rending the silk as he clutched at the dress's hem desperately, trying to control himself.

Abruptly Kyle's dry voice interrupted, "Well, this is awkward."