With heart pounding and hands alight with nerves, Maktov almost felt like a teenager bringing home a crush for the first time. The fact her scent enveloped him didn't help matters. Thalia had found him a tee-shirt - a promotional item from an art festival - to wear. Though, he still wore his ragged, blood-spattered pants.
Memories of the attack flashed through his head. That had been the last time he'd entered the apartment. The anxiety doubled, making his heart thrum harder in his chest.
He ignored his body's reactions to the images as he shoved open the door, entering his living room. Thalia followed at his heels, eyes already drinking in the interior.
It was dark, she noticed. Not pitch black, but darker than she was used to. Especially as the front door swung shut behind her. "Do you have any lights?"
Maktov made a sound, but as something clicked, gentle illumination poured from the ceiling light. When she could see, she realized he had a dimmable light knobs at his disposal. Which made sense, she realized.
In the growing light, Thalia began drinking in the details. Spartan was the best description for his decor. A plain couch, a coffee table, greyish carpeting, an average-sized television. Though, the bookshelf caught her eye, crammed with books. Other than a book on the coffee table, the room seemed clean and tidy.
There were no photos or art on the walls, however. Nor trinkets or baubles that littered her house.
The apartment was a small one-bedroom sort, with an almost square layout. The front door led to the living room and, a little to the right, a kitchen with an open space for a small table. Then there was the bathroom, she could see, at the juncture of the hall, and - presumably - to Maktov's bedroom around the corner. Very straightforward.
When the lighting reached the 'theater before the previews', he stopped. Though he itched to hear her commentary, discipline turned his feet toward his room. "I'm going to change."
"You should probably pack some stuff, too." She turned to him, head cocked to the side. "If you're going to be staying at my place for a bit?"
Maktov paused as he turned the corner of the hall, toward his room. For a moment, he mulled over returning to his apartment. To the quiet emptiness and solitude. To the independence. Part of him enjoyed the liveliness in Thalia's home. But could he continue to wear on her goodwill?
Worry repeated the attack in Maktov's head, making his healing injuries ache along with his chest. He concentrated on keeping his tone even and detached. "If it's not too much of an inconvenience for you, I'd appreciate it."
He quickly darted down the hall, to the thick dark haven of his room. Behind him, Thalia's voice taunted him. "It's no problem, at all. I really like having you around, Maktov."
When he'd gone, a bedroom door clicking in his wake, Thalia hummed to herself. Her gaze flicked to the bookshelf, tempted to nose through his selections. However, a more responsible part of her turned her toward the kitchen.
As she flipped the light switch, the overhead light shone blearily down. He must have taken half the bulbs out of the fixtures, she mused, as she riffled through the cabinets and the refrigerator. If he was going to stay with her, it made no sense to leave perishables behind. Besides, she should poke around and see what sorts of foods he did enjoy.
While Thalia got nosey in the kitchen, Maktov darted about his room. After finding his duffel bag, he changed and gathered miscellaneous clothes. At the back of his head, he had a mental list of things he needed. Underwear, socks, shirts, pants, toothpaste, toothbrush, floss, back-up glasses, documents for work, phone charger... What else would he need while at Thalia's place?
He paused, eyes focusing on his duffel bag and the items inside. Tingles trailed up his back as he eyed his bedside table. The condoms and lube taunted him from inside the drawer.
Dragging his gaze away, Maktov tried to forget the thought even crossed his mind. He could only imagine two scenarios as that result.
One, she'd stumble on the items and tell him last night had just been a result of high emotions and being overwhelmed; she cared about him and she'd be too nice to kick him out. But that'd make things awkward.
Or situation two. The condoms and lube would tempt him to pursue. And he wasn't entirely sure where his head was at, as far as sex and relationships went. Would she think he was interested in something more? Or would she expect a casual fuck and just assume he felt the same? Was he interested? Or was he just craving something good after the trauma of being jumped and nearly killed?
As soon as the thought of sex and fuck and relationships hit his head, the memories of her lips, the kisses, the feel of her beneath his hands filtered to the top. He growled to himself - disappointed at his own lack of restraint - as he shoved items a little more forcefully into the duffel bag.
"Maktov?"
He nearly jumped out of his skin as Thalia's hesitant voice came from the doorway, left open after he'd changed. Spinning around on his heel, he stared at her from the depths of the room. Thalia's gaze wasn't on him, but was searching the room. Perhaps looking for silhouettes of the furniture, maybe looking for him.
As he turned, and she caught the white glow of his 'eyes' in the aura, Thalia's gaze flicked to him. She seemed relieved, though her gaze did glance downward, squinting a bit. "Geez, if it wasn't for your eyes, I wouldn't know where you were at."
"It may have slipped your mind, but shadow demon." He made a motion to himself, before stopping halfway, realizing she wouldn't be able to see it.
Thalia still gave him an unamused look, clearly reading his sarcastic tone. "Anyway, do you have a cooler? Your perishables in your fridge shouldn't go to waste and I don't know how often you want to come back here."
"No, I don't have a cooler."
"Empty tote, then?"
Maktov gave her a 'mhmn' in reply after a brief thought, before trudging to his closet. After a bit of rearranging, he pulled a tote out, dumping its innards in a small pile on the floor.
"What was that?" Thalia started, already stepping into the dark room.
Already, the shadows were alert to her presence near him. He could feel the itch to touch her mounting. "Don't come in here."
"What, why not?" Thalia stubbornly attempted to find him in the dark, worry in her eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I just dumped some miscellaneous wires out to use the bin," he explained, realizing the sound of tumbling items had roused her concerned. He approached the door, to Thalia's gaze softening in relief. "Just don't come in here."
She reached for the tote, eyebrows furrowing. "Why not?"
He sighed, loudly, and racked his brain to explain. Even with her in the doorway, he could feel the pull toward her. "My shadows are stronger the darker the room."
"And?"
The heat licked across his face, trailing downward. "They're more corporeal."
"And?"
"Do you remember how it felt when we kissed in your bed?" Maktov still hadn't let go of the tote. It was as if he needed her to understand before he released the plastic to her. From the pink creeping across Thalia's cheeks, he knew she recalled last night. "Imagine that, but - wherever my shadows touched - I could feel it as clearly as if it were my hand and you'd feel it just as firmly, as well."
"Oh," she breathed, softly. He thought she understood, until she shrugged a shoulder and said, "Well, I trust you."
"Do realize, being a shadow demon, I'm more inclined to..." Exasperation turned his words into little spikes and struggled to find an appropriate word. His mouth closed, jaw muscle flexing, before he settled on, "I'm much more confident in the dark."
Thalia's lips curled into a smile. She got the feeling he was looking for repulsion or fright in her reactions. Not quite seeking it, but trying to spot it as if it was expected. And, for whatever reason, he thought she didn't quite understand what he was saying. It was almost adorable of him. "If I tell you to stop, I trust you'll stop."
Maktov's mind sputtered for a half-second, before cranking into overgear. If she told him to stop. If. No, she couldn't mean it that way. But there was teasing in her gaze and in the curl of her grin. Maktov's heart thrummed and the air locked in his lungs, considering how far to push this moment.
Thalia saw the understanding flicker in his eyes. Her smile tilted, amused as the light bulb flashed in his thoughts, and she finally wrested the tub from his hands. Though teasing him was fun, a part of Thalia reminded her that Maktov was injured. "Although, you really shouldn't try anything too strenuous. You're still healing."
She had barely turned around, her back to him, when dark tendrils shot out from his room. The tote tumbled from her grip as she gasped, shocked at the display. The shadows coiled around her - her arms, her legs, her torso - and pulled her back toward the darkened bedroom.
In her chest, her heart beat an erratic tattoo, caught between surprise and excitement.
Maktov's bedroom was so dark, she could feel the temperature drop. Her breathing hitched, realizing the shadows - though withdrawing - hadn't done anything indecent or groped at her. Though, she had the feeling Maktov wanted to touch her. Or maybe that was her own desire.
The bedroom door shut, leaving Thalia in complete darkness. She strained her gaze, looking for the whites of his eyes or finally picking out silhouettes in the room.
But she couldn't see a blasted thing. It was too dark for her eyes to adjust. Turning around, she sought her companion. "Maktov?"
His voice came from her right. "Hmm?"
She turned toward his voice, still searching for him in the dark. "What are you doing?"
"Testing your bravado, I suppose." Now, his voice came from her left.
"You suppose?" Thalia laughed, turning again, but only seeing darkness. Adrenaline teased her heart into a faster beat as she took a step closer. Faintly, she wondered if he was shadow walking to taunt her or if he was simply sneaky enough to creep around her. Her ears strained to hear the shuffle of his feet on carpet and she waited to feel some sense of disturbed air.
"Yes, well... a more thought-out response may embarrass me."
He was at her back, Thalia could feel his body heat this time and that kept her from registering the meaning of his words. She spun around. Something about the shadows in front of her nose hinted at proximity. Another step, her arm rising to reach out, she asked, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Thalia didn't get a chance to touch him. A shadow wrapped around her wrist, leading her in a spin away from Maktov. She wasn't left to stumble in the dark as he circled her, though. His arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her back flush against his front. Her free hand went to his grasp, fingertips digging into one of his forearms as if to satisfy herself he was there.
Maktov leaned close to Thalia's ear, his pulse pounding in his ears. Frustration made his words hard as he tried to only lightly hint at the complications, "I want to touch you, very very badly. But I don't know where that will lead or how you'll react or if either of us will want that."
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, registering his words and the feel of his shadows on her. Against her back, she could feel his heart pound and the firmness of his chest. His tendrils crawled along her arms, releasing her restrained wrist, teasing beneath the fabric of her sleeves. Another shadow edged beneath the hem of her shirt, as if uncertain to explore too far lest it upset her. Along her legs, more shadows caressed up her legs, over the fabric of her jeans.
Heat simmered in her. She wanted his touch, however he wanted to give it. The hunger to feel his hands, his shadows, all over her body ate at her front he inside. Curiosity and thrill burned whenever his tendrils touched her, wondering how they'd feel against more sensitive parts of her. Wondering if they could delve into parts of her. His lips, hovering close to the stretch from her neck to her ear, made her think of his teeth, sharp and alluring and dragging over her skin. Again. Like last night. Thalia fought down a little, needy whine at the back of her throat before it could sound.
"You can touch me," she whispered, sounding lewdly breathless. Thalia swallowed, trying to appear less weak to wanton desires as she firmly added, "As long as you don't overexert yourself."
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