~ Love Amidst a Lie… {Uriel x Doctor Red} <3

[Uriel Seraphim]

Fog, everything she dreamt was clouded by fog. There was pain and darkness; the smell of blood, sex and candle wax in the air. Jessamine felt suffocated, writhing against restrains that cut into her wrists, thighs and mouth. It went on for what seemed like an eternity, the fear chocking her like a thick black smoke. She screamed but no sound erupted from her mouth, fought but could not feel her body move. Then, the gentles of whispers began to smooth everything away. "You're safe Jessamine... I'll keep you safe."

Jess woke. Sweat dripping from her body, breath coming in short gasping pants. The alarm clock beside her read 22:22; the same as it did every night when she awoke from the dreams. The dreams... every time she woke they would vanish again, recede into her subconscious and hide from her probing questions. It was always worse when she drank, worse when she was near a hospital, worse when she was near death...  but Jessamine tried her hardest not to dwell on something her own mind knew she would not be able to handle. She got out of bed, put on her black and grey dragon printed kimono and headed outside for a smoke. She felt numb, but ever since the incident there wasn't much else she could feel. Once she made it out onto the porch Jessamine sit down, pulled out her pack of Marlboros and lit up. The bitter sweet taste of ash filled her mouth as she inhaled as deeply as she could. Her cell phone vibrated against her side, the flimsy kimono offering very little protection from its tingling motion. It was Jonathon, her best friend by modern standards.

It was about three cigarettes later that the moving trucks started to arrive and unload next door. And merely a few minutes later when the new inhabitant pulled up. She tried her best not to look, assuring herself it would simply be 'another pot smoking twit' moving in. As much as she hated the people she lived near, Jessamine did think it lucky she'd never need to go far should she ever long for a joint. But the likely hood of Jessamine smoking pot against after her accident... well, it was about as likely as Jimmy Fallon actually being funny.

But then... as the newbie emerged from his car, Jessamine froze. The still lit cigarette between her fingers slipped and bounced along the ground.

She knew him.

[DoctorRed]

In lazy curls, his dark brown hair was shoulder-length as he stood in the night air. It served to keep the emeralds beneathe from seeing too much at times, but he still rarely thought to cut it. He breathed deeply of the night air, his lungs drinking merrily to the black daytime, his palms flat on the top of his car. It wasn't a bad car, he supposed,  but he'd been dissuaded from he ostentatious things he'd loved so in life. No longer did he adorn his body in gold and jewels, seeking to fluff himself as a peacock. No, the humans now made themselves primp and fluff by other means and he'd followed right along. To live among sheep you must not only wear their skin on the outside. You must be sheep. He wore clothes of quality, never settling for something of a lesser form, regardless of how much easier it would make it. The fine shirts and jackets he wore were as low as he was willing to sink.  Silks and finery he still sought, but no longer did he worry that he'd need a thousand colored different robes, and he'd never beckon forward a forge masters' mark on a suit of armor, or a blade. His heart missed the taste of steel the way he'd known it as a mortal, but there was just nothing to be done. Humans had evolved, and in this world, if you didn't evolve, you were just as dead as... well, he was.

But evolve he had. His memories had faded, like an obelisk standing in a desert. With the winds and harsh sands had come the wounds that no structure could ignore. Before too long, what had once been an immaculate carving was faded and smoothed down. Whatever had been written upon it's surface once was a thousand years ago, and only speculation could speak of it's nature.  The memories of a bygone age were gone, their only evidence were the raised markings on his body. The things he'd coated his body in before his body had become

The man who sat in the car was an agent of an organization that sought to balance the world. In light of this, his body was emblazoned by tattoos from he ages, scored by a thousand marks that represented his beliefs. In his younger years, he'd wandered the countryside, believing his body a tapestry to be covered in the story that would define him. Years later, he'd moved forward with his life. His body had neither grown nor stretched. It retained the consistence as it had when he was younger, his body undying and unyielding. A creature somehow removed from time itself. A tall and lanky frame had been what his body had become before, and thankfully he'd filled it out for the most part. His body was tall and full, the image of men from his time. It would have been less disconcerting if he'd not been from such a time as that.  A vampire, truth told. His body was immortal, and removed from time, but that was the only thing. The man who stood beside the car he didn't appreciate as much as he might have some gilded car a man of his rank had no business bestowing upon himself. The shadows cast by the street lamps and moon hanging upon the night sky revealed him not to be a warrior from the past, more so he looked now to simply be a man who worked out a lot. Truth told, he could laze about for a hundred more years, and long before he needed to flex a muscle to maintain it. He was doomed never to increase his strength, but neither would he lose it. He leered up at his new home the way he might have a new business.

Trying to still his face and resist the urge to turn his eyes directly upon her, he tried to drink her in from his peripheral vision. To take in from just that glance he'd gotten what he couldn't turn and drink in directly. He shouldn't look. He should ignore her and stop recalling the night he sat with his feet propped up in that ruined hovel, leering down at her. She'd been a broken creature. Something that should never have been saved. He had wondered then what would be more merciful. To take away the memories her body would never forgive and let her live with that emptiness. His heart had gone out to the bloodied thing there, and he'd felt the blood, sticky and decaying on his fingers when he cradled her against him and whispered the words.

One of his own had cut loose and lost it. He'd done this to her, ripped her body. Torn her. Beaten her. If he'd had his way, he would have ended her as well, but that was when the Brothers had arrived and cut him down. Alone in the room with what amounted to two corpses, he'd decided to reach out and draw her back up. Then he'd spoken the words into her ear. He shouldn't have done it, but it had... felt right. He started up his walk, passing by the working movers who were putting his furniture and boxes away where he'd designated everything be moved days ago. Some of it wasn't even his, only things that would make his new hovel seem more.. homely. Paintings he liked, sculptures. He paused at the door and gave another glance around before disappearing within the entryway. No need to beg an invitation. He owned the place, now.

"You're safe Jessamine..." Dante had whispered, holding her body against his as he took her away from it. " I'll keep you safe."

But that had been the past. He'd been working then, as he was now, but she wouldn't remember what he'd done, the sight of her captor being cut down on top of her, his body torn asunder by the hands of his brothers. His memory from he past lived in dreams and visions, but the last hundred years were his current life. He remembered her scene like it was happening now.

[Uriel Seraphim]

She knew him, remembered him. Jessamine wasn't sure what she was surprised by more, the fact that someone from her past had moved in next door... or the fact she actually remembered someone from her past. She could only glimpse his profile from where she sat, immobile against his presence. He looked better put together than most that lived around these parts; even the drug dealers looked scruffy half the time. 'He could be a pimp...' she thought to herself. But he looked too grounded to be a man of such standing; he wasn't covered in gaudy materials or flashy jewelry.... 'How the hell do I know you?'

When he entered the house, something shifted inside of her. She wanted answers, and something told her he was the one who had them. She stood, her back held to a strong stiff angle as she marched up the steps towards his front door and knocked angrily against it. She was determined. She would have her answers. "Oi! Get out here!" she growled. She wasn't thinking clearly, but something told her rationality was in no way important.

He knew her and she knew him... she needed to know why.

[DoctorRed]

He had been walking from room to room, checking upon different things in the house. He would probably rarely use the kitchen, but he supposed if he had the option of eating such food he would have liked the kitchen full of things that were tools he didn't understand. He sighed and turned about. Opening the cooling unit, he leered in at a plethora of things he wouldn't himself eat. They were just things he would feed to people if they had stopped by, or happened inside. To divert suspicion.  The things being brought in through the garage were mostly for the same thing. His coffin wasn't a large and ostentatious, obvious ordeal. It was a dresser, at least on the outside, but the drawers were 'locked'. Within, plush and grave soil would house him during the daylight hours when he wanted to sleep.

He was making a quick round in the inside of the house before he heard her voice. He could smell her now, and was breathing in her scent as he approached. He leered out from the darkness for  a moment and then he pushed open the door, letting her get out of the way, stepping down before her, a hand on his hip. An eyebrow raised. He drank in her attitude and watched her face, wondering what she'd say. What she'd do. That she'd found him an anomaly in any way was disconcerting. At no point had he spent time with her while she was like this. It had been when she was broken and dying on the floor, never when she was. His unpulse quickened, the dead heart beating, but hardly relevant to whether he lived or died. The organ thudded for a moment, the sound of it pounding as he turned his eyes on to hers, tilting his head. He frowned at her, wondering what was next.

"Uh... Yes?" he asked, his head tilting. His voice was thick and husky as befit a man of his size. It was deep and layered in confusion, hoping to diffuse whatever had set her off so suddenly. He held his palm on the door, keeping it slightly ajar, as if worried something might transpire here. He took this moment to flick his eyes over her body, carefully taking her in. He told himself it was about body language, but it was a paltry joke. Men don't check body language, they just check body. "Is something... awry?"

[Uriel Seraphim]

She shook slightly when he appeared in the doorway, displeasure at her tone clearly painted across his face. It wasn't his height or his size that frightened her, but his anger. Jessamine felt... almost nervous. "Why... why do I know you?" she stammered out. "I remember you, nothing else, but I remember you! Why the hell do I remember you!" her hands twitched at her side as she felt the irresistible urge to beat the answer out of him if necessary. But judging from his size, it was highly unlikely she'd do any good.

"Look, I know you know what happened and I want the truth. Now." She felt frozen to the core, waiting for him to answer her. Jessamine felt needy for the first time in her life. She had been a happy woman once upon a time, independent and wild. But she was tired now, broken down after losing so much of her past. She survived now, didn't smile if she didn't have to, didn't laugh when she knew nothing was truly funny... Jess understood she was broken. But it was her determination to fix things, to return to what she was once that drove her angered questioning.

[DoctorRed]

He stood there watching her, not sure what to say. His tongue quivered and his heart went out to her for a second time. She knew, he thought. She knew, and she hates me for the existence I left her with. He licked his lips and his brow furrowed for a moment and he  tilted his head. A lie, the truth, or feign innocence? He wasn't sure. His pulse quickened and his mind raced, rolling the dice in his head to choose.

"You... remember me?" he asked, his voice a little stern, as if he were talking to a child. Saying it out loud drew up the terror in his heart, the implication that maybe she did. He didn't check on her. Not himself, and not directly. He didn't know what she retained, or what she remembered from that time. He licked his lips. "Did we meet sometime, maybe?" he asked, letting the door go. Pretending to be afraid was never his strong suit so he drew his fingers back, folding his arms and leaning back against the door. He gave a scathing glance to the moving men who had paused to look at the outburst, but at his behest, they redoubled their efforts to be done with it. He'd made it clear earlier that he wanted things done on time and precisely. He turned his gaze back on her.

"Did something... happen...?" he asked. It drew knives into his gut to ask her that. If there was anything within her that would be drawn to the surface, this test of him being there would be the line to snatch it out by. But, what if she didn't want that? Was there a way to know, beyond the shadow of a doubt in the end, what one decision in the darkness could have taken from someone? If he'd left her there, to die, would she have died at least less hateful? If he had, would he be more so?

[Uriel Seraphim]

His voice was a contradiction to Jessamine. It was deep and husky, melodic to her ears and about as well bodied as the rest of him. But that underlying tone of irritation, of confusion irritated her. Jessamine felt stupid at his tone, as if she were being scolded. Her eyes began to water. "Do not act as if you don't know what I'm talking about." She did not like the idea of being made a fool of, and if she hadn't been so certain of his knowledge, she likely would have crumbled.

Her eyes went wide at his next words, "You... but... no!" she scowled at him as her voice filled with fury. "I don't know what happened you Dolt! But you do! You know exactly what happened to me!" she poked him then, a stupid childish movement but one she did not realize she was employing. "I don't care how long I have to stand here, or what I have to do. But you are going to tell me what you know." She felt the porch light of the other neighbors behind her. It was bad enough this man was treating her like a child, she didn't need the neighbors witnessing it as well.

She let out an exasperated sight and pushed past him then, taking advantage of her small frame and entering his house. "I'm not leaving until I have my answer."

[DoctorRed]

"What you're-...?" He'd struck out there for a moment. The man didn't have an answer for what she was asking him and she'd seen through the paltry farce. He tilted his head as she assaulted him and thought about gripping her wrist, stopping. He considered a hundred different ways to deflect the whole thing before he was brushed past by her stammering impatience. He reached out to stop her halfheartedly and only whisked his fingers through the ends of her hair as she past and sighed softly, shaking his head. He turned and looked at the door, wondering idly what she'd do if he locked the door, turned and drove off. She'd probably just hop on in the car, he thought. Oh well.

He noted the neighbors for a moment an gave a wave before pushing the door open and steeling inside behind her, pulling the door shut. A lamp had arrived in his absence outside and he flicked it on, bathing the room in a tinted light, brimming full of the way his old apartment had looked. It pleased him, but the rooms were only half-loaded up, he knew. He stepped into the room, pushing the door firmly shut behind him. His eyes sought her but before he found her he was already speaking.

"What do you think it is that I can tell you that you can't tell yourself?" he asked the shadows, folding his arms. "I'm not going to run you off, but it'd be nice if you were to ask, before entering." he forgot sometimes that it wasn't the humans that had to ask permission as well, it was just him. He stopped seeking her out and moved to the kitchen, standing in the room again, he drew out a plate of cookies and set it on the counter. He wasn't sure how house guests were to be treated, but he assumed it was the same as it always was. With food and idle conversation. Oh, how he longed for something more idle to speak of. He sighed and leaned against the sink, his arms folded again.

"What if my answer was that I had determined that you didn't need to know, Jessamine?" The deception leaked out of his voice and he lowered it as well as he leered. Truth echoed around the house and the movers shuffled by, hardly sparing him a second glance.

[Uriel Seraphim]

His question made her pause, "You... you know why I can't remember things. Two years ago... you... I know you were there." She looked at him then, not his annoyingly attractive appearance or anything of that caliber. Rather, she stared into his impossibly emerald eyes and tried to appeal to whatever humanity, whatever sanity was there. "If I remember you, I have to believe it's important and I have to believe you know what I can't remember."

She looked towards the door, a frown crinkling the space between her brows. She sighed then, "I'm sorry. I'm not exactly polite when I'm angry okay? If you want me out, just tell me what you know and I'll leave."

She crossed her arms once he voiced his opinion, looked at the plate of cookies with confusion and began to answer his question. "If that was what you had decided, then I'd ask why you think you have any right to keep what is mine from me. If you are as much of a stranger as you say you are, you have no right to keep anything from me. I would ask you how you could decide something like that when you have no idea what I can or can't handle or what I 'need to know'." It took every ounce of dignity she had not go to him, grab at his clothes and shake the answer out of him.

The corner of her lips twitched up into a half hearted smile. "What I'd probably ask you first however, is how you know my name if we hadn't met before."

She walked around the room and paused when she noted a fine, expensive looking statue... "You're not a junky, you're not a drug dealer, and I highly doubt you're a pimp considering you haven't hit or hit on me yet. So why move into this neighborhood? You've obviously got money, it's not like being here is all too plausible for someone of your... standing."

[DoctorRed]

"I was in a place," he admitted. He wanted to reach out to her and spill the cup of shadows from his heart, to allay her fears with his and lay the unknown to rest, but how could he? Could he tell her the truths that he himself couldn't explain? He let his eyes lay upon hers, pleased that she  maintained her eye contact, instead of shifting. There was no reason not to believe that her courage was false, at least.  How could he tell her that his brother had raped and beaten her, and when he had come upon them, killed one and gave took  life he should have been blood-bound to give to his kin and bestowed it upon her, with hope that her heart was less impure than his brothers? 'Oh, yeah, I spent a few thousand years with someone I thought I knew inside and out, and when his nature was revealed to me, I was so repulsed by it, I cut him down. No big deal.'
"I know that you... I know that your heart yearns fo rme to tell you everything, but I promise you... Even if I were to tell you everything I could, it would not bring you peace."

There were other shadows in the cup. More than just this. If she remembered, where was the face she was looking at now. His brother and he had been night and day when the Brothers had fallen upon them, but in the darkness, few were able to tell the difference between them. When she remembered, what if it was him at the end of the knife, cutting, raping and beating her down? She might be less-than-gracious. He struggled to find the words.

I chose for you because when I was young I spoke to a holy man who taught me that Knowing is not always absolution, but more often than not, absolution is found not knowing. Pain begets pain.

"I had no business, you might be right. But what's done is done.  If I was wrong to close them, who am I to have a hand in pulling the curtains open?" he resolved himself to say, leering at her as she walked about. The movers were still scurrying about, but he ignored them. They'd be done and gone before long and that would be that. He turned his eyes over her, watching as she approached the statue. "You know we've met before, Jessamine. You can feel it as easily as I can. I don't deny it. But what does it matter?"

"And you think I moved here so you could accost me on my porch moments after I grace it for the first time?" he scoffed a little, but half-heartedly. He wanted to wound with words where he dare not do so with truths. "Would it comfort you for me to hit on you, to make a pass?" he raised an eyebrow, his tongue brushing the edge of his lip, his  voice dropping to the tone he'd have used were he hitting on her.

[Uriel Seraphim]

He admitted his knowledge, that was enough for her to be happy at least. But as he went on... his decision annoyed her. "You don't have the right to decided that. I'm sorry, but don't you think if it's my past and I decide I want to know what happened, shouldn't that be my choice? I know it wont be pretty, if I've forgotten it there must be a reason..." she looked away from him then and went to stand by one of the windows, "a wise man said once that we have to face our demons in order to overcome them. Id I don't know what they are... how could I know whether or not I'm strong enough to overcome them?"

Jessamine was silent as she listened to him, letting her eyes wander from the window to his admittedly attractive form. She couldn't deny she was attracted to him, but whether it was because of his appearance or his knowledge of her... Jess couldn't be certain. Perhaps she felt drawn to him for both reasons, or perhaps... perhaps there was something else that made her feel the need to move towards him and be as close as she possibly could. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, do anything she could to convince him... but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was about what she truly wanted to convince him of.

She thought about that, thought about whether or not it would make her feel better if she were to hit him. She wanted to, there was no denying it. But the facts remained, she may have been strong, but she was in no way vein enough to think it would harm him. "If it were to hurt you, then yes. But that's not the case is it?" her smile was sad as she looked away and went to sit on a couch that had just been brought in by the movers. "I doubt I'd be able to hurt you as much as I'd like, and if my actions have no point, why carry them out at all?"

She sighed and rubbed her brows in exasperation. "Man I need a drink," she whispered to herself. Working part time as a waitress at the Black Talon had its benefits at least, half price drinks just happened to be one of them.

[DoctorRed]

"A wiser man would say that demons are something for angels to strike down, not for the humble man to lash out at, lest he become their victim," he told her, leaning against the doorway and watching her. He was gnashing his teeth mentally, as he watched her, wondering what he should do. He didn't have any direct orders regarding this, so it was up to him. But him doing what pleased him had brought them to this. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't just flee, and get away. Leave her here. But no, that would be worse, wouldn't it? Seeing him would be the implication that the time had happened, a tear in the skin that would spill the contents in time. That thought struck him. In time, she might reach this conclusion on her own...

"Lashing out at me will never bring you peace, but if you must try it..." he moved forward and stood before her, taking her hand and laying it upon his face, obscuring his vision of her. "Cut out my eyes. Tear out my tongue. Strike me. Lash out. Those feelings will pass in time, but maybe it'll quell your rages for now," he told her, drawing her hand away from his face to look at her over it. "But I know your anger, and I know you're afraid. I was afraid once too."

He dropped her fingers and let them fall, turning away and stalking off. He returned and held a bottle with two glasses. He set them down on the side table before digging around. He produced a wallet and drew out an old picture. A Polaroid of something old. He carefully turned it to show her. In the dark to someone not paying attention, it was him. But  anyone who studied it well, would see small differences. This man was thinner where he was bulkier. He was darker, where Richard was lighter, less leering. This man was his brother, and now he was gone.

"Do you know this man?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes on hers. What he didn't say was 'This man raped and killed you. Do you remember him?'

[Uriel Seraphim]

As he took her hands in his and held it against his face... she couldn't hear him anymore. It was merely the feel of his hands on hers, his cold skin beneath her own that captivated her mind. She did not want to let go, merely stare into his eyes and lose herself. When he moved away... it still took Jessamine a moment to recover. 'I was afraid once too...' he said. It perplexed her, well, until he produced a photograph.

She took the photo between her fingers when he handed it to her. Once she looked at it, every part of her body froze, clenched against the knowledge of this man. She was shaking, but to Jessamine the world had stopped. The photo was old, too old to be from this century... but she knew this man; was truly afraid of this man. She didn't realize her eyes had begun to water until she looked up at her neighbor. "H-he... hurt me." The image of a the man in the photo grinning, sharp pointed teeth like that of an animal were coated in blood... it brought tears to her eyes as she remembered him. She glanced from the photo to his face, comparing them, noticing the small differences and large similarities... "He was your brother, wasn't he?" she almost whispered.

[DoctorRed]

The man wished to draw his fingers across her skin longer, but it was not for him to do so, and certainly not here. He moved  to kneel in front of her as she scrutinized the picture, the hairs on the back of his neck rising when she recognized him, but some of them relaxed when she didn't assume it was him. She was crying, he could see, but she wasn't panicking. He felt horrific for what he was doing, but the news had been good. He relaxed a little and took the photo from her fingers as she admitted her recognition and he tucked it back away, moving to his knees to access the wallet as he did so.

"Aye," he said, his fingers freezing at the second thing she said, her sudden revelation, the haunting reminder that would have followed him in mirrors, had he a reflection. He froze, his face a mask as he trembled only a moment, trying to tuck the image away, and get it away from him. Rage and pain surfaced in the pools of his heart and he felt his jaw tighten, his eyes burn in the semi-darkness.  He tried with all his might to push it aside as he spoke the words. "He did hurt you...  but he's gone now."

Clumsily the wallet disappeared and suddenly he couldn't look her in the eyes. The grace and composure he'd honed for a thousand years left him and he tried to tuck it away, but fumbled with it. He got it away and muttered an excuse about the cork he couldn't get himself, though he could probably handle it despite that. He went to the kitchen to dig around for it anyways.

[Uriel Seraphim]

He seemed... angry, or hurt. It had not been her intention. As he made his flimsy excuse and left the room, it took her a moment before following after him quietly. Truth be told, she wasn't really thinking. It felt as if her body was acting in spite of her shocked mind.

She hugged him from behind hesitantly, the barest of touches to begin with. It was a stupid motion, but Jessamine had truly never done well with emotional situations. Her friends had often commented that the girl either had no heart or was missing a vital piece of it. But perhaps... it was this memory, or lack of memory that had created her inability to connect and interpret. "Safe..." she whispered, "I'll keep you safe." It took her a moment before she spoke again, the mascara soaked tears beginning to dry as her worrying was silenced. It was nice to think of those words, no matter how horrifying her dreams were... those words had always been a comfort. "You said that to me once, didn't you?" She stated a coy smile and rosy blush coloring her face.

Being so close to someone again felt nice, even if he was freezing cold to the touch. She was used to the bar scene now, leaving with whatever bloke had bought her last drink yet waking up alone each time. But that was not about comfort; that was about staving off the nightmares and the need for some form of companionship. It kept her from feeling as alone as she truly was, kept her from being without some form of protection once again...

She moved away from him then, turned with a nervously excited laugh. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just awkward in social situations." He'd probably already picked up on that, all things considered. But Jessamine wasn't too worried about it. After all, she wouldn't likely speak to him again once she learnt what she wanted. There was no reason to, was there? She would have no use for him, and surely this stranger would be glad to have her out of his house and out of his life.

She looked back at him, the ghost of a smile still dancing across her lips. "Ah, I... I'm sorry, I... well, I hugged you and I don't even know your name." Truth be told, she'd done a lot more with a man without ever learning his name, but that wasn't important.

[DoctorRed]

He'd laid his palms flat on the counter top when she surprised him. His body tightened and stiffened when she put her arms around him, his breathe caught as he heard her words spill from her lips. He should have noticed her follow him, but it was just...  in one stroke, he'd crushed two lives, ruining them. One had been killed outright, but the way she talked, she made it feel as though he may well have killed two of them that night. Perhaps it would have been better that way. To just turn around with flashing claws, to rend her asunder. Surely she couldn't hate him for it, not after the terror she'd endured.

"Safe," he repeated, the tears on his face burning. They were blood, his body didn't produce the salty tears that men carried. No longer could he taste his own tears from anguish, joy or sorrow. He drew his sleeve across his face, rubbing them away, turning to face her. "I did say it to you, once," he told her, his eyes closed as he reached out and caught her hand before she could move too far away. He pulled her close, his arms folding around her, his face buried in her hair.

"But I lied to you, sweet Jessamine," his whispers confided, his palms on her, not looking at her face. "I didn't save you. I wanted to... but I couldn't. " He didn't speak as he held her against him for a few moments, letting her say what she was going to say, ignoring the comments, his body stilled, if only for the moment.  He stood up straight and turned away, his palm on the counter again as he turned  away from her again.

"Richard. My name was Richard. And I'm... sorry,"

[Uriel Seraphim]

"When you said that to me, I think I felt safe... I think I dream about it sometimes, dream about what happened to me... your words are the only ones I remember, I have to believe I think about them so often for a reason." She blushed and turned away from him when she realized what she had just said. She had not felt so innocent or awkward in a very long time. It felt... nice, like she was whole again...

"I think you did what you thought was right," she said softly, "I survived. With time, I've learnt that's all that really matters: our survival matters."

"Tell me something about yourself." She said; a pensive stare hiding behind her eyes. "I... I don't know what history we have, Richard. And I feel as if we should know something of one another if we are to trust in the other person." She looked at him then, glancing away every now and again in order to get her emotions in check. It worried her some, that she wanted to move closer to him, felt drawn towards this creature. She assumed it was merely physical attraction, a need to touch and taste and tease her way across his body. But she did not understand her underlying desires for him, her want to relive those few seconds of relief she could remember.

She caught herself inching towards him and stopped, frowning with confusion at her own actions. It was not natural to want to touch someone so badly, was it? Jessamine had always believed in animal instinct, everything was driven by those underlying desires... She moved away from him and went to sit on the couch once again, afraid she would continue to inch forward until she was pressed against him. 'One should not fuck the neighbors,' she thought to herself.  

[DoctorRed]

The smell of her hair stuck in his nose, along with the skin and perfume. Everything she was, he could smell on her and it was intoxicating. Super-senses were incredible, but with his slipping efforts, he found himself slipping. His nose was taking over and he was drinking her in the way he would a piece of art. He was glad he'd let go of her, in a way, but only because he knew that he'd be thinking on the smell even if he had sent her away just then. He shook his head clear, listening to her, trying to tie himself down.

"But it's not. Not to me. Surviving is meaningless unless you're protecting the ones that matter to you. Unless you're... Making something. Creating."

He turned to face her again, painting his composure onto his face carefully as he leered into her eyes.  He watched as she stopped edging her way towards him, much to the greedy and defiant part of him's dismay. He watched her go and licked his lips, rolling his sleeve up. The button-down he was wearing was ruined, but no one need see that until he discarded it. He unbuttoned the vest he'd worn and stood int he doorway, watching her.

Trust? What was that? He had co workers he trusted to do their jobs because of their experience. He was trusted because of his experience. "What do you want to know?" he asked, striding through the room to the wine bottle. He uncorked it deftly and flicked the cork across the room, to bounce into the kitchen. He poured two glasses, taking his in his hands and leering at it, standing and leaning against the wall from her. He wanted to do so much, but what was the right thing? Should he tell her the truth, or lie? Should he just pack up and move, make on of his assistants live here? What if that man did the same? He couldn't hope to happen upon the same thing twice. He ground his teeth.

"Also...Are you going to be here until I cave?"

[Uriel Seraphim]

She shrugged her shoulder, "Mostly? The truth." She stated bluntly, "But I'll take whatever you're willing to tell me." She crossed her legs and took the glass of wine he offered her. She did not waste time and sip at her wine as most polite individuals would. No, most of her manners went out the window after her accident, after she moved away from home and dropped out of Uni. But Jessamine did not dwell on the subject; she found it too depressing to be of any use thinking about. After all, most would have seen it as her merely being a lesser person, but when it becomes too difficult to be around everything that was familiar, when all that once felt safe reminds you of evils... Jessamine knew it was not good for her sanity to stay there.

She set down the glass once it was drained and shook her head as if the alcohol content was already taking affect, "not until you cave," she corrected, her eyes staring deeply into her emerald orbs, "just until I'm satisfied." Her voice was deeper when she said it, a husky undertone lacing its way through the chorus of songbird like tones. Wine had always done wonders for her inhibitions, made her less mindful of what was right and better in tune with what she wanted. She glanced down and his leg and let her slim fingers tip toe their way across it, "is that a problem?" Jessamine asked half-heartedly, the ghost of a nervous smile touching her lips.

[DoctorRed]

He waved a hand and sighed, shrugging. "The truth," he said, pondering it's meaning for only a moment before he took a sip of the wine. It was a superficial gesture, but sometimes when he was feeling nostalgic, he put blood in his glass before he drank. It was pleasing, at times, but other times just depressing. He leered at the glass. He sipped again before speaking. "I work. I am my work. When I do it, I work with people to secure important things. Sometimes work is dangerous, but it's my favorite thing. It's given my life closure to things I never thought I would feel an end to." he told her. He stopped and let his mouth sag a bit. He'd never said the words bu t doing it now made him feel... better. Hearing them aloud gave a new truth to them, one he'd never known before.

"Never," he'd whispered, still not looking up. he'd moved to the couch beside her reluctantly but not because he didn't want to. Her smell was pleasing to him, and having been only around the bloody movers all day, it was a welcome relief to him from what he'd dealt with all day. He drank her in and let himself close his eyes for a moment and sigh, blissfully unaware of what she'd been getting at. "Satisfie... Oh." he murmured, looking at her. It'd only been a little wine, but she might as well have drank the whole bottle. He wondered what could have done that to her, before he took her fingers in his palm, turning them to his lips He kissed them once, and rolled his thumb across her knuckles before letting them go.

"I wish I could believe that this was something you even wanted, but this is hardly the way to beg me for information, Jessamine." his voice lowered again, but not the threatening way he probably should have.  It sank the way he would have if he'd taken her body and pressed it to the wall, his palms on her body, his lips by her ear, but not, thankfully enough so that he was breathing heavily. He at least retained that dignity. To punctuate the thought, he turned his eyes to hers again. He'd hate to beguile her with hypnotism, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself to do the right thing when he did. so instead. "It's not that I don't want you, but.."