Chapter Twenty Three: Heated

The first pint of mead tastes like straw mixed with soured honey. The next, I can no longer taste the sourness. By the third, I can't taste a thing.

Not a bloody, damn, Hellish thing.

I chuckle as I set the full mug of ale down with a heavy slosh, and the man beside me-- a man that was more rag and bone than flesh-- snorts awake, as if the noise of a mug being slammed in front of him was enough to trigger his reflexes. He gives an incoherent mumble, before disappearing back into the folds of rotten clothing.

The world sways a little as I lean forward. The sting of my lip, where the fight had broken out and Britta had socked me plain in the face, is no longer hurting. My pride, and my anger, are.

Damn it. Damn it. What would I do? What could I do?

Perhaps if I hadn't attacked my senior...perhaps if I had been diplomatic...

No! Pissed me roars. It's the fucking system, that's what. A system meant to keep the rabble at the bottom. As if they would ever let you meet Chronus with your shitty score.

Shitty personality, shitty score.

I take another swig. Oblivion. That's what I want.

Until a hand pulls me back.

'Ness, what are you--?'

The hand pulls on my shoulder, spinning me around on the creaky barstool. My head spins in the opposite direction, and all in all it gives me a woozy, ugly feeling. When my eyes focus, I see the most handsome man I'd known, standing before me in this hovel.

This dark, dingy pub in a back alley of Elysium's back alley, filled with wasters and layabouts and thieves and those that weren't functioning citizens of good society.

And he's come for me.

I want to touch his hair, curling from a damp that must be perspiration in this clammy, cramped pub. And he smells so clean, like a fresh winter breeze come storming through windows. And-- his face! Aaah. It's the kind of face that people believe they will see after death, when they reach heaven. Soft but masculine, shaved but rugged, and those ocean eyes boring into mine.

I open my mouth in gratitude, but only a burp comes out.

The man before me snorts, laughing. He takes the mug that's still in my hand, sagging over the table. With my hand free, it flies to reach him. Pulling on his brown blazer (where had he gotten that from? Last time I saw him, he was practically naked. Such a shame.) I stand by holding onto his chest.

It feels like I'm standing on a cliff edge. A cliff edge that's bloody shaking.

'Have you been drinking?' Hadrian asks, peering into my eyes. His face is so close, it's beautiful. I wonder if it's the drink making me go gozzy, or the attraction I had to him.

'You've just noticed?' My voice is flat, snarky. I see him raise an eyebrow, my sass hitting him hard in the face.

Hadrian's arms steady me. 'I've just noticed you're drunk, hell, Ness, I had something important to tell you!'

'What?' I say automatically, attempting to focus but swaying like a pendulum, my gaze fixed on Hadrian's nose. Such a sweet, strong nose. Sturdy. The kind a sculptor would like to make a bust of.

'How did you get like this?'

I giggle. 'I hit a coworker. And then I got another Anger point on my card...and so I needed to escape.'

Hadrian's nostrils flare in anger.

'Well, you weren't much good when you were off letting Blonde Girl snog you with her eyes! What was I supposed to do? I thought you'd left me!'

'What?' Hadrian asks, and he pulls me closer, to hear my mumbling. 'I wasn't letting her...and I'm not leaving you. Isn't that why I'm here?'

Gentle. He's looking at me with such goddamn gentle eyes, filled with pity, that I want to start an argument with him. Just so that he looks at me with the venom I deserve.

And maybe it would quell the growing feeling kindling my black heart.

'I don't know why you bothered coming,' I snap scathingly, and I see him flinch, his fingers peeling away. It's like I've burned him.

And I hate myself.

'You're too good for me,' I continue on, unable to leave him burning. 'Look where I am, it's rotting. You don't need that, you can leave and escape and find your little spring princess--'

Tears, tears are burning my damn eyes. Traitors, I scream. My hands slap my cheeks, angry and upset, and Hadrian holds my wrists, stopping me from hurting myself.

'Ness! Ness, stop, I'm trying to help,' he whispers, scooping me up softly. He runs his hand in my knotted hair, untangling it with his fingers. It's the most romantic gesture I've ever had, and in my vulnerable state, I try not to cry harder.

'I'm going to help you get out of here,' I hear him say, his words booming into my ears through his warm chest. 'Together, okay? I know you're not used to anyone being kind to you. Hell, I don't know how many times you've been hurt. But I promise, I'm not going to be giving up on you.'

I sniff, rubbing my wet cheeks into his clothes. I feel him chuckling at the action.

'And I don't need a princess, Ness. That was a long time ago.'

I lift my face up to peer up at him. I can see his nostrils, which makes me grin. Despite being nostrils, they're still really hot. 'But why would you want to help me?' I voice the question that's been on my mind all afternoon, all evening.

I see him pause, as if it's a question he's only just thinking about now I've posed it. But when he opens his mouth to reply, someone slams into me, and I screech.

The ragged man has wobbled to his feet, and he grunts at us. Hadrian just shields me, moving away like a diplomat, but I hiss and shout, 'Asshole! Watch out!'

Hadrian winces. 'Mind your Anger doesn't go up any more...or I won't be able to help.'

He has a point. I bite my lip, and he tugs me back. He sits onto a bar stool and holds me before him so that his face is level with mine.

'There's something important,' Hadrian tells me. I feel my arms tense against him, where I'm clutching his biceps.

Important?

...oh. Yes.

'I'm ready,' I whisper.

Hadrian blinks. '...ready?'

I take it as an affirmation, not a question. Oh dear.

'I've always been ready,' I continue, but my voice has dropped lower as I lean in, climbing up Hadrian's body to lean on him. I feel his hands on my back, see his wide eyes. 'There's something about you that I can't resist...'

His eyes widen, if possible, even further, and then harden.

And then he does something I didn't expect him to initiate.

He kisses me.

I focus on one thing only: his lips. My head is swirling and my normal inhibitory signals were now cheerleading on the sidelines. Do it! Do it! Go!

Like the other times we had kissed, our desire for one another is unmistakeable. We may hide it afterwards, and we may act like it never happened, but here, in this moment, nothing comes between us.

He supports my weight as I fall onto him, and his hands move to cup my face like I'm something actually precious. He tastes my lips, probably tasting the mead-- and I let out a sigh as he moves his tongue in to roam my mouth freely, teasing out each moan.

Then, he leads the kiss further, pressing gently on the bottom of my spine to push me closer. His lips crush mine, as he moves against me, until we're in this kind of wrestle of desperation to kiss one another.

And then he pulls me onto the bar stool, until I'm sitting on his lap, and hands wrap around my waist, pull through my hair, slide along my hips and angle me in for more of his hot, passionate kisses.

When he breaks off, I'm breathing heavily and hurt.

My eyes beg the question: why?

But I shakily realise that we have an audience-- an entire bar hooting and whistling-- and the bar owner looking grumpy, his hand on Hadrian's shoulder.

'Take it somewhere else,' is all he says.

We don't argue. Even in my inebriated state, my cheeks flush and my head distinctly tells me that I should be ashamed. We scurry out of the bar without glancing back, whilst I straighten the black shirt dress I'm wearing, which probably needed trousers.

The cool air hits us, and I sober up a little. Gods, did Hadrian regret that? Was he angry?

He's standing ahead of me, surveying the empty street. It's late, and the only people about are smoking outside the pub or entering. The buildings around are dark, some boarded up, the side streets deserted.

I breathe out. My heart is hammering, my head is still spinning, and Hadrian isn't saying a word.

'Hello?' I say, and my voice is hoarse. Emotion cracks through it. Still, he doesn't turn to look at me. He just walks aimlessly, wandering away from the pub but in no direction in particular. I follow him, wondering if he's going somewhere, but his silence is odd.

'Can't you say something?' I yell, and a few people stood around the pub look in our direction, before scuttling back inside the loud building.

Now we're alone.

And he still hasn't looked at me.

'Damn you, Hadrian!' I cry, my head spinning and my heart hurting. The man twitches at hearing his name, and hesitates.

Turn around! I scream inwardly. Face the facts! Something is going on between us!

'You kissed me too,' is all I manage, my voice cracking.

I'm about to turn and walk away when he steps back.

And then runs at me.

I can't even squeak, he's turned and appeared before me so fast. It's my turn to be wide-eyed, unsuspecting. And he pulls me into his arms and kisses me once more.

It's an instantaneous rush. Relief, excitement, fear-- my entire body sets alight with an combination of coursing emotions, but my swelling heart roars loudest. We melt together, an unspoken exchange of acceptance, that whatever this is, we can't hide from it.

And our kisses get faster, more desperate, until we're stepping backwards into a side alley, and Hadrian is kissing me against the wall of the pub, and I'm trembling against him like I didn't know how to control my own body. We'd given in, and some part of that allowance of our desire let us both freely express it.

His hands were in my hair, mine were wrapped in his jeans, feeling his hips, his tensing muscles. He quivers when I touch him, and it sends such a delicious delight through me that I do it, again and again, until we're pushing each other further. His hands slide along my own body, feeling my waist and squeezing it, pulling me by my backside into his own crotch, and I hook my leg around his body so that he's pressing into me, material the only thing stopping us.

For a minute, our breath hitches simultaneously. We gasp, and blink, and stare at each other. My eyes meet his, and we don't look away. We embrace this thudding desire, and I see Hadrian's lips melt into a smile as he moves in to continue our kiss.

And then, a voice that I'll never forget. We're shamed and caught for the second time that night. A great white horse and its rider, clad in a cape and armour like a royal cavalry. The whinny of the horse makes us jump apart, still heaving for breath.

The rider has a helmet on. A ridiculous, gold-plated helmet. Gold to match his boots, his gauntlets, his trimmings on his spotless white uniform, and gold to match his horse's saddle. Gold glints at me down the alley, making me blink in its false shine.

'Well met, brother. I'm sorry to have interrupted you. Shall I come back tomorrow to pick you up?'

A QUICK UPDATE!! A sexy one!

What did you think of the action in this chapter? Thought I'd have to bring some back soon, to remind you that this IS a romance book.

Pleaseeee vote and share and comment!!!! :)

Larissa

Xxxx