Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was very unlike Sasha to feel the remotest urge to seek out companionship, and when she did there was always an underlying motive.

This was not the case.

She'd woken midmorning after a restless night - there were dreams that she couldn't shake, memories that clung like cobwebs. It felt a little too much like being human, and Sasha had little interest in that.

Swathed in a thick fuzzy robe patterned a la Lisa Frank in gaudy colors (and frogs, always frogs with their lifeless eyes and gaping mouths), shorts, tank and slippers, Sasha made her way to Evan's room. It was nearing noon, and she didn't know if he was in his room or not. She would never, never admit even to herself that she was feeling off, feeling a little too normal, a little too human - and she would never tell him that she simply did not want to be alone just then.

The small woman did not bother knocking and merely assumed the door was unlocked. It did not turn at her urging. Her mouth set in a line and Sasha hesitated. She turned from the door, took two steps before pausing, spun on her heel and marched back to the door.

Two hard knocks. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

Idiot. She couldn't believe the door was locked. Surely he wasn't entertaining someone, not while she needed him. The fact that he couldn't have known she'd be making an appearance never crossed her mind.

Sasha's very first instinct was to check the room number. Surely she'd come to the wrong one. Taking a step back, she glanced at the number: two twenty-five.

Well. Her eye twitched, just the slightest, and that was it - the only outward sign that something was a little off. Sasha schooled her expression into a crooked smile as she peered up at the woman that stood in Evan's doorway - a woman she very vaguely remembered from one mission or the other. Sasha couldn't recall.

It was obvious, then, that Evan had something of a type - and Sasha was not entirely certain how that made her feel.

Lifting her chin regally, Sasha slipped past the woman and fairly waltzed into Evan's room as though she owned it.

"Who are you?"

"Sasha."

She shrugged out of the robe and let it fall to the floor before she toed out of the slippers. The tank and shorts were almost microscopic, but they covered the bits that needed covering.

Sasha then slipped into the bed and pulled the sheet up around her.

"His flatmate?"

Again, more things she didn't want to think about. Instead, she smiled, a toothy, wicked thing.

I hold the leash.

"He and I ******** on occasion," Sasha fluffed the pillow and leaned back against it. It smelled of him, but not only of him. Oh, he'd pay for that, despite their agreements. "He's very talented in bed, isn't he? And sometimes he cooks me dinner. We once went to Los Angeles together."

She paused.

"You don't have your own room, darling?"

Sasha was still, pale blue eyes locked on the other woman in the room. She didn't have any kind of claim on Evan in the slightest, and she wasn't entirely certain that this woman posed any sort of real threat to her and her position in Evan's life. So long as he behaved and came when she called, that suited Sasha well enough - except it didn't really, not when there was a woman living with him. Living with him.

She wanted to claw him, bite him, mark him permanently so that it was well known who he belonged to - but it wasn't her right, because relationships were ridiculous and he'd likely demand the same things of her if she started acting too possessive, and sex was far too powerful a tool to relinquish.

Sasha patted the bed in invitation - come sit - as she sat like some sort of twisted, regal queen in a bed that was not hers.

"I do love Merlot. I've a wine cooler in my own room. Come tell me about yourself?"

"So proper," Sasha unraveled herself from the bed, having already made the point she'd wanted to make. There was the slightest baring of teeth that could almost be considered a smile if one stretched their imagination a bit, but ultimately Sasha did as was requested and padded towards the couch before taking a seat.

"Please, don't rush on my account," Sasha called, sinking her claws into the back of the couch. "What rank are you, darling?"

If Nora's words were meant to be insulting, Sasha didn't notice.

"Being a lady won't get you anywhere on the island, Nora. You can't expect me to believe you maintain your ladylike or classy beliefs, here of all places."

A pause.

"How darling, basic trainee. I'm full Hunter, Nora. You know, hard work, dedication - earning my larger dorm room. Some of us simply aren't lucky enough to ******** ourselves into a larger room with a kitchen and a bath."

She giggled.

"I'm sorry, darling, that was catty. Forgive me. I'd love to show you my room sometime. Do you like frogs, Nora? I collect them."

"I like you, Nora. You've a sharp wit that I can appreciate."

There really was something quite hilarious about the entire situation. Sasha knew exactly why she was being prickly, and it truly did irk her because it went against everything she believed in. Really, what it came down to was the simple fact that Evan was hers in the way her favorite pair of shoes were hers, or her lingerie, her weapon, her room. He belonged to her, and he was a very loyal subject -- and Sasha was determined to keep him close. Determined to keep a tight hold on the leash, because loyalty was not something that she could simply discard. It was important. It was crucial.

"Quite honestly I think they're horrid, but it's nice to have a hobby. I should have gone with elephants, they're far more adorable than frogs."

She leaned back on the couch, reaching up to tug free the pins that kept her mass of thick, black hair atop her head. The glossy curls fell about her and Sasha let out a low, pleased purr.

"Nora, dearest, what on Earth is taking you so long? If you can't find something to wear, darling, we'll both simply strip naked and sit about in nothing at all."

A pause.

"You can have him, you know. I don't mind sharing, so long as he's there when I require him. It really is as simple as that."

It wasn't. He'd pay, in private, much later. Living with a woman. Making committments. The absolute gall of the man.

"I'll pass on the wine, darling. A little too... economical for my tastes." She took her time giving Nora's physique a rather admiring look. A slow smile, and then a low purr, "Of course it isn't how I view him, Nora. That would be utterly terrible of me."

Sasha lifted up a lock of her hair and slowly, slowly wound it around a finger.

"Why do you ask? Is it important how I view him, or how I don't? Darling, it really isn't for you to worry about, is it? As you've said, his will is his own."

She fought the urge to laugh.