Reid Garwin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsdropin) wrote2009-09-06 06:24 am
letsdropin) wrote2009-09-06 06:24 am
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justprompts: You have the right to remain silent. Will you?
A/N: This is set somewhat in the future; the character featured is for now an NPC.
Reid kept his head in the crook of his arm on the pillow, watching the candlelight play on her skin.
It wasn't unblemished; her side and her back told a story, and it wasn't one of joy; nor one remembered fondly. She had been shy of showing it, at first - as though the way they'd been going, anything skin-deep could change things.
As though he couldn't remove the scars. Not that she knew that.
He very carefully suppressed a shiver, a tingle of anticipation. So tempting. It would be not-too-light a use; but it would also be just running his hand over her skin and leaving it smooth and perfect.
She shifted and sleepily murmured a question if everything was alright; maybe not shivering had meant stiffening enough to alert her. He made himself relax. "Yeah, everything's fine." Kiss on her forehead. "Go back to sleep, I'll be here a while more." Before he got up and got out and returned to his room and his roommate.
"Awake?"
"Not necessarily." Grin.
"Good. See about that."
"Yes'm."
He didn't use around her. He didn't use to make her sleep, now, either. For that matter, for all he'd bucked against Caleb's constant don't-use stormyface, once he'd gotten the full taste of it, and the initial exhilaration had faded a little... God. It was both so seductive and so frightening. They had been right; the powers had been nothing before that. They'd been all proud and happy with their tricks; after they got the full of it... The results were so much stronger.
And, he knew, so was the expenditure.
He knew which urn on Caleb's mantelpiece held his father's ashes; there had been no second funeral. He knew that ten more people, well, twelve if one counted Gorman and Sarah, could see the dried up body's ghost hovering over the small thing. Not really seeing it, of course; rather, imagining it. There nonetheless.
Their power. Their madness.
It was hard for regular addicts to resist; some, he knew, had to do terrible things to procure that which they were addicted to, destroying their lives into it sometimes faster than the substance, be it alcohol or otherwise, could destroy their bodies. He'd already seen that, in his, ah, academic career.
What they had... they didn't have to do anything to get their fateful use. They couldn't use external measures to stay away from it, either. It was always inside of them, always. Blood tingling in his veins. Perceiving more than most. Seeing lines of probabilities that he, than any of them, could make happen, with just a little effort. And the benefits, oh, when it happened. It was no delusion of the mind. It was real, all they could do was real. And it felt amazing, and...
... and he couldn't let himself think too much about that. Not now, not ever. It was too damn close, too damn easy. Too damn good. Instead, her turned a bit more towards her and nuzzled into her hair.
Her eyelashes tickled his skin as she opened her eyes again. "You're really not going to get any sleep right now, are you."
"Well, it's always a possibility, but... probably not."
"Want to tell me about it?"
He blinked, then shut his eyes. For a moment, he thought of it. Telling her about... well, the power. And the temptation. And the danger. All of the glorious and dizzying and horrible secret that he was. Maybe it could work out, the way it had for Caleb and Sarah, despite Evelyn's fears. But he couldn't find the right words. They all seemed... insufficient. Inappropriate.
So he just shook his head, mutely, eyes still closed. Loudmouth Garwin, choosing to keep his silence.
She shifted, and he didn't dare look to see her disappointment, but... instead, he felt her lips on his, and he did look, to meet her clear gaze. "Then maybe we could find something more interesting to do together than you watching me sleep."
"Oh, I don't really mind..." But then she shushed him with another kiss, hand moving down along his chest. And further down, and... "... either way."
Then he met her lips halfway, hands moving along her back, fingertips very gently over the scarred part, then up along her neck, into her hair. There weren't many questions after that.
Reid kept his head in the crook of his arm on the pillow, watching the candlelight play on her skin.
It wasn't unblemished; her side and her back told a story, and it wasn't one of joy; nor one remembered fondly. She had been shy of showing it, at first - as though the way they'd been going, anything skin-deep could change things.
As though he couldn't remove the scars. Not that she knew that.
He very carefully suppressed a shiver, a tingle of anticipation. So tempting. It would be not-too-light a use; but it would also be just running his hand over her skin and leaving it smooth and perfect.
She shifted and sleepily murmured a question if everything was alright; maybe not shivering had meant stiffening enough to alert her. He made himself relax. "Yeah, everything's fine." Kiss on her forehead. "Go back to sleep, I'll be here a while more." Before he got up and got out and returned to his room and his roommate.
"Awake?"
"Not necessarily." Grin.
"Good. See about that."
"Yes'm."
He didn't use around her. He didn't use to make her sleep, now, either. For that matter, for all he'd bucked against Caleb's constant don't-use stormyface, once he'd gotten the full taste of it, and the initial exhilaration had faded a little... God. It was both so seductive and so frightening. They had been right; the powers had been nothing before that. They'd been all proud and happy with their tricks; after they got the full of it... The results were so much stronger.
And, he knew, so was the expenditure.
He knew which urn on Caleb's mantelpiece held his father's ashes; there had been no second funeral. He knew that ten more people, well, twelve if one counted Gorman and Sarah, could see the dried up body's ghost hovering over the small thing. Not really seeing it, of course; rather, imagining it. There nonetheless.
Their power. Their madness.
It was hard for regular addicts to resist; some, he knew, had to do terrible things to procure that which they were addicted to, destroying their lives into it sometimes faster than the substance, be it alcohol or otherwise, could destroy their bodies. He'd already seen that, in his, ah, academic career.
What they had... they didn't have to do anything to get their fateful use. They couldn't use external measures to stay away from it, either. It was always inside of them, always. Blood tingling in his veins. Perceiving more than most. Seeing lines of probabilities that he, than any of them, could make happen, with just a little effort. And the benefits, oh, when it happened. It was no delusion of the mind. It was real, all they could do was real. And it felt amazing, and...
... and he couldn't let himself think too much about that. Not now, not ever. It was too damn close, too damn easy. Too damn good. Instead, her turned a bit more towards her and nuzzled into her hair.
Her eyelashes tickled his skin as she opened her eyes again. "You're really not going to get any sleep right now, are you."
"Well, it's always a possibility, but... probably not."
"Want to tell me about it?"
He blinked, then shut his eyes. For a moment, he thought of it. Telling her about... well, the power. And the temptation. And the danger. All of the glorious and dizzying and horrible secret that he was. Maybe it could work out, the way it had for Caleb and Sarah, despite Evelyn's fears. But he couldn't find the right words. They all seemed... insufficient. Inappropriate.
So he just shook his head, mutely, eyes still closed. Loudmouth Garwin, choosing to keep his silence.
She shifted, and he didn't dare look to see her disappointment, but... instead, he felt her lips on his, and he did look, to meet her clear gaze. "Then maybe we could find something more interesting to do together than you watching me sleep."
"Oh, I don't really mind..." But then she shushed him with another kiss, hand moving down along his chest. And further down, and... "... either way."
Then he met her lips halfway, hands moving along her back, fingertips very gently over the scarred part, then up along her neck, into her hair. There weren't many questions after that.