9 comments/ 8565 views/ 13 favorites Come Closer By: xxmarkedwithhishighdispleasure Note From the Author: This is part one of a substantially longer piece. I'm submitting this as a test to see whether or not people are interested. A lot of background happens in this piece of the novella, but I think you all might find it...intriguing, if nothing else. Hugs and Kisses. XXMarked ---------------------------------------------------- Jordan flicked her lighter and lit the candles on the altar, the flame from the Zippo illuminating her brilliant green eyes before the warm glow of red wax took over. Pocketing the lighter, she rubbed her hands together and paced slowly around the altar, looking around her like she was waiting for the inevitable. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her open knee-length black leather trench coat, the heels of her boots making a defined click against the stone. It was cold in the abandoned church. The moon spilled in through the broken stained glass windows. Her breath clouded in front of her in frosty white puffs. No one in their right mind would be out in the middle of nowhere with six inches of snow on the ground and not a soul in sight. Then again, not everyone had the problems that Jordan had. For weeks—months—she had been plagued with dreams... Not nightmares of a proper sort. Not wish fulfillment dreams...at least not the kind of wishes she was conscious of. Instead, there was always a man, if he could be called such, calling to her, begging her to come closer, as if the distance between them was killing him. His face was wracked with pain, his eyes almost burning through her as he reached out for her. It made her skin crawl to even think about it. Then there were the other dreams... The same man, but not in pain, not practically screaming in agony...he was different, and felt very very real as he took her in his arms and... Jordan jumped as snow fell from a tree just outside the abandoned church. Pressing a hand to her lace-clad abdomen, she exhaled hard and shook her head, catching a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She spun around and saw nothing behind her. "Calm the fuck down, already," she whispered to herself as she ran her fingers through her long black hair. His name whispered over and over inside of her head as she stood there. It was there constantly—morning and night, whether she slept or woke. Cardineum. Only a few weeks after the dreams started, she had done research. The man of her dreams wasn't a man at all, but something entirely different. Not angel, not demon, not mortal; he existed beyond such categories. The books she had read to find anything out, even the smallest mention... heavy, ancient volumes with crisp vellum pages. His story was tragic and she had to brace herself against it whenever she found herself thinking of him. Every 500 years he came to Earth, taking on a new form, a new name, a new voice, always searching for the same thing: the other half of his heart. He had been doing it for age upon age upon age, and still he hadn't found what he most desired. That such a creature should be tethered to mortal women seemed almost unfair to Jordan, but how often was fate really concerned about fairness? She twisted a piece of her gently curled hair around her finger as she hugged herself with one arm, feeling her flesh growing colder as the minutes ticked by. At first she had thought she was going insane, that she was going to be committed within days. She did her best to keep it to herself, only asking questions of the right sources at discrete moments. Even as she studied, she felt haunted, watched... Picturing those sad, pleading eyes made tears well up inside her. Now, it was time to bring the dreams to an end. Jordan heard the crunch of snow in the aisle and felt her blood run cold at the same time. Her pulse pounded faster and faster until it hurt to breathe. Staying very still, she looked around like she hadn't heard anything. "Hello, Jordan." His voice was like blackness, rolling over her, swallowing her. So persuasive, almost musical... She forced herself to breathe. Turning around, she felt her heart drop straight from her throat to the bottom of her stomach. He was everything she had seen in her dreams—every last detail of him was perfect. She tried to hide her obvious shock and smiled. "Hello... How do you know my name?" "I know everything about you. Every last detail." He didn't offer any more. "Oh?" Jordan watched as he stopped a step below her on the altar. He was a large man. Power emanated from his body even though he merely stood there. His clothes were fine; the large black wool overcoat that hugged his frame obviously kept out the cold that Jordan was feeling so intensely. His skin was the color of pale coffee. The moonlight caught his black hair, making it shimmer blue as he ran his fingers through it. The silver of his eyes seemed to reflect the moonbeams. His eyes made her feel like she was falling, when in reality she was quite still. "You feel the need to stare, Jordan? I know you're already familiar with me..." He took half a step towards her. Jordan jumped back and took a breath for the first time in minutes. "Am I?" "Don't play coy, Jordan... we both know why I'm here... I've waited ages for you." "Ages? I think that's a bit extreme..." Jordan felt her hips bump against the stone surface of the altar. Her heart sank lower in her body as she realized she was trapped. "You're so afraid. Why do you fear me?" His voice shivered over her skin as he took a few steps towards her, his hands held out in an act of innocence. "Who said I was afraid?" Jordan feigned haughtiness as her nails bit into the stone edge. "You're shaking." Suddenly he was very close to her, almost too close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body even in the cold of the church. She licked her lips nervously and pressed herself more extremely to the altar's unyielding barrier. The almost too-serious cast of his face suddenly broke into pieces and he smiled, laughing under his breath. "What's so funny?" Jordan felt almost insulted by his laughing. "You, you're what's funny. Do you think that altar is going to suddenly bend under your will and let you escape and keep me away? Hell itself couldn't keep me from you now that I know where you are. I couldn't go another lifetime without you, Jordan." He reached up and stroked a glossy curl as he whispered against the shell of her ear. "I fail to see the humor. I don't even know you." Jordan felt a tightness building in her chest that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but it made her ache. "You know me... you just won't admit to how well you know me." He ghosted a kiss against her earlobe as he kept her pinned against the altar, his hands slipping down to caress the lace of her dress against her hips. She didn't want to admit how tantalizingly familiar his touch felt; how the smell of his skin made her whole body flush with comfort and relief; how the touch of his lips made her heart pound like it would burst. "I don't even know your name... well, not the name you're using right now at least." Jordan forced these words out even though it felt like she couldn't breathe. "You know my true name, which is more important than any assumed alias, but if it makes you feel better, call me Damien." He touched gently under her chin and made her look at him, his hand warm and gentle against her face. His eyes held hers captive—she couldn't have looked away if she wanted to. Her pulse pounded hard in the side of her neck as she failed to notice his lips getting closer to her own. Time itself seemed to stop the minute his mouth crushed against hers and every act of resistance she felt she was capable of dissolved. The kiss was painfully tender, filled with longing she didn't have words for. His hands tightened against her hips, pulling her more insistently to his body. At some point he had opened his coat and now there was nothing keeping her from feeling the hard lines of his body and the heat of his skin through his finely made clothes. The silk of his shirt brushing against the lace of her dress sent shivers through her as she felt heat building low in her body. His presence seemed to swallow her, engulf her, drag her towards some dark edge and threatened to push her over. She found her hands wandering over his chest as he lifted her without a thought and sat her on the edge of the altar; one of her legs came to wrap around his waist. She felt something like longing pulsing through her body as she broke the kiss and looked up at him. "You're going to torment me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse as he tightened his grip on her even more, almost as if he was afraid she'd disappear in front of him. "Can't have everything you want all at once, it ruins it." She watched the way the light of the candles behind her flickered over his face, casting shadows and illuminating his brilliant eyes. "You are all I want..." His voice dropped to a growl as he kissed her again, almost violently, his body crushing wantonly to hers. Jordan felt her whole body respond the minute he took her in his arms like he had done a million times in her dreams, the press of his hips a dangerous temptation as she felt her arousal growing stronger. Bracing herself against the altar, she kissed him more greedily, with less hesitation, giving in to her need. Her hand knocked against the base of a candle. The thud of metal hitting stone was the only sound she heard before a searing pain shot through her arm. Sitting up suddenly, Jordan opened her eyes wide and looked around. She was back in her room; the pale sunlight of a snowy morning filtered in through her heavy purple curtains. Gasping for breath, she ran her fingers through her hair and swallowed hard, noticing a bright red burn on her left arm. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Jordan, earth paging Jordan." Jordan snapped awake and looked over at Alyssa who sat in front of her with a pretzel stick between her lips. "What?" "Have you listened to a thing I've said?" Her friend sounded exasperated. "No... I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night." "Just like the night before, and the night before that. What's up with you?" "I don't know... did I tell you I was going anywhere last night, Lyssa?" Jordan absently tapped her pen against her notebook and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "No, it was a Thursday; you had no reason to be out... unless you're turning into a member of the tart parade." Lyssa went quiet as a bunch of sorority girls walked past. "And if you are we need to have an intervention." Jordan gave Alyssa the finger and reached across the table to grab a textbook she needed. "Holy fuck, what did you do?" Alyssa ripped Jordan's sleeve up her arm and exposed the bright red burn that had blistered since early morning when she had woken up. "I don't know, I woke up with it... Had a dream I was burnt by a candle, maybe that's why?" Jordan motioned distractedly towards her arm and rubbed her hand over her face. "I told you to stop sleeping with your hair straightener in your bed... can only lead to trouble." Alyssa smiled and laughed, pushing a piece of her choppy blonde bangs out of her face. "Right, I forgot... I really couldn't help it; the poor thing looked so alone since my hair dryer died." Jordan reached across the table and scribbled on Alyssa's notes. "You bitch! Anyway, what I was saying before you decided to nap with your eyes open, Xavier won a happy hour at The Underground tonight... I know you don't much care for him, but it's free drinks?" "Is this your attempt to make me leave my room in the middle of winter so I can have beer spilled on me and have really ugly men in their forties come up and talk to me and act like we have anything in common?" "Well... I hadn't really thought of it that way, but you need to go out. Who knows, maybe that dream guy you keep talking about will show up." "What dream guy?" Jordan felt her heart stop in her chest as she sat up suddenly. "The one you've drawn half a million times during class. I'm not dense, Jord..." "I know you aren't, Lyssa... and let's hope he isn't there, I'm not exactly in any condition to be swept off my feet." Jordan managed to smile at Alyssa even though she felt a trickle of dread run along her spine. "So why do you go to these things that Xavier has, anyway? You aren't trying to get with him are you?" Jordan called out of the bathroom, the door cracked to allow communication. "I dunno, he's not half bad... better than most of the guys in the theatre department. At least he isn't gay like most of the guys here." Alyssa smoothed her hands over her pixie-cut hair and adjusted a few bobbypins so they were positioned correctly. "Are you certain about the gay part? They can be awfully good at hiding it." Jordan laughed as she heard Alyssa scoff in the other room. Glancing at herself in the mirror, Jordan jumped as she swore she saw Damien for half a second, his strong body resting against the wall. She turned around quickly and saw the wall was blank tile. "Get a grip..." She muttered as she turned back towards the mirror and applied her mascara. She wiped under her eyes with her fingers and capped the tube before turning the water on in the sink to wash the makeup off her hands. Glancing down at the burn on her arm in consequence, Jordan gasped aloud and bumped her head against the shelf above the sink. "Jord? You ok?" Alyssa walked near the door but didn't look in. One of their codes. "Y-yeah, I'm ok... just pinched my eyelid with an eyelash curler." "Ooooh, that's a bitch. Better than poking yourself in the eye with a mascara wand though." Alyssa wandered away again to contemplate herself in her full-length mirror. The burn, which was all blisters and ugliness half an hour prior, had started to change. Rather than a splotchy mass of red, the painfully scorched flesh had started to curve into something that looked like words on her arm, but not words in any language she knew. Jordan cursed to herself and bit on her bottom lip. "Damien, this isn't funny... if you're even real." She began to carefully build a light foundation of make up over the burn to minimize its appearance. She could practically hear his laugh ringing in her ears and feel it rolling over her. Throwing her makeup back into her bag, she walked out of the bathroom and threw her hands in the air. "What's wrong?" Alyssa turned and glanced at Jordan with an approving nod. "Oh, you know, just suffering audio and visual hallucinations again... really need to lay off the shrooms, but you know how it is." Jordan sat down on the end of Alyssa's bed and pulled on her thigh-high black leather boots. "Ah! The bitch boots make a return... you really must be in a crummy mood, or you really are turning into a tart." Alyssa laughed and turned to face Jordan. "So what do you think? Do I need a push up bra?" Alyssa pushed her breasts together and then let them go. "If you wear a pushup bra, your tits will smother you." Jordan laced up the side of her left boot as she watched Alyssa spin in front of the mirror. "Bitch... not all of us can be blessed with the perfect handful-sized breasts that you got. Some of us have more." Alyssa pretended to pout, but her lips soon turned up in a laughing smile. "Well, as a matter of course, I love your tits. Feel better?" Jordan smiled up at Alyssa and pulled at the hem of the gray jersey-knit dress that sloped off the right shoulder that she was wearing while she fidgeted in front of her. "Yes." Alyssa smiled as she adjusted the cowl-neck of the dress so it exposed the valley of her cleavage to anyone who looked. She hooked a silver chain around her neck and moved away from the mirror. "Alright, let's see how Miss Bitch looks...meant in an affectionate way, of course." Jordan stuck her tongue out at Alyssa and stood up as she finished lacing her right boot and stepped in front of the mirror. She looked a dark contrast to her bright, flirty friend. Her black hair was curled into long ringlets and pinned at the top of her head, a few stray curls falling down to brush against her neck and shoulders. The minimal, but dramatic, makeup she wore made her green eyes almost painful to look at because the color was so intense. Her pale skin stood out against the black gossamer fabric of her halter top. The sweetheart-neckline of the halter top showed off the mouth-watering roundness of her breasts. Jordan paused in looking at herself in the mirror and looked away. That thought wasn't hers. "Damien..." She thought to herself and heard that same rolling laugh from earlier ringing in her ears. Turning her attention back to the mirror, Jordan pulled at the bottom of her halter top so it laid flat against the skin-tight black skirt that left enough to the imagination to be considered tasteful. Her legs were clad in herringbone-knit tights that let the bright whiteness of her skin stand out even more. The black leather of her bitch boots, as Lyssa called them, shone in the failing light of the room. "It's a damn shame the two of us aren't lesbians... I'd do you in a heartbeat and forget about Xavier..." "You never know, he might be so small in that department you might consider it." Jordan smirked as she brushed past Alyssa and brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth. "Well, if I do, you'll be the first person I call and beg to shag." Alyssa laughed and applied lipgloss to her full lips. "Come on, my non-lesbian lesbian lover." Jordan slipped her metal bangles on her arms, fighting not to wince when she pushed them onto her left arm. She picked up her black leather knee-length coat and shrugged it on. Jordan dropped her coat onto a chair behind the couch that Xavier had claimed for his own. She watched his head bob to the music as the waitress returned with another tray full of drinks. Shaking her head, she wandered a small distance off and leaned against the wall, ordering a beer when the waitress passed. The lighting on the floor below changed as another song came on and the mass of bodies began to writhe in an entirely new way. She never knew why she allowed Alyssa to talk to her into these things, but at least she would have inspiration for any horror pieces she needed to draw for the rest of her life after the past four years. Taking her beer from the waitress with a smile, Jordan pushed herself off the wall and began to wander around the little balcony area, glancing over every now and then towards Alyssa and Xavier. Alyssa was animated. Xavier was on his way to being drunk and the happy hour had only started ten minutes earlier. Frowning to herself, Jordan took a swallow of her beer and began to walk towards Alyssa when she saw a man she didn't recognize as one of Xavier's friends walking up the stairs towards where Alyssa was standing, his large frame and black hair bringing to mind images of Damien that Jordan immediately quashed. Jordan almost dropped her beer in her staring as she took a few more steps forward. Watching the person pass by Alyssa without comment and without looking back, Jordan relaxed a little and exhaled hard. She leaned against the railing of the balcony and looked down at the people dancing below her. A breeze brushed against her cheek as someone walked up next to her and she inhaled the smell of wild rain. Holding her beer out to the side, she heard Alyssa sigh in her pouting manner and take a swig of the beer. "Let me guess, he said he'll be fucked if he feels like dancing?" She glanced over at her friend and smiled a sympathetic smile. "As usual... he's too busy getting wasted." Alyssa handed Jordan her beer and leaned against the railing with her hip. "You know how he is... Too cheap to buy his own drinks, but when they're on the house he's going to drink as much as he can in the shortest amount of time possible." Come Closer "I know... but I was hoping he'd pay attention to me tonight." "You could always make him jealous..." "Do you think that would work?" "Men are like dogs—when they think someone else is pissing on their tree they get in a huff, if you'll pardon the analogy." "You're lucky you're my favorite non-lesbian lesbian lover." Alyssa played with one of Jordan's curls. "You know you wouldn't know what to do without me. Hey, look, he's looking over here." Jordan motioned with a slight nod of her head towards Xavier and whispered to Alyssa, "Kiss me." "What? I'm not a rug muncher." Alyssa sounded shocked. "You want him to be jealous?" "Grrr, fine." Alyssa sighed dramatically and leaned in, pressing her lips to Jordan's. Smiling against the kiss, Jordan pulled Alyssa a little closer to make it convincing. Her hand slipped up the more petite girl's thigh and pushed the hem of her dress up. Alyssa's arms came to wrap around her neck as the kiss deepened, her lips pressed more frantically to Jordan's. Jordan could practically hear Xavier's heart stopping despite his alcohol-induced stupidity. She drew the kiss out for a long moment and felt Alyssa flushing hotly against her as she broke the kiss and nipped at her friend's bottom lip. "Could've been worse, you could've been kissing Tom." Jordan whispered very softly under the loud thud of the music and cast a glance over at one of Xavier's drunken friends who was somewhere between drooling and puking on himself. Jordan took a step away from Alyssa and smiled before going back to watching the crowd dance below her. Bodies writhed and undulated, giving the impression of a giant creature made up of a million parts in the throes of death. Seeing a couple particularly involved in the song that Jordan didn't know the name of, she laughed aloud, but suddenly stopped, seeing the familiar glint of silver eyes in the crowd. She felt her heart stop in her chest as she looked around desperately for those eyes in the crowd and found them gone. "Jord...Jordan...HEY!" Alyssa forcefully pulled Jordan away from the railing. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to faint." Alyssa had to yell this to Jordan as a particularly loud song came on. "I'm fine. Just got too warm, I guess." Jordan tried to laugh it off. Suddenly Alyssa's eyes got wide and a nervous smile crossed her face. Not turning around, Jordan could feel the slow painful beat of her heart in her chest long before she heard the achingly familiar voice, "Excuse me..." Jordan stepped to the side and looked casually towards the source of the voice that had the ability to melt her senses to vapor and make her whole body tremble. It was growing harder to breathe. He was painfully beautiful, particularly in the lighting of the club that cast his strong features into shadow and made his eyes all that more luminous. He was dressed differently than he had been last night. He wore a simple black shirt that was ¾ buttoned, the top two buttons left undone to show the exquisite musculature of his chest. Jordan felt herself staring at the gap in the smooth black fabric, but she couldn't help it. Just under the collar of the shirt a mark, darker than the rest of his smooth skin, peeked out. Other than the deceptively casual shirt, he wore well-fitted jeans that accentuated the heavily muscled build of his lower body. Jordan found herself biting at her bottom lip, her desire rushing through her body and making the room impossibly hot. "Can we help you?" Alyssa piped up, slightly surprised by Jordan's silence. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I noticed you begging that gentleman on the couch to dance and couldn't help but come over... I've been watching you since you walked in and would love nothing more than to dance with you." Damien didn't even cast a glance in Jordan's direction, his eyes focused solely on Alyssa. "Me? You want to dance with me?" Alyssa looked at Jordan, an expression of shock on her face. "Yes, with you." He laughed in that way that made Jordan angry and exhilarated her all at once, his smile sending shivers of electricity through her veins. "Sure! C'mon!" Alyssa didn't need to be asked twice. Jordan watched as they walked away from her and down the stairs towards the dance floor. Not once did Damien look at her or acknowledge that she occupied the same space as Alyssa. Her cheeks flushed hotly as she walked forward and gripped the railing until her hands ached and her palms were bleached of blood. Xavier walked up beside her, suddenly painfully sober as he motioned with his hand towards Alyssa and Damien cutting through the crowd of bodies to find a place to dance. "Who the fuck is that guy?" Jordan shook her head and shrugged her shoulders in response. If Damien wasn't going to acknowledge her, she wouldn't claim any association with him. Exhaling slowly through her teeth, she stood up straight as "Kissy Kissy" by The Kills came over the speakers. Her eyes were glued to the couple—her blonde friend like day and her tormentor like night—and she watched as the strong slam of the bass drum made their bodies come together in ways that made Jordan sick. Xavier's territorial nature came out in broad strokes of color across his otherwise flushed face. He was pissed and wanted Alyssa to be back up on the balcony with him. Jordan moved away from the balcony railing and found a place to sit in the shadows. Seeing Damien touching Alyssa put her out of humor. Crossing her legs, she listened to the song and relaxed in her seat, not even noticing when Alyssa returned, flushed and aroused, to find Xavier angrier than hell. She sighed dramatically and got up to go get some air. Grabbing a cigarette from Xavier's coat pocket, she wandered down the stairs of the club, weaving her way through the crowd to the exit door. Someone on their way in offered her a light. Leaning against the wall outside of the club, Jordan closed her eyes as she inhaled only once every few minutes. It was more of the quiet that she needed than the smoke. Crushing the cigarette under the heel of her boot, she stepped back inside—back into the heat and arousal that flooded the club until it was almost something hanging in the air. She moved over towards the bar, sandwiching herself between men she didn't know to try and blend in. She ordered a lemon drop and waited for her drink, not really paying attention to her surroundings. Paying for the shot when it arrived, she dumped the container of sugar on the lemon and picked up the wedge in one hand. She used the other hand to slam the shot back, quickly popping the lemon in her mouth and sucking on it. "You know, you're much more difficult than most women to please or torment." Jordan turned around slowly as she pulled the lemon rind from her mouth and licked a few crystals of sugar from her lips. Damien stood there with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. "Am I?" Jordan put the lemon rind in the shot glass and leaned back against the bar. "Certainly. Most women would have thrown themselves from the balcony if I had completely ignored them like that... it's a part of who I am, to cause such strong reactions. Not you, though... you're almost an ice queen." "Did you enjoy your dance with Alyssa?" Jordan ignored his comments and feigned disinterest as she crossed her arms in front of her. "To some extent. She's very pretty and a lot of fun...but she isn't who I wanted." "Well, you just said you could get any woman you wanted, so I'm sure you won't be disappointed." "Quit playing stupid, Jordan. You know very well that you're the one I wanted." "So you show it by dancing with my best friend?" "I wanted you to admit to how attached you are to me... I see it will take something more subtle to extract such a confession from you." "I'll openly admit it if you ever give me reason to. As it stands? I don't see a very convincing reason to do any such thing." Damien suddenly reached out and grabbed Jordan's arm, pulling her towards him and simultaneously pressing her back against a square column. All of the air rushed out of the room as he stepped very close to her, his face a scant few inches from her own. Jordan licked her lips and looked up into his face that was contorted into something resembling agony. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? The very fact that you breathe is enough to make my whole body crave you. Seeing you move and watching others—other men—watching you is enough to make me insane with jealousy. You have to be mine... I can't stand to think of the consequences if you reject me." Jordan felt all of the words rush from her lips as she stood there, mesmerized by his gaze and held suggestively pinned to the wall by his body. "So, this needing to be with me is why the burn on my arm isn't a burn anymore, but a mark? I'm not your property." Jordan had to force the ice into her words as she watched the way his mouth turned into a wince. "That wasn't my doing." "The hell it wasn't." "I had nothing to do with it. It would have happened with or without my presence in the chapel last night." "I don't believe you. I'm no slave to fate." "Even immortals are slaves to fate... that's why I can't go on without you. You're it. You're my last hope. Do you know how it feels to suddenly feel whole for the first time in eons upon eons and then to have that sensation torn from you with such violence it feels as if your heart was torn from your body? That's a fraction of what I feel when you reject me." She couldn't think of anything to say. His face was so pain-filled she felt as if she was killing him. Resting her head against the column, she broke his gaze, needing respite from the overwhelming emotions that flooded his eyes. Looking into the crowd of people laughing and talking on the outside of the dance floor, Jordan closed her eyes for a moment as "Satan's Seventh Bride" by Helicopter Girl began to play. Jordan shivered visibly as the shuddering sound of an electric guitar vibrated through the club. Turning her face back towards Damien, Jordan felt her lips brush against his. The hot silk of his mouth made something deep inside her body melt. It was like magnetism: once her lips touched his, the kiss couldn't be broken except by the most extreme exertion of will. Damien's hands came to encase her wrists, slipping them up the wall and holding them there as his body pressed more insistently to hers, the kiss deepening as the opening words of the song echoed into the club. He all of a sudden pulled away from the wall, but didn't release her. Moving into the space on the dance floor that seemed to open for them, Damien turned Jordan to face away from him, causing her arms to cross her body. He used the position to hold her tenderly to him at first, his hands sliding down her arms gradually, his lips coming to press against the side of her neck as his hands ghosted over the sides of her breasts and slipped down her sides until they rested possessively on her hips. "This thing is on. You're playing guitar, and suddenly I feel romantic..." The singer's voice rolled over the crowd on the dance floor like mist. Shivering at the words mixing with the beat of the guitar, Jordan rocked her body back into Damien's, her arms coming up and slipping around his neck as she felt heat rush through her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she laced her fingers together and used the position to roll her hips into Damien's. She could feel him tensing under the slightest movement of her body. The press of his lips against her neck grew more impassioned, the grip of his hands more desperate as time slowed to a standstill. Opening her eyes, Jordan let out the softest of moans as she felt Damien growl against the side of her neck. His body rocked into hers constantly, his hips pressed greedily against the round of her ass. The music made every movement a million times more tantalizing. The vibrating twang of plucked guitar strings matched the flooding heat that surged through Jordan's body. "Say can I tempt you? Can you be tempted to pick up another string on your guitar? Hey, can I tempt you, or can you be tempted to play me like Satan's seventh bride?" Damien spun Jordan around and pulled her body to his; the heat of her curves pressed to the hard lines of his frame was almost intolerable. It had been ages since he last felt what it was like to be an aroused human male and the restrictions it imposed made him weak. He bent his head and dragged his lips down the line of her throat. He counted each beat of the song like grains of sand trickling through an hourglass, counting down to the moment when he would have to relinquish her. He felt the thudding of her pulse under his lips and felt a new wave of desire take a hold of him. His hands slipped from her hips down to her thighs, sliding back up until they disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Clothing kept him from his real desire of feeling her flesh against his, from gaining the satisfaction of knowing she wasn't going to pull away and leave him. Jordan trembled under his touch. The feel of his hands gripping at her thighs in a way only a lover would made her weak all over. She had to distract herself--he was pulling her in too deep. Suddenly he pulled her hips forward towards his and pressed the evidence of his desire against her. Jordan didn't even catch herself wrapping her leg around his waist until it was too late and he held her there, his hips grinding against hers temptingly. Each shift of his body and the press of warm denim against her was enough to make her blood boil violently. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, needing the possessiveness of his kiss more than she needed air. Her left arm draped limply around his neck as her right hand pressed her nails into the side of his neck, making him hold her body that much harder to him. Jordan could think of nothing else but ache that ran through her when he proved, over and over again, how perfectly her body fit his. The last few notes of the song faded and the spell was broken. Damien forced himself to release Jordan and take a step back, even though doing so was painful enough to bring tears to his eyes. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced at her and saw the way her body was flushed and shaking, her arousal almost too strong for her to control. Jordan took a deep shuddering breath as she blushed and looked around her. The arousal she was experiencing was apparently contagious; throughout the club people were pulling apart from each other, redressing, and apologizing for their behavior. She almost felt the urge to laugh as she looked back to where Damien stood and saw he was gone. A shockwave of vertigo hit Jordan as she felt the separation more keenly for its suddenness. Exhaling with a sigh, she looked around the crowd of people, searching hopelessly for those silver eyes or that brooding brow. In the background the club's theme song if it had one, played. He was gone. Jordan walked up the stairs towards the balcony, moving all the slower for the let down from her high. Come Closer Ch. 02 Note from the Author: I'm glad to see so many people enjoyed the first part of my little story. This is part two and seemingly more...steamy than the first. The novella was envisioned as a three part story that followed Jordan's relationship with Damien, but depending on the response this section and then next section receive, I may have to reconsider. Please post comments about what you think, even if they aren't necessarily good things! Enjoy and happy fantasizing. Love, XXMarked -------------------------------- Jordan pulled the last bobbypin out of her hair and sighed as she scrubbed her fingers against her scalp, loosening some of the tension. "Long fucking night." She murmured to herself as she looked in the mirror and arranged the curls that fell down her back. Her eyes fell to the burn on her left forearm and she actually cringed, not from the pain of the burn but the painful thoughts that it brought to mind. She had only recently managed to get the feel of Damien's hands on her body out of her mind. She brought her fingers up and traced the burn on her arm, the curves and the short strokes that almost looked like brushwork. Shaking her head, she stopped herself and threw her hands in the air. Quickly she threw off her haltertop, her skirt, and remaining clothing until she padded to her bed in her bare feet, wearing only a black lace bra and a pair of matching boyshorts. She needed to sleep it off. It was worse than a hangover. Throwing back the white down comforter, she slipped under the sheets and forced herself to sleep. His lips found the tender spot on the side of her neck. His hands caressed her sides as he whispered to her, "Don't deny me any longer." She couldn't have even if she wanted to. Her whole body burned for him. She pressed her hands against the smooth expanse of his chest and felt his lips press to hers. The kiss gave her that same electric feeling that it always did--that chill that ran right down the core of her body and stuck somewhere near her heart. She felt him slip under the comforter and press his body to hers. Every muscle on his body was perfection incarnate. The press of his hips against hers, the feel of his thighs between hers, the way his muscles rippled with every breath... She felt his lips brush down the side of her neck, over her collarbone and hover over her breast. Each second that passed felt like an eternity until finally he pressed his mouth to her nipple and gave it a hot, wet kiss. Jordan's eyes opened with a gasp as she felt her heart racing. Breathing deeply, she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes and shook her head. "You're going insane again, Jordan." "I wasn't aware that desire was considered insanity. I'll have to make a note of that for the future." Damien's voice whispered across the darkness and crawled over her body like a lover's touch. Sitting up slowly, Jordan almost fell out of bed when she found him sitting in the armchair near her bed. She pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you..." He smiled a calming smile. "Do you make a habit of watching all the women you're tormenting while they're sleeping or am I just special?" Jordan ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. "You know you're special... I enjoy watching you sleep... you're beautiful when you're so relaxed. Although I suppose I find you beautiful always." "You need to stay out of my head and out of my dreams... it's been a hard three or so months with you bouncing in and out of my dreams every night." "Dreams?" "You know exactly what I'm talking about, otherwise how could you make your little offhanded comment?" "You were moaning in your sleep. I must admit, I was sorely tempted to wake you by a similar means to the one you were dreaming of." "Come off it, already... you know you're putting these thoughts in my head." "I have had nothing to do with it, beautiful. Everything you're feeling or dreaming is you." "You're such a liar... and so arrogant about it. That little smile of yours can't absolve you of all your sins." "I leave such a task up to a higher power. I am telling the truth, however... I've done nothing except that little game earlier when you were looking at yourself in the mirror... but who can blame me?" He stood up with a fluid motion and walked over towards her, having a seat on the edge of her bed. "I don't want to talk to you. You left me in a hard place earlier and it has me out of sorts..." "Do you think I wanted to leave you? Not for a minute did that thought enter my head... I wanted nothing more than to feel your body in the ways I've craved for an eternity...but you're unreconciled to me, you resist what's happening, you refuse to accept that you are destined by fate to be mine... Until that hesitance disappears, I must resist every impulse to the contrary." Damien sighed heavily as he picked up her left hand and glanced at the burn that had since faded to a scar, the markings bringing a smile to his lips as he bent his head and pressed a kiss to it. "If sex is what you want, we can manage that...but I'm not about to be bound for age upon age to someone I don't know." "I don't want sex..." Damien sneered as he pressed his cheek to the mark and inhaled the smell of her skin. "Sex, is that all your kind believes that such an act is good for?" "Would it make you happier if I called it making love? I wasn't aware that immortals played semantic games." Jordan shivered a little as she felt his breath brush against the mark on her arm. "No, it wouldn't make me happier. What you call sex is something entirely different to one such as I... it's an experience that can't be paralleled by anything else. It's a joining of souls, a mingling of essence... I can't describe it to someone who doesn't even believe in souls or in love even..." "How do you know what I believe?" "Jordan, we've been over this... I know you as well as I know my own body, my own mind... I know your quirks, I know your little desires, your deepest fantasies... but most importantly I know your heart." "From the way you talk about me, I was led to believe I don't have one." Jordan let out the softest of groans as she felt his lips caress her skin again. "You know I don't mean it, lovely... You just can't understand how each passing minute is torture... Maybe I should show you?" He released her arm and looked up at her with that sad smile that had haunted her dreams. "I don't know..." "Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt you for all the power in the universe..." He murmured as he pulled back the comforter and slid under with her. He was still dressed in his clothes from the club, so at least Jordan didn't have to suffer the hell of feeling his bare flesh against hers. Jordan laid on her side and watched him, the way his eyes searched her face. His right hand came to caress her thigh as his left hand pulled her body closer to his. She didn't resist. "You have no idea how I wish you would accept this, accept me..." He whispered against her chest right over her heart as he brushed the tip of his nose against her skin, not noticing or not paying attention to the shivers it caused and how it made her pulse quicken and her nipples harden. "I can't... I don't know how..." "You do know how... you know it and you know me." He abandoned nuzzling at her skin. Turning his head to the side, he pulled her a little closer to him, resting his cheek against the pounding of her heart. He grew very still and Jordan felt herself almost being lulled to sleep by the warmth of his body and slow, steady caress of his hands. Suddenly, that quiet was disturbed and Jordan felt a jarring pain stab into the center of her body. She gasped for air as the pain increased and was added to by a sudden flood of arousal that made her whole body hyperaware of the smallest touch. Even the rub of Damien's jeans against her skin was a torment she could barely stand. The higher the arousal took her, the more the pain increased until she couldn't reach that delightful peak that she wanted so bad. When the arousal grew intolerable, a sense of sadness swept through her that pushed every other thought away and brought her, literally, to tears. She was aware of Damien's arms encircling her and his voice whispering against her ear. "Shhhh, my love... forgive me, I let it go too long." He kissed the hot tears from her cheeks with a tenderness that made another flood of them rush down her face. "I'm sorry..." She whispered as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck and melted into the strength of his arms around her. "Don't feel sorry for me, just understand." Damien's voice faded as Jordan fell asleep listening to the beating of his heart. She woke with a start as pain radiated through her chest. Damien was gone. The impression of his body in the sheets was still warm. Over the next few days, Jordan saw Damien over and over again, but not anywhere close enough to her that she could talk to him. He was in the snowy fields or just down the hallway, watching her as if he was waiting. Every time she saw him, her body clenched with longing at the idea of his arms around her. After a certain point, she had taken to ignoring him just to save herself the pain of thinking of his absence and the tears that accompanied it. She was getting too emotionally involved for this whole situation being something she didn't want... or at least something she had convinced herself that she didn't want. Jordan pounded on the door with her fist as she tried to shake her broken umbrella into a semblance of closure. The rain came down in bucketfuls over her head as she pounded on the door again. The world had officially gone insane. The day before there had been six inches of snow on the ground; today it was 60 degrees and raining like it was monsoon season. The door to the storage shed cracked open and creaked loudly as it slid back. "Jordan, I'm so sorry, I was talking and didn't hear you knock. Come in, you must be drenched." Jordan looked up at her life studies professor with a look of incredulity. Her tunic-length layered tanktop was soaked straight through and huge beads of water dripped off her now very limp hair. Stepping inside the shelter of the shed, she shoved the door closed and threw her umbrella to the side. "It's not a good sign if you're so involved talking to yourself that you can't hear someone knocking." "Oh! Heavens, I wasn't talking to myself. No, no. We have a decided treat today. Come with me." Jordan's professor smiled broadly in a manner that was particular to him and touched her lightly on the back with his fingertips to guide her towards the open space dictated as the classroom. Dropping her bag on the ground, Jordan pushed her fingers through her soaked hair and tried to wring some water out of it, needing to get at least a little dry. Her shoes squelched wetly as she nearly slipped and fell on the lacquered floor. "Sam, who was that? Oh, hello, Jordan." Jordan stopped dead in her paces and looked over to her left. Damien sat on the model's block, relaxed as ever, his smile not a bit out of place. She glanced over at Sam and then back at Damien. "Is this the surprise?" "Isn't it wonderful? We've been needing a model with muscular definition the past few weeks." Sam tittered on in his overly enthusiastic way as he started setting up easels across the room. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jordan murmured as she wrung out the bottom of her shirt and avoided looking at Damien. "I'm volunteering. Isn't that what good people do? Volunteer?" The sarcasm dripped from his words and practically splattered on the floor along with the rain from Jordan's clothing. "Good people also don't leave without saying goodbye." She dumped her art supplies out of the waterproof bag and onto a table she had claimed as her own. "I had no choice, lover... I was too close to you, it was too tempting a situation... When you sleep, I almost believe that you love me, you know... the way you wrap your arms around me and curl into my body... it's almost as if you trust me." Damien half purred this sentiment, his hand coming up to trace a bead of water that ran down the side of Jordan's neck and dripped into the line of her cleavage. "Stop that, you aren't in a crowded club or my room. This is what I do, Damien, so stop it." Jordan felt her face flush hotly as the touch of his fingertips was enough to send chills down her spine. Damien came to his feet in that almost too-fluid way and brushed his lips against Jordan's ear. "I don't think he'd mind, do you? How many times do you think he's imagined you spread over his desk like some pornstar that'll scream his name and beg him for more?" That same slow, condescending laugh echoed against the shell of Jordan's ear and made her weak. It wasn't until a moment later that she realized what he had said. "That's disgusting." Jordan swallowed her revolt as she glanced over at Sam as he pulled canvasses out of a storage closet. "I speak merely the truth, my love... You are an object of desire for more than just me. While that appeals to my vanity on some level, I must say it makes me insanely jealous... You were meant to be mine." Damien slipped his hands along Jordan's arms until his hands clasped her own. "You've had your fun, now please leave." Jordan whispered frantically, the closeness of his body making her incredibly nervous. "I can't do that, I promised Sam I would model for your class today. What sort of man would I be if I broke my promises?" Damien smiled that cool smile against her neck that made her tremble. "You aren't a man, so you aren't held to that standard." Jordan whimpered meekly, her body tingling so delectably that she almost didn't want it to stop. Damien smirked and bit teasingly at her earlobe before he pulled away from her and resumed his seat on the model's block. "So, Sam, I think Jordan ought to be responsible for posing me, what do you say? She has such creative vision I'm sure it would be inspiration to those of lesser ambition." "Oh, yes, yes, of course! Jordan often poses our models." Sam cried from the back of the storage shed. "Good." Damien said aloud as he smiled at Jordan. "You're an evil son of a bitch. If I hadn't researched you to death I would have believed you to be the devil himself." "Whose devil are we speaking of? Because if we're talking Milton's Satan then I would very much agree... save for the being turned into a giant serpent part. You know, suave, intelligent, seductive." "Don't flatter yourself, Damien." Jordan muttered as she shivered and pulled out the backlights, setting them up around the model's block. "You need to take better care of yourself, you're freezing." Damien was on his feet again, pacing agitatedly. "I wasn't expecting the wind to break my umbrella and to get soaked." Jordan tripped over a power cord and found herself caught up by Damien before she could even fall. "Please, take care of yourself." He looked down at her as his hands slid up into her damp hair, caressing her temples with his thumbs. The room seemed to narrow as she felt herself being sucked in again, her body pressing against his even though she was afraid she would get him just as soaked as she was. His mouth was a sore temptation hovering just out of reach. She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between his mouth and the molten silver of his eyes. He bent in, the warmth of her skin calling to him as he brushed his lips against hers, sending the pulse of electricity through her body and feeling it intensely himself. Jordan gasped and felt her body flush with heat. That familiar creak of the door being slid open forced her to pull away from Damien with an actual wince. "You're going to make it so I can't be away from you... I don't want that." She stepped away from him and turned on the lights. "You aren't meant to be away from me, Jordan..." His voice sent that pang through her body that killed her. Students slowly filled the storage shed, taking their places by easels and setting up their supplies. Jordan fidgeted at the front of the room, adjusting the drape on the model's block. Some of the female students stared at Damien with awe and lust. Several of them flushed hotly as if aroused. Jordan felt her whole body tighten harshly in response to seeing their reactions. It was worse than it had been the other night--that was just Alyssa... She took a deep breath and shot arrows at the girls with her eyes as she tried to hide her jealousy. "Something wrong, my love?" Damien asked as he bent his head and whispered against her ear as she pretended to tighten the base of a backlight. "No... why would you ask?" Jordan felt her jaw clench when she heard heated whispering behind her. "You can't lie to me, Jordan. I know you're jealous... They can't help themselves, it's what my presence does." "Well, can't you control that? It's driving me insane." "It will end eventually, one way or another." He pressed his hand to her side. Her heart stopped for a moment. "Settle down, settle down, mes amies. Today we have the honor of having a guest model with us. This is Damien and he'll be posing for us today." Sam beamed a smile at his class. Jordan watched as Alyssa snuck in late and took up her place next to her easel. Her mouth dropped a little in surprise as she mouthed at her, "What's he doing here?" Jordan shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck. "Since the rest of you lack the experience necessary to take advantage of this opportunity, I've asked Jordan to show you how to best pose a model of this caliber. Jordan, he's all yours." Jordan felt her face flush at Sam's wording and glanced at Damien whose smile was infallible. Clearing her throat, she murmured to Damien, "Would you take off your shirt, please?" Damien bowed his head with a smile and reached up, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. Each undone button revealed a little more of his defined chest not only to Jordan's eyes, but the eyes of the rest of the women in in the classroom. His warm-hued skin drew in their attention and made them stare at him all the more. Jordan had to bite back her jealousy as she waited and held out her hand to take his shirt from him. Instead of handing Jordan his shirt, however, he stepped forward and put the shirt around her, smiling as he whispered, "There, now you won't be cold." Jordan could feel the daggers of glares digging into her back. Slipping her arms through the arm holes, she wrapped the shirt around herself as she motioned to the model's block. "Sit down, please." Damien sat down and smiled in his satisfied way as Jordan walked around him and looked at his body closely. "Take off your shoes." He kicked off his socks and shoes and moved them out of sight next to Sam's table. Stopping behind him, Jordan glanced at the musculature of his back and a cord of lust tightened in her body. She swore she could hear him laughing even though his face was a perfect mask of calm. Her eyes fell to the dark line that she noticed the night before peeking out from under his shirt collar and she traced its snaking path down the left side of his back. The dark line became a branch with winding off shoots, each ending with a delicately drawn symbol that looked similar in style to the scar on her forearm. The branch came to an end and, at the end of the last offshoot, she saw the symbol that exactly matched her burn. The more she stared, she could make out a very faint, almost imperceptible symbol next to it, linked by a curling line. Shakily, she pressed her palms against his back and bent him forward, her hands gliding along the corded muscle below his skin. She could feel the smallest tremor of his body as he breathed. Come Closer Ch. 02 She realized only a moment later that she was staring at the mark on his skin and forced her eyes away, moving around in front of Damien and looking down at him with the gaze of an artist... or so she told herself. Reaching out a trembling hand, she ran her fingers through his hair and brought a piece to hang down over his forehead, disheveling on purpose the flawlessness of his appearance. This action brought a smile to his lips and actually made him laugh. Jordan felt her cheeks color as she reached behind him to adjust a light, her hips pressing against his chest in a way that could be easily misconstrued. A moment later she found herself straddling his jean-clad thigh, kneeling on the model's block and gripping his shoulders for balance. She couldn't remember whether her knee had given out or whether he had tripped her into that position. The light red of Jordan's cheeks from earlier turned crimson as she heard catcalls and hisses of jealousy from the class behind her. "Hey, Professor, can we draw this? It's the most action Jordan's gotten in years," Alex snickered as he tapped his pencil against his drawing pad. Jordan felt Damien's body tense against her and she never turned around as she resumed fixing the light and called out, "Well, unfortunately, Alex, some of us have standards too high to allow for a blow up doll or our third cousins when we're hard up..." She glanced down at Damien and saw his surprise as she smiled and brushed her thumb against the thudding pulse in his neck. Alex was shamed into silence. Standing up, she brushed off her hands and stepped back far enough to appraise the situation. Damien moved back into the position she had nudged him into and looked at her with an unsmiling, but gentle gaze. Without a word she turned and walked to her easel, leaving the class's view of the model uninhibited. Leaning back against the wall behind her easel, she took a deep breath and stared at Damien for a long time. "Do you know him?" Alyssa asked as she pretended to study Damien for her drawing, but was in actuality enthralled with his body. "You could say that we're friends." Jordan glanced over at Alyssa and sighed. "You're banging him? Why didn't you say so last night?" Alyssa almost dropped her pencil in surprise. "No! Oh, god no...he's not my type." Jordan said this loud enough so Damien could hear, just to elicit a reaction. Damien's face grew at once sad and stormy, his silver eyes turning to the color the rain-heavy clouds outside. Jordan instantly regretted what she said, but couldn't tell Alyssa that. "Oh, yeah, you know... he's only just perfect." Alyssa waved to Damien, but he didn't so much as flinch in response. "You think? I mean, he's handsome..." Jordan's thought trailed off as she took a deep breath and turned towards her sketch pad. "You ok?" Alyssa bit on the end of her pencil as she watched Jordan start to draw. "I...yeah, I'm fine." Jordan swallowed the urge to say "I'm sorry" as she looked past her easel and found Damien avoiding her pleading look. She forced herself to swallow again and started to focus on her drawing, not needing to look at Damien to draw him--everything she needed was there in her mind. Within a matter of minutes the strong lines of Damien's body, in a position completely different from the one she had posed him in, were sketched on the page. His back faced the viewer as he looked over his left shoulder, his face wracked with pain and his eyes darker than night. His right hand came up from under his left arm and clawed at the muscle of his back. The mark that trailed down from his left shoulder was distorted by the pull of his hand and the symbols at the end of the last offshoot, for the other symbol that Jordan only thought she might have seen was there too, were bleeding down his back and disappearing from his skin. Only when she put her pencils down did Jordan realize she was crying. "Jord? Hey, Jord? What's wrong?" Alyssa put her pencil behind her ear as she moved over and wrapped her arms around her shaking, sobbing friend. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean what I said..." Jordan whispered against Alyssa's shoulder as she closed her eyes and wiped the tears from her face. "Whoa..." Alyssa's grip on Jordan slackened as she turned Jordan's drawing into the light and stared at it. "How is it that you draw this in half the time it takes me to draw an outline to structure his face around?" "I... I dunno..." Jordan brought the drawing back to its place in the shadows and looked around nervously to make sure Sam didn't hear Alyssa. "It's really good... I don't know how or why you posed him that way, but..." Alyssa stared at Jordan for a long time and shook her head. "You sure he's not your type?" Jordan opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She blushed a little and tore the drawing off her sketch pad carefully. Moving the pad off her easel, she stared at the very blank canvas and frowned. Canvas wouldn't work... it wasn't what she wanted. Picking up the canvas, she walked through the forest of easels carefully and moved to the back of the classroom. She returned to her easel moments later with a large piece of vellum bristol board and took out her charcoals. Time flooded past her. The three hour class seemed like barely a breath as she wiped her fingers on a rag and stared at and elaborate background of stone and stained glass. In the center of the background was a large man-shaped white spot and Jordan felt a slight sob escape her throat at the absence there. "Ok, my rebellious children. Your assignment for next week is to return with something to show me... god only knows what it will be, but something is the keyword... You may go." Sam groaned as he stood at the front of the class, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Jordan looked up, almost too shocked for words as she had been staring at her drawing intensely. All of the students hastily packed their drawings and supplies in waterproof covers and left the shed in some level of embarrassment, leaving Jordan alone with Damien and Sam. It was then that she realized she was still wearing Damien's shirt. Stepping meekly out from behind her easel, she saw Damien getting to his feet, the muscles along his ribs rippling as he took a deep breath. "Damien, I can't thank you enough for this. Even though it caused some of my students considerable difficulty, namely Samantha, I think it was a valuable experience for them all. Wouldn't you agree, Jordan?" Jordan couldn't find her voice at first and merely nodded, her face coloring all over again. "Yes, Jordan, what did you do with your time?" Damien's voice carried with it an icy edge that cooled Jordan's blood and stabbed daggers into her flesh. "I must admit I'm eager to see what you accomplished... I'm assuming you got past the sketching stage unlike most?" Sam smiled his smile and moved towards Jordan's easel. A bolt of panic ran down the center of Jordan's body. "I-I-I did... I'm not very pleased with it though, it's not finished..." She ran through every excuse she could think of as she watched Damien's lips curl into a cold smirk, devoid of his usual levity. Sam flipped the easel around unceremoniously, and stared openly at the bristol board and the sketch hanging alongside it. "My god... all of this in three hours?" "Like I said, it's rubbish, I should probably start over." "You do that and I'll purposely fail you... ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, but don't you dare." Sam shook his finger at Jordan before he turned to look at the abandoned easels and sighed dramatically. "They don't pay me enough for this." He moved towards them like a shepherd hopelessly trying to herd sheep without a dog. Jordan turned to face Damien very slowly and swallowed the lump in her throat with some difficulty. "Where did that image come from?" "It's the future, as I see it, Jordan... Now you know what's to become of me, of you... The future you've chosen for us. Pain, loneliness, darkness... I'm not your type? You'll never find a man who is then because whether you believe it or accept it your soul is mated with mine." Damien practically snarled as he gripped Jordan's shoulders until her bones ached under his hands. "I didn't mean what I said... I was just--" "Save it, Jordan... You've proven time and again that you don't want anything to do with me... Then I'll grant your wish. From this moment on you'll never see me again." Damien winced as he spoke and Jordan felt something like panic sweep through her body. "What do you mean?" "Once I leave you today, I won't return." Damien sighed as if tired and rubbed the back of his neck. "You--" "No, it's what you've wanted since that night in the chapel... to have your life the way it was before. You'll finally get your wish, even if it kills me." Jordan felt like her chest was being squeezed in a vice. Breathing was impossible and she felt herself hyperventilating. The panic grew, spread, consumed her until she was on the floor, being held up by Damien's arms. "Y-you can't go..." She managed to wheeze out. "It's what you want. I can do nothing but make sure you're happy." Damien brushed the backs of his fingers against the side of her face and slowly helped her to her feet. "But what will happen to you?" He shrugged as he continued to touch her face, as if memorizing it for the last time. "The same that happens to all my kind when they are rejected by their best-fit... They slowly cease to have physical form, then their spiritual form disappears, and finally all that is left is some vague essence that feels pain and nothing more." That familiar sad smile came to his face as his hand came to cup her cheek. "Don't worry about me... it's more important to any immortal that his best-fit is happy with her life." Damien leaned in and pressed the most tender of kisses to Jordan's lips, a kiss that lacked the normal spark of arousal that his lips usually caused, but one that made her heart ache and made her want to disappear into him. She wanted to scream in pain when he broke the kiss and pulled away from her that intense comfort, that satisfying feeling of wholeness. Breathing heavily, she watched hopelessly as he picked up his coat and slipped it on before walking out of the shed, leaving her standing there wrapped in his shirt.