<span style="color: #FF0000"> Athan sighed, “Not exactly, but we still need to talk…” he pressed the issue and moved to grab her arm.</span><br/><br/>His sigh was met with a brow raise, spotting the hand that reached for her and evading it with little issue while simultaneously pushing it away with the other hand. “I’ve nothing to say.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Another sigh and he went for her arm again, this time he did manage to grab it and began to walk off with her. "We need to talk."</span><br/><br/>Her eyes narrowing as he caught hold of her arm and started to walk off with her, she yanked it back, staring hard before walking in the other direction. “No, what we<span style="font-style: italic">need</span>is for you to be honest.<span style="font-style: italic">Then</span>we can talk.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> The other dancers now stared intently at the pair, which only added to the stress that he felt. "Tempest," he practically growled her name as he stalked after her. Once again he caught her arm, but when she pulled back he shifted his grip and instead spun her toward him.</span><br/><br/>Those stares fueled her fire. He lied to her in private, skirted around the issue privately; Maybe his façade would crack publicly with all the fascinated stares, with the tension that only continued to grow by the second. His hand felt on her arm, she went to pull back and found herself spinning toward him. Barely able to avoid it, she spun under his arm and yanked her arm away, stepping back as her eyes remained firmly on his firm, staring hard at him before trying to walk away for a second time. “I’m not in the mood, Athan,” she snapped, gaze shifting to some of the dancers and practically daring them to question what was going on.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Now, he was starting to falter, just a bit with his confidence. Ever he was the cool calm and collected, Athanase. Never before in all his life had anyone, not even Colt managed to ruffle his feathers are much as this woman. However, he was not about to be outdone in this little…dance. Once again, he advanced on her, hand swift to grab her arm again and this time he managed to pull her into him. It was only for a moment while they shared eye contact, then she pulled away again. Instead of making another attempt at her arm he instead wrapped his arms about her form and held her close while he whispered in her ear.<br/> <br/>“You tell me to talk to you and here I am trying to talk and you refuse to give me the time,” then it was his turn to turn away from her, his back now to her as a show of his own frustration at her behavior.</span><br/><br/>It was a game of cat and mouse, a game of dance where frustrations were being worked out and a talk was happening through intricate moves. Despite there being no real communication as he refused to open up, there was plenty being said with each step. Each time she tried to walk away, he grabbed her back and then she’d get away. This time, there was eye contact, a shared look before she got away again, only to be pulled back in, his lips at her ear. What he said certainly didn’t help his cause.<br/><br/>Now that it was<span style="font-style: italic">his</span>turn to walk away, she wasn’t about to be outdone. While she may have been mad at him just then, that didn’t stop how her hands had begun to wander over his form, how she’d rested her head against his back and enjoyed the contact before he’d pushed her off and started to walk away. Her eyes narrowed once again before she made her move. Taking advantage of a nearby chair, she used it to vault herself at him, only to be met with him turning around at the last second, catching her and spinning around with her, one leg over his shoulder and the other beneath his arm.<br/><br/>When he finally dropped her, her lips had parted to speak but he pushed her off instead, falling into the very chair that she’d used only a moment before, his form advancing on hers rapidly. One leg rose up, stopping him with a point of her toe as she leaned forward. “You said yourself you won’t be honest with me. What’s there to say when you refuse to be honest with me when I’ve been honest with you?”<br/><br/>Pushing him off, she stood watching him walk away and jumping on him again, anger pulsing through her veins. “How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t trust me?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> How this had turned into a <span style="font-style: italic">proper</span> dance he was not sure, but somehow it had. The other dancers stared on at what they thought to just be a dance between the two of them. What made this entire thing so vexing was the fact that she was right, at least to some degree. She had been honest to him and he had been honest for the most part, but there really was no way to just work into a conversation that he was a vampire. That he left the bed at night to hunt, to feed and kill, because he was a blood thirsty monster that had to kill others to survive.<br/> <br/>A growl left his lips as he spun with her on his back before he finally threw her from him and advanced on her form after a single graceful turn. “I have been as honest as I can be, but you refuse to give me this bit of privacy that I require for the moment. We are dating, but you are not my keeper,” he snapped. His words finally struck a nerve as she raised her hand as if to strike him but he caught each hand in turn before he spun her around so that her back was once again against his chest.<br/> <br/>“What do you fear? That I am cheating on you?” he asked her, though he waited for no answer before he spun/shoved her away from him so that she landed back in that same chair.</span><br/><br/>“Did I say I was your keeper?” she snapped right back at him, her hand rising to smack him and smack him hard. Instead, it was caught, her body yanked in and pulled to his chest as he spoke in her ear, a frustrated sound escaping her as he brought up one of her fears as if it were nothing. How was she supposed to know if he was or wasn’t? Sneaking out in the middle of the night and refusing to say where you’d been didn’t bode well, nor did it speak to the trust he was asking of her. A few times is one thing…but to do it repeatedly and expect her to turn a blind eye to it when he knew that it’d be different if the roles were reversed?<br/><br/>As he spun her out, she impacted one of the bars and stayed there for a good minute before advancing on him again, trying to keep calmer than she felt. Following after him, she went to smack him but was caught again, which drew yet another sound of frustration as her body spun without her consent. Only when he’d started to shift did she shove at him, causing him to fall into the chair she’d abandoned. One leg rose high before coming down on the opposite side of him, her arms holding tight around him as her head rested, temporarily on his shoulder. And, despite her anger, her voice was quiet.<br/><br/>“…Would you tell me if you were?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> The question was not one that he expected, but one that he answered without hesitation.<br/> <br/>“Yes,” he whispered back to her before he pushed her back from his lap and then spun her away from him so that he could stand…could think. Hands combed roughly through his hair before he dragged them down his face, eyes cast to her as she stood a few feet from him.<br/> <br/><span style="font-style: italic">Could he do this? Could he have this?</span><br/> <br/>The thoughts angrily ran through his mind, before the thought to give up and just walk away. When he started to move so too did she, her hand catching his arm and pulling him back so that he had to face her. He raised his hand to push her away from him, but she stopped him and he reacted without a thought, his hand quick to grasp her about the throat and pull her in close to him.  There was that monster she should fear, the beast that he was for even now he could taste her pulse in his throat and yearned for her blood.</span><br/><br/>It was a small comfort that he<span style="font-style: italic">said</span>he'd tell her if he were cheating. But actions spoke louder than words, and his actions were pushing her away repeatedly, physically, emotionally and mentally as he pushed her off of his lap.<br/><br/>No, no he wasn’t going to get away that easily. He wanted to talk, so they’d talk. Pushing her off did nothing as she caught herself and straightened, watching him as he seemed to go through a thought pattern she wasn’t privy to. When he moved, she moved, catching hold of his hand as he tried to walk passed, forcing him to make the eye contact he seemed to be attempting to avoid with his exit. When he sought to push her off, she blocked him and pushed the hand away…<br/><br/>Only to be caught with a hand about her neck. Her eyes widened at his cold stare, the sudden pressure at her neck tight, hurting as she tried to break free, her head tossed from left to right, back impacting his chest until she managed to remove his hand, spinning around quickly and slapping him squarely in the face. The sound of the slap resonated through the space, even as she pushed his shoulders to get some space, ready to yell at him for what he’d done…but was met with a push of his own, losing balance and falling, hard, to the floor.<br/><br/>There was a look of anger, a look of shock, a look of hurt that crossed her features as he extended his hand, a hand that she took to yank herself up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she fairly growled beneath her breath as she sought to straighten out yet again.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">That was a good question and he wished that he could give her the answer she needed and deserved. When no answer came she turned as if to walk away and he just could not let that happen. Arms about her form, he whispered an apology though he knew that was not enough. First she jerked off one arm, then the other and repeated process again when wrapped his arms back around her. Free now she sought to stride away from him, so he had to stop her. His foot stretched out and he caught her foot at the ankle, so that when he jerked it she spun back around to face him yet again.</span><br/><br/>The apology went unheard as she struggled against his hold. Where he’d needed the space before to think and she’d not yielded, this time...she needed the space, the distance. He’d just put his hand around her neck and completely changed who he was in the blink of an eye. One moment, it was the irritable Athan she was growing accustomed to, and the next...it was like his humanity was gone. He was some cold-hearted stranger gripping her neck, and it wasn’t a light grip, either.<br/><br/>One arm was removed, but the other lingered. She got the other off and then the first was back. It took shrugging them both off simultaneously for her to get away, storming of only to feel his foot catch hers and spin her to face him. Reacting on instinct, she switched her weight from one foot to the other, one leg raising to stop him like she had in the chair...only this time...she shoved him, and shoved him back hard.<br/><br/>From the moment his back impacted the mirror, she regretted the action. She was still mad at him, but the guilt of what she’d just done had her stammering out an apology and rushing from the room.<br/><br/>As some of the glass fell to the floor, the director’s attention was called, hastening in with a few of the assistance and maintenance workers; By then, Tempest was already gone from the room. “What happened? Is everybody alright?” he asked, striding onto the stage and over to Athan with a look of concern. “Are you alright? Cut? How did you manage to fall into this?”<br/><br/>“He didn’t fall,” someone chimed in. “He and Tempest were dancing, and he was pushed back into mirror.”<br/><br/>His eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. “Tempest...pushed you? Was it intentional? You’re not the type to lose your balance…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">I deserve this.</span><br/><br/>Was the only thought that had gone through his mind as he impacted with the mirrors. Even as the shards cut into his back, his arms and legs, there was not even a hint of anger or annoyance. This was what he deserved, for all he had done to her, this was small in comparison. <br/><br/>Some of the other dancers came over to help him, while the director questioned him. “No, we were rehearsing something new and she just pushed me a little too hard that’s all,” he assured the director who was insistent that he go and get help from the nurse on hand. <br/><br/>As the glass was cleaned up, Colt left to go and find Tempest.  It did not take long, his nose aided in the hunt, though he could have followed the sounds of her frustrated packing all on its own. <br/><br/>“Hey,” he said when she came into view. “You ok?”</span><br/><br/>She was packing up in a flurry, angrily shoving things into her bag and tossing things from across the room. A few items she purposely threw at the walls first before having to march over and pick it up off of the floor to throw it a second time, this time aiming for her bag. A shirt was hastily pulled on, pants pulled on shortly thereafter and she’d been slipping into some shoes when Colt’s voice caught her attention.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Nope, not doing this right now,</span>came a thought as she gathered her things and took a breath, trying to calm herself while offering him a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, simultaneously jamming her foot into a shoe and trying to be nonchalant about it. “You should probably be checking on Athan, anyway. He’s the one you should be asking that question to.” Foot satisfactorily in her shoe, she glanced around at the otherwise abandoned room, making sure she had everything.<br/><br/>Bag slung over her shoulder, she walked passed him, intent on leaving. “You really shouldn’t be in here, you know. You’re lucky they’re busy with other things at the moment.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Colt watched her actions, noted her body language and made the decision to not let her storm off alone. “Yeah well, I don’t mind getting in trouble for a worthy cause,” he smiled. “As for Athan he had the director and some others tending to him,” he stated and advanced toward her a bit. “Besides I am more concerned about you, so how about we go grab a cup of coffee together? We can talk or even not talk, whatever you want,” he offered with as sincere a smile as his tone.</span><br/><br/>His actions, the advancement, made her feel suddenly claustrophobic. What she wanted was space, time to think, the ability to be alone and leave it to Colt to be the one who came looking for her. While his sincerity was appreciated, this wasn’t the time for coffee, or not talking. Shaking her head, she held the strap of her bag tighter. “I’m not really in the mood for coffee,” came her answer. Then came a slight frown. “Why are you more concerned for me, anyhow?” she asked next. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned I’ll push you into some mirrors or something? Seems to be my new thing, breaking things.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I am more concerned about you, because that dance was more than just a <span style="font-style: italic">dance</span>,” he said simply. “I saw the way he grabbed you and you were more than justified with how you reacted,” though he stayed where he was, it was hard as he wanted to go to her and hug her. To try and give her the comfort he thought she needed. <br/><br/>“Besides,” he grinned. “I am a bit more durable and I have no plans to piss you off like he did,” he stated simply while he continued to watch her. “If not coffee then something else, like perhaps a walk? I just don’t think you should be alone right now,” he said after a moment.</span><br/><br/>Part of her wanted to try and lie, to assure him there was nothing that Athan had done and that she’d merely been overzealous in her push; that he was making a bigger deal out of things than needed to be made. But, there was another part of her that didn’t think he’d buy it, even if she attempted, so what was the point?<br/><br/>Instead, she looked at him, watching him watch her and feeling self-conscious. Angry and self-conscious. Deciding to attempt to leave again, she pushed passed him. “What you saw...was nothing. It was part of a dance, an intense dance. My reaction was overzealous and unwarranted.” Then, after a moment, she added, “I’d rather be alone right now, anyway. The only walk I’ll be doing is to my apartment.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Colt knew what he wanted to do and what he thought may be best for her, but he was not one to force his will upon another. So, with a sigh he allowed her to push past him, not even making the smallest attempt to stop her. <br/><br/>“Could you do me at least one favor?” he asked and waited for her to look back at him before he posed his request. “Will you text or even call me, when you make it home safe?”</span><br/><br/>She’d nearly been out the door when he stopped her; She almost hadn’t stopped at all, but she reminded herself that she wasn’t mad at him...so her steps slowed to a halt, turning around to look at him with wary, tired eyes. His request surprised her, visibly showing on her face even if only a small portion.<br/><br/>The nod in reply was slow coming, eventually becoming a fluid action. “...I’ll call.” With that, she turned and left, out to take the long route home.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He watched for a while after she left, before he sighed and pulled out his phone. There were a few calls he had to make if he was going to try and help Athan out before he ruined everything for the both of them. <br/>---<br/><br/>The director’s office was converted into a med bay and Athan was allowed to rest up there while everyone else got back to work. What bit of concern the director might have had about the incident was assuaged thanks to the recount from the dancers who had witnessed it. His concern was replaced with excitement at the thought of how much money this new and apparently passionate dance would bring to the company. Already calls were being made to their advertisers to see what could be done to rush getting the word out about this new dance. <br/><br/>Athan, on the other hand, was in a world of guilt and self-loathing for what he had done to Tempest. There he laid on the old broken couch in the director’s office, already having counted the number of tiles on the ceiling as he listened to the steady ticking of the old clock at sat atop the desk. Though he heard him coming, no true acknowledgement was given to Colt until the wolf’s form loomed over him. Hands tucked casually in his pockets as he regarded the vampire coolly. <br/><br/>“Come to gloat?” Athan practically spat. <br/><br/>“No,” Colt said and produced a card from his pocket, which he promptly flicked onto Athan’s chest. “Here to help actually.” <br/><br/>“What’s this?” Athan asked, his head rose to look at the white card that was now held in his hand. <br/><br/>“That is a number to a friend of mine that can get you in on supply of blood bags so that you can get your shit together before you fuck this up for everyone,” Colt explained then turned as to leave. <br/><br/>“Wait…” Athan called to him and his tone stalled the wolf. “Why are you helping me?” <br/><br/>A glance over his shoulder and his eyes made contact with Athan’s, “Because everyone deserves to be happy.”  <br/><br/>Reply rather cryptic that left Athan wondering just who’s happiness Colt meant? However, he had little time to dwell or look the gifted horse in the mouth. Instead the number was dialed and he arranged to meet the guy in a few hours with the decided upon fee for the exchange. Hopefully, this would get him back in the good graces of Tempest whom he had to kiss a lot of ass for all the pain he caused her.</span><br/><br/>The walk home was longer than she’d originally intended it to be. Where her steps had taken her in its direction, she walked clear past and continued on until she eventually wound up back. Bag deposited by her door, she locked it and wandered the rest of the way in, flopping on her couch and staring at the ceiling. When that became unsatisfying as the events began to play out in her mind that’d transpired earlier that evening, she picked up a magazine and threw it as hard as she could at the wall, unintentionally breaking a picture frame simultaneously.<br/><br/>That sound, the glass shattering and falling to the floor only fueled her anger, as more was thrown and a few more things broken. It took a stop from her superintendent to make sure everything was “fine” and then a reprimanding for the noise for her to remember she’d said she’d call Colt when she got home. A sigh was loosed as she padded back to her bag, dug the phone out and dialed his number, not giving much of a greeting when she heard the other end pick up, but starting straight in. “I’m home. Have been for a few moments, but I’m home...Just calling like I said I would.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The rest of the evening rehearsals had been canceled, so Colt ended up going to the park for a bit. On a park bench he sat, the faded red paint cracked and peeled from hours of exposure and lack of care seemed inviting to him for some reason. This prompted him to sit a spell and it was there on that bench that Colt got the call when Tempest called as she said she would. <br/><br/>“Glad to hear it,” he replied with complete honesty. “Now that you are further from me, want to tell me what’s on your mind? I mean I think I am safe in this park from people who might try to throw mirrors at me or me into mirrors.” He tried a bit of humor the lighten the mood as best he could.</span><br/><br/>What made him think that there was anything on her mind? Sure, they were further apart now, and the urge to throw things was lessened, but that didn’t mean anything was on her mind. For all he’d seen, she and Athan had danced. What was so hard to believe that it’d been anything else?<br/><br/>“Nothing really to tell,” Tempest replied with a shrug. “We were dancing and my strength got the better of me.” Something on her mind now, though, was curiosity. “...Why are you so sure something’s on my mind? I feel like you’re trying to psychoanalyze me...like I should be on a lounge while you ask me how things make me feel.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He laughed into the phone, “I would more picture you lounging while being served fresh fruit from the waiting trays of your male servants.” <br/><br/>There was a brief pause before he pressed on, “I’m sorry if it seems that I am prying, but I am mainly just concerned about you and had hoped that with you having taken a walk and such you might want to share with me what was on your mind when you left. I know more happened than just the dance and even went to see Athan after you left. He feels like shit by the way and I am betting you can expect some huge ass bouquet of flowers or something similar very soon from him.” <br/><br/>Another pause and he finally admitted, “I have never seen him like that before and I was worried about you. Had things progressed I likely would have stepped in and done something to <span style="font-style: italic">him</span>. I just want to make sure you are ok…” tone sincere as he just let his words trail off.</span><br/><br/>To say Tempest was surprised by his words was an understatement. She was shocked that he’d been so concerned. It wasn’t like she didn’t consider him a friend of some kind...just not overly close, either...and she’d have been lying if she said the visual of Colt punching Athan in the face didn’t make her smile. Just a bit, though, as she was still angry, still hurt by the turn of events.<br/><br/>She’d been scared when he grabbed her throat. It’d hurt, and the look in his eyes hurt worse, like he’d completely disassociated from her.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry I haven’t been wanting to...talk about it,” she replied quietly, letting out a heavy sigh as she dropped on her couch unceremoniously. “I don’t even know...what happened. One minute, we’re talking about how he’s been skipping out at night (well...I’m talking about it, and he’s avoiding it, snapping at me like I have no right to ask about it), and the next his hand was…” Her voice trailed off for a long moment as a hand rose to feel at her throat. “...Can’t really say anything, though. I broke my own rule, and it’s biting me in the ass.” Shrugging, despite his inability to see the action, she continued. “...Thank you, though...for making sure I was okay...for even paying attention to things being off. To be honest, I hadn’t realized you were there at all since it wasn’t our rehearsal day; I promise, though, this thing with Athan...it won’t affect work. I told you once before it wouldn’t jeopardize anything, and I meant it. That still holds true today. I’ll still dance with him, with you, with both of you. Please believe that.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">For some reason, the fact that she was so concerned about how this would affect their dance made him smile. Perhaps, it had to do with the fact that this blow up between them could have proven him right from his earlier statement. However, the thought had not even crossed his mind instead it was more focused on her and how she had fared. <br/><br/>“You know that was the last thing on my mind, but thank you for assuring me,” the smile evident in his tone. “So, what are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” He knew the answer would be sleeping, but he felt the need to ask her anyway to be polite.</span><br/><br/>His smile was met with a small one of her own, as she shifted about on her couch and let out another sigh. The question he posed, though, had her perking a brow. “Sleeping,” she confirmed. “I don’t think I’ve gone out in the light since...I got the gig with the dance company. No need, really, now that my sleep schedule has been altered so much. Why? What’ll you be doing before our rehearsal?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He leaned back against the bench, his arms placed along the back as he got a bit more comfortable. “I was wondering if you might brave the sun for some lunch with me?” he asked then added to see if he could get a laugh. “I will even bring some sunblock so that you are not burnt to a crisp,” he joked.</span><br/><br/>There wasn’t a laugh, but there was a lighter tone in her voice when she answered. “You want me to get up early? Like...early early?” she asked. “I normally don’t even start waking up until...five anymore.” A pause, and then she added, “...What time were you considering?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He chuckled, “Not too terribly early. Something around two o’clock. That should be doable right?”</span><br/><br/>“Two o’clock? Are you trying to kill me?” came her reply. “That’s like...asking me to hold my breath and stand only on my head indefinitely.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Way I figure it, we can cut rehearsal short to make up for my wanting to spending time with you in the…daytime,” the last two words said with a tone of mocked horror.</span><br/><br/>“We need that rehearsal time, though. Our dance isn’t even remotely ironed out, yet,” Tempest reasoned. “Besides, what’s so good about the...daytime? It’s...bright...What else is there?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I think our dance is coming along just fine and the daytime has this thing called people and lunch, and well I honestly don’t think I have seen you in the daylight. I’m kind of curious as to whether or not you will burst into flames,” he teased and adjusted his position so that he sat more forward, his elbows now rested on his knees. “So, what do you say?”</span><br/><br/>“And I have breakfast at five at night...not sure why time denotes what meal you can have,” she replied, with the lightest of laughs peppering her tone. “But...while you haven’t seen me out in daylight, I can assure you I don’t burst into flames; Only vampires do that and I’m the exact opposite...minus the avoiding daylight thing.” Another light laugh was given, that shifted to a groan. “You really want me up that early?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The irony of her words made him snicker, though it played off with the content of the conversation. “I would like it, but you are not obligated to do it. I mean it is not like I won’t be up dancing all on my own on the street corner to try and find someone to share a meal with me, so that I don’t have to yet again eat on my own,” overly dramatic and pitiful tone in full swing with this one.</span><br/><br/>“Oh god, fine! Fine, so long as I can wake up,” she hastily replied. “Just please, please no more sob stories! The image of you peddling your dance on the corner for just a taste of some other man’s burrito is...not an image I want.” Wrinkling her nose, she hoisted herself up from the couch and started shuffling toward the bathroom and, after that, the bedroom. “If I can wake up, sure. If I can’t...try not to bang my door down, huh?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I’ll make sure to leave my fez hat at home,” he joked and stood from the bench to start his way home. “I make no promises about the door though, so you may not want to sleep naked,” a final tease for the night. “Good night, Tempest. Sweet dreams,” tone light and friendly.</span><br/><br/>“I sleep like the dead, so lets...not break down my door and scare my neighbors,” she laughed. “But, bring the fez. If you don’t have that on...how will I be able to tell who you are in the...daylight?” After a pause and a yawn, now thoroughly exhausted from the earlier events of that day, she finally replied, “Good night, Colt. Sweet dreams to you, too.”