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L e x a x C r e e d
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o f x s a b r e t o o t h
#b45439 || Outfit || nightclaw
#b45439 || Outfit || nightclaw
James might not enjoy small-talk, and that was okay with Lexa. For whatever it's worth - this was also not the most peaceful place she's seen, either. She's also seen better, but perhaps not to extent that James had.
He was also correct in assuming that she was far more interested in her phone than his company. It wasn't anything personal, but she was the type of girl that most people made fun of for being too into themselves, technology, and whatever else. That wasn't true in Lexa's case, as she had a perfectly normal and healthy relationship with both herself and other people, but she understood the perception that she gave off. She didn't care. These silly little "Boomers" could kiss her cute butt.
While she displayed overly-invested interest in her cellphone, her peripheral did pick up on a Ghost Rider on the move. Curious about his sudden animation, she sort of did this thing where she peeked her eyes up over her screen and gawked. Not that she should have been ashamed to look at him. He's probably about to dip on her, and she wouldn't have any complaints about it.
Much to her surprise, he actually began to strip. Now this had become more entertaining than her Instagram, which still pinged rapidly as people flocked to eat up her social media empire. James was right not to look back at her because she was totally checking him out. In fact, she even snapped a quick picture of him from behind with the hashtag #superherobutt #boyfriendgoals #photooftheday #poolparty #sexyguy. As she went about adding this to her Insta, she bit her bottom lip and smirked. If James had look behind him at her, he would be able to tell that she was up to no good. Yet, the deed was done, his sexy backside was out there for women and men all around the world to savor. The internet is forever.
It wasn't even a minute before her Insta blew up once more, just as much as it did with Jr. Fantastic. Ah, the men here were going to be good for her internet reputation, which was really the only reputation that really mattered. Honestly.
As she watched her screen, Myla had come out onto the patio obviously in very bad shape. Lexa's clothes, too. Just as thought about the state of her loaned attire, the blind woman held some money out to her. "If this isn't enough, just let me know."
Lexa wanted to say something, but after accepting the money with a blank stare, she was left to swallow those words back down. She stared at the money for a good while, realizing that Myla had given her far too much. Honestly, her clothes were never worth anything over fifty bucks. Lexa lived in low-end shopping places and thrift stores. She'd pocket the money to give it back later. Sure, she liked things - she was very self-centered and materialistic, but she wasn't dishonest.
Lexa stood, set her phone down, and looked over at James. "I hope you don't mind if I join you," she said, flashed him a quick grin, and stripped down to her own undergarments. All black and lacey, obviously. There was no need to be a prude. Bodies were just that - bodies. You see one, you've seen them all. Modern society really was too conservative sometimes, but Lexa enjoyed little freedoms like this.
She dove into the pool and quickly resurfaced, brushing her hair out of her face. She swam up to join him at the edge, shoulder-to-shoulder, unabashedly touching. The guy was broad, and she's more on the slender girly side of things.
"So, James," she began, turning her head to look at him as she crossed her arms over the edge of the pool, "... aside from almost stripping naked, what else interests you?" Lexa didn't want to touch on potentially sensitive topics like his reasons for being here, his parents, and all the rest of those things. She likes conversations that are more like hanging out with a group of friends at a clubhouse in the woods or something. She's that type of girl; casual, a little bit on the edge of flirty, ready to open up the stoic reserved types like James.
As she posed her question, Zehara came out. "Did you see Myla?" She asked. "She said they attacked her when she went to get her things, and nearly took her."
Lexa could only shrug her shoulders and point to a Kane, who seemed to have laid himself out across the pool chair.
He was also correct in assuming that she was far more interested in her phone than his company. It wasn't anything personal, but she was the type of girl that most people made fun of for being too into themselves, technology, and whatever else. That wasn't true in Lexa's case, as she had a perfectly normal and healthy relationship with both herself and other people, but she understood the perception that she gave off. She didn't care. These silly little "Boomers" could kiss her cute butt.
While she displayed overly-invested interest in her cellphone, her peripheral did pick up on a Ghost Rider on the move. Curious about his sudden animation, she sort of did this thing where she peeked her eyes up over her screen and gawked. Not that she should have been ashamed to look at him. He's probably about to dip on her, and she wouldn't have any complaints about it.
Much to her surprise, he actually began to strip. Now this had become more entertaining than her Instagram, which still pinged rapidly as people flocked to eat up her social media empire. James was right not to look back at her because she was totally checking him out. In fact, she even snapped a quick picture of him from behind with the hashtag #superherobutt #boyfriendgoals #photooftheday #poolparty #sexyguy. As she went about adding this to her Insta, she bit her bottom lip and smirked. If James had look behind him at her, he would be able to tell that she was up to no good. Yet, the deed was done, his sexy backside was out there for women and men all around the world to savor. The internet is forever.
It wasn't even a minute before her Insta blew up once more, just as much as it did with Jr. Fantastic. Ah, the men here were going to be good for her internet reputation, which was really the only reputation that really mattered. Honestly.
As she watched her screen, Myla had come out onto the patio obviously in very bad shape. Lexa's clothes, too. Just as thought about the state of her loaned attire, the blind woman held some money out to her. "If this isn't enough, just let me know."
Lexa wanted to say something, but after accepting the money with a blank stare, she was left to swallow those words back down. She stared at the money for a good while, realizing that Myla had given her far too much. Honestly, her clothes were never worth anything over fifty bucks. Lexa lived in low-end shopping places and thrift stores. She'd pocket the money to give it back later. Sure, she liked things - she was very self-centered and materialistic, but she wasn't dishonest.
Lexa stood, set her phone down, and looked over at James. "I hope you don't mind if I join you," she said, flashed him a quick grin, and stripped down to her own undergarments. All black and lacey, obviously. There was no need to be a prude. Bodies were just that - bodies. You see one, you've seen them all. Modern society really was too conservative sometimes, but Lexa enjoyed little freedoms like this.
She dove into the pool and quickly resurfaced, brushing her hair out of her face. She swam up to join him at the edge, shoulder-to-shoulder, unabashedly touching. The guy was broad, and she's more on the slender girly side of things.
"So, James," she began, turning her head to look at him as she crossed her arms over the edge of the pool, "... aside from almost stripping naked, what else interests you?" Lexa didn't want to touch on potentially sensitive topics like his reasons for being here, his parents, and all the rest of those things. She likes conversations that are more like hanging out with a group of friends at a clubhouse in the woods or something. She's that type of girl; casual, a little bit on the edge of flirty, ready to open up the stoic reserved types like James.
As she posed her question, Zehara came out. "Did you see Myla?" She asked. "She said they attacked her when she went to get her things, and nearly took her."
Lexa could only shrug her shoulders and point to a Kane, who seemed to have laid himself out across the pool chair.
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K a n e x N y g u y e n
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o f x c h e s h i r e
#000000 || Outfit || ronin
#000000 || Outfit || ronin
Kane stared at Myla quietly as she seized his wrist and voiced her gratitude. His brows furrowed slightly, and he felt confused for a couple of seconds. When she touched him and thanked him, there was some kind of... feeling in the pit of his stomach, and even his chest. It was a light sensation, like butterflies fluttering their way through his trunk. Was there something wrong with him? Some of the hits that he had taken must be getting to him.
"I was already here. No need to thank me," he replied cooly as her fingers slipped away from him.
He had parked his bike in the garage, but he didn't expect to see it again. It wouldn't kill him. Too much.
They were in the taxi now, and Myla had just declared that she wasn't the least bit weary. While she may not be tired, Kane certainly felt the weight of his wounds. Having been slammed ruthlessly into the ground, his body was definitely bruised and his head pounded to the point where the ache reached the backs of his eyes. He felt tense all around.
Kane had sat in the middle seat, close to Myla. Their proximity was as if they were partners in some way, and he seemed comfortable this way. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had tossed his head back after his eyes closed. It wasn't even five seconds into him drifting into sleep that Myla thought to "clear the air" and address the obvious elephant in the room - rather, in the car.
"You've heard of BDSM... Right? We just get carried away sometimes. Heat of the moment and all that," He wanted to protest the moment she posed the question to the taxi driver. If that guy felt uncomfortable, Kane suddenly felt like he was anchored heavily to the seat. Did he look like that kind of guy? "Isn't that right, babe?"
"Hmm? Yeah, yeah," he grumbled in the fog of wanting to slip into a nap. Whatever. It was said and done, and it appeared that she warded off the police for now.
When Kane finally moved into a quiet nap, his head rolled onto Myla's shoulder. It was only natural with all the motions of the car. He really, really was just that tired.
They arrived at the Academy, and after they both stepped out of the cab, Myla was shoving money at him, "This should cover your ride back." He didn't even bother to protest. What use would it have been? He let her slip the cash into his jacket pocket. She then needed her duffle, and he leaned and bent enough for her to reach for it and slide it off of his shoulder. "It was nice meeting you."
When she turned around to leave, he grabbed her duffel and forced her to stop. He had put his weapon in there, and she was about to run off with it. The hilt was already sticking out, so he just grabbed and pulled the object out. He also slipped her money back into it then pushed her gently forward, letting her know that she could go on.
He waited for a long minute and watched her leave with a tilted head. He cast his gaze over the shoulder at the waiting cab. His hands slipped into the pockets of his pants, and he felt the key. After some thought, Kane motioned the taxi away.
He followed Myla at a far distance, and slowly. When she took the elevator to the eleventh floor, he decided to take the steps. He's quick and athletic, so this was no problem for him at all. He ended up on the floor moments after she did, but he trailed after her toward the patio - but he did not go onto it.
Why the hell is he following her? He looked up at the ceiling as he questioned his own motives.
Yet, once she was on the move from the patio, he dipped back behind the door to the stairwell and watched her move toward the infirmary. Great, now he's hiding from her. There's obviously something wrong with him.
Once she was receiving the care, Kane decided against his own medical needs. He was used to it. He wasn't the kind of guy that could just go to a doctor's office or the emergency room. Instead, he found himself wandering toward the patio and flopping onto a long reclining patio chair.
Even though he closed his eyes, he could feel everyone's stare burning into his soul. Without opening his eyes, "It wasn't me. I helped her." The way he answered the question before it was even asked was indicative of someone who might be used to being a suspect. He didn't need the neighborhood wild cats or the resident demon on his ass.
"No more questions," he concluded rather coldly, and let his eyes close so that he could rest a little bit more. He could have gone to his room, but the air was nice and he's subconsciously waiting to make sure Myla's wounds were taken care of.
Not that he was going to admit it.
"I was already here. No need to thank me," he replied cooly as her fingers slipped away from him.
* * *
He had parked his bike in the garage, but he didn't expect to see it again. It wouldn't kill him. Too much.
They were in the taxi now, and Myla had just declared that she wasn't the least bit weary. While she may not be tired, Kane certainly felt the weight of his wounds. Having been slammed ruthlessly into the ground, his body was definitely bruised and his head pounded to the point where the ache reached the backs of his eyes. He felt tense all around.
Kane had sat in the middle seat, close to Myla. Their proximity was as if they were partners in some way, and he seemed comfortable this way. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had tossed his head back after his eyes closed. It wasn't even five seconds into him drifting into sleep that Myla thought to "clear the air" and address the obvious elephant in the room - rather, in the car.
"You've heard of BDSM... Right? We just get carried away sometimes. Heat of the moment and all that," He wanted to protest the moment she posed the question to the taxi driver. If that guy felt uncomfortable, Kane suddenly felt like he was anchored heavily to the seat. Did he look like that kind of guy? "Isn't that right, babe?"
"Hmm? Yeah, yeah," he grumbled in the fog of wanting to slip into a nap. Whatever. It was said and done, and it appeared that she warded off the police for now.
When Kane finally moved into a quiet nap, his head rolled onto Myla's shoulder. It was only natural with all the motions of the car. He really, really was just that tired.
* * *
They arrived at the Academy, and after they both stepped out of the cab, Myla was shoving money at him, "This should cover your ride back." He didn't even bother to protest. What use would it have been? He let her slip the cash into his jacket pocket. She then needed her duffle, and he leaned and bent enough for her to reach for it and slide it off of his shoulder. "It was nice meeting you."
When she turned around to leave, he grabbed her duffel and forced her to stop. He had put his weapon in there, and she was about to run off with it. The hilt was already sticking out, so he just grabbed and pulled the object out. He also slipped her money back into it then pushed her gently forward, letting her know that she could go on.
He waited for a long minute and watched her leave with a tilted head. He cast his gaze over the shoulder at the waiting cab. His hands slipped into the pockets of his pants, and he felt the key. After some thought, Kane motioned the taxi away.
He followed Myla at a far distance, and slowly. When she took the elevator to the eleventh floor, he decided to take the steps. He's quick and athletic, so this was no problem for him at all. He ended up on the floor moments after she did, but he trailed after her toward the patio - but he did not go onto it.
Why the hell is he following her? He looked up at the ceiling as he questioned his own motives.
Yet, once she was on the move from the patio, he dipped back behind the door to the stairwell and watched her move toward the infirmary. Great, now he's hiding from her. There's obviously something wrong with him.
Once she was receiving the care, Kane decided against his own medical needs. He was used to it. He wasn't the kind of guy that could just go to a doctor's office or the emergency room. Instead, he found himself wandering toward the patio and flopping onto a long reclining patio chair.
Even though he closed his eyes, he could feel everyone's stare burning into his soul. Without opening his eyes, "It wasn't me. I helped her." The way he answered the question before it was even asked was indicative of someone who might be used to being a suspect. He didn't need the neighborhood wild cats or the resident demon on his ass.
"No more questions," he concluded rather coldly, and let his eyes close so that he could rest a little bit more. He could have gone to his room, but the air was nice and he's subconsciously waiting to make sure Myla's wounds were taken care of.
Not that he was going to admit it.