Ace (HS)

Fair Game

Her knees were bent, dark hair fanning across the leather, body curled into the couch. Her eyes, threatening to flutter shut out of boredom, were fixed mindlessly on the large screen of the television, some random reality show playing. She wasn't paying much attention to it, though, her mind caught up on her impatience and... was that excitement?

She glanced at the clock on the wall, reading it for the tenth time in the past minute, as if looking at it would somehow make Harry come back quicker. Her stomach was fluttering with an unusal feeling, and she couldn't help but be worried by it. She was laying there waiting for him, her hair curled to perfection over her shoulders, and one of his large white button-ups hanging loosely on her small frame. The only other article of clothing adorning her was the black lace hugging her lower region. The feeling of having to do her makeup and hair precise did not go unnoticed. She wanted to look perfect for him, to the extent that she was almost nervous. She had drawn the thick layer of eyeliner over the lid of her eye about three times, wiping it off because it wasn't straight enough or thick enough, and then finally settled with the way it looked the fourth time. It seemed that the eager tremble of her hand had made doing her cosmetics rather challenging.

The last time she had felt this way was when she was sixteen. Innocent and young and not yet tainted by the harshness of reality. It felt like a lifetime ago, back when she was in high school. It was the night she had lost her virginity, and she could just barely remember the way her stomach had fluttered nervously as those hands had touched her where no one ever had before.

"I need a drink," she murmured to herself as the show she was watching ended. All of this nervousness and the fluttering in the pit of her stomach- this was not Carmen Vicino.

It was making her sick.

She got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen, the bare soles of her feet padding against the marble flooring. Propped on her toes, she searched through one of the cupboards, smiling triumphantly when her eyes landed on the bottle of scotch. Her arm was outstreched, reaching for it, her fingertips barely grazing over the glass. She huffed childishly in frustration, lifting herself up onto the counter and sitting on her knees to gain some height. She reached for it again, tongue swiping over her lip in focus, and eyebrows lowered. Her hand wrapped around the bottle, but she wobbled slightly, nearly knocking it over.

"Woah there."

She nearly shrieked as two large hands placed themselves on her waist suddenly. Her body was removed from the counter, an arm hooking under her thighs, the other arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her closely to a warm, thick chest.

"When did you get here?" she blinked, peering up at the strong-cut jaw and amused eyes of her captor. Her arms thoughtlessly wrapped around him as he continued to hold her up, her hands feeling at the small curls hugging the nape of his neck.

"Like right now," his lips curled up as he looked down at her. "You were too caught up in your determination to reach that bottle to notice."

"Oh."

Something looked different about him as she stared up at his face, as if in a trance. His eyes didn't mean hers fully, and his pupils were wide so that only a thing ring of the emerald green showed. His skin seemed to cling looser to his cheekbones, giving a tired, unkept appearance.

She frowned and reached her hand up to cup the side of face, the soft stubble tickling the palm of her hand. Carmen didn't know why, but she felt the need to ease his obvious stress. She didn't want him to feel anything other than content and pleasure.

"How were your work meetings?" she asked, her voice light as her hand caressed his cheek. He nearly purred as he leaned into her touch, the coldness of her hand awakening every nerve in his body, and the softness of it making him want to fall into a deep sleep, with her in his arms.