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Glad to have that particular moment behind them, Belladonna lifted her face up to look at him as he spoke, one step taken forward as he wrapped his arms around her. It was certainly the wrong thing to do, for as he spoke, the smile she had so carefully cultivated slowly began to droop until it turned into a full on look of horror. There was no warning before the words caught her from the inside, before the image of what he was saying formed so perfectly in her mind that all Belladonna could do was stare at him.
"What?" She asked, barely above a whisper, the hands pressed to his chest beginning to shake.
It was one thing that the Hunters had access to their world, their home and to them... But that they could bridge that gap so easily, could take one of their own and use them? It left not only a bitter taste in the witch's mouth, but made her grow colorless in all regards. The cool temperature of her lover seemed to fade from beneath her hands, the color drained from her face and all she could think of was grey.
"Who... Who was it?" More importantly, was it anyone the witch knew?

She winced then, as though she had taken a punch right in the stomach. Belladonna wanted to sit down, wanted to kick something all at once. It just wasn't fair. Just as they had the upper hand, just as Halloween had found something they could fight with, it was taken away with something sneakier, something crueler.
"H-how do we know who we can trust now?" Belladonna finally asked, as she looked up at Mort, feeling she looked far too fragile. But a fear had begun in the witch then, a feeling she hated because this was her home. It was fear of her own, of who she could and could not trust. And that was far more terrible, because that was what those jackdamned Hunters wanted. If they could make Halloween distrust its own, it could sneak in and slaughter them all.
Now she really wanted to kick something. First she couldn't trust the Horsemen who felt themselves so far above Halloween, and now she had to question her own trust of everyone she met. It was enough to make the witch really start to shake, her fists clenched around the front of Mort's shirt and her horrified face having taken on a rather unfortunate grimace.

Anonymous? Why had they done that? Why hadn't they told the entire school about what had happened? Why didn't more students know about this?!
A small voice struck up, tried to talk sense into the witch. Tried to tell her that perhaps, not everyone would take the right kind of pity in the victim, but instead view them as weak. After all, not everyone had the same disposition to believe the best in everybody much like Belladonna.
Still, it rankled with her and she clenched her hands tighter, so that her knuckles went white with anger. A few seconds ticked by where she only stood against Mort, mind contorted with so many emotions she couldn't pick which one to feel first. Fear ripped through her, as any of them could be next. All it took was one good fight in the Haunted House where a student lost and poof. Taken over. Worry took its place for a turn, because it could be anyone, any of her friends', any of her classmates, even her dear Mort. Disgust next, because who would stoop so low?

But all her thoughts dulled as a kiss was pressed to her forehead, as she finally felt that chill come back. The witch breathed then, a scent so familiar for more than one reason. There was an element to Mort's scent she knew, she just couldn't name.
Wanting that scent a little more she buried her face into his neck and breathed some more, trying to unwind all the little knots that had formed in her stomach. It would do nobody any good to let her emotions have control of her, not now. Now she knew, now she could be aware and let others know. Information was her weapon, it would cut a path for her if she could not take fighting action. And if she could create a path others could follow, that would be enough.

"You know this means you can't take speech classes now! Can't ever loose your 'mrrr'!" A finger poked Mort's chest for emphasis as the witch replicated his rumble deep in her own chest. OK, maybe she just kind of liked making that noise too. It was a bit of fun, really, to be so opposite herself for one little noise. And though the mood had soured considerably, there was still something she could salvage it with.
"Alright... I trust you to be you and I do know you." She managed a small, tired smile for him, to show that she was alright.
But worry still coursed in her. Someone hadn't known, someone had let their friend or love walk around and know something was wrong. Someone had let them in, taken their word before it had turned sour. It was awful enough that Belladonna committed herself to memorizing every little bit of Mort she could.

Though those zappingly negative emotions still resided within the witch, they abated a little with Mort so close. Maybe after he'd left the witch would scream and shout, throw something inconsequential across her room just to watch something hurt other than her. And while she was unaware of the tags, it was best she remained that way. Not only had Belladonna made friends with some of the captured, she would have unnecessarily worried about them. Already she felt all this worry welling up within her, but what could she do with it? What possibly could she use this for, to help someone rather than continue to harm herself?
It was something she would have to think on, consider before it ate her up from the inside. For now though, she concentrated on Mort's words. Ridiculous though it felt, the witch let out a small laugh.

"It can be difficult if one is unpracticed." She told him with a smile, unwilling to move her head from his chest. As for saying so little, the witch was a bit talkative to begin with so she let that one slip by without comment. A great deal could be said with a great deal of words, though mostly when a simple thing was said in an extravagant manner, it was the person's class and genteel qualities that spoke more than the individual. But it would have taken far too long to say all that and Belladonna rather liked hearing Mort speak for once.
"Papa talks like that quite often, but the others? Not so much. When are entertaining or doing business we will affect a more civilized speech, well, except Hemlock. But usually we just talk however we want. Especially with each other. Papa is the only one who even remotely talks like that all the time."
And his other question made the witch giggle a little louder, though she took her head away from his chest to shake it and look up at him.
"Hecate no! My father may sound pompous when he speaks, and even Delphinium will do the same, but my mother and Hemlock will not and neither shall I! Just be yourself. They understand zombies sometimes have differences in speech and I'd rather your present Mort wholly and untouched rather than some false version."
Because that was the Mort she had grown to love and so would her family. She kept those words to herself, but smiled at him nonetheless.

Shotgun? Not so much. In fact, Belladonna would keep her families weaponry a bit of a secret for now, mostly because it hadn't come up in conversation. That and Aye has yet to flesh that part of her family out
"If and when you all meet, do not fret. Things will go... As they go and we shall deal with him." Fingertips idly fingered the top of his t-shirt, brushing against skin idly as the witch concentrated on his neck stitches while trying to dispel the inevitability of their families meeting. "I hardly doubt this will be something neither of us can overcome, given what we have already been through."
And it was true. A family meeting would be almost easy compared to fighting over Hunters, fighting against Hunters and having to deal with such emotional trauma. Belladonna heaved a sigh, fixing a peaceful dinner with the two families in her mind, trying desperately to not think of that, along with everything else.

"Hot?" The witch asked absently, once more faintly lost in her own imagination. She stared up at him for a moment, before it clicked. Bit strange, really, to jump from such emotional topics to such carnal ones, but the witch's cheeks still flushed and she nodded vigorously. "Yes! Its rather warm in here... But, I think I need some help..." She replied coyly, batting her eyelashes up at him. Come now, Mort darling, you weren't going to get through this that easily. "Do you think you could help me get if off?"

Perhaps it would have been better to have taken the article of clothing off herself, seeing as how that way she could have made it vastly alluring without the potentiality of getting it stuck anywhere on her. As it were, the witch didn't give herself the proper amount of time to extract her hands, so she had to hustle to lift her arms in time, all the while part of the hoodie got caught up in all her hair. With a huff Belladonna stomped a foot and took a step backwards from Mort, hating that this wasn't going like she wanted. Next time you wear something sexy, you big dumbie.
It took a few moments of wrestling with it, along with a few angry squeaks, but Belladonna was finally free of the thing that she unceremoniously threw to the ground. All that was left now was the t-shirt, the skirt and stockings.
This was not going well. Where did they go next?!

Uncertain, Belladonna retraced her step and looked up at Mort.
"You know... I feel as though most of what we do is what I want... But... What do you want?" Hands reached toward his shirt to tug him down to her, but the witch stopped right before she closed the distance that would have kissed him. A smile unfolded, all curly and mischievous as she desperately tried to reclaim the romantic moment that had been on the precipice of having. "You can ask for things too..." She whispered to him, one hand snaking back up to his hair.

"I doooooo~" Belladonna agreed as she fluffed her locks out, glad to have such a heavy article of clothing off. Ugh, hopefully it hadn't made a rats nest of the back of her hair, but that was such a ridiculous thought that she put it from her mind. No! Now was sexay tiems.
Except only not because Mort appeared unwilling to take the lead. Honestly, the witch shouldn't have been surprised. She was the one who did the romance novel reading, she was the one who knew how to lead in a dance and she was the one who had done all the pushing. In attempt to keep from sighing dramatically she bit down on her lip, considering where to go from here.
You can do this. You can re-seduce your boilfriend. Belladonna told herself, bracing herself for doing something totally stupid.

Totally throwing whatever pride she had out the window, Belladonna did her best to gently, but still with a bit of force, push him against a nearby wall. Except now that they were there, errrmmmm...
Batshit, you are a ragingly huge idiot.
In any event, unsure of what else to do, the witch reached up and kissed him. Because that was always the answer, right!? Right?! Oh Hecate, she was going to mess this up because she had already used all her good moves trying to seduce him earlier and they hadn't worked all that well and aaauuuuggghhhhhh.
It was a frightfully good thing the witch had been able to differentiate her brain processes so that she could at once kiss Mort and freak out internally.

Two creatures could not be so dynamically opposed, as Belladonna let every emotion dictate her move, every whim decide her state and every thing she did she did on instinct. When Mort ever so slightly nudged her around she moved like water, liquid in his hands as she easily found the wall and allowed herself to be pressed against it. That was not what she had planned, not at all, but it also wasn't something she was going to fight. After so much time being the one to make a move, it was nice to be lead for once. The witch never cherished dancing quite so much with her sisters as when they would sigh heavily and placate her for one or two songs and lead her. Perhaps that was why every once in a while, she didn't mind surrendering her guard. Why she often took the lead when there was no one to fill the void, but also why when she grew weary of choosing, she could so easily hand the reigns over.

"Single? Afraid not, so sorry." She replied with a soft grin, her head tilting slightly into his hand. "I'm currently dating this absolutely wonderful zombie, he's very kind. Always trying to save the day, very brave he is. And extremely attractive. Tall too." Up on tip toes she went to n** lightly at the curve where neck and shoulder met before she kissed his jaw. "Why ever do you ask? Surely a dashing gentleman such as yourself has a lovely little ghoul already."
Figuring she had pushed far enough as it was, Belladonna scoured her mind for any possible reason why she shouldn't push a little more. Already they had established what they could and could not have, so what did it hurt to just be a little coy, to do what she wanted without fear of it being misconstrued?
Warm hands simply plucked the front of Mort's shirt before Belladonna snaked one hand around his waist and up to touch one shoulder blade, curious to know if there were any stitches on his back. She'd seen the front, but had yet to be granted to pleasure of his back. She was nothing if not thorough.