They were so close, she was so close, and then he had to go and interrupt again. She made a disappointed noise but nodded in agreement at his suggestion, though calling it a suggestion seemed inaccurate when he was already in the process of lifting her when he made it. It was a logical decision; the couch wasn't huge and the tiny part of her brain that was still making logical sense reminded her that if, when someone (Bret, her mind didn't say) came home, at least if they were upstairs they'd have a solid two minutes to attempt damage control. Probably not enough, but better than being caught literally in the act. She clung tightly to Wyatt, marveling as she had that night at the river at just how effortless he made carrying her seem, as they made their way upstairs. Her eyes darted past the door to Bret's room to Wyatt's. She had no recollection of having been in there before, she'd never had reason to, and she wondered offhandedly how different it was from Bret's.
There were a few other differences between the two of them that she was rather curious about. She'd be finding out, soon enough.
Ivy wondered, idly, how much time had passed.
She was fairly certain she'd dozed off, though for how long she wasn't sure. Not for too long, she imagined, as she glanced with bleary eyes at the nearest window; the light hadn't changed much since she'd last looked. That was good. They needed to not be here, for some reason she had forgotten. But this was a terribly comfy bed. Warm, too. It would probably be fairly cold if she got up now, considering the clothes she wasn't wearing, so maybe she could spend a few more minutes here. She reached out to touch Wyatt, she wouldn't mind being a little warmer...
He wasn't there, though. Ivy quickly sat upright with a noise not unlike the kind a cat makes when its disturbed from its slumber.
Her first thought was that she was definitely still pretty drunk, as evidenced by the woozy head rush that came with the sudden movement. She spotted Wyatt, standing, why was he standing? He should be in bed. She reached toward him with grasping hands, letting the blanket fall away from her. She was right, it was cold. Too cold. He was too far away. She didn't like it. Whatever it was they were supposed to be doing could wait, right? If she couldn't focus on what it was it couldn't be that important. Right?
close ain't close enough
private; i am very sorry
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Wyatt turned back at the girl in his bed, half-covered in blankets that probably resembled some classical art piece that he couldn't name specifically, he himself being only clad in a pair of underwear he'd managed to yank on. A twinge of amusement came to mind beyond how cute and sexy she looked, marveling that she was much tougher than she looked to not get totally flattened.
But this wasn't really a time for jokes or playing around. The events of the last half hour or so were pretty damn great, but now they needed to be anywhere else in the world than where they were right in that instant, before Bret got home. If his brother were to come through that door right now and put two and two together, Wyatt was going to need a lot more than just a bandage over his eye. Would probably put a damper on the whole thing that'd sprouted up between him and Ivy too. A lesser concern, not getting laid by your brother's girlfriend for a second time when the first wasn't even supposed to happen, but he'd be lying to himself if he pretended it wasn't at least on the board somewhere.
"Sorry darlin'," Wyatt said, "but we kinda need to get a move on and get you dressed." Did he want round two, the way she was inviting him over? Fuck yeah, he did. If they had a thing going on he'd have jumped right back on the Ivy Express and been the John Henry to her railroad track but he probably couldn't even get it up with the dread in his stomach.
Seriously. Bret was going to fucking kill him if he found out about this.
Wyatt was already helpfully picking up the discarded set of lingerie that he had the good sense to not just tear right off of her, at least not literally. "Come on," he coaxed. "Up up up. We'll get you in the shower and the dress in the wash. I already got the story." A shower was important, get the general smell of sex off of her, but he wasn't exactly one for condoms either so... better to take care of that part of the cleanup as well. He would need to clean up as well, but showering with Ivy -- again, an awesome thought -- would leave them both defenseless to a surprise arrival back home. He'd have to settle for an extra dose of body spray. He'd been working out earlier in the day, so it'd make sense to detox his B.O. after.
Okay. He could do this. They were gonna get out of this unscathed. The Carters were untouchable.
Just... not from each other.
But this wasn't really a time for jokes or playing around. The events of the last half hour or so were pretty damn great, but now they needed to be anywhere else in the world than where they were right in that instant, before Bret got home. If his brother were to come through that door right now and put two and two together, Wyatt was going to need a lot more than just a bandage over his eye. Would probably put a damper on the whole thing that'd sprouted up between him and Ivy too. A lesser concern, not getting laid by your brother's girlfriend for a second time when the first wasn't even supposed to happen, but he'd be lying to himself if he pretended it wasn't at least on the board somewhere.
"Sorry darlin'," Wyatt said, "but we kinda need to get a move on and get you dressed." Did he want round two, the way she was inviting him over? Fuck yeah, he did. If they had a thing going on he'd have jumped right back on the Ivy Express and been the John Henry to her railroad track but he probably couldn't even get it up with the dread in his stomach.
Seriously. Bret was going to fucking kill him if he found out about this.
Wyatt was already helpfully picking up the discarded set of lingerie that he had the good sense to not just tear right off of her, at least not literally. "Come on," he coaxed. "Up up up. We'll get you in the shower and the dress in the wash. I already got the story." A shower was important, get the general smell of sex off of her, but he wasn't exactly one for condoms either so... better to take care of that part of the cleanup as well. He would need to clean up as well, but showering with Ivy -- again, an awesome thought -- would leave them both defenseless to a surprise arrival back home. He'd have to settle for an extra dose of body spray. He'd been working out earlier in the day, so it'd make sense to detox his B.O. after.
Okay. He could do this. They were gonna get out of this unscathed. The Carters were untouchable.
Just... not from each other.
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
He called her "darlin'". That was cute. That was kind of the only thing that immediately registered out of all the words that came out of his mouth, though. She smiled a little sleepily, swayed a bit on the spot. She supposed she had to get up, though she still wasn't sure why, but when she tried to move she was reminded of two things: one, that all things considered she probably shouldn't open her legs right now, and two, the effort involved in keeping her legs shut was painful. A lot of things hurt quite a bit at this moment in time, actually, and the act of sliding a few inches across the bed sent a shot of pain through her that cleared the fog in her head, at least a bit, at least for the moment.
Ivy looked at her lingerie, looked at mostly-undressed Wyatt, looked down at herself.
Right. Yes. This was bad, wasn't it? Definitely bad. Very very bad. Not so much that she regretted it, at least not yet, give her a few hours to revisit that possibility, but still, bad.
Luckily, damage control was one of her talents, which revealed an unfortunate tendency toward messing up in the first place, but whatever. She gave herself a moment to click together the pieces. Bret was coming home. It was a fucking miracle, actually, that he wasn't home already, considering that Wyatt had said it'd be an hour or so and it had to have been at least that long already, if not longer. She was currently in Wyatt's bed, naked and probably reeking of sex, not that she could smell it at the moment, which was not exactly a situation that could be explained away by a clever lie. She was still definitely at least somewhat drunk, but that was a relatively minor issue. Her dress was also explainable, she had spilled beer, that could happen to anyone, not a big deal. So the trick was in getting out of this spot. She'd get a big t-shirt from Wyatt, something that actually covered her, and they'd be fine as long as they cleaned up. And maybe Wyatt could open a window.
Well, he had a plan, he said. Probably much the same as hers, but she still wasn't quite sober enough to explain hers clearly, plus she might as well let him think he was taking care of her. She'd call it sweet if it wasn't self-defense as much as anything else. Still, though, if he had regretted everything the moment it was over, he probably would have been a much bigger dick about it after the fact.
There were implications to that. Something else to revisit, later. Right now was a time for action. Like standing up.
She did, sliding out of bed with her thighs clamped shut, and immediately stumbled, barely keeping herself upright by holding onto a wall.
"Ah... a little help, maybe?" she said sheepishly, glancing at Wyatt. He could help her shuffle her way to the bathroom, but she wouldn't say no to being carried one more time.
Ivy looked at her lingerie, looked at mostly-undressed Wyatt, looked down at herself.
Right. Yes. This was bad, wasn't it? Definitely bad. Very very bad. Not so much that she regretted it, at least not yet, give her a few hours to revisit that possibility, but still, bad.
Luckily, damage control was one of her talents, which revealed an unfortunate tendency toward messing up in the first place, but whatever. She gave herself a moment to click together the pieces. Bret was coming home. It was a fucking miracle, actually, that he wasn't home already, considering that Wyatt had said it'd be an hour or so and it had to have been at least that long already, if not longer. She was currently in Wyatt's bed, naked and probably reeking of sex, not that she could smell it at the moment, which was not exactly a situation that could be explained away by a clever lie. She was still definitely at least somewhat drunk, but that was a relatively minor issue. Her dress was also explainable, she had spilled beer, that could happen to anyone, not a big deal. So the trick was in getting out of this spot. She'd get a big t-shirt from Wyatt, something that actually covered her, and they'd be fine as long as they cleaned up. And maybe Wyatt could open a window.
Well, he had a plan, he said. Probably much the same as hers, but she still wasn't quite sober enough to explain hers clearly, plus she might as well let him think he was taking care of her. She'd call it sweet if it wasn't self-defense as much as anything else. Still, though, if he had regretted everything the moment it was over, he probably would have been a much bigger dick about it after the fact.
There were implications to that. Something else to revisit, later. Right now was a time for action. Like standing up.
She did, sliding out of bed with her thighs clamped shut, and immediately stumbled, barely keeping herself upright by holding onto a wall.
"Ah... a little help, maybe?" she said sheepishly, glancing at Wyatt. He could help her shuffle her way to the bathroom, but she wouldn't say no to being carried one more time.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Something about Ivy's pose when she slipped off the bed reminded Wyatt of that famous statue of the woman. You know, the one with no arms? The fuck was that called again?
Took him a second to remember why she had to keep her legs clamped shut like that. Probably for the best, really, because otherwise she'd drip everywhere and the last thing they needed was a sticky trail leading from the bathroom all the way back to his room like Carmen Sandiego's fucking footprints. So they were going to have to keep the freshness seal unbroken, at least until they could get her into the shower. He deeply regretted that he would be unable to join her in there as he approached, offering one arm to be tucked under one shoulder, behind her back and supporting the other. All it took was her leaning back and he had her legs, scooping her up off the floor again.
"Just another service I provide," Wyatt quipped, turning so he could fit the both of them through the doorway and down the hall to the restroom. "Fuck AND taxi service."
They made it to the restroom without springing a leak. Alright, that was step one. Wyatt carefully set Ivy down and assessed the situation a moment. He'd managed to work off the buzz from earlier, though Ivy still seemed a bit red in the face - couple possible reasons for that, there, but it'd be dumb to assume she was completely sober. Not much to be done about that other than pray the water would spray some sense into her. "I assume you're familiar with our shower," Wyatt said. 'Because you've taken plenty of showers in it with my brother,' Wyatt DIDN'T say, still swallowing down the lump in his throat that was the looming threat of Bret's arrival. "So go ahead and take your time. I'll throw some of your stuff in, get your dress in the wash, uh..." What else would they need to do?
"Febreze my room, maybe," he chuckled. Fuck, he and Ives had really torn it down. He wouldn't have minded another ago right there in bed, or when she was slipping out of bed, or when he held her in his arms, or right here right now by bending her over the sink but he had to go and make things difficult for them. That's what things were, difficult. He and Ivy could be a thing if it wasn't for this nasty situation they had on their hands now. The most normal way for things to play out, now, was for Ivy to go back to her boyfriend, and he'd see her a lot and they'd each have to pretend this all had never happened.
When Wyatt left the room to set about finishing covering both their asses, he told himself that was for the best.
Took him a second to remember why she had to keep her legs clamped shut like that. Probably for the best, really, because otherwise she'd drip everywhere and the last thing they needed was a sticky trail leading from the bathroom all the way back to his room like Carmen Sandiego's fucking footprints. So they were going to have to keep the freshness seal unbroken, at least until they could get her into the shower. He deeply regretted that he would be unable to join her in there as he approached, offering one arm to be tucked under one shoulder, behind her back and supporting the other. All it took was her leaning back and he had her legs, scooping her up off the floor again.
"Just another service I provide," Wyatt quipped, turning so he could fit the both of them through the doorway and down the hall to the restroom. "Fuck AND taxi service."
They made it to the restroom without springing a leak. Alright, that was step one. Wyatt carefully set Ivy down and assessed the situation a moment. He'd managed to work off the buzz from earlier, though Ivy still seemed a bit red in the face - couple possible reasons for that, there, but it'd be dumb to assume she was completely sober. Not much to be done about that other than pray the water would spray some sense into her. "I assume you're familiar with our shower," Wyatt said. 'Because you've taken plenty of showers in it with my brother,' Wyatt DIDN'T say, still swallowing down the lump in his throat that was the looming threat of Bret's arrival. "So go ahead and take your time. I'll throw some of your stuff in, get your dress in the wash, uh..." What else would they need to do?
"Febreze my room, maybe," he chuckled. Fuck, he and Ives had really torn it down. He wouldn't have minded another ago right there in bed, or when she was slipping out of bed, or when he held her in his arms, or right here right now by bending her over the sink but he had to go and make things difficult for them. That's what things were, difficult. He and Ivy could be a thing if it wasn't for this nasty situation they had on their hands now. The most normal way for things to play out, now, was for Ivy to go back to her boyfriend, and he'd see her a lot and they'd each have to pretend this all had never happened.
When Wyatt left the room to set about finishing covering both their asses, he told himself that was for the best.
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Was it bad, that when Wyatt scooped her up (and for the first time it didn't take her by surprise and she managed not to make an embarrassing noise in response), she tucked herself in closer, laid her head against his chest? Was it wrong that when he set her down her arms almost unconsciously reached out to hold him again before she caught the motion and pulled away? Her head was still swimming, her gait unsteady, and that was a reason; not THE reason, maybe, but a reason, and that was enough. She needed him, at this moment in time, nothing more, nothing less. The way she giggled at his dumb remark, the way her voice caught when she said "yes, of course, I'll be quick," the way she didn't look away from him until she was out of sight, finally turning and frowning at the shower—more things that might need revisiting. Now, she had to let go.
Ivy would give Wyatt credit for a correct assumption if she wasn't sure he knew full well she'd been in this shower before, and not alone, either; being quiet wasn't one of her strong points. Still took her an embarrassingly long time to remember how to turn the water on, though. She probably could have wobbled back to the bedroom and asked, but... but, but. She got the water on, eventually, and for a far too brief interlude, she let the thoughts melt away.
She gave herself five minutes and no longer. The dose of water had done its job, both in clearing away the evidence and in clearing her head, at least partially. As she toweled off she noticed Wyatt had delivered the non-dress components of her outfit along with a t-shirt that would probably cover her more than the dress had. She cleared the bathroom mirror of its post-shower fog and frowned as she looked at herself. Her makeup was gone, her hair looked awful wet, and she shouldn't care, what did it matter. The fact that she didn't remember that she might still see Bret for a long moment after she felt embarrassed was more than a little indicative, but she set that aside, got dressed, tugging thigh-high socks over freshly-showered legs with some minor difficulty. She frowned at herself in the mirror again, but no one looked good just out of the shower, did they? It was a burden she would have to live with.
She walked, too slowly, back toward Bret—she had to stop herself, redirect toward a room that had been unfamiliar a scant hour before. Back toward Wyatt's room. Her movements were steady. Something else slowed her. Her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself, her gaze directed downward, her cheeks red, and she couldn't forgive herself for it, now, as the drunkenness ebbed away. What was there to be shy about, anymore? It was so childish. She forced herself to look up.
"Hey."
She'd had words, but she'd lost them again.
Ivy would give Wyatt credit for a correct assumption if she wasn't sure he knew full well she'd been in this shower before, and not alone, either; being quiet wasn't one of her strong points. Still took her an embarrassingly long time to remember how to turn the water on, though. She probably could have wobbled back to the bedroom and asked, but... but, but. She got the water on, eventually, and for a far too brief interlude, she let the thoughts melt away.
She gave herself five minutes and no longer. The dose of water had done its job, both in clearing away the evidence and in clearing her head, at least partially. As she toweled off she noticed Wyatt had delivered the non-dress components of her outfit along with a t-shirt that would probably cover her more than the dress had. She cleared the bathroom mirror of its post-shower fog and frowned as she looked at herself. Her makeup was gone, her hair looked awful wet, and she shouldn't care, what did it matter. The fact that she didn't remember that she might still see Bret for a long moment after she felt embarrassed was more than a little indicative, but she set that aside, got dressed, tugging thigh-high socks over freshly-showered legs with some minor difficulty. She frowned at herself in the mirror again, but no one looked good just out of the shower, did they? It was a burden she would have to live with.
She walked, too slowly, back toward Bret—she had to stop herself, redirect toward a room that had been unfamiliar a scant hour before. Back toward Wyatt's room. Her movements were steady. Something else slowed her. Her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself, her gaze directed downward, her cheeks red, and she couldn't forgive herself for it, now, as the drunkenness ebbed away. What was there to be shy about, anymore? It was so childish. She forced herself to look up.
"Hey."
She'd had words, but she'd lost them again.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
By this point, Wyatt was fully dressed. It was actually quite possible he was wearing more clothes now than when he'd first answered Ivy's knock on the door; his George Hunter High football jersey, complete with the large '99' on his back and the letters 'CARTER' emblazoned above, actually covered his shoulders and a significant portion of his chest, unlike the tank he'd been wearing before. He hadn't bothered to change his shorts, but they were likely the first things he pulled on and given it was also part of cleaning up the scene of the crime, killing two birds with one stone here justified the dirty clothes.
"Hey," Wyatt automatically responded, turning around. "That was a fast shower, I was expecting... uh oh, what's that face?"
The 'uh oh' came off full of levity, as if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation or, more likely, was just pushing it aside. "No point in being shy, I already saw you naked. That was uh, fucking awesome, by the way." He put on a goofy grin and crossed his arms, stepping up to her. The way she looked off to the side, red in the face and bashful as all fuck... man, that was a cute way to see Ivy. He wanted to squeeze her cheeks until he crushed her head in, that's how adorable she was being right now.
Maybe that was why mom and dad got a dog that was nearly as large as he was.
"We can head downstairs and just uh, chill out. Bret should be here soon and uh, gotta tell him what happened." Wyatt rolled his neck and made a pair of finger quotes after the fact. "Oh gotta ask, so I'm the bigger brother, right?" He laughed for yet another time over the course of the afternoon-turned-early-evening. He trailed off and set a hand on Ivy's shoulder.
And he tried not thinking about what he just got himself into. Boy. That was hard. Kinda like his dick a little while ago!
Nope. Still worried.
"Hey," Wyatt automatically responded, turning around. "That was a fast shower, I was expecting... uh oh, what's that face?"
The 'uh oh' came off full of levity, as if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation or, more likely, was just pushing it aside. "No point in being shy, I already saw you naked. That was uh, fucking awesome, by the way." He put on a goofy grin and crossed his arms, stepping up to her. The way she looked off to the side, red in the face and bashful as all fuck... man, that was a cute way to see Ivy. He wanted to squeeze her cheeks until he crushed her head in, that's how adorable she was being right now.
Maybe that was why mom and dad got a dog that was nearly as large as he was.
"We can head downstairs and just uh, chill out. Bret should be here soon and uh, gotta tell him what happened." Wyatt rolled his neck and made a pair of finger quotes after the fact. "Oh gotta ask, so I'm the bigger brother, right?" He laughed for yet another time over the course of the afternoon-turned-early-evening. He trailed off and set a hand on Ivy's shoulder.
And he tried not thinking about what he just got himself into. Boy. That was hard. Kinda like his dick a little while ago!
Nope. Still worried.
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
He'd flipped a switch real easily, hadn't he? That was like him. Wyatt wasn't one to really let things get to him, at least not for long. And why would this get to him, really? He'd had fun, and now it was over, and he wasn't the one at real immediate risk of—well. That wasn't fair. Wyatt was at real immediate risk of most of the same things she was with the added possibility of actual violence, and as entertaining as she usually found it when boys fought that wasn't something she was particularly interested in seeing. He had stakes here, same as her. Did he feel guilty? Did he just hide it well? Did she feel guilty? She hadn't figured that out, yet. She felt a lot of things, but they were tangled together in a web she had no interest in unraveling until she was a hell of a lot safer than she was right now.
"Fucking awesome" sure were words for it. She didn't think she disagreed. Despite everything, the corners of her mouth turned up a little. His hand set on her shoulder and competing instincts told her to pull away or to fall into him; she resisted both for a moment before she took the second option, though not so empathetically. She took a small step forward, rested her head against his chest, sighed. (She considered answering his question, but decided to keep that particular tidbit to herself, for the moment.)
"It'd probably be better if I left."
She'd been thinking that in the shower, since her mind was clear enough to think anything logical, that nothing on earth would make her happy to see Bret Carter right now. Maybe they could hide everything well enough, maybe they could make excuses, maybe, maybe, but that didn't change the fact that the thought of him made her stomach turn. She could feign drunken innocence, she was good at that, but why the fuck would she do that to herself?
No, more than anything, she needed to be gone. She needed to send some very major texts to Myles, she needed a nap, and she needed to consider a bunch of things. And for that she needed to be alone.
It was so warm here, though.
She pulled away, one hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger, nervous instinct again. She looked him over. He didn't regret it, she was almost sure, he'd probably have said so already if he had. He was so easy to read. She loved him for it.
"I..." She paused and swallowed the rehearsed sentence in her mind. If he could be honest, so could she, at least for today. "I don't... want to leave you. But I don't want to see him, either. I think I'm sober enough to walk home, once my dress is clean." She paused again, took a breath.
"... It'll be fine. You spilled the beer. I was never here."
As though either of them would ever forget that she was.
"Fucking awesome" sure were words for it. She didn't think she disagreed. Despite everything, the corners of her mouth turned up a little. His hand set on her shoulder and competing instincts told her to pull away or to fall into him; she resisted both for a moment before she took the second option, though not so empathetically. She took a small step forward, rested her head against his chest, sighed. (She considered answering his question, but decided to keep that particular tidbit to herself, for the moment.)
"It'd probably be better if I left."
She'd been thinking that in the shower, since her mind was clear enough to think anything logical, that nothing on earth would make her happy to see Bret Carter right now. Maybe they could hide everything well enough, maybe they could make excuses, maybe, maybe, but that didn't change the fact that the thought of him made her stomach turn. She could feign drunken innocence, she was good at that, but why the fuck would she do that to herself?
No, more than anything, she needed to be gone. She needed to send some very major texts to Myles, she needed a nap, and she needed to consider a bunch of things. And for that she needed to be alone.
It was so warm here, though.
She pulled away, one hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger, nervous instinct again. She looked him over. He didn't regret it, she was almost sure, he'd probably have said so already if he had. He was so easy to read. She loved him for it.
"I..." She paused and swallowed the rehearsed sentence in her mind. If he could be honest, so could she, at least for today. "I don't... want to leave you. But I don't want to see him, either. I think I'm sober enough to walk home, once my dress is clean." She paused again, took a breath.
"... It'll be fine. You spilled the beer. I was never here."
As though either of them would ever forget that she was.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"Huh? Not staying?" Confusion was an expression Wyatt wore well, and somewhat often, but most of the time it was in math class. Normally people didn't confuse him. No, normally they either amused him or they upset him or, on occasion, they could manage both. But Ivy had confused him and he felt a weird, cold sting in his gut that he wasn't sure how to interpret.
Ivy leaned on him, feeling like such a small little thing standing there before him. How he didn't break her in half, he was still trying to understand. He held her for that moment, with one arm draped over, and a hand loosely clapped to her back. When she pulled away, he didn't stop her, no matter how easily he could have. "I mean, I think it'd be alright- never here? You're sure?" he asked, still uncharacteristically hesitant. "Hey, no, I ain't regrettin' what happened."
And he didn't, but it was clear to him if he gave it any thought that it wasn't like they'd make anything of this. They wouldn't exactly have tons of chances to meet for casual hookups, not just because she was already dating somebody, but specifically who she was dating. The whole situation hanging over him now had a solution far beyond his comprehension... if it had one at all.
Ivy leaned on him, feeling like such a small little thing standing there before him. How he didn't break her in half, he was still trying to understand. He held her for that moment, with one arm draped over, and a hand loosely clapped to her back. When she pulled away, he didn't stop her, no matter how easily he could have. "I mean, I think it'd be alright- never here? You're sure?" he asked, still uncharacteristically hesitant. "Hey, no, I ain't regrettin' what happened."
And he didn't, but it was clear to him if he gave it any thought that it wasn't like they'd make anything of this. They wouldn't exactly have tons of chances to meet for casual hookups, not just because she was already dating somebody, but specifically who she was dating. The whole situation hanging over him now had a solution far beyond his comprehension... if it had one at all.
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
He was kinda cute when he was confused. Cute, but it still kind of felt like she'd kicked a puppy who only knew how to react with bewilderment. It was funny, how this was the first time she could properly identify the gnawing feeling in her stomach as guilt. But the hesitancy in his words, always so confident, the way he reassured her that no, he hadn't regretted it, like he didn't want to forget, it tore at her, but he had to know, didn't he? He had to know that this wasn't allowed to be anything. That at least for now their only option was to pretend nothing had changed between them, and that was easier if they just didn't discuss it again. After she left, they could both put it behind them. Theoretically. She wasn't stupid enough to think that would work in practice, but at the very least she needed to consider her feelings before anything else could be allowed.
I ain't regrettin' what happened. She felt the urge to say something silly like "I know", or something joking like "you'd better not", or something self-assured like "of course you don't, it's me we're talking about," but she'd promised herself she'd be honest, this time. He deserved that.
"I'm glad." She managed a smile. "I don't, either. But it'll be easier on both of us if we can minimize how many lies we have to tell."
She wrung her hands. Her dress was probably about done. She'd have hell to deal with if she ran into Bret on her way out, so time was of the essence. She should turn away now, get her dress, go.
"Hey."
Instead, she moved back in, stood on tiptoe and pulled him down so she could brush her lips against his.
She needed one more.
"We'll figure something out."
It was a bad thing to say, but she wanted to mean it.
I ain't regrettin' what happened. She felt the urge to say something silly like "I know", or something joking like "you'd better not", or something self-assured like "of course you don't, it's me we're talking about," but she'd promised herself she'd be honest, this time. He deserved that.
"I'm glad." She managed a smile. "I don't, either. But it'll be easier on both of us if we can minimize how many lies we have to tell."
She wrung her hands. Her dress was probably about done. She'd have hell to deal with if she ran into Bret on her way out, so time was of the essence. She should turn away now, get her dress, go.
"Hey."
Instead, she moved back in, stood on tiptoe and pulled him down so she could brush her lips against his.
She needed one more.
"We'll figure something out."
It was a bad thing to say, but she wanted to mean it.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
This kiss was wisely kept short, but damn if he wasn't returning it.
"Awesome," Wyatt replied after he was done straightening the hunch in his back, after Ivy was done getting off her tiptoes, the only way they could possibly kiss while standing. "I mean, this all was too, but I meant the plan." He sighed and rubbed the camo-print ball cap back and forth on his head before adjusting it. "Alright. Let's get that dress and get you home safely. Lemme know if my brother continues being a fuckup though, alright?"
Everything turned out okay. For now.
((Wyatt Carter, continued elsewhere. I mean he's not going anywhere right this second, it's his house after all, so like, he's gonna be here the rest of the day but... ugh, look, you get it. You're picking up what I'm putting down. So, he's gonna be continued somewhere else. I'm trying to say that this is scene end. Or like, first half of scene end.))
"Awesome," Wyatt replied after he was done straightening the hunch in his back, after Ivy was done getting off her tiptoes, the only way they could possibly kiss while standing. "I mean, this all was too, but I meant the plan." He sighed and rubbed the camo-print ball cap back and forth on his head before adjusting it. "Alright. Let's get that dress and get you home safely. Lemme know if my brother continues being a fuckup though, alright?"
Everything turned out okay. For now.
((Wyatt Carter, continued elsewhere. I mean he's not going anywhere right this second, it's his house after all, so like, he's gonna be here the rest of the day but... ugh, look, you get it. You're picking up what I'm putting down. So, he's gonna be continued somewhere else. I'm trying to say that this is scene end. Or like, first half of scene end.))
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
They moved quickly, self-assuredly, even, and soon enough she was dressed, she had her phone, her shoes were on; she'd be lying if she said she wasn't any worse for wear as opposed to how she had been when she first arrived, considering her hair still stuck to the back of her neck and her mind was still fighting a haze that threatened to cloud it once again, but at least she was presentable. She looked at him as little as possible. Some part of her didn't want to leave, not really. Like, why not? Why not stay, why not wait for Bret to come through the door and tell him exactly what happened, why not break up with him right there, what was stopping her?
A lot of things, actually. She couldn't imagine Wyatt would particularly approve, either. The fact that that little daydream even occurred to her, and that it sounded even a little appealing, was alarming enough.
She kept her mouth shut, waved goodbye, and walked away.
>> Ivy Langley continued in but i'm already someone else's baby aka like two minutes after this thread ends
A lot of things, actually. She couldn't imagine Wyatt would particularly approve, either. The fact that that little daydream even occurred to her, and that it sounded even a little appealing, was alarming enough.
She kept her mouth shut, waved goodbye, and walked away.
>> Ivy Langley continued in but i'm already someone else's baby aka like two minutes after this thread ends
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."