"Morning...."
Vax murmured, knowing someone was there. He knew it wasn't Justine, since she'd already been and gone. The person here wasn't exactly hostile or else he would have been dead already. He arose slowly, checking to make sure he hadn't been tied down to the bed. Kinky as that would have been, he wasn't up for restraints so early on the morning. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, knowing he needed a shave desperately, scrubbing away the last remnants of sleep. He would crash later, but right now, he needed to figure out who the fuck was in his apartment and messing with his things.
The person in question didn't seem to hear because sounds still invaded his ears but not a voice. A sizzling sound hit a pan and his eyes open, focusing on the kitchen that was in his line of sight. Someone with black hair was making breakfast. Despite his income, he had picked a small apartment, so it wasn't hard to lean over and see that a woman was in his kitchen. He didn't get a shot at her face, but from her curves that he could see...all he could do was whistle. Unlike before, she seemed to have heard this and turned, piercing him with alien colored eyes that spoke volumes about her temperament.
"What are you whistling for? Get up and come get breakfast."
Snappy was indeed in her attitude, but her voice...it was the kind of voice someone didn't forget because it was velvety smooth with a lilting accent he couldn't place. It was faint, hardly noticeable, but then again, he noticed the little things. Like how she had a two small beauty marks below her left eye in row, adding just a bit more mystery. It was odd how clear and pale her skin was - not exactly sheet or snow white- but it had a delicate glow like some woman did when pregnant. But this wasn't the same. Not by a long shot. His senses started to rise the hairs along his skin and she noticed the reaction; he could see it in the slight narrowing of her eyes but then she shrugged and went back to cooking.
"Your....eyes.."
Was that his voice sounding so hoarse? He didn't believe he could sound almost...frightened. Grabbing the blanket tight a moment, he forced his hands to release the covers and throw on some boxers. He was overreacting. Her eyes really weren't like liquid pools of coppery gold. No one human had eyes like that. No one human so they had to be contacts. They had to be.
"My eye color is not your concern, nor is it synthetic in anyway. Come have breakfast before I throw it at you."
He froze, the waistline of his boxers snapping hard against his skin, making him suck in a breath of pain. Rubbing his stomach, he looked over at her. She looked like some normal punk ass, a sexy punk ass, but she was still a Goth. Not that he had any real problems with Goths, but more were whiny and just...all that black got on his nerves. Besides, they all looked the same and well, she didn't look anything like them. And yet her eye color...she said it was real and he believed her. Stopping in the door way he realized he had felt some ring of truth in her words - as if her eyes were really that stunning and intoxicating color or that she'd throw his breakfast at him. What the hell was wrong with him?
She started to hum a tune, something soft and melodic, foreign sounding in nature. He wondered if perhaps she was from Ireland, or Wales. Something about her said fey or fairy folk as they were known. He'd never seen a fey, didn't really know if they were real, but perhaps this woman...
It's too early for this much thinking.
Grunting to himself, he went into the bathroom and relieved himself, thinking about the way his life was turning. Some random stranger had managed to get into his apartment. Justine hadn't been able to lock the door so that made sense. This chick obviously believed that her eyes were naturally that color -which, despite his instincts, he thought was total bullshit- and...and...why the fuck was she here?
He took his time shaving his face and getting himself decent before he stepped out to see an array of different foods. She had already cleaned and put away the pans she had used, looking at the food in a perplexed way. She looked almost nervous. Did she not know how to cook? It all looked rather delicious, if not off in a little bit just from his viewpoint. Still, he sat down, grabbed a sausage and bit into it. It was pretty good and as he chewed, he hoped he didn't suddenly die from poisoning. It was then that he felt he was being stared at. The woman seemed intent on his reactions, as if she'd never cooked in her life or maybe...
"You hungry?"
He asked, staring at her, her eyes were banked like she knew the color bothered him, or perhaps she was just annoyed with being here. As he stared, her aura came into view and was...strange. It was shimmery white with red outlining her body. It made him think of passionate innocence. She looked hardly innocent, even with her cartoon t-shirt. But he saw it then in her posture, in her closed off expression, that she really was an innocent person. Swallowing the last of the sausage so he wouldn't choke, he asked a different question.
"Are you even legal?"
That earned him a glare that only made him laugh at how intense it was. He almost felt right out of his chair, his insides hurting. She gaped at his reaction, her cheeks darkening to red streaks as she crossed her arms over her chest, making an angry sound that faded with a huff.
"Yes, I am legal! Jeez, what is it with males and needing to know such nonsense? You shouldn't be looking at your youth that way, regardless."
He wiped his eyes as he listened to her speech. It was formal, almost old world in the way she worded it. Though it did have a modern edge, she could have fit in with high society if she tried hard enough and dropped the easy anger she seemed to carry around like a shawl. Leaning over the counter to get a better look at her, she backed up as if afraid he'd touch her. He couldn't help but grin, noticing that the color of her eyes didn't bother him so much. Her reactions were distracting.
"Oh? Then why do you seem so afraid?"
"Ha! As if some male could lay harm to me."
Again, he heard that little ring of truth that made him want to believe her, but he was intrigued. This woman was practically half his height and half his weight. She looked almost fragile compared to him and his muscular frame. He got off his stool and she looked at him, curiosity staining her expression along with the last remnants of a blush.
"What are you doing?"
She asked, loosening her stance before tensing up as he prowled around the island to stand in front of her. She was so small in a way that was only feminine and he could hurt her so easily. For some reason, he felt a protectiveness arise and the need to prove that she could be hurt. And needed to be kept safe like something precious. He crowded her until she was pressed against the fridge, not looking a bit afraid but rather wary of him and his closeness. He could catch her scent now over the smell of food and it made him inhale more deeply. It was rich with cinnamon and nutmeg, mixing with lilac and vanilla, and all woman. It was such an odd yet enticing scent. Her aura shimmered as he watched, the edges darkening a bit as her emotions ranged. Interesting...he'd never seen someone's aura change like that.
"You really think you can protect yourself against someone like me? A guy like me? You're small and fragile looking. Anyone as big as me could take what they wanted."
He caged her against the fridge, moving quickly to grab her chin and make her look him in the face. Her skin was smooth, like velvet, and hot beneath his hand, making him shut his eyes a moment before opening to catch her expression. Her breath caught as she looked up at him, eyes dilating a fraction. She seemed paralyzed, as if...she'd never been touched before. He still didn't sense any fear, more like nervousness. He leaned in close, seeing her eyes narrow into a glare he was coming to like.
"You can't even move right now. What's to stop me from doing anything I wanted to you and your body?"
The words seemed to snap her out of it and she grabbed his wrist, moving his arm like it was nothing while he strained to keep his hand in place. His whole arm felt like it had numbed up from her touch, almost like it was burning. He made a pained sound and she let go, dropping his arm. He was surprised to find there wasn't a bruise. He rubbed his wrist, feeling tingles in his skin. She glared at him still before she leaned more casually against the fridge as if she'd been in his place all her life. Like she belonged there.
"You can't hurt me like you think. I'm not like your women."
She huffed, as if it was an insult to be compared to other women. As if she was above it all, or maybe because she felt they were weak? She certainly wasn't weak, he thought, as he rubbed his wrist still, feeling the strength return to the limb.
"My women? What do you mean by that?"
He snapped, suddenly feeling like his world was about to slip out from under him. She took a deep breath, looked him square in the eyes, a look so pained yet proud that he had to take a step back to take it all in. Her body language was all about nerves. If she wasn't pissed, she was nervous, he was coming to find out. As if she didn't understand how to handle people - much less him.
"Yes, your human women that parade around either like candy or sometimes like your men. You humans are such odd creatures and I am not one of you."
She combed a finger through her hair as he gaped at her. She wasn't human? Bullshit!
"That's crap."
"It is not!"
"You look human. You look like the embodiment of a human fantasy so there is no fucking way you aren't human!"
"Do humans have my eye color? No, they do not!"
"Shut up!"
"You shut up! You think that just because you have the Sight to see beyond the surface that everything should be handed to you. Well, then look harder at my profile and see what you have not seen."
She stared hard at him and he stared right back, unwilling to back down. They had started yelling and now there was just the heated silence that followed. He murmured how ridiculous this all was before he really started to look at her. Her skin glowed in the faintest way, her eyes were not normal in color - her only real give away- and her aura was unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. And then, then...he started to see the outline of angelic wings. They appeared like an echo against her back, showing the edges of the feathers and indiscernible color. Her wings weren't white, they were this blackish color with the edges of red and gold mixing in, making him think of a warrior for some reason. Staring at her, and then the shadow of wings, he backed up into the wall, almost tripping into it. Her face went paler - as if it were possible- and he must have looked horrified. She looked like she'd been slapped.
"Stay the fuck away from me."
He breathed as she reached out. Her hand dropped, anger replacing the faintest shadows of her that had lingered in her eyes. Wherever she was from, obviously, being what she was wasn't something horrific. It was her beauty and her stature, and everything about her that was suddenly horrific. He felt like he was staring at an Angel of Death. That's what he felt. That's why he felt so much like she was unreal. He was going to die.
"I am not here to take your life. I am here to protect you. I am considered a young warrior where I come from, my wings depicting my station as a Givariine.. My name...is Israfel. I am here to protect you. I'm what you humans would call a Guardian Angel and some force is out to take your life because of your Blessing."
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