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 Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 7:23 pm
passing glances
He's on his way to the infirmary, bleary-eyed and despondent whipping into alert at the sight of him. Leslie doesn't flush but his skin crawls in that pinprick adrenaline way, fists clenched, nails digging into his palm.
His only saving grace is that he's wound up like a spring twenty four ******** seven, three sixty ******** five. There's hatred in his eyes and something else, unknowable, unsteady and indefensible.
The moment passes and he doesn't feel safe nor unwanted.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 7:25 pm
material
it's a note slipped under his door, a list of addresses scattered across the country.
A handwritten note, unsigned:
look them up
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 7:36 pm
swelter
They have to play nice, for the cameras. It's the jungle observatory, and while he can't feel the heat, not really, Leslie knows it's unpleasant. He keeps his head down and shrinks in small, eyes trained on his book. The Golden Compass, working on the same chapter for days.
Two hours can't go by fast enough.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 7:38 pm
whyStuck in a cycle unbroken, ouroboros of desire and shame and more, tied up in a game of want to not want, don't want to want, wires crossed and fear, so much of it. No wonder horsemen hunt them. Leslie scrubs at his face, and starts to clean his room.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 8:27 pm
passing glances
Isaac is not afraid; perhaps if he were a smarter man, he would be. It is far too easy to equate power with size - it is far too easy to forget that they are more than human.
The dot on his radar is a tangible thing, an itch just beneath his collar, the prickling of skin.
He says nothing. He doesn't need to.
He only watches, a dark glint in his eyes, his hands twitching just the slightest.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 8:32 pm
material
At first, he has no intention of looking anything up, but he's intrigued.
He's intrigued, more than any man has a right to be.
He spends an hour on searching the addresses.
He spends another hour making a list of his own.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 8:41 pm
swelter
The cameras annoy Isaac more than they ought to.
He's quiet, intent. Predatory and hungry.
He watches Leslie.
Two hours can't go by fast enough.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 9:28 pm
passing glances
As soon as it's done, Leslie has to resist the urge to slump against a wall and wheeze. The amount of energy it takes to not summon his weapon and try to cram it down Isaac's throat is almost too great to handle. The other urges, well.
It's just fighting.
(No one believes it, not even him.)
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 9:34 pm
material
He's been to most. When it gets too bad to ignore. They unleash a valve in him, pressure seeping out of his bones and clearing the fog from his thoughts.
But Isaac gets into his bones, and Leslie despises him for it. Despises the way he can't forget that he's more than just human. Maybe the location helped: it had been easy to forget he's now the super-powered creature he wanted to be, for so long, when the bar is dingy and no one knows your name, what you're capable of. It felt good, to slip back into the skin of something helpless, forcibly so.
And now that's been wrenched away from him. They're hunters, and he can never forget.
Maybe that's why Leslie's mind has been abuzz for days and days and days, his skin crawling with electricity.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 9:35 pm
swelter"Can you ******** not?" he finally snaps, muttering and low. Not that it matters; the cameras capture his every word anyway. "Quit ********, I don't know. Staring. s**t."
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 9:35 pm
whyThree days later (he knows Leslie's schedule well enough at this point), Isaac finds himself once again in room one-seventy-seven. It's clean. He knows. He takes a nice-looking jacket when he leaves.
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Posted: Fri May 22, 2015 2:44 am
whyThat ******** <********>. That was his favourite ******** coat, a gift from Abbi, one of the first, and--s**t. Leslie tears through his possessions like a hurricane, but it's gone. It's gone, and Leslie knows who has it. (Somehow, the idea of getting a better lock never really crosses his mind. It didn't with Stormy, either. Maybe it's because of the attention. All his stashed valaubles are elsewhere now, anyway. For the most part.)
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Posted: Fri May 22, 2015 10:48 am
swelter
Isaac tenses, just the slightest, and glances up at the cameras - each of them in turn.
"I will do as I like."
He continues staring.
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Posted: Fri May 22, 2015 10:53 am
why
He reads the message, still clutching the jacket in one hand. His reasons for taking it are not based in sex, or perversion. His reasons for taking it are much more primal than that. Much simpler.
Possession. An assurance that Leslie will remember what has transpired between them.
A dare. A threat. A promise.
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Posted: Fri May 22, 2015 12:31 pm
swelter
The muscles in his jaw clench and unclench. His lip twitches.
Leslie tugs his hood up and over his head, putting his head down to conceal the hotness of his face. (It's not the kind of pleasant blush that girls get over their crush. It's vile and fury and barely restrained motion, fingering the outline of Aleria on his wrist. What if.)
"a*****e."
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