Fire tore through his soul incinerating all that was beautiful. Flames that burned through him every single night have come again. Sometimes they spared X as he desperately wished but more often than not he found himself locked outside as if stuck in concrete, powerless to save her from screaming. Julia, Julia...she did not fully know what she took from him. And Woz...well, the old hyena was even more clueless. And those darn comments about his place? So what if it looked and felt like a cold cardboard box? He'd rather prefer it be a coffin.
X, Y, Z. What a terrible mess all this was and the moment he allowed himself a sliver of weakness his anger bit him in the ass. He should have known better, known that Julia would awaken her acolytes and bite back like a rabid bitch.
He needed air. He remembered feeling something when he first saw her at the hotel. Her carefree wildness suited him, inviting to soothe his senses. But he was angry, too angry to feel anything but aggression, too angry not to inflict pain. Grief had many faces-some people cried, some laughed, others shut down. Him? His insides were singed and his heart nonexistent.
Now he looked at her warm caramel skin and all he wanted to do was pound himself into it, over and over again. He was pleased they ended up here. Smirking, he ran the back of his hand up inside one thigh and down the other. She averted her eyes, her chest heaving. That's when he lost it. Making quick work of her dress and his tie he made her destroy him. And after...after, he took his time f...ing her in his bed, long and deep, until he again became human...
When it was over, a fraction of sanity barely left in him, he saw her downstairs and paid for the cab. His powerful form was backlit by the building and Harlee could not tear her eyes away. She chose the wrong time to admire. A fuzzy moth brushed at her collarbone and she jumped, taking in a sharp breath. He whipped around and was upon her in three easy steps, voice rising in warning:
"Harlee... You shouldn't have come here".