"There's something here, I know it," the devil himself says as he leans in close.
We lock eyes and, as he brings his lips near mine, I wonder if I'm going to melt into a puddle. Am I so desperate for affection that even this bastard will sate me? No, it's because of who he is that I'm desperate for affection. I want to be loved. I want to be loved by my family, by my friends, by my enemies. Why won't anyone love me?
I throw my arms around his neck, standing on my toes to reach him and kissing the man before he can officially make the first move. His body is warm and inviting, his lips gentle and guiding. When I wonder what to do next, he has me pushed to the railing, his hands grabbing the fabric on the back of my shirt so tightly I'm scared he'll rip it. If we fell right now, off the side of this 10 story building, I think I'd feel satisfied.
But, that doesn't happen. Instead he pulls back, breathing hard enough to match my own state of intoxication. He looks down at me, smug and handsome. If he's determined to catch me, then I'll simply have to beat him at his own game, somehow. I'm not a manipulator, I'm not charismatic or a master strategist. However, I'm smart enough to not blindly trust the man who stands to gain the most from my downfall, no matter how much I'd like to.
—-
I'm not entirely certain how to make it back to my apartment without drawing attention. Despite my best efforts to send him away, White was now personally escorting me back home. Perhaps his sudden gentlemanly behavior was due to the fact I could hardly walk more than a few steps on my own.
As we walk to my apartment I playfully cup my hands over his eyes, slipping them beneath his glasses as if to say he shouldn't be seeing this place. It wasn't as if seeing the inside of his rival's building particularly mattered– there was nothing confidential just lying out in the open. But, teasing him was fun.
When we make it to my floor he shooshes my rambling confessions, words I have no idea I'm speaking, and helps me to unlock my door. His smooth hands sneak beneath me, cupping my body and lifting me into his arms like a particularly cumbersome grocery bag. I can't help but giggle, and as punishment for my noise he drops me onto the bed.
"Uwaaagh," I groan, hanging my foot off the side of the bed so he can undo the straps of my shoe. He's strangely princelike, when he wants to be. "I feel sick…"
"Do you need to throw up?" He asks somewhat tiredly. Then, concern rises, "If you need to throw up, just wait."
I watch him scramble up and into the bathroom, returning with a trash bin to keep beside the bed. I kick my feet a bit just to tease him as he resumes helping me with my shoes. When they come off he yawns and sits beside me, tracing his fingers along the top of my hips down my legs.
"Your room smells like cigarettes," he comments, obviously prying again.
"That's just 'cause the hall~" I yawn in response. "I'm not allowed to have boys in my room~"
"Are you kicking me out?" He chuckles.
"I was thinkin' I should hide you under the covers, actually," I smirk before worming my way under the comforter and offering him a spot.
He puts his hand on mine, lowering the blanket down. He brings the pillow down closer to my neck, makes certain I'm rolled on my side, and tucks me in dutifully. I'm caught off guard by his tenderness, but unable to feel afraid of it. When kisses my forehead and tells me goodnight, I'm simply left unable to let go of the grip I have on his sleeve.
"Don't go," I mumble. "Keep me warm. Smoke a cigarette. Do anything other than leave me," I plead.
He hesitates, looking down at me now like I'm a stray animal he's not certain on how to shake off. I feel him lift off my creaky queen-sized bed and, to my surprise, watch as he pops off his shoes and slides under the covers with me.
"Your dad's going to think we had sex," he smirks at me.
"Eww, why are you thinking about him right now," I grumble, slipping off his glasses and squeezing him tight into my chest. Instinctively I run my hands through his hair, twisting silky locks in my hands and sometimes giggling. "Why do you hate him so much anyways?"
My question is meant with a fake snore. A full "Honk" and then "Shooooo". When I prompt him more he continues the charade, ultimately silencing me by switching positions so I was muffled by his chest instead.
"Get some sleep. I've got big plans for both of us."