hello everyone :) how's it hangin? excited for easter? chocolate? i am. this is actually so random, like i kinda just went with it from that harley calendar plus i was super bored...13 pages on word you guys it was pretty fun. also does anyone else find it awkward trying to say butt on here? like if you say butt or ass it just ruins the tone...ANYWAY
i don't own the night world
jez and morgead are 16 and 17 (i wanted to do one with them younger but maybe next time)
Model
Jez was . . . confused.
It was a brisk fall day, and Pierce was standing on Jez's doorstep with a light t-shirt and cold expression. He was trying to explain to her how she needed to come with him to a photoshoot of a lamia buddy of his for a magazine. She would be payed, he said. She could grab a bite as well; that's what the human models were for.
But Jez . . . just didn't understand.
"Jez, there's nothing here not to get," Pierce hissed. He was passed the point of annoyance and would rather not be at Jez's door, but Colt was in desperate need of another model. More specifically: a model with red hair.
"Actually, there's quite a bit," she quipped back, crossing her arms irritably. "Why is it this friend of yours needs me? Why did you suggest me in the first place?"
"The witch he had in the first place had to cancel last minute – very last minute. Colt needed another girl with red hair immediately, so I obviously suggested you," he growled, leaning towards her menacingly and drawing back his lips in a vicious snarl.
Pierce was pushing his luck; forgetting who was in charge between the two of them. Not to mention that Jez didn't like Pierce too much in the first place, and was inclined to turn him down, slam the door in his face and let him flounder.
"Look, he'll pay you a hundred dollars for it."
That changed her mind. With a hundred bucks she could finally pay for that new leather upholstery she wanted for her bike seat.
Narrowing her eyes and leaning in close to Pierce, Jez whispered, "Fine. But you better remember who's in charge here. If you keep talking to me like that then I'll walk out of there quicker than you can bite your tongue and you'll have hell to pay."
They were standing nose to nose on either side of the threshold of Jez's house, glares locked in a silent battle of tempers. After what could have been an infinite number of life cycles passed, Pierce flicked his lids down to cover most of his eyes and stepped back in submission, a cool, sub-zero expression freezing over his ill-tempered snarl.
Looking once again like a statue cut from the coolest marble, Pierce muttered, "Understood. Now let's go."
Jez eyed him narrowly still, demanding, "Do I need to change my clothes?"
She was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, as she'd been doing nothing more than lying on the couch watching TV and snacking all day. But Pierce didn't even glance at her attire before he informed her coolly that there would be an outfit ready for her at the studio.
He was already saddled on his bike and looking like he wanted to snap at her to hurry up as she shoved her feet into a pair of boots and pulled out her own bike.
"Lead the way," Jez sneered through her helmet.
Quite savagely, Pierce revved his engine and tore out of her driveway, adding yet another set of skid marks to the criss-cross of tracks decorating Jez's drive.
A few short minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot of Morgead's building.
Pulling off her helmet as she saw Pierce doing so, Jez squinted up at the roof, shielding her eyes from the sun and asking, "What do we need Morgead for?"
"We don't."
"Uh huh," dismounting her bike, Jez caught up with Pierce at the door as he was being buzzed in.
They did something that Jez had never done before: they stopped at the first floor.
There was a commotion behind one of the big doors, and they were headed right for it.
"They're doing this thing in here?" Jez asked incredulously. "Does Morgead know?"
Flicking a look at Jez back over his shoulder, Pierce paused at the door and muttered, "He probably will soon." He pushed open the door and stepped into the room, leaving Jez two steps behind as she puzzled over what he meant.
Obviously, Pierce was referring to her. If Morgead was awake, then he had probably sensed Jez the moment she pulled into the lot and, expecting her to come up to his apartment, he would undoubtedly come down here to investigate when she didn't turn up.
Shaking her head as she entered the room, Jez dropped her curious scowl and raised her eyebrows. She'd only ever had brief glimpses of the interior of these rooms – just enough to know they were big and bright and open.
But now she was in one.
Trailing after Pierce, Jez had her head on a swivel. The room certainly was big – very big. It was filled with people and equipment. The people were obviously either crew or models – some clad in short-shorts and others in short, old-timey dresses. There were a lot of handsome, shirtless men. Tall lights and white umbrellas faced what looked like huge white sheets draped across the floor and pulled up to make a sort of wall where a boy was posing with what Jez guessed to be a Harley Davidson Softail Slim with a custom gold and blue paintjob and a monoshock system. At the far side of the room on another of the sheets next to a hangar door, there was a lime green Mustang – black racing stripe and rear wing and all. People milled about the car, but nothing much seemed to be going on with it at the moment.
"Woah," Jez breathed.
"Keep up,"
Grumbling to herself, Jez caught up with him in the center of the huge room just as a man who looked like he was in charge turned around to face him. He had a group of attractive people with headsets and phones and coffees behind him which he waved off when he faced Pierce.
He grinned. "You're back! And you brought me . . ." he looked Jez up and down critically for a moment, muttering, "Yeah that's good. This'll work."
Pierce glanced at her through the corner of his eye and informed Jez: "This is Colt. He's the one in charge." And with that, he was waved over by the crew huddled around the viewing equipment for the bike shoot.
"The name's Colt, sweetie," Colt introduced himself as if Pierce hadn't just told her. "And what, may I ask is your name?"
Jez crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. "Jez. Not hon, not cutie, and not," she eyed him narrowly. "Sweetie."
"Hmm," Colt nodded and announced very loudly, "I like it!"
He took her arm and led her over to a corner of the room where there was a screen cordoning off a small spot and a number of single wardrobe bars filled with clothes that could be wheeled around.
Vampire, I presume? Colt asked with a wink as he and Jez maneuvered through the bustling crowd.
Jez nodded, deciding to add that she was also lamia, like him. It made him smile grandly.
Glad to have you with us Miss . . .?
Redfern.
Colt's eyebrows shot up and he glanced wide-eyed down at her in surprise. He had nice eyes, Jez decided. Green with strikes of blue that stuck out because of his pure white hair.
"You're a Redfern," he mused. "Amazing, amazing . . ." he patted her hand idly.
They reached the wardrobe section and Colt turned to her with another blinding smile, saying, "I'm so thankful to you for filling in, Miss Redfern," he lowered his voice and leaned in conspicuously even though Jez could hear him just fine when he lowered his voice. "We originally had a witch, you know. But she was reckless with a spell. Horrible accident; burned half her face to a crisp. Such a shame," he gazed thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, making Jez uncomfortable. They weren't walking anymore, just linking arms while the wardrobe crew waited patiently to the side.
"Anyway! I'll leave you here to get ready. Once you're done, make your way on over to where that car is now, and we'll get started. Got it?"
Jez nodded, slipping from his grasp and taking a rather large step away.
He toddled off with a happy lilt as one of the waiting crew members approached Jez. It was a man, late twenties, clearly vermin.
He smiled at Jez and ushered her over to one rack of clothes. Considering her sceptically, he asked, "How, um, in shape would you say you are?"
"Sorry, what?"
He was looking critically at her baggy clothes, and Jez realized that she must look frumpy and figureless.
Sighing irritably, Jez ran her fingers through her hair and growled, "Just give me whatever you think will look good with the car."
Nodding and shoving a tiny black garment and leather pants into her arms, the man shooed her behind the curtain and told her to hurry.
As she whipped off her baggy clothes Jez heard the hangar door open and the car start. Curious, she peeked around the curtain and saw it pulling carefully out the door and disappear from sight.
"Are you done?"
Jez grunted and ducked back in. She finished pulling the shirt on and glanced down at herself. She was wearing a pair of leather pants that had no zippers or pockets and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The top was a spaghetti strap so small it strained at her chest and just brushed her belly button. She was, just like normal, wearing all black.
The familiar outfit made her feel slightly more comfortable in this strange place.
Despite her combat boots matching her outfit already, Jez was given a pair of knee-highs with pointy heals that she could barely walk in.
The man who'd dressed her appraised his work once she was done. He'd been quite surprized when Jez had strode out from behind the curtain and shook out her hair. Obviously, he hadn't been expected her to look so . . . good.
With a brief hesitation and a glance at her hair, the man pushed her in the direction of the makeup station and she wobbled over as fast as her heals would allow.
The young girl at the makeup table looked at her and smiled. She told Jez she was so beautiful, and would kill for her completion. Then she sat Jez down in an uncomfortable chair and massaged sweet-smelling gunk into her hair.
When she was done, Jez's hair was soft and fluffy, falling in natural beach waves down to her waist.
"Great volume," the girl commented as she bid her over to wherever she was supposed to be.
Jez was careful on the walk over to where there was now a beautiful new car parked. It was a Corvette – a black-as-night Stingray. Even the windows were tinted to darkly she couldn't see inside.
As she weaved through people left and right, Jez glanced over to where the Harley was still parked and saw Pierce sitting on it with a scantily-clad woman standing behind him with her breasts hanging over his head.
Jez stifled a laugh at Pierce's emotionless face aimed straight into the camera. That is, until he heard her and his cool eyes danced up and down her body appreciatively. He quirked a brow and turned his attention back to what he was doing.
Jez shook her head. Too weird; this was just too weird.
Jez was almost to the car, so close it was cruel, when a smooth looking Italian man fell into step with her and flashed a blinding smile.
"Ciao, bella," his voice was smooth and deep, the type of voice one might call seductive. But he slipped his too-warm hand across Jez's hip and circled his thumb on her bare skin and Jez cringed, longing to bat him away.
Pushing off of him with her elbow, Jez tried to step away, saying, "Don't even think about it." But the man – the vampire – moved his hand lower until it cupped the curve of her bottom.
Baring her teeth, Jez whipped her hand down to clap his jewels, but he was obviously quick. He deflected her strike and stepped back coyly. It was what Jez had been going for, although hitting him would have been an added bonus.
"Calm down there, little one," he chuckled deeply, flashing his fangs in a slinky smile. Jez got the feeling he was a lot older than he looked.
"Don't tell me to calm down," Jez spat, shifting briefly herself. "Better yet, don't come near me again."
She spun on her sharp heel and marched as quickly as she could steadily move to where Colt was standing making picture frame fingers at the car from different angles. He was squatting when she clicked up next to him, hands on her hip and scowl creasing her brow.
Colt glanced up at her and raised a single eyebrow, rising to his feet. "Stunning," he murmured with a nod.
"If I'd known you were going to dress me like this, I would have just worn my own clothes," Jez intoned.
Colt laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and guiding her closer to the car. He stroked his fingertips across a ridge on the hood and smiled at her. "Are you read to begin?"
Jez sighed and made a, Let's get on with it, gesture.
He smiled and pulled her by her shoulders over to the side of the door, telling her to do what felt natural, but that they'd also be getting her to do certain things.
"Don't smile," he said. "It doesn't go well with the type of thing we're going for."
"Yeah, no danger there."
And so it began.
Jez was encouraged to twist into all sorts of awkward positions and places – bent over the hood, through the window, sitting in the driver's seat with one leg planted on the ground, and at one point, sprawled across the hood with her legs splayed and her hand fisted in her shirt.
Pierce had wandered over at some point and there was cold amusement twinkling in his eyes as he watched her struggle.
After a while, Colt called, "Alright, Jez, you still look a little stiff up there, why don't we get someone else in there with you." he glanced around at the small crowd, and caught sight of Pierce. He motioned him up with Jez and told her to follow his lead.
Pierce moved very close to Jez and wrapped his arm around her waist as he perched expertly on the hood. He pulled Jez in between his knees and with barely a twitch of his lips breathed, "I guess I'm the one in charge now."
The photoshoot with Pierce didn't last very long. There were several uncomfortably close poses, many of which left Jez glaring at the camera instead of sending some sort of wistful gaze like she'd been trying for when she was alone.
Eventually Colt waved the cameras away and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I still don't like this. I really want Jez to be the focus model here, and Pierce, your hair isn't the right fit, it's standing out too much."
And just like that, Jez realized why she was there. It was the whole point of the red hair – it stood out wonderfully against all this black, like a small blaze of fire in a black and white scene. Pierce's white blond hair was sticking out as well, lessening the effect of Jez's red.
"I think we need a dark-haired model. Who do we have . . ."
Jez felt a sinking in her stomach and thought, Oh please not that guy. Anyone but him!
Colt peered over the heads of everyone and for the first time Jez realized that almost no two models had the same colour hair. There were blues and golden yellows and greens and browns. There was only one black.
"Ermanno! Come here, we need you!"
Jez's stomach dropped through the floor. The Italian vampire Jez had encountered earlier glided up to Colt and gave him a dashing smile. "How can I be of assistance?"
"Just go get wardrobe to give you a black shirt and come stand in with Miss Redfern," Colt waved up at Jez leaning against the hood with her arms folded across her chest and a dangerous look on her face.
Ermanno gave pause when he heard her name – she saw it – but he still flashed a smile and inclined his head. "Ovviamente, signor."
As soon as his back was turned, Jez darted for Colt and begged, "I'm not doing anything with him! Isn't there anyone else that could do it?"
Colt's face twitched into a curious look, but thankfully, he didn't ask questions. He did though, regretfully reply, "He is our only model with black hair. We have no one else."
Jez bit back a groan and turned to stomp away before she realized something.
The building. They were in Morgead's building
Morgead had black hair.
Turning quickly back to Colt, Jez nearly shouted, "I know someone who can do it! He has black hair; he's really attractive!"
Colt gave her a surprized look, and Jez saw Pierce flash an amused expression.
"But, Ermanno is here. Why do you need –?"
Jez swallowed a growl and practically wailed, "Please? He lives in this building; I'll bet you anything that he's already wearing black; it would be really fast. I'll drag him down by his hair if I have to!" she finished her plea in a strangled hiss. She could already see Ermanno ghosting back across the room.
Colt's eyes bored into Jez's own. She figured he could sense the anguish coming off of her in waves. Finally, he nodded and whispered, "Be quick."
Jez wasted no time with thank yous. She ripped off her boots and tore from the room, weaving lithely through the remaining crowd.
She sprinted up three flights of stairs and nearly burst through Morgead's front door. And stopped.
Morgead wasn't there. Jez's stomach coiled into a tight knot.
And then she heard the toilet flush.
With a gasp of relief, Jez moved to wait in the doorway of Morgead's bedroom where she waited as she heard him washing his hands. Finally, like he was intentionally moving as slow as possible, Morgead wrestled open the door, gave her a quick once over and grunted, "What's up?"
"You need to come with me," And then she saw he was wearing old clothes that were very, very crumpled and dirty. He had a bed head that screamed, Hey, look at me! I just spent the last day and a half sleeping! and she could smell him from across the room. She cursed.
"Get in the shower," she ordered. "Don't wash your hair." She began sifting through his dresser and pulling out decent clothes for him to wear.
"I'm sorry, what?" he was still standing in the bathroom doorway and looked very unimpressed.
"Please, Morgead," Jez glanced at him with a pained expression. "I don't have time to explain right now, just be quick." She repeated what Colt had told her.
He stared at her for a short moment before he turned and shut the door behind him. A couple seconds later Jez heard the shower turn on and knew Morgead was in. She tried not to think about that.
She pulled out a clean V-neck shirt and ripped black jeans that Morgead didn't wear often. She even scrounged for socks and a fresh pair of boxers. At least, she assumed they were fresh. Bundling it all up, she forced her way into the bathroom just as the shower shut off.
"I'm setting these here, put them on," Jez instructed as she dumbed the bundle on the counter beside the sink and left the bathroom without bothering to close the door.
She returned to the living room and paced in front of the couch. Then she stopped and picked up Morgead's boots to brush the dried mud off.
He came out of his room a minute later dressed in what she'd left for him. Yup, definitely hot.
"I'll explain on the way," she barked, shoving his boots at him.
He pulled them on and laced them up with expert fingers. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
Before Morgead had even finished the knot on his second boot, Jez was grabbing his leather jacket and his arm and dragging him out the door and back down three flights of stairs, all the while letting the general thoughts and images of the past who knows how long she'd been in there flow into Morgead's head behind her. She thought she heard him growl when Ermanno came up.
By the time they burst in the door, Morgead had laughed at her and called her an idiot for being sucked into this, and had even had time to question why Pierce had been the one to drag her in.
Jez had tactfully reminded him that he was now following her into it, which shut him up quickly. That was when they plowed through the door and Colt turned expectantly.
She lead Morgead over to the small clump of people waiting for her return and collected her shoes from Pierce.
"So this is Morgead," Colt mused. He stepped around him and nodded approvingly. "You're right, he'll do." He gave two sharp claps of his hands and called, "Back to work people, we've got our models back."
Out of the corner of her eye, Jez caught sight of a very temperamental looking Ermanno. Whether he was upset about the loss of his modeling gig or at losing his opportunity to try and seduce her, who could tell?
Colt led her and Morgead over to the car, and Morgead whistled appreciatively.
Colt chuckled and asked, "Morgead, you ever model before?"
"Do I look like someone who likes modeling? I'd rather not even be here right now," he scowled down at Jez, who just shrugged.
Colt glanced between them and grinned. "Okay, here's what I want."
He pulled Morgead by the shoulders so that he was leaning back sitting on the hood casually and motioned Jez beside him. He tugged and pushed and prodded the pair until he grinned and backed away triumphantly. He was the only one grinning.
Jez felt like a fool, and Morgead was glancing heavenward regretfully and popping his jaw.
"I hate you," he mumbled.
Jez wasn't surprized. She kind of hated herself at the moment as well.
She was standing facing Morgead with her hair pushed over one shoulder and her leg bent so that her shin lay across Morgead's lap and her inner thigh pressed against his steely abdomen. She had one hand wound through his hair, and the other had been left tracing Morgead's strong jaw. His own hands were what bothered her.
One arm wrapped around her waist and tucked right into her back pocket. And Colt had forcibly dragged Morgead's other hand so that it rested on the outside curve of her chest. The tenseness in his muscles meant he had good pressure, which in turn made Jez tense up and clench his waist with her leg.
They glared. There were pictures taken, and they were allowed to move. Colt forced them into several more positions, all of which were tight and very personal. And while Jez found it even worse than with Pierce, it was Morgead who was having the most trouble.
He kept shifting and pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. He glared and gritted his teeth, and Jez pretended not to notice.
No one else was quite as nice.
"How about we take five?" Colt coughed, obviously trying not to laugh.
Morgead stalked over the refreshment table on the far wall and downed a glass of water, thoroughly cursing Jez and himself for listening to her. He needed to learn to say no. Desperately.
Jez stayed where she was, content to brood without relocating.
Colt approached with an ill-concealed smile. "Are you up for one more posing?"
Jez eyed the older vampire suspiciously. Her piercing gaze snapped to Morgead's rigid form across the room. He was watching her face; probably listening. Though he was scowling, he shrugged.
Jez said, "Sure."
While Morgead threw back another glass of ice water, Pierce stalked up behind Jez. "Having fun?"
She didn't dignify him with a response.
Still, he let out a raspy laugh and made his way across the room to chat up a snack.
"Alright, last thing," Colt announced, looking gleefully at both Jez and Morgead. "It'll be quick."
It was quick. Morgead was resigned, and although hesitant and uncomfortable, the pair got through it fast, infinitely grateful that Pierce had left the studio with the makeup girl.
And then it was over, and Jez and Morgead were signing papers and receiving promises of paychecks and free copies of the magazine, and Morgead was leaving quickly after.
Jez, however, was asked to stay, for an extra hundred. Seduced by the promise of more money, and much to Pierce's cruel delight, Jez was stuffed into a new outfit: black denim shorts that barely surpassed her underwear, a sheer tube top, and thigh high tights. She was given ankle boots and her leather jacket, and her hair was plaited down her back.
There was a new bike that she posed with, another Harley. This one was a Dyna Fat Bob that was a dark, glossy red.
Colt told her she looked a lot more natural on the bike, and had some great solo shots of her that they could use. Jez wasn't surprized.
Pierce had left by the time she was done, and Jez was thankful. Back in her frumpy sweats on her way out, she stopped by the shoot that Colt was orchestrating and watched without much interest for several minutes before she inched next to him and cleared her throat.
He waved for them to keep going, and stepped away with Jez when she motioned.
"I was wondering," she mumbled, feeling severely hot-faced. "Maybe, if you could send my extra hundred to Morgead instead. Just 'cause I kinda dragged him into this," she defended quickly. Cracking her knuckles and glaring out the window, she muttered, "You probably shouldn't mention that part though. Let him think he just got that much for it."
Smiling to himself, Colt agreed and thanked Jez for saving that month's magazine. She snorted and left quickly, eager to get home and go back to lying on the couch and watching TV.
It had been two weeks since the photoshoot in the first floor studio in Morgead's building. The magazine issue had been printed, and both Morgead and Jez had been sent paychecks and a free copy as promised.
The gang had had a good laugh about the magazine, as Morgead, Jez, and Pierce were all featured.
Pierce sat astride a sleek silver sportster with one bikini clad vermin girl draped off of either side of him. He told them he'd fed on both.
Morgead and Jez had appeared as they'd known they would in front of that powerful-looking Stingray. It was the first photo they'd done – Morgead's hands all over Jez and her leg clenched onto Morgead's waist. The whole gang had laughed unnecessarily hard, Morgead thought. Jez just cursed them loudly.
Finally was Jez's solo shot on the bike. It wasn't just an article here, like the car had been. They'd let Jez get on it and maneuver it how she liked. They'd actually gone out to the parking lot to shoot this, and the black of the asphalt was a good background for the shot. It was a low angle of her just seconds after skidding into a stop at an angle to the camera. Her leg was out, bracing the bike and looking incredibly long and smooth as it extended towards the camera, and there was a fierce and windblown look in her eyes. Jez's favourite part was the skid marks she'd left in the background.
The gang cooed and laughed at that picture. Not even Morgead or Pierce had seen that one.
"You look so hot, Jez. Don't you think?" Thistle giggled, jabbing her pointy little elbow into Morgead's ribs.
Grunting irritably was all he did.
But it was after that that Jez received the second envelope from Colt. It just so happened that Morgead was with her when she walked through her kitchen and saw the letter on the table.
Both curious as to what was inside, they pulled up chairs and dumped the contents of the envelope out onto the table. It was two pictures. One of them had fallen out upside down, but Jez and Morgead were both staring at the first one.
Jez felt her cheeks heating up and tried to fight it by looking away. Morgead worked his jaw beside her, but remained staring at the photo.
It had been the most awkward and yet . . . breathtaking one that they'd taken. Neither needed to look at it, both remembered it perfectly. Jez was close between Morgead's legs, hands on either side of his head – tangling in his hair, on his cheek, brushing his sooty eyelashes. Her stomach had roiled so much that she'd been unable to look him in the eye and had glued her eyes to his shoulder instead. The effect was a set of sultry, hooded eyes that seemed to be gazing down at his face. Morgead had his hands resting feather-light at her hips, with strands of Jez's hair tucked between his fingers. He had pulled up one leg to rest his heavy boot on the top of the tire he perched beside, and stared with a look of painful longing up at Jez's downturned face.
There was natural light seeping in from the open hangar door that made the photo glow golden around the edges, lighting up the pair from behind and giving the entire photo a faintly golden shade.
Morgead swallowed hard. He remained staring at the picture while Jez picked up the overturned one.
She blinked in surprize, but quickly tucked it back inside the envelope.
Morgead glanced over and nodded to the envelope she was folding neatly closed. "What was that one?"
"Nothing," Jez shook her head. "Just one of me doing a wheelie on the bike."
"Lemme see."
"No way, I look so bad. I think I'll burn it."
Morgead snorted and Jez laughed. She shifted awkwardly and stood up, pushing the picture of the two of them closer to him.
"You can take this."
Morgead hummed and glanced balefully at the photo. He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment and muttered, "I guess."
Jez nodded and cleared her throat uncomfortably. She'd never really felt the need to ask Morgead to leave before, but she found herself suddenly trying to figure out how to do just that.
Luckily, he stood up and motioned helplessly, saying, "I've got to get home and get out of these clothes, they're kinda gross."
Jez nodded her head a smidgen too enthusiastically, laughing, "Yeah me too. I think I smell." She gave an experimental sniff at her armpit for good measure.
Morgead rolled his eyes and let himself out while Jez took the stairs two at a time until she slammed the door to her room and collapsed on her bed, hugging the envelope to her chest.
Meanwhile, Morgead was speeding on his way back to his apartment. He couldn't walk past the first floor now without thinking of that supremely awkward photoshoot in more ways than one. But now . . . the picture.
Why on earth had Pierce's "friend" though it was a good idea to send that? And more importantly, to Jez? And that second photo . . . Morgead didn't believe what Jez had told him. But in light of the situation, he hadn't wanted to push the subject.
Morgead lay back on his bed, staring at the picture. He remembered the feeling of her cool hands hovering over his face at first, just barely touching, and then panning across his cheek ever so lightly. The little tug of her fingers in his hair, and the gentle press of her hip against his inner thigh.
He wanted to pin it up, tape it to his wall. Blow it up too big or paint it as a mural. But he couldn't. He would hide it. He had to.
Inside his pillow slip would do. Jez wouldn't look in there. She respected the right to hid things, despite her constant rummaging through his drawers. In fact, she knew he hid things in his pillowcases every so often; he knew she did. But she never looked; he knew that too.
So that was where he put it, praying that he wouldn't disfigure it while he slept.
He was falling asleep now, it was late. But his mind drifted back to that second photo, the one Jez had kept, claiming she would burn it. And he wondered . . .
Jez lay awake staring the picture she was holding even though it was dark. The second picture.
She'd never even noticed it being taken.
It was of her and Morgead, obviously. It was taken after their photoshoot was finished. They'd been waiting for the papers to be brought over, and were sitting on the hood of the car. No fancy model sitting, they were pushed right back to the windshield, with their legs pulled up and leaning back on their hands while they talked. Jez had kicked off her boots and sat barefoot and cross-legged beside Morgead. He was leaning back on his arms with his outside leg pulled up so the sole of his boot rested against the inside of his knee, and his other leg dangled off the nose of the car.
They were both grinning, unconsciously leaning into each other; trying to laugh off the intense shot they'd just done. That beautiful golden light from the door was still there, bathing them both in a warm glow.
It was a beautiful picture, and Jez loved it. She wanted to hang it with her other pictures, but she couldn't. She wouldn't.
She'd lied to Morgead about it, but it was more than that. Jez felt the desire to keep it private, just like she'd though the moment to be.
It would be hers; and hers alone to keep.
BONUS : an explanation as to why our cold hearted and reserved little Pierce is modeling for this dude XD
So lets say that this dude, Colt, met Pierce when they were both out at a Night Norld club, like the Black Iris. They were talking and junk and Colt told Pierce about his job working for the magazine. He mentions how most of the crew are vermin and all the models are Night Worlders, and since he's a "fair businessman" he even pays the humans extra for whatever blood the vampires take, not that he tells them, they just think they're getting payed really well. So it's a pretty chill company controlled by Night people. Pierce agrees that it's pretty cool and suggests the studios in Morgead's building when Colt mentions that his studio was double booked for the next shoot and they'd been kicked out. Colt then oh so graciously offers Pierce a spot in the shoot, immense paycheck and free food included *wink wink*. Having nothing better to do, Pierce actually agrees and goes through with it because why not, right?
ok anyhow i hope you enjoyed even if this made minimal sense... OH also thanks thecoldrose7 for your reviews :) and remember that reviews are open for eeeveryone *creepy smile*