Eternal Love (Snowpaw and Rosita)

Samara reached over and picked up her ringing phone, laying back in her bed as she answered. "Hello..?" Shock coursed through her as Amsu spoke on the other line. It took her a minute to process his words, but was soon smiling. "Actually, if you would like... A couple of friends and I were going to hit a rave- er... Party tonight. One of my favorite dj's are there tonight."
 
"That sounds good." A pause, as he thought about something. "You'll have to forgive me. I've never been to a rave and I don't have the slightest clue what to wear to such event." Raves aren't Amsu's type of thing, but if it meant making Samara happy he would try it.
 
She chuckled. "You'll hate me..." she said. "but if you would like, you can come over. I'll dress you. We are going to a sort of acid Egypt thing..." her eyes sparkled as she spoke. He would probably dislike the engery, the heavy beats, flashing lights, or the scent of adrenaline in the air. But... She didn't feel quite safe going by herself anyway.

Besides. She would make him have fun, she decided, chuckling as she have him her address.
 
Acid Egypt thing? He wonders what on earth that is. But he guesses he will find out soon enough. "I will be over a few minutes them," he says as he hangs up. As promised he is soon getting out of his car at her house, unsure of what the night will bring him.
 
She appeared at her doorway to usher him in, her long black hair falling over her hips, strings of gold woven through it. Her eyeliner was applied with a tinge of neon gold, the light showing the shower of sparkles. Backing up, her outfit was similar to what female pharos wore, only shorter, and the white was simply millions of glass beads hung to conceal the skin that would show when she moved. Her heels were painfully tall, and looked like white vines crawling up her skin.

Holding up a loose pair of white pants, and a shirt similar to her own, beaded with white tiny glass beads, she smiled. "I can do your hair..." she said.
 
An eyebrow raised when Amsu saw her heels. They had to be murder on her feet. Though even her can't deny that heels make a woman look sexy, for their he insists that they where something a bit more comfortable usually. "My hair?" This could be really interesting. Hopefully Samara isn't intending to put make up on him. He hadn't worn make up in ages. Distantly he remembers putting kohl on his eyes daily for protection from the sun and the evil eye.
 
Samara smiled and pulled him into her home, handing him the clothing and ushering him into her bathroom. "They should fit, I'm usually good at guessing sizes," she called from the door. Once he was done she stepped in and made him face the mirror. Grabbing her brush, she began running it through his hair. "Your hair is so soft..." she said quietly, smiling as she teased it slightly to have the shorter top layers stand out more, spiked at the ends slightly.
Turning him, she crossed her arms an looked him up and down.
"Something is missing..." she said, then her eyes locked on his. "I have some eyeshadow that would go good with your skin. Pharos all had that eyeliner stuff... May I?" she looked like a child with a new toy, playfully holding her hands out in front of her and sticking out he bottom lip cutely.
 
The pants fit, but the translucent beads feel odd rubbing against his skin as he moves. "Thank you," he says as he watches her in the mirror run a brush up through his hair. "It was called kohl. They wore it to protect themselves from eye infections and other such things." He raises and eyebrow at her puppy dog eyes and pouting lips. A sigh comes from him. "Just a little. To much make up makes my skin itch."
 
She hugged him. None of her boyfriends in the past would suffer her when she was getting ready. But he was not just suffering it... He was allowing her to play with his look as well. Leaning up, she kissed his cheek. Then reached down and grabbed a small mineralwear container, about the size of a quarter. Pulling the lid from it, she set it down, reached for a small bottle of sheer primer and placed it on his eyelids and around.

"Thank you Amsu..." she said quietly, leaning in to put a small line of black around his eyes, similar to what he wore... She stopped. Frowning she bit her lip and finished. There is no way... But she distinctly had an image run through her head of him sitting beside her, looking down. No placement really just the image of him beside her in a strange garb.

"Done. Do you like it..?"
 
Amsu gives a resigned sigh when she hugs him and takes a seat on her toilet, offering himself up to be done with what she wants. While Samara applies the primer and eye shadow, Amsu's eyes dart underneath, not quite used to gentle pressure being applied to his eyes like that. When she pauses a little bit he cracks open an eye to see why she had paused. Opening his eyes he looks into her bathroom sink male. "It looks good for a manly man wearing make up," he laughs with a small smile coming over his lips.
 
"Only a manly man could pull this off."

Her reply was teasing as she turned from him, he head thumping with a slight pain. Gathering her items she put them up neatly, and exited the room rather quickly. She knew him from somewhere, the memory too vivid to be made up.. Hands trembling as she pulled her purse up and grabbed her keys, Samara rubbed her forehead with annoyance.

"You ready to go?" she called out.
 
Amsu rose after her, the makeup itching as it dries. A look of concern crosses his features as he spots her handles tremble as Samara puts things into her back. "Are you feeling alirght? You seem to be a bit pale." He's ready to go, but he just wants to make sure she will be alright before heading out.
 
She shook her head. "Bit of a headache. Nothing too bad." she have a small smile, confusion lighting her gaze as she looked him over. "I've got to ask this... Have I met you before? I mean... You're so familiar"
~"I love you,"~
Her own voice startled her, the memory coming unbidden, and she quickly dropped her gaze. "Oh, never mind it. I must be a bit stressed." she said, getting into her vehicle and pulling hr seat belt on.
 
"If you're sure," Amsu quietly murmurs. For now he has to say no to meeting her before. " I do not think so. Unless you believe in reincarnation, then perhaps we might have met in a past life." The vampire gives her a soft smile. He is a bit startled when she says I love you. One fast of the fastest times that has happened. Silently he follows her to her car before pulling on his own seatbelt and waiting for her to take off.
 
Samara drove towards the building holding a few hundred people. She pulled in, shifting into park and shutting the vehicle off. Had she really told the man that she loved him...? It seemed like it came out of her mouth... but it wasn't her speaking. She frowned slightly, then opened the door, stepping out. The dark parking lot across from the building was nearly full, and she could hear music thumping from here. She smiled, then began walking towards her destination.

Stopping, she remembered Amsu was coming as well. Placing a hand against her head, she wondered why her mind was beginning to lapse odd things here or there. And where this pounding headache had come. She nearly dreaded the coming event.

Once Amsu arrived, she silently led the way through the door, the doorman recognizing her easily. She smiled halfheartedly at him and walked into a huge room filled with smoke, flashing green and gold lights, white and clear gems hanging around, and filled with people dressed in a modern version of clothing that was worn ages ago.

Samara took Amsu's hand gently and led him to the middle of the floor. As she moved, her clothing shifted, casting flashes of her golden skin and very nearly showing what need not be seen in public.

"Won't you dance with me," she asked, leaning up to say it into his ear.
 
Amsu took in the surroundings as she parked the car. How many vehicles, what types, colors, a few license plate numbers. Keeping up with her, he continued his information gathering, the loud music even more so reaching his sensitive ears. He would certainly be in pain tomorrow evening when he wakes up. His green eyes take in her absent mindness, making sure that she's okay.

He nodded at the doorman, passing into a scenario he isn't familiar with. The smoke stings his nostrils, an itch spreading up his throat that he wants to clear with a cough. The gems aren't so bad, he had seen worse during the seventies, when disco balls had been popular. He followed simply after her, letting her take the lead in the unfamiliar situation.

He gave her a pleased smile when she asks her to dance. "Of course Samara. Lead the way."
 
Samara turned as he mentioned to lead the way, smiling a bit as her long lashes swept down, moving sensuously merely inches from him. Once she noticed his lack of motion, she chuckled a bit and reached back, placing his hands on her waist. "Move with me, as if we were the only two here... Let everyone else fade away. Just move with the need I know you've got to be feeling."

She turned again, her arms slowly reaching up to twine about his neck. In this position, she felt a beyond familiar pang. She saw kholed eyes looking back at her, a slow and loving smile curling before her, long black hair beaded with gold. Her heart thumped as she froze for a moment, eyes watering at the odd sense of loss she felt.

"A-Amsu..." she asked after a moment, slowly coming back to her senses. There was something... Horribly wrong here. The young woman shook her head and began to move against him once more, lowering her gaze.
 
He cupped his hand into her hips, pressing at the top of her pelvic bone. It's easy for him to mostly focus on her while still keeping his senses sharp for anything amiss. After all, hunters had caught up with him a in a few interesting places before. He draws her closer when she wraps her arms around his neck, his fingers pressing into her a bit persistanty. He looked down at her again, noting her stillness.

"Samara?" His tone is low, concern for her is voice. It's a tone he had used often with the women in his life, most often his beloved' incarnations. He keeps moving with her, wanting assure her that he'll take care of her. He does wish they're in a different place with a different style of dancing, so they could be close without a crowd surrounding them.
 
She fully became aware of the male slowly. Her eyes latched to his, and they were her anchor, when she felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin. The warmth of his hands, his body, against her made her give a small gasp, her face tinting with a fair dusting of rose over her golden flesh. Her heart ached with an unknown feeling, and her hands began to shake. His tone made her tremble, then one hand raised towards his face.

This man was hers. There was no way to prove it but the soul deep feeling inside of her. Her eyes shimmered with emotion that she quickly hid, looking to the clock. It had only been half an hour.. .

After about an hour of dancing and fighting off a headache, Samara grabbed his hand and led him to a darkened, nearly abandoned corner. She leaned her head against him, panting, smiling. She took in his scent, his warmth, him. "I just need room rest a moment.." she said.
 
Amsu pushed away the notion of time and simply held Samara, trying to give her as much comfort as he can. If she's trying to hide her emotions, he can still pick up on them. When she leads him over to the corner, he wrapped her arms around her again, lifting a hand to stroke her slightly sweat dampened hair. "Rest as long as you need dear Samara." He wouldn't put up a protest to having her pressed against his body. "Perhaps sometime we should try the dancing I'm more familiar with. Have you ever heard of the Mangrove ballroom?"
 
The young woman smiled as he stroked her hair, nuzzling into his chest for a bit. As his hands wrapped around her, she felt his fingers settle on bare skin, her beaded outfit shifting. Samara sighed and looked up at him, sparks traveling over her skin pleasurably. "I'm not, no. But I wouldn't mind the thought of becoming familiar."

She leaned up a bit, confusion on her face as this odd need settled in her, pulsing, clawing at her. She had to do this... Her lips were a mere breath away when she flushed and seemed to be shaken out of what was going on. Her eyes dashed to his as she froze, wetting her lips.
 
"I'll teach you how to dance there. I think you'll find something quite soothing about it," he says softly as he keeps stroking her hair, a pleasant warmth going through his own cold center as she stays close to him. "The ladies there will help you find clothing and shoes if you need assistance."

He tipped his head down, ready to meet her lips, not wanting to go beyond what she's comfortable with. His gaze is still steady for a second as she licks lips. He dips his head even more, touching his lips to hers softly, giving her room to move away if she wants to.
 
Samara remained unmoving for the briefest of moments as his lips touched hers, then gave a small sigh and moved in closer. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, lips teasing over his in a hesitant kiss. It was then that another image shot through her head with agony, of Amsu once again, dressed oddly, eyes dark. He was leaning over her, moving closer, and taking her lips with his own hungrily. Samara moved back, a small whimper escaping her lips as she hid her head in the man's chest before her.

Pressing a hand to her tingling lips, the young woman trembled. "W-Who are you," she asked quietly, slowly looking up at him. Confusion sparkled in her eyes, and she shook her head. Moving back and taking his hand she attempted to lead them out of the building, her head pounding with agony, black spots showing up in her vision. Some voice in her head warned her that she was about to pass out, and she wanted to make it out of her before she did so.

Once out the doors, she stopped suddenly and leaned back against Amsu, slowly sliding down as her vision fled her. The agony of the odd memories pouring into her mind had been too abrupt, too much.
 
Amsu wants to make their kiss deeper, bring her closer to herself. A brief look of dissapoinment flashes over his face when she withdraws, but know that she must be in pain when she whimpers and hides her head into his well muscled chest. He tries to keep her study, feeling her trembling through out his frame. This isn't exactly a good place to explain who and what he is, if she'll even believe him.

He held her hand lightly and followed closely behind her, ready in case anything happens. He's ready for her to fall gently into his arms, cradling her against his body as he holds her bridal style. The bounce gives her a curious look as he makes his way towards her car, easily carrying her. Very carefully he checked for her keys, unlocking her car and setting her into the passenger seat before buckling her in. He would take her home, tuck her into bed and stay with her for long as she can. Her home isn't set up to avoid sunlight like his own is, which could be a hazard come the dawn to him.
 
Samara felt herself being lifted, as if a dream. As Amsu carried her and then drove her home, the girl struggled to wake, fighting against memories that weren't hers. Each centered around the male she had just met. Most of them consisting of her waking up to see him looking down to her, a soft smile on his face. Or of him sneaking them into a corner for a quick and wildly passionate kiss. As if they were teenagers when she somehow knew they had been together for a few years. One in particular made her want to cry, and even had her eyes wetting.

He was laying beside her, the sky around them dark, the white cloth of their bed fluttering in a breeze. He held her hand and shifted, bringing it to his lips as his eyes looked her form over. She couldn't hear his words, but the ache in her chest made her realize that they were tender. The love in his gaze echoed the feeling.

She had never had that, not once in her life. Was she going insane? Perhaps she had seen too many crime shows... Samara began to fear she was developing an attachment to a stranger and fictionalizing a history between them...

She heard a click as if through a wad of cotton and shifted closer to the warmth of the man holding her. He must have brought her home... Oh joy. As she felt herself lowered into her bed, the girl weakly turned to look at Amsu. "Please... I'll be blinded by the light come morning. Click the button on the black remote on my dresser... It draws the shutters." Her words were weak, thready. But she had an odd case of photosensitivity. Until her eyes adjusted to the morning, she had to take it in stages or have a migraine all day. It didn't block all the light, but it was better than curtains or blinds, the black plastic sliding over the windows and shading the room out pretty well. It left enough for her to see by so she could adjust later.

Samara heard the machine working and reached out a hand, still halfway unconscious. "Please..." she said, reaching for him. "Don't leave me again..." And with that she was gone once more, eyes sliding shut and hand falling onto her bed.
 
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