* smiles * Keep going. I know this story ..... it's a good one to tell.

Last edited by FenrirFinale (2009-11-15 14:12:40)

lol

I need to send Fenrir a copy of the next part to make sure that it's appropriate to post.

Blending in had always been something she had been good at, but she was also good at sticking out at the same time. She was dancing when the boy walked up near her. The first thing she noticed was how good he smelled to her. It didn't make her thirsty, it excited her. But that wasn't her reason to be here tonight. She needed to stay focused. As she danced and survayed the room simultaneously, he leaned down and said in her ear, "You really shouldn't dance so hard, your skirt is riding up."
     "Then why not fix it for me?" she asked, part in flirtation and part as a challenge. His smile was almost more than she could take, but she didn't really believe that he'd do that. No random stranger would be so bold. She was reaching to fix it herself when, to her surprise, he reached his warm hands up and gently pulled down the back of the skirt. Heat rushed to her face and she turned around, ready to put him in his place, but then she saw his eyes.

Last edited by Midnight-Vixen (2009-11-16 08:01:57)

He walked into the crowd, learning, watching, waiting. The wall nearest him was vacant, and yet it was the perfect place for him. From here, he could blend in, he could also watch. It seemed as though it was mostly older youth here tonight. Twenty-year-olds looking for a break from the local college that weekend, but there were also younger teenagers there as well. Most of them were probably in the late teens, but that was just a guess. Most thirteen-year-old girls looked like they were much older these days. It was always hard to tell. Unless you actually asked, you'd usually never know. A boy and a girl hit the wall beside him, too busy making out to be bothered to see where they were going. The boy was easily nineteen, she had to have been twelve.
    He grunted. No matter how many shows he came to, he never got over how easy it was to be disgusted. 'You'd think they'd at least get a room,' he thought grimly. He pushed a bit further into the crowd, scanning it, looking for some sort of safe spot. He noted that three pits had started, mostly comprised guys, pushing, punching, dancing in their own ways in time to the guitars that were blasting, the singer who was now screaming into the microphone. The kids were still coming through the door, and the alcohol was flowing, even though it shouldn't have been at all.
    He eventually came to a spot where it was mostly a group of girls, all young, yet older than him, close enough to the pits to see who was in them and who wasn't, close enough to smell the blood that might fall. The friends he came with were all going about their business, most of them hanging out, dancing with the music, or in the pits themselves. The way the usually saw it, was that if you had to kill to survive, at least be a part of the party first. He adjusted the old black blazer he was wearing. He had a hard enough time dressing the part, let alone join in the fun. Maybe he would try that tonight. Or maybe not. He couldn't dance at all, he could talk to anyone on an intelligent level, but the casual pick-up wasn't his strong point.
    He looked down at himself. In addition to the blazer, he was wearing the only decent pair of jeans that he owned, which were ripped at the knees, huge gaping holes big enough to fit an arm through, and old black skate shoes that were worn but still in pretty good shape for all that they had been through. Looking down was what lead him to notice that one of the girls in front of him was exposing black and white panties while dancing. Her skirt was riding up just bit, and she was completely oblivious to the fact. He looked at her, and was stunned. She had olive colored skin, yet it was pale, with hair that was very dark even outside of the dim lighting. She was tall for a girl, but still shorter than him with long legs that were almost perfect. Almost, except for a few white scars just below her knees. 'Nice legs,' he thought with a small smile.
    One of the other girls noticed him watching and went to the girl and whispered in her ear. They both laughed a little. She was complete not deterred in the least bit. 'She's use to it,' he noted. Nevertheless, he walked closer to her from behind, lend close to her ear and whispered, "You really shouldn't dance so hard, your skirt is riding up." She laughed lightly, it sounded almost musical. "Then why not fix it for me?" she asked. He could sense the challenge in her tone, but that just made him feel more inclined to do it. He reached up her legs gently, took hold of the material, and pulled it down. She turned around, but then they made eye contact.

FenrirFinale wrote:

* chuckles * It's amazing really how you manage to capture both characters perspective at once. It's nice to see it from both sides. Keep writing. You've barely scratched the surface.

Don't you and I both know it.

You mean like the past?

Thank you.

You always did appreciate that about me. Speaking of writings, do you still have to stuff that I wrote you? I'd kinda like to get copies of them if you didn't mind.

....

Thank you for being honest.

I know.

Soon.

Last edited by Midnight-Vixen (2009-11-16 10:12:55)

I wonder where it's going to go...

That's to be determined...