<div align=center> This roleplay is based on the Blue Bloods series by Melissa de la Cruz. For information about series-specific details mentioned in the scene, feel free to check out Wiki articles on the series or beautifulLIE's more concise summary of the various character roles such as conduits via the link in her signature! </div> This was what she missed. Personal freedom. These days it was pretty hard to come by -her father's new charge followed her without fail, proving himself more than capable at his job of conduit and, beyond that, incredibly annoying in general. Rachelle prided herself on slipping out that evening unnoticed if only because making it past her assigned baby-sitter was nearly impossible. Infuriating, actually. She'd left the hills of sunny Los Angeles for dreary, rainy New York to get away from the controlling hand of her parents and find the space to create her history, determined to defeat what had thus far been a depressing several years of blossoming into the powerful Blue Blood she had been so many cycles before. Instead, she was forced to accomodate a man who frankly was the most hollow human being she'd ever met. Rachelle had certainly never thought red bloods the least bit interesting -they were food, really, and otherwise boring, stupid creatures. She'd be lying if she suggested that she believed Jesiphe D'Vorn was the latter, but the former was definitely inarguable. At first, she'd thought he hated his job, but his dedication proved her wrong and instead only cemented her suspicions that he was just simply a man with no passion. At all. That simple fact had made her a bitter, anxious mess -not just that she had a conduit in the first place, not even that he was such an 'employee of the month', but that he didn't seem to be affected whatsover by her constant attempts to manipulate him to get her way. It had always been fail-safe -it was her special gift, as the angel of temptation, to get what she wanted when she wanted it from whomever she wanted it from, and yet...here he stood, an impenetrable wall that was not only immune to the usual male Achilles Heel of ego-wounding, but also apparently any advances she made physically. Was he gay? She doubted it, but at the same time, Rachelle knew that she was no ugly step-sister to be ignored so easily. It was puzzling, irksome! What was she supposed to do with that? But it didn't matter tonight. She wouldn't let it. This evening was the first in nearly two months that she'd managed to use her charms to weasel away without his knowing, and as she stepped foot into the club, the ear-splitting music washed over her like a welcome breeze. The bouncer at the door opened his mouth to ask for her ID, but she glanced over, reaching through her golden amber eyes with the glom to heel his reflexes. Instead of requesting proof of her age, he only smiled and waved her dumbly through into the main room. She, for her part, cast him a cursory coy smile and slithered into the bright lights that bounded off the mirrored walls, her body instantly lithe and boneless with the base that pounded through her veins. This felt so good! This sort of adventure was what she'd wanted from New York. Rachelle felt for a moment in a cloud of euphoria and she realized just how trapped she'd become. School, home. School, home. Honestly? Ugh. She was just as guilty of being boring as Jesse. That thought disgusted her enough that she dropped her small clutch and jacket to the floor near the bar, failing to care if it was there later as her father's credit card was safely tucked in her bra. Slender fingers plucked a flute of some colorful concoction of vodka that nearly glowed in the dim flashes of light and she made her way into the throng of dancing bodies, spinning between backs and fronts effortlessly until she found her own little niche. The drink was downed like a shot and the glass handed off to some convenient cocktail waitress as she tossed her dark chocolate curls over her shoulder and danced with herself, catching the eyes of various fellow patrons of the club but isinterested in having a partner for the moment -no, this night was about her, no one else, nothing else. Her mini-dress glistened with a spattering of obnoxious sequins (she'd saved it for just such an impressive occasion), and she basked in the attention it drew to her. Oh, she did love the attention. She curved her figure around a body or two and pushed a hard body away gently, discouraging his vicinity but not his affections, her captivating irises keeping a nice little group around her while others pressed onto the floor. Rachelle smiled brilliantly, a little laugh echoing from her lips but soundless in the mass of noise and bodies. She spun on her heels, dug her hands into her hair and lifted it from her back where heat was radiated from bare skin with the activity around her, within her. This was what she wanted -exactly what she wanted. And no one was here to take it from her.
<div align=center><span style='font-size:15pt;line-height:100%'>THERE'S A FINE LINE BETWEEN LOVE & HATE <span style='font-size:17pt;line-height:100%'>SOMETHING'S JUST ABOUT TO BREAK</span></span> JESSE D'VORN. CHARACTER CREATED IN JAN 2008. POSTED 1648 WORDS </div> Jesse had been outside Rachelle's night class when she got through at 9:00pm. He had her schedule memorized, knew every move she made. It was his job; to keep her safe. He'd been waiting since his Philosophy class had ended early, around 8:30. No matter how much he had wanted to get back to his apartment on the outskirts of Central Park and do his own thing he'd stayed. He was bound by his oath, his duty to protect her... and lately that concept had becoming easier and easier to tolerate. Rachelle, or "Ryan" as he now called her when he wanted to effectively get under her skin, had once been an assignment he loathed, yet over the last few months he'd begun to look forward to seeing her more and more. Once only seeing her as a self absorbed party girl, he was beginning to see through her tough, Gucci adorned exterior. She was hard as nails and didn't take s*** from anyone, least of all him. And somehow in the back of his mind that was wildly alluring. That thought wasn't comforting or exciting as it would have been for any other man in his position. In fact, it filled him with dread. He was used to falling for girls. Well, let's be honest. He was used to using and abusing girls. He wasn't a conduit 24/7. Unknown to Ryan, he was also a part time bartender at The Bank nightclub and the job came with perks. He was never without company, his bed never empty. Yet these were uncharted waters; forbidden territory. She was a path he could simply not afford to travel down. Being a conduit, a vampire guardian was what he had worked his entire life to become. Not only was she his responsibility, but it was forbidden by vampire law to fraternize with one's charge. He wasn't about to throw his life away on some fleeting attraction. So he'd kept his stoic demeanor. He'd been more irritable, and an even bigger pain in her ass than necessary to create a gap between them. She didn't have to like him. They didn't have to get along. In fact, it would make things easier. If he was too busy hating her, he couldn't possibly let her get any closer. Sure, she'd tried to use flirtation to get things her way... but he was used to girls flinging themselves in his path and he'd been able to stand firm. So when she'd stepped into the hallway that night and his heart had skipped a beat he'd effectively ignored the emotion and went on the defensive. They'd argued as usual, throwing jab after jab at one another. "Stop stalking me." "Well, well... Gavison. You're in high spirits this evening." "Shove it up your --" "Now, now. Daddy wouldn't like to hear such fowl words coming from the mouth of his darling daughter, would he? He'd be shocked, I dare say!" The blatant sarcasm. Lips spouting venom. It was their routine and while anyone listening in would have been taken aback he could feel himself relax into the comfortable spew of insults. It was their norm and he'd found himself thinking up witty comebacks when his mind began to wonder in the middle of the day. God, that was another habit that definitely wasn't helping with his whole 'avoid letting her get to you' master plan. He found himself forcing away the smirks she brought to his face. Stay serious. No emotion. She's a job. At the end of their conversation, after they took a cab back to her apartment together he asked her what her plans were for the night. Usually she liked to go out and he'd accompany her to a party, charity event, or other such snobby social event. He'd undoubtedly hate it, she'd capitalize on that fact, and then they'd go home. More routine. So when she told him she'd be "turning in early". Or as she so eloquently put it, "I'm turning in early because your nagging is exhausting me." He had to admit to himself that he was relieved. He need to clear his head and one of his co-workers at the Bank had called in sick. He would be able to throw himself into drying glasses and serving drinks instead of the one person he really needed a break from thinking about... So he'd taken a cab back to his apartment, called in to tell work he could fill in, and hopped into the shower. A cold shower. Then he'd stuck a knife in his boot, put one of many guns around the house in his ankle holster, threw on his worn leather jacket and went out the door. No he wasn't permitted to bring such things to work, and yet it had never stopped him. He had ways around such nonsense. Normal human laws had stopped really mattering to him right around the time he took the conduit job. Once ready he whizzed through the NYC lights in a yellow taxi which pulled up to The Bank with a screeching of tires on the pavement, still wet from the recent rainfall. He arrived just in time. The late night crowd was just beginning to filter in, the floor already covered the writhing bodies. The smell of sweat and the sweet tang of alcohol clung to the air. Oddly enough, it made him feel at home. The bouncer, recognizing him as a member of staff, let him through easily and he made his way through the throng to the bar which was lit with red and blue lights from beneath thick, frosted glass. One of the bartenders he knew well was also on shift. There were always two of them each shift, and he called out, letting an easy smile shift in place across his face. The shower had done him good. He could start over after seeing Ryan. He could slip out of his 'body guard' persona and relax, let go like all these party goers were doing. Something he could never do when Ryan was around. He jumped the counter in one swift motion, his forearm straining momentarily with his weight, the veins bulging slightly. He was in too good a mood to use the swinging counter. Needless to say, this swift move caught the attention of a busty blond not far into the crowd and he could see the decision to pursue him flash across her features. The bartender beside him teased him with a glance and he just smirked back. What could he say? He was a hell of a salesman and already pouring the blond a shot before she reached the bar. "Vodka?" He asked, placing it before her. "Are you a mind reader?" She cooed, red lipstick already slightly smudged, probably by some random stranger who had been all too happy to oblige in her need for his kiss. "Pretty girl like you? Vodka every time." He replied with a wink, holding up a few fingers to indicate the price. She nodded and slammed a few bills down on the counter before repeating the process with a shot and her throat. He just put his hand out and pulled the bills out from under her palm. One down.... hundreds to go. The bar was never wanting for attention. "When yoouuu get offf, darrrlin'?" She slurred, trying to bat her eyelashes but only managing to look like she had some strange drunken twitch. "Late. Really late. Man's gotta work." He shrugged, putting on his best 'oh what a shame' face. He was a good actor. That was for sure. Good at acting like he had any interest at all in that drunken mess. Good at pretending he didn't care at all for a certain trim brunette... Don't. Think. About. Her. As if it were that easy. Luckily, the next hour was spent in a swarm of party goers. Filling & washing glasses, wooing the patrons, running a dish rag over the counter to keep it from becoming a sticky mess. Yet again doing his job... only this one was mind numbingly relaxing. It gave him a short reprieve from the chaos and he found he was finally beginning to enjoy himself. At least he was... until a familiar chocolate-brown haired whirl wind danced past his bar and disappeared into the crowd. For a second he wasn't sure if he'd seen it right. She'd been on his mind. Could he be imagining things? Bodies parted for mere seconds and he caught another glimpse. Nope. Definitely her. He'd recognize that conniving, little treacherous b**** anywhere. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. The man in front of him turned around, trying to catch what he was looking at and he turned back to Jesse with a questioning look. "See the root of all evil, man?" He joked, chuckling to himself. "Yea, you could say that." He replied automatically, distracted, still looking off into the crowd, searching for Ryan who had now disappeared back into the sea of people. He threw his rag at the other bartender and she nodded, catching it in one hand. She'd just taken her break and it had slowed to a steady flow. She would survive a moment alone. He pulled up the counter where it was hinged into a makeshift doorway, his movements a bit too rigid and forced. He was slipping back into lethal guardian mode. He could feel it in his core. Not only that, but now he was livid. She'd lied. Straight out lied. He couldn't say he was surprised. She was a devil in disguise... But that didn't change his reaction. He was running on instinctual reaction, fueled by adrenaline, driven by a force far from logic. He moved throw the crowd, making little attempt to blend in, scanning face after face for the source of his malice.
She was a beautiful brunette disco ball in her silver sheath, drawing attention with each swing of her slender hips. The grace of her classical ballet combined with the beat to create a woman who seemed to know exactly how to manipulate the crowd -and, to be fair, she did. Her eyes were careful golden flickers on those around her, and she registered all of their movements to calculate their importance as she danced, appearing unaware to anyone else of the subtle actions going on around her. Rachelle caught the smoldering glance of a nearby man, the stare of a woman envying her dress, and the look from another wanting only to make his date jealous -it was her pleasure to turn each of these passing stares into envy. It was the envy that made people so eager to please her. She hardly had to say a thing to promise them the stars -silly red bloods were far too easily used. Her limbs moved with her body for a few more moments until the music slowed just slightly and she noticed that she was a bit parched. Rachelle disappeared easily between the throng of dancing partiers with her tiny figure and to the edge of the floor, where she located a cocktail waitres and another shot quickly before taking the colorful glass to her pile of belongings and downing it. Setting the flute to her side, not particularly caring what happened to it, she dug into her clutch for the small bottle of water she'd brought and took a long drink. No way in hell did she trust anyone with a glass of anything around a place like this -she was pretty, but not stupid, and open glasses that didn't instantly disappear like her shots were a very bad idea. She wondered idly if silly drugs really did all the bad they were known for to vampires, but knew it was better not to take a chance and find out. As petulant as she was, as reckless as she could be, there were some things that Rach would not risk. Standing and smoothing her garmet, she used a hair tie she'd pulled from the small bag as well to pull her lengthy, thick hair into a pony that hung in a cascade of dense curl down to the low seam of her backless dress. It tickled a bit, but it was cooler in the heat of crushing bodies that she promptly returned to. The lower base of the current song made it easier for her to hear everything around her -in particular, the pulses of all the humans that had joined her to dance. Some were quick, thin with alcohol. Some were thick with drugs. Others only made her own heart leap faster in her chest. Rachelle realized very suddenly just how hungry she was -her agitation had kept her from paying much attention, but it was dreadfully difficult to get a meal in with Jesse standing over her at every possible moment. She only eaten in front of him once, but the innate intimacy of the bite and the usual situation it produced had made his sitting in her apartment while she went about her business down the hall. How was that comfortable? The thought made her face twist in momentary disgust before her eyes caught a thing of beauty a few people away. Ooo, he was glorious. Veiny. She couldn't help but laugh at herself -of course, in this sudden turn of mood, anyone with muscles and bulging blood vessels would draw her attention. Even still, he wasn't bad on the eyes. He'd been watching her earlier, too. Rachelle slunk through the crowd and circled him like a predator to prey. Thank God Jesse wouldn't be there when she got back, because hopefully, she'd have someone to join her, something to help ease this tension stiffening her pretty shoulders and causing her dance instructor at The Ballet to criticize her posture every hour of rehearsal. It was all his fault. Pity, too, because if she didn't hate him so damn much, she would have thought him...handsome? Pah, no, too gentlemanly. Sexy was much more fitting. It was such a waste of man...as her hands brushed over her new toy's muscles, she sighed inwardly. If Jesse could be manipulated like this one, how much easier would her life be? If she could sink her proverbial teeth into him, get through that rough exterior and mold him into something that would benefit instead of hinder her...but even the thought of that made her strangely uncomfortable. It didn't matter, though. It didn't matter at all. She moved around the man under her hands in one swift turn and pressed her body against his, a secretive smile on her lips, a wisp of hair falling from her crown into her eyes and catching briefly in her silk-spun lashes. He grinned, put his own hands on her small hips, pulling her into him as she moved. God, he smelled good. Rachelle turned, pressed her back against him, a hand sliding around his neck as she swivelled her body with his, the music, the lights glinting off of her dress brilliantly. She lifted her eyes to the heavens to laugh but was stopped midway by a flash in the crowd that made her stomach drop. No. No, no, no. Her body continued to move wth the man behind her while her eyes scanned the crowd expertly like a hawk, searching for the man she thought he'd seen. How did he know? Had that bastard followed her? The thought made her blood run hot with fury. He was insufferable! Ugh! Suddenly full of cold empathy and caring very little whether or not he was around at all, Rachelle turned back into the hard wall she was dancing with, buried her elegant hands into his hair, and pressed her lips shamelessly against his, her glom reaching into his mind to fuel her own flames with his humming emotional response.
As it turns out, people can be hard to find when they have another human being plastered to their face. And as you can imagine, when Jesse discovered the one currently being groped and sucking face was his one and only charge... things did not bode well. When he spotted them he was approaching from behind the young man's shoulder. Unsure if it was Rachelle at first, he stepped to the side, moving around them for a closer look. He probably looked like an awkward, somewhat angry, desperate man on the hunt of a unsuspecting female to dance with but he didn't much care. Sure it was her, his eyes narrowed in on the man who was currently running his hands all over her. His anger flared, his eyes narrowing in on the man's hands on her hips, her behind, the small of her back. He felt sick, his stomach churning. He'd never felt this way, never let a girl have this monumental an effect on him. What was wrong with him?! He forced himself to count to ten. One. Two. Breathin in. Three. Four. Oh f*** it. He charged ahead and pulled them apart, taking the man's arm and dragging him off her. He could already see the hatred flaring in her eyes as the slobbery man was disengaged. Urgh. If he was going to kiss his charge couldn't he at least get it right?! She was disgracing herself with this loser. "Let's go." He ordered her, not even looking at the man she was with. Instead, he gave him his back, placing himself in front of Ryan. He was no threat and he honestly didn't care. He was just meat to Ryan and he knew it. He knew that look in her eye. He'd sat there outside the door while she fed and he was well aware of the reality of what she was. He took a step towards her, her eyes meeting his chest due to their height difference, hoping to make her move towards the exit. He knew he was in for hell for this later, but he was willing to wager the 50% chance that she might make the smart choice and avoid making a scene in the club. Too bad her dancing partner didn't have the same good sense. Really a shame, seeing as Jesse's temper was running high. "Hey mang, get yo' own partner." He growled. Jesse didn't move, ignoring him, an impenetrable wall. He would have laughed at his attempt if he'd been in a different frame of mind. The kid needed to learn to speak bloody English like the rest of the free world. What he did next however, wouldn't get Jesse laughing under any circumstances. He reached around Jesse, trying to push his way to Ryan, hands out in front of him like a wobbly toddler after something he wanted. Jesse frowned and gave Ryan a quick glance that clearly said, "What do you have to pick the foolish humans?" There was one thing you didn't do with Jesse. Defy an order by he himself. Or get in his space. When you guard someone as your life's work you get a bit touchy about your space and that of your charge. He didn't care about the fact that the man's eyes were still glazed over with the effects of the glom: the vampire voodoo Ryan had used on his mind. He was in no mood. Moving gracefully for a man of his size he stepped swiftly to the side and used the man's momentum to propel him forward, past the both of them and into the crowd where he landed atop another guy that was dancing with a bucktoothed redhead. He turned back to Rachelle, still disinterested in her suitor. He would be willing to bet money he could take the kid with both hands behind his back. "Now!" He barked, loud enough so she could hear him over the music blasting from speakers overhead. By now a few people were beginning to look their way. The trance beat moved quickly, in time with his racing heart. Mr. Keep-His-Hands-To-Himself was getting up with the help of the guy he'd fallen into. The guy seemed concerned. Perhaps they were friends. Maybe they'd cause trouble. He could use a good fight because right now he desperately needed to blow off some steam. He knew he wasn't thinking logically. If he was just doing his job he would have texted Rachelle, told her she was busted and to not leave alone. Then he would have watched her from afar, made sure she was okay and let her do all the groping she wanted. But no. He had to let himself loose it. After a month of build up, of longing that he'd tried so hard to suppress he had to break. Break all his cold, calculated rules. Damn it. Later on he'd dwell on the fact that he'd let emotions get involved. He'd try to figure out what all this meant. But right now he'd rather fight off that realization with blind anger. When Ryan didn't move and the two men seemed to have gotten their wits about them he lost his patience. He wasn't above dragging her out, it just wasn't quite the subtle style he preferred. Plus, there was always keeping his job to worry about. With his reputation he could probably smooth talk his way out of a brawl and disrupting the peace... but he'd really rather not find out. "Last time I'm going to ask, Rachelle." He demanded, pulling her close enough to hiss in her ear, mouth almost touching her ear.
Oh, the glom made him sloppy...sad. Still, Rachelle was far too absorbed by just how badly she wanted to drag this one into a nearby closet or something of the sort to notice Jesse's circling, only how unpleasant being torn from her meal was in the midst of her little fantasy. She blinked in disbelief. He was not supposed to be here! Her eyes bore like daggers into him from beneath her flared lashes, her lips pursed into an impossible line, her hands fisted at the ends of her stiffened arms. Was he serious? This was protecting her?! She was kissing her dinner, for Christ's sake! His order did nothing to help his cause. Rachelle scoffed. "Excuse me?!" Her low, angry voice was drowned in the noise of the crowd, but she didn't move an inch, the stand off between them evident as a crowd started to form -especially when the poor, stupid red blood stumbled back dumbly for more punishment. She watched as Jesse pushed him off, running her tongue irritatedly over her lips, putting her hands finally on her hips and glaring as though she wanted to set him afire. This would have been laughable had she not hated him so very, very much. The crowd that began to gather after his second command, which was met with an incredulous laugh on her part, only surged her adrenaline further, and she lifted her chin in a petulant, proud gesture to defy him. If he wanted to make a scene, then let him, but this was her night, an he was interrupting. He was ruining every inch of fun -the joy of the evening was sucked from the air as though he toted a black hole in his pocket. Rachelle opened her mouth to tell him in a few unpleasant words to leave, but before she could respond, he'd grabbed her, and she froze. He'd threatened her before, they'd battled verbally, but he had yet to lay a hand on her. His grip was strong, and while she thought she could escape in less crowded circumstances, the crowd around them was too overwhelming -not that she minded a scene, but she'd rather it be somewhere less packed...more space for her to throw things. Yes. The grip on her arm turned into what could only be described as an attempt on Jesse's part to diffuse any thoughts on the part of those around them that she wanted him dead, that they could feel free to pack him off into oblivion like pitchfork waving vigilantes, because the moment their bodies touched she had to stifle and little gasp of surprise -both at his motion, and just how very muscular he was. Good night...she truly regretted now that he was such an ***hole, that as much as goosebumps rose on her arms her mind repelled the very idea of them being so close. She was about to push him away, too, in that small span of seconds, when he put his lips to her ear and uttered his third command. She felt her body relax in response to the breath on her sensitive skin, and stifled the urge to simultaneously run away and melt. Nuetral. Stay nuetral. What the f*** was he doing?! Rachelle felt his grip loosen, too busy being pissed to appreciate that he'd actually used her name instead of the horribly common little moniker he'd coined, and quickly jerked free, giving him a look from the depths of hell and tossing her pony tail, marching from the dance floor and bending to grab her jacket and clutch in one smooth motion as she made her way out. Wanting to avoid the front door, she chose instead to leave via the ally, and pushed roughly through the back door. She was so involved in getting out that she nearly walked into the car parked there -a black firebird. Jesse's black firebird. "Seriously?!" Her father had picked a winner with this one. She'd imagined he'd pick some lackey for the committee that she could easily get rid of, use, push around. Instead, she'd gotten a f****** robot -a heartless soldier for the conduits, their general, and he was battling her for power every step of the way. It was exhausting, but by no means would she accept defeat. He had no right by any handbook to march into that club and rip her away from a meal like a damn gorilla. His job was to keep her safe from physical harm, not to keep her from making out and having a meal later as a result. His job was to watch over her, not follow her like a lost puppy with that stoic look on his face. She'd gathered herself and made it a few steps past her car before she heard the door, and, unable to keep it in, the fallen angel rounded hotly on her enemy, throwing her things on the back of his car as she marched forward. The closer she got, the closer she came to the recent memory of his mouth on her ear. No, no, no! "The last time you'll ask me? Since when do you ask?! Honestly?! What the f***, Jesse?! Nowhere in that damn handbook you quote like the Bible does it say you can command me to do a f****** thing!"
Jesse couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief as he started after her through the throng of people. Thank god. A scene outside was always better than one in the middle of a crowd. He tossed his coworker a glance and noticed the man he'd had to cover for was just coming on shift. He'd only needed about half of his night covered so he could visit a sick relative or something. Honestly he didn't remember but apparently Jesse was in luck tonight. One less thing to worry about. Skipping out on work wasn't exactly something he would be proud of... even if he was technically no longer totally a part of the human world. "Hey, we're not finished!" The vein-on-tap called from behind him. Hell yes, they were finished. Jes didn't dignify him with a response, resisting the urge to throw up his middle finger in defiance. Get to Ryan. Don't let her do anything rash. Like run out into oncoming traffic. Oh, if only. He sighed and plunged ahead, weaving his way through the crowd. The DJ turned the music up a notch, encouraging those who had been distracted by their display to get back into the swarm. He didn't feel anyone on his heels, so the fraternity wannabe must have chosen the healthy route of finding another dance partner. He watched Ryan ahead of him bend at the waist in a flash of movement to grab her belongings, trying hard to ignore the grace her slender body exuded in the motion. That woman could make a wood post look attractive. He passed the bar on their way out and he was handed his jacket from behind the bar. "Disgruntled ex?" She questioned him as he snatched it sharply and gave her an exasperated look. "Something like that." He had played the role of her date when they went to functions. It wasn't that much of a blatant lie. Oh who was he kidding? It most definitely was. His lines of what a lie was and was not had just begun to blur as of late. He frowned and labeled it as another one of those trades of his workk he just wasn't going to think about. "Thanks." He finished before she could ask more and slid the leather monstrosity of a jacket over his shoulders, extracting his car keys from the pocket as he did so. Last night he'd worked the early shift and it had been a nice day so he'd decided to walk the twelve blocks back to his apartment, leaving his car in the lot. Ryan was already out the door when he made his exit, huffing and puffing in rage the entire way. Here it comes, he thought, bracing himself for an all out temper tantrum. "The last time you'll ask me? Honestly? What the f***, Jesse?! Nowhere in that damn handbook you quote like the Bible does it say you can command me to do a f***ing thing!" And she was right. God she was livid. He could almost see the smoke pouring from his ears, her face growing red. His blood boiled. She was the liar, the one who was supposed to be in bed! Who cares if he technically didn't have the 'right'. She was being reckless and defying the law her father had laid. "Being a little hypocritical don't you think!? I'm not the only one breaking the god damn rules princess!! He spit the last word out like a curse. He always used that word to get to her. Heir to a fortune it was exactly what she was and everything he hated. Preppy little rich girl with not a bit of common sense. "What did your father say?! Oh, that's right! I accompany you to every social event. You think I enjoy your snobby little charities?! No, I f***in' don't thank you very much! The least you can do is keep to your end of the bargain!" He continued, hammering away at her with every step. "You should thank me for godssake! For saving you from that hack! Did he even hit puberty yet?! God woman, have some decency!" He charged forward. The more he talked, the more angry he became. "How was I supposed to know when I took this job that I was going to be guarding NYC's biggest girl!?" Emphasis on the girl. He'd been following her around for nearly two months now. He wasn't stupid. Her bed wasn't suffering from cold. He snarled, hands fisting at his sides. His breath, hot and heavy could be heard sliding over his teeth as he breathed out forcefully, trying to calm himself, to no avail. He hated her. Hated. Hate.
Rachelle stood rigid while he railed at her, taking it without flinching. She'd never cared what anyone had to say, but as he spat the word 'princess', she clenched her fists at her sides much like he, too, was doing. His criticism of her decency was enough to make her scoff and roll her eyes, and then...those same eyes, darkened now like smoldering ashes on a fire, glared none too kindly as she hissed between her teeth. "Excuse me?" It was devastatingly calm considering what she was feeling. A girl? She was extremely selective about who she slept with -and she always had been. Illecebra only did the deed with those that could offer her power, and in this life, as Rachelle, she was no different. No, no -just because she fooled around with a few of her familiars before feeding and happened to get a kiss from a boy on occasion did not mean she was a girl. The vampire closed the distance between herself and Jesse, which he'd aready minimized, in a few short steps, fearlessly facing off with him in the glow of the flickering lamp that gave her luminous pale skin an even more visible tint of fury. "How dare you." She stared defiantly up at him, his clenched jaw, his shadow of a beard, her stomach somersaulting with anger and -attraction? She'd always had a thing for tempers. Too bad. "You know, Jesse, if you would stop being such a f****** robotic ***hole, maybe you'd see a few things you seem to have looked over. I'm no girl. I have not ****ed one of the people you've seen in my apartment, because, frankly, they're just not important enough." She knew he'd like that one. Insert sardonic smirk. "And my personal life, regardless, is mine, and I will do what I please. I don't need a baby-sitter, and I don't give a s*** what my father told you, what he's paying you, or how much you think you have a right to do what you're doing! You don't!" Her voice got progressively louder as she continued as she lost the cold ire and it blossomed into unadulterated rage. She could feel the hate that rolled from him in waves. He was certainly just as pissed as she was, but why? Because he couldn't control her? She wasn't stupid either -Rachelle had seen how he was with women. How dare he criticize her when he himself was just the same. A wicked smirk curved her lips as she took a few steps back, and she laughed bitterly, leaning against his car, legs propped out and ankles crossed, one arm set across her stomach. Oh, this was just priceless. Opening her eyes, lashes low with the thrill of being able to hold something so beautiful over his head, she spoke again. "You think you're this knight in shining armor, that I should beg you to keep me safe. You want me to need you. Think about it D'Vorn -how much we're alike. Neither of us need a damn thing. I do find it fascinating, however, that you're bed is much busier than mine and you're calling me the girl. That's just precious." Bastard. She stood and marched to him, hands on her hips, smiling viciously. "I may be a spoiled princess, as you call it, but at least I can feel. I can feel, Jesse, and all you can do is hope that by the grace of God, one day, you will thaw the hell out and stop being such a cold-hearted d***!" With that, she turned her heel, and, pausing at the end of the car to grab her things, turned to glance over her shoulder. Speaking cooly, she added, "I'll be taking myself home, thanks."
God that was so like her. Twist his words, spin it around so that he got stuck with the blame and she didn't have to take any responsibility for her actions. He scoffed, frowning the more she went on. His jaw dropped slightly, hanging open in shock. She knew very little about his bed. Sure he'd had girls approaching him quite openly when they were out, but he'd made sure to keep his mind on his job. She must have heard about his past through the rumor mill, which NYC was forever encouraging. She moved away from him, ending her speech with a threat to take herself home. She wasn't getting out of it that easily. "Oh, and I can't feel?! Is that it!?" Because you know so much about me right?" His anger hit it's peak as she moved away from him and instinct had his feet moving, closing the distance. His arm flying out to stop her, he blocked her against the car, pulling her against the back passenger window. He pushed a finger to her face, an accusation. "You think you can prod and poke... you can try to manipulate me into getting your way constantly... you can flaunt countless men, all of whom you are 'not sleeping with'... and that means you know me?! Ha! You're just mad because for once, you've found someone that doesn't swoon and worship at your feet. Someone, who unlike you, can't be swayed by money, power, or prestige!!" He was ranting and he knew it, grasping at straws, berating her only to avoid the terrible truth. What he wasn't saying was what truly mattered to him. That although she was manipulative, a complete b****, spoiled, power hungry... and utterly intolerable, there was something about the way her faults and gifts combined that made her all together alluring. There was something about the curve of her cheeks, the look in her eye that hinted at a person that could be so much more if only she'd get past her pig-headedness enough to try. She was beautiful with the world at her fingertips with one of the strongest wills of anyone he'd ever know. But by God was she stubborn. "Let's face it. You don't give a damn about who I am and you've never tried. I'm nothing more than a robot because that's all I'll ever be and all you've ever let yourself see!" His mind was spinning, out of control. He was so confused. One moment he wanted to wrap her in his arms and apologize, something he rarely did even with family and friends. The next he wanted to pick her up and shake her, make her realize she was a silly little girl who was acting like a fool. It built, and built, until his body just reacted. "You're so stupid!" He heard himself say as his arm flung out and slammed against the backseat window, sailing past her head by only inches. The force of his blow vibrated the window, his hand landing right next to her face. He had her pinned and he knew he was acting irrationally. He knew that any human girl would be crying and afraid that he was going to loose it and start swinging at her directly. He knew all of this somewhere in his mind, but that part of his brain refused to process. What was wrong with him? He paused, the two of them silent for a moment as if the world stood still. The air was cold and he could see his breath, hear it coming in raspy pulls. The tension was almost palpable. "God, you're so stupid." He finished, this time barely in a whisper, their faces so close together now. And then he broke the number one conduit law, placing his palms around her face, cradling her head in his hands. It was as though he was slowly becoming untethered to the earth and if he didn't kiss her he would suddenly float off into space. It made no sense, none at all. He was still fuming. All the insults he had spouted were still true. But it didn't matter. He was filled with a need, one he'd been repressing these last few months. He pulled her in and ravished her lips, a man thirsty in the desert, her kiss an oasis.
If she'd been the type of woman to get frightened, the sudden jerk of Jesse's hand pulling her back and planting her in the side of the car would have done it. She might have even been hurt with the force, but she was no little human girl, no fragile flower, and as he obviously knew it was going to take a lot more than that little shove to do much of anything. Instead, she let out damned gasp just because the metal of the vehicle was so cold on her bare back. Her dark eyes returned his glare and she resisted the urge to break the finger he pointed in her face. God, he was a case. Rachelle would have rolled her eyes, but she was completely enthralled by the anger, the complete rage, that envelopped him. He couldn't feel, she still believed that -but he could seeth. He could seeth with the best of them. It was almost admirable. Her breath came shallowly in the cool air as his fist sailed past her. Once again, she didn't flinch, only turned her head to see it, strangely fascinated by this sudden turn in him. She was stupid? Uh, no. If anything, she was brilliant. She had the grades, knew several languages, and her social graces were perfection. Rachelle was the ultimate manipulator and she prided herself on it. How did that make her stupid? She smirked, unable to help it, and stifled a laugh when she noticed just how silent the air around them had become. It was suffocating, almost warm -vibrant with electricity that shot between them in bolts of madness. It was building, buildng as though something was about to break, to shatter into thosands of pieces. Rachelle almost held her breath, waiting for him to say something, anythng, to calm the suddenly overwhelming sea of moths in her stomach. Why was he looking at her like that? He'd never...well, she'd certainly seen it before, but not... Her skin was hot with a flush she hadn't felt coming as his face hovered just above hers, unable to look away from him, unable to snap the strength of the gaze between them, unable to ignore how close he was to her in every way. What was he doing? She fought with her own pride for a moment, struggling with the urge to push him away and wrap her arms around his neck and close that irksome distance. God, you're so stupid. His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him even in their proximity, and the words gave her the courage to put her hands on his chest, but the moment they landed, his hands were crading her face, his fingers digging into her hair, and instead of shoving, her fingers were wrapping in his shirt and pulling him into her as his mouth crashed into hers. Her legs had failed her, and she was glad there was a car there to catch her beneath his body -which she had correctly assumed was hard as hell. Rachelle's hands slid up his coat lapels after releasing his shirt to the back of his skull, her fingers in his hair, her nails scraping his skin just to crush his lips harder against her own. What were they doing? Actually, what was he doing? She'd tried to get Jesse like this so often and failed that she'd given up, truly thought he was incapable...but the heat that pounded through her blood and rose through her skin was proof enough that she was wrong. Very, very wrong. This was the sexiest kiss she'd ever experienced, the most amazing...her pulse was racing as she sucked hard on his lower lip before pushing the kiss further, demanding more. It fascinated and thrilled her, how easy and good this was -all she'd had to do was be patient. She pulled her lips from his for a small moment and murmured his name raggedly, her pony tail falling, her hands clinging to his neck as though he'd pull away. But he wasn't going anywhere -not if she had anything to say about it.
The adrenaline rush his anger had caused didn't just effect the more volatile of emotions. He took all his hate and focused it on their new found passion. His hand reached around and pulled the hair tie the rest of the way out of her mass of beautiful brown locks, letting them cascade around their shoulders. Then, in one swift movement his hands moved to her thighs and scoped her up to place her legs around his waist, balancing her against the car. Her frame was light and he barely had to extend an effort, leaving his energy for their kiss. The moment their lips had met it was like fire had exploded along the back of his spine, a shock taking over, enveloping his body. It was as though, in that moment, life itself had been sparked back into his soul. Why had he waited this long to release these feelings for her? He no longer remembered his job, his duty, or his conduit honor. For now, there was only the taste of her on his tongue. He pulled back for a moment, dragging his tongue along his lower lip, savoring her taste. He looked down at her, a smirk playing with his features. The shock and lust that he'd ignited were clear in her eyes, plain to see for a man who knew how to look. And god, he knew how to look. He wanted to drink her beauty in. "I can feel." He continued their argument, halfheartedly now. His hands enunciated his words as they grabbed her waist tightly in his over-sized hands. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, but he had little time to notice much else before they were back on each other, returning each others affections in kind. Neither one of them wanted to argue anymore. The time for harsh words had past the moment he'd broken every rule in his trusty little book. He'd been kidding himself, thinking he could keep himself from wanting her. Every touch between them was magic, just as amazing as he'd anticipated in the late hours of the night when he could think of nothing but her. She was perfect in the eerie glow of the night. The only light was that of street lamps off in the distance. Jesse knew there were video camera's the club operated that would be monitoring this, but they couldn't afford a guard to monitor them. The tapes would just meet an unfortunate accident later and no one would be the wiser. Thus, no one to find out, he dug in and enjoyed himself. He'd been so controlled around her. It felt like he was releasing a part of himself he'd kept caged, trapped, and sedated. All the while, somewhere in the back of his mind alarms were ringing. Morals were being compromised. But for now they were silenced by need. He didn't know what he was doing. He could become nothing more than a page in her diary, another man that was captured in her snare. He'd broken, given in, and there was no turning back. If anyone in the vampire community found out what he'd done they could wipe his memories, erasing her completely. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Would he wake up the same man he was before? He really didn't know. But sinking into her kiss in the back alley of his favorite nightclub he didn't much care.
