Third time's the charm (CW)

Date and time: 31 march, 18:20
Place: Pedestrian zone, Oakheart
Weather: Sun is setting. Nice spring weather.
Clothing: White shirt, pink/purple skirt and high white heels. Hair loose, as reference.
Dedicated to: @Zechariah

Everything seemed to be going alright. It had now been almost half a year where Heather hadn’t seen anything to Zechariah, well, it was almost a year ago that they met for the first time. And once again, she had found her way to live without him. She no longer felt the need to find him – only to drink from his neck. She had completely forgotten how much his blood was different from everyone else’s.
This day had actually been mostly about herself, treating herself with a tour to the hairdresser, nail salon and lastly to go out and eat – all by herself. She didn’t need no one, but herself. Therefore, she also walked with pride in her white high heels, with long legs, in a swaying motion, so her skirt moved gently in her pace. She felt unstoppable and nothing was going to be in her way!

Except for him.

She was heading directly towards Zechariah who had just gotten out from a shop or restaurant of some sort. She stopped immediately, feeling how her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to relapse. Being addicted to a source of blood, who left whenever he wanted to, was damaging. It was so difficult to find a will to live, the days after. She couldn’t do that a third time. Her eyes were locked on him, and she chose to turn her side to him, while she looked for somewhere else to go. There was approximately 20 meters between them.

He approached. Just the smell of him getting nearer made everything so much more difficult. Was he going to beg to be allowed into her home? Was he going to be miserable and beg for forgiveness? For every step he took, she felt the need to get closer to him, and he didn’t make it easier. She felt how her vampire teeth started to show, even though she hid them under her lips. She tried her best to keep her eyes forward, looking for somewhere, where she could go until he was out of reach to trigger this lingering addiction. She wanted to leave, so bad. There was no way that he was going to get back in her life, just by approaching. Just before he could close enough to be in her arms reach, she chose to cross he narrow street heading for a jewelry shop she had eyed.
On her way, a suspicious man in a dark coat stepped in front of her, so she had to stop to not crash into him. She now stood in what would’ve been Zechariahs path. The man tried to convince Heather to buy something, but since she was so convinced about getting away from Zechariah, she didn’t pay the seller any attention, but just tried to pass by him, stepping to the side. But he followed. It wasn’t until he grabbed her hand and put a weed in it, that she gave him attention. The weed was vervain and it immediately felt like the weed was burning though her hand. She looked at him, keeping quiet and tried to pull her hand away from him, so she could shake of the weed and teach the ‘seller’ a lesson. But he didn’t let go of her hand. She would have to pull it back violently, “Stop it,” she hissed at him with a low voice. She didn’t want to create a scene, but the pain she felt only got greater the longer the weed was in her hand. She really didn’t wish to use too much of her power on this bump on the road. She just wanted to get away from Zechariah, so she wouldn’t want get addicted to his blood again, but at the same time, she could smell that he got closer.

She could smell and hear how Zechariah got closer. As he got all the way up to her, he pushed the man away. The man let go of Heathers hand and she pulled it towards herself, looking at it shortly, turning away from whatever Zechariah would do. She had to get away. She couldn’t stay near him. But she heard his incantation as fire appeared. Quickly she looked over her shoulder. Was he going to burn the whole street down?
The man who had hurt Heather whimpered as soon as the fire got close enough to make damage on his skin, and Heather could feel how everyone seemed top stop and watch the scene that Zechariah had created. The mumbling into phone calls to the police, was easily heard by Heather. They had to get out of here. Damn Zechariah. Always playing Bonnie and Clyde. She simply couldn’t be near him without being involved in some sort of crime. Zechariah let go of the man who seemed to collapse against the wall. Heather got eye contact with Zechariah. Fucking hell. As he started to move, she followed right next to him. Heather was normally overflowing with confidence and pride, but this was nothing to be proud of. An attached crazy witch ‘boyfriend’ who seemed to hurt anyone who hurt her. The worst thing, being that he always had to make a scene. Right now, she hadn’t wished for Zechariahs attention, and now she had both his and everyone around her. The green eyes focused mostly on the surface beneath her, so she wouldn’t trip nor fall. Heather had no hoodie and was wearing quite recognizable clothing. “A warning couldn’t have been enough?” she asked and glanced over at him, while she walked. Her senses were all over, ready to notice if any police were going to arrive. Hopefully they would have a couple of minutes to get away.

I did not think. She scoffed, of course he didn’t. He never really did, did he? A confident smile appeared on her lips, as he mentioned her outfit. He had noticed her. Though she hadn’t been thinking about impressing him nor meeting him, she felt like it was a goal she had achieved. Just like all the other times he had commented on her outfit. And he was right, she already knew that her outfit stood out, but being who she was, she didn’t mind being noticed. She was always able to get away if she really had to. She was extremely fast after all. She knew very well that he could feel the same pain as her – he didn’t have to remind her. She remembered quite clearly how she had been tied with vervain robes and stabbed with a holy knife. She would never forget the face of Elenora – nor his sweet brother Ethan…
He was clearly more anxious about the cops, because she hadn’t really been taking notice of them, and tripped over her own feet as he pushed her into an alley. She sprained her ankle, making a short pain run up her right leg. She hissed lightly before she looked at him, “That was your fault,” she sneered, knowing that he would have felt the same pain. She was wearing high heels for God’s sake! Luckily for her, she healed quickly, and the pain would soon be long forgotten.

He only stood still for a short moment, waiting for the police cars to pass before he was on the go again. She followed, almost as if she was a dog and he was her owner – except for the fact that in this case, Heather was the one owning Zechariah, or that was what she believed. She chuckled lightly as he mentioned she should run. He was actually kind for once. She wished to point it out, but something told her that this wasn’t the right time to point out that he had said something that would make people believe that he actually cared about her. “You could give me your hoodie,” she suggested. She could probably wrap the hoodie around her waist to cover the colorful skirt, and if she braided her hair, she probably wouldn’t fit the description people might have made about her.
Timing. Everything was about timing. Two cops walked out from an alley, and Heather quickly grabbed Zechariah’s arm to pull him into another alley so the two of them wouldn’t be recognized. “Kiss me,” she ordered him. Her green eyes looked directly into his hazel brown eyes. If he hesitated, she would wrap her hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. There was no time to explain that public displays of affection made people very uncomfortable. She would then move his body so his figure would cover for her eye-catching clothing.

When he shut her mouth in the first alley, by kissing her she closed her eyes for a short moment. It was a good enough excuse for her right now. It felt good, even though it was for such a short moment. She had longed for him, no matter how much she had been trying to deny it. Though she was slightly swoon, she was quick to follow him, and he denied her his hoodie. She just shrugged her shoulder as if was nothing. It didn’t mean anything to her. It was only to make her less obvious to the public, though her loose long red hair would be recognizable enough on it’s own.

He kissed her back. It was a lovely feeling. She had missed the passion he had, compared to the other men she had been with though the years. He was different – but he was also an asshole. The kiss stopped and she opened her eyes slightly slowly, being able to hear that no cop was around right now. And his whisper. She pulled on a smirk by his words. She let her fingers run into his hair, “Of course you have,” she whispered. She didn’t want to admit how she had missed him – his blood. She caressed his neck slightly, “And…” She slowly let one of her hands slide to the zipper of his hoodie. The hands with the manicured nails grabbed the zipper and unzipped it “You’re just going to stand…” Her hand slid underneath the hoodie and all the way to his back. Her emerald, green eyes looked from his lips to his eyes a couple of times while she moved her hand around and spoke. “Right there?” she asked finally locking eyes with him, waiting for him to take what he had longed for.

He took of his hoodie, clearly not just going to stand there and watch her glory. As soon as the hoodie was off his body, he pushed her up against a wall, making her smirk grow just a bit, chuckling satisfied. With a shift movement he pulled her shirt up from her skirt, making room for what he desired. Or did you just want to play with my emotions? Many would say he knew her well; he knew her just about as well as she knew herself – and sometimes, she was surprised by her own actions, even after all of these years. “It was definitely what I had in mind,” she only just got to say before their lips met again. Soft lips. Lips she had missed. She had missed the way they had kissed their way down her body, and almost as if he could read her mind, his lips left hers and started to travel down her torso. She leaned her head back with a satisfied sigh. It tickled, but in such a wonderful way.

From the edge of her skirt, he traveled up to her lips again. He made her feel so relaxed. All he needed to do was shut the hell up and not blame her for everything. She was showing just the same passion for him, as he was showing towards her. The presence of him made her feel more complete. Her favourite blood – right in front of her! She paused the kiss shortly, looking into his eyes; relaxed. Just for a moment she let herself enjoy the view, but then it felt like someone took off the pink glasses she had been wearing. “And you’re not playing with my emotions?” she asked back with a less warm and welcoming face. She didn’t wish for him to run off yet again. Her emotional state of mind wasn’t even good enough from the last time, though she had also had to deal with the fact that she had been tortured the same night. It had been a troublesome night.

I did not mean to. I am sorry. She had never thought she would hear him say such words. It made her raise her eyebrows slightly; showing that it surprised her. It almost seemed like he hadn’t realized that he had been playing with her feelings all along; him knowing that his blood was so delicious to her. Was he even thinking? As soon as he went back to kissing her, it seemed like the thoughts about if he was even thinking was thrown away. A small smile started to appear on her lips, pleased with what he was doing to her. She could feel how he unzipped her skirt and looked down at him; strands of hair falling onto the sides of her face. He pulled off the skirt, making her gasp slightly from the breeze that now hit her body. She leaned back onto the wall and let her hands rest near her hipbones, close to the edges of the lining of her panties, and whenever he got close, she caressed him slightly.

At one point his teeth caught her panties and pulled them down; it made her look down at him, slightly short of breath. Since the panties was removed, she raised her leg one by one, making them fall onto the dirty ground. She had no time to stop him before he let his tongue pleasure her between her legs. She sighed in pleasure and leaned her head back to the wall again. “I-…” She tried to find the words she was looking for, but it was darn difficult when her whole body screamed yes; screamed ‘you’re doing everything right’. Words were put in and out of her head, as she tried to find the correct sentence which wouldn’t make him feel like she played with his emotions.
She gave herself a mental slap and she looked down at him, trying to put a lid on the pleasure, just for a moment, “Are you sure you want to do this?” she whispered. She had absolutely no boundaries, but she had in fact never done something so obvious. She was only dressed from her bellybutton and up. Usually, the partners she had sex within an alley would be more discreet and only move her panties to the side before they would penetrate her. But Zechariah also knew better than to do just that – except for the fact that she felt quite lonesome being the only half-naked person – though so little dress code never really bothered her.

As he stopped, she looked down, along her half naked body to let her green eyes meet his. He wanted to do it, but maybe not in a back alley. She pulled a smirk and moved a hand to help him up, clearly telling him that they shouldn’t be doing it here if he didn’t want to. “Pull up my skirt, and let’s go home,” she whispered seductively.

She tugged her shirt into her skirt and grabbed her panties from the ground letting them dangle form her fingers. He got his hoodie and with her free hand she grabbed his. Her hands were delicate, soft and taken care of. “Let’s go,” she said before she gently started walking. She had a car. Heather never really took the trains anymore. Unless he couldn’t wait, she would start the engine on the yellow sportscar and drive towards her place – not minding the speed limit. If they got so far to reach Midnight Street, she’d pull up to her house, turn the engine off and approach her house. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following. “Come on,” she said with a smirk.

As always, Heather didn’t follow the speed limit. Far from. As soon as they got to the highway, he leaned down to continue what he had done in the streets, making her moan slightly. She spread her legs slightly, to make it easier for him, before she let the hand closet to him caress his back and his arm. Just as an extra way to tell him that she liked it. As soon as she had enjoyed herself to a point where she was just about to stop the car to continue on the side of the road, she chose to stop him. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away before she put her hand onto his chest to silently tell him that he shouldn’t continue. Patience.

He followed her, almost like a loyal dog to its owner. As they got to the door, she opened up, letting him get inside before she closed the door behind them. Locking it. “Now… Let’s pick up from where we left,” she said with a loving smirk as she shipped her skirt up letting it fall onto the floor before she let her arms find their way around his neck, pulling him closer to give him a passionate, loving kiss.