Your place or mine? [[DEAD]]

Ring!

The door had knocked into the bell set up to show if someone entered or exited. Good security. But What would someone want to steal from an eccentric, albeit random, shop? Zack thought to himself as he entered Ver's Shops of commodities. The front desk was empty, but the curtain nearby the desk meant that the owner would be up soon. If nothing else, to protect her inventory. He began to peruse the shelves, seeing things from around the world. Small trinkets, porcelain dining materials, fabrics of all kinds, and even some feather pillows and blankets. You could probably fetch a fair price for some of this stuff, but it wasn't high enough quanity to make it worth the full casing. Zack continued, going towards the 'toys'(cards and crystal balls) and began to smell a faint perfume. It smelled familiar, but he just couldn't place it. He assumed that a female had now started to observe her place at the register. "How much....?" he began to ask, but before she could answer, he added, "For a night with you?" before finally turning towards the register. You could have heard a pin drop as every smooth-talking bone in his body froze.

Hazel-amber eyes met his, disdain, fury, familiarity, and a deadly calm coating the rims of pain and recollection. "Zackeus." The woman said, voice sharp, clipped, and holding the same astonishingly familiarity as her eyes betrayed.

Time had done her neither favor nor disservice, as she had not changed in the slightest from their last meeting. Hair the same curled mess as always, eyes hypnotic and soul-seeking, lips pursed and tight in the same old disapproval, she stood behind the counter with her arms folded and hip cocked out as she stared him down. From their last meeting to now, little had changed, even in her overall attire. Old bangles and necklaces had come to be replaced by newer ones, piercings had been clearly added in along her ears, and it was probably a safe bet that they had been added in elsewhere, as well.

Zack wanted to apologize, wanted to ask about how it went... How she presumably got out... She did get out, right? He'd never live it down if he got away by turning into a deck of cards and leaving her to get caught, and she didn't escape. He didn't have much choice! Who would he pass himself to? Trying to ship a deck of cards out of prison isn't the easiest thing to do... And nearly impossible if you are renowned or recognized. He wanted to say so many things that his mind basically locked down within itself. His heart wasn't in a perfect place either, old emotions sparked again, fear struck... He wanted to kiss her, run from her, and bend to her all at the same time.

Meanwhile, his body stood frozen as his mind whirled in it's own chaos. His eyes probably gave away more than he wanted, but he had already folded to her. In key with that metaphor, all four aces fell out of his sleeves onto the floor.

She did not remove her eyes from his own, knowing both instinctively and through sound what he had done, though not specifically. The crystalline orbs dotting across her counter began to swirl and darken, violent storms arising within the predictive depths. "Nothing to say?" She quipped, stepping around the counter with the same sashaying ease as ever, perhaps a little accentuated by the anger that made every step more deliberate. Ver reached down to grab the cards, long, delicate, fingers as tender and smooth as ever. "Nothing to say?"

Zack took a slow breath. "I'm sorry," he said softly, everything else in his mind failing to come to his lips. He could tell she was pissed and rightfully so. He should have helped, but... what could he have done? In the powerless situation, he did what he could for survival... Maybe not his best move. He thought about her before bed every night and she was the first thing every morning. He'd push those thoughts down and do what he always had, but he couldn't do it without feeling a little empty. He also could not have saved her, he would've only been walking into a trap. But... None of the logic, none of the reasons, none of the excuses made anything better. None of it would have made her feel better, and it didn't secure him either. "I'm sorry," he echoed. If she moved to strike him, it would not miss with how he felt.

Between the golden bands along her arms, old burns and scars could vaguely be seen, but they were fairly faint, far between, and would be nearly impossible for anyone to detect without acute observation. Her eyes held his steady, her tongue clicking behind her teeth, a sudden metallic ding resounding from it. Sorry was a cheap blow against slowly reopening wounds, sutures scraping across the inner workings of her soul and heartstrings. The pain in her eyes seemed to amplify, hidden only vaguely behind the haze of slowly forming tears.

Zack heard the click with the metallic clink behind it. She wasn't speaking words anymore, things were bad. But it had a positive spin too, it meant he couldn't make it worse. He could almost feel his jaw unlock. His eyes noticed the tears beginning but... reading if they were anger or sadness with her not wanting him to, was nearly impossible. "I wanted to save you, I couldn't. And there is no good words here, not good enough anyway. I do still have feelings for you, I didn't want you to be captured, but I couldn't let myself get captured either," he was rambling, he knew it, and if he was unstopped, he would keep letting loose. He had to get his mind out through his mouth... and he could bet he'd be tasting foot at some point.

Her hand shot up, clinking resounding as she pressed the longer three fingertips to his lips, pushing slightly. Her eyes had narrowed, the brown orbs becoming less visible as she watched him. "You need to walk with those." The tone was matter-of-fact but seemed to also hold the edge of an endearment, as though it was a phrase long over used between the two of them.

Zack paused, the warmth of her care washing over him. All his thoughts vanished as fast as they came. His right hand moved to hers, touching it, but not grasping it. Testing that it is real, and testing the waters between them. As his mouth stopped, his eyes spoke paragraphs, but it was paragraphs of one phrase, 'I love you,'.

It was the look that broke the floodgates, and though the anger had yet to go down in swelling, it was enough to shatter the forced wall that kept her control and mask in place. Lip falling between her teeth, a tremble shook her as a silent sob shot down her spine, the tears reforming and fighting at the edges of her vision for release. Speaking seemed foreign, but so, too, did the man before her that was also so very much a familiar aspect of her life, her past, and so much more that she had not expressed.

Zack's hand slid along her arm, then down her side, carefully, slowly. His left hand, went to her hip. Besides needing his cards back, he needed her back. Back in his arms, back in his life. And with the fingers gliding along her arm, he noticed the scars he caused by omission. His eyes gained a similar sheen to hers and then he pulled her hips, trying to hug her, hoping to God she just let him hold her. He longed to feel her curves beside his.

There was an instant resistance, but it gave way to the tugging, to the tears obviously forming in his eyes. Waving her hand, she sent the shop door flying closed, a twist of the wrist locking it. The marks on her arms were a long-forgotten memory, things she had shut out of her mind's eye to keep phantom pains and grudges at bay. It seemed almost as though she fell, with how suddenly and easily the tension gave way and she slid against him, his hands finding the same old sweet points that both calmed and excited her in the same fluid motion.

Zack felt a slight resistance, and for a brief moment, his heart was falling. Then she slipped into his arms, his hands gliding to their destination with muscle memory. He had dreamed of this before and could not believe his eyes, that this was real. He didn't notice the door closing, or the lock click into place. He only noticed Her. Her body back in his arms, her scent gently hanging in the air, the sound of her breathing, the light rise and fall of her chest against his, and her hands touching him once more. The world froze to him, and everything was as it should always be.

Face buried in the comfort of his shoulder, she found herself remaining there, the previous fury and lash at her tongue lost in the calm his touch brought her. Eyes lidded and tearful, she tried hard to keep silent, to not break or let the waterworks begin, to not let her angered fire reignite. Just one moment, just the moment...

Zack inhaled her scent, letting it fill his mind. He then kissed her neck softly, savoring her skin touching his lips. "You look wonderful, Angel," he whispered into her wavy hair. His eyes would show the second meaning of that statement, of which was a concern for her arms. But that's why he kept hold of her, his hands wandering over her lower back, gently dancing over her dress. He could easily recall all the times they had, as if those 4 years without her didn't exist.

The statement had her arms flinching away from him, if only slightly, if only for a moment, a quick jolt that could have easily been missed. That, of course, was assuming that he did not know her as well as they both know that he did, was not as familiar with her skin, her body, her reactions as he was. Still, a light sparked in her eyes, the barest petal of a blush painting her cheeks. "As you say, Ace..."

"God, that name is good to hear," he whispered, having missed that voice more than he could say. He felt the jump, but he knew it would be better to not point out those small things, or she would try to hide it in a different way and he'd rather not have to find her signs again. He pulled back a bit, using her hips to push her back slightly. He then pressed his lips to hers, his eyes closing as the connection was reestablished between weapon and meister. God, I missed you was all he could think, wanting to kiss her deeper, not with tongue, but to enjoy her mind, and her heart. The parts of her that were so rarely unmasked, but were possibly the most gorgeous thing about her.

The feeling of his hands on her hips was a full-on consumption of her senses, if only for the brief moment between that initial contact and the reunion of their lips. Fire shot from her belly, butterflies fluttering much like they had that first time, at least on the sober side of that spectrum. Her lids fluttered closed and gripped tightly together as she pressed forward, pouring her heart out to express the extent of her passion-stained emotions: fear, worry, anger, betrayal, sorrow, misery, pain, loss, love.

Zack's hands slipped down her lower back, tracing her curves to her upper thighs. His lips pressed back to hers, responding with his own regret, fear, sadness, loneliness without her, and reunited, brightly burning, Inferno of Love. Passion ripped through his veins as his lips began to open, reading hers for any hint of hesitation. His mind said to take it slow, but his heart had other plans... His heart had time to make up for, and planned on doing so. His heart was racing, his body screaming, and his clothes were seeming to tighten as all his muscles tensed. He was trying to hold back, but also trying to let go, an inner conflict that dared to rip him apart. He pulled at her left thigh, pulling her leg onto him, holding her weight in his hands. If her lips parted... He would let go. And there was a lot to let go.

She found herself pressing forward more heavily against him, leg hooking easily and habitually. Her pulse hammered in her eardrums, like the bass of a war drum, the thrum of passion and battle, love and war. Around them, the lights began to pulse and fall to flickering, snuffing out and leaving only the obscure lanterns hanging over the counter to illuminate the shop. Her hands shook, her usual confidence wavering as self-control and intellect battled with desire and instinct. Tears broke free of her eyes; let go, let go. It was a dare she dare not take, a challenge she dare not make, but a surrender that she gave herself to freely and easily. Amongst the heat and broken sighs escaping her, her lips parted slowly, and the dam broke.

And at that cue, he felt his fire burst forth. He pulled at her other thigh, straddling her body on his. Suspending her in the air, hinged to his body. His hands holding her upper thighs against him. It would be her responsibility to keep herself upright. His body filled in her every curve, his pants pressing to hers. His heart beating through his chest as their pulses made a rhythm, one that he could feel and could bet that she could too. His tongue ventured forth, exploring into her territory. It took it's time gently edging hers into their waltz. As she secured herself on his hips, his hands rotated to her protruding backside, holding her firmly. His eyes were closed, but he didn't have to open them to see her. He could easily recall her every nook and cranny, from the small of her back, to her hips and the skin curving into the edge of her ribs. He could feel her breasts heaving as their breathing became desperate, wanting to breathe each other in, more than the oxygen their lungs required. He felt something more at the tips of her peaks, more than her silk bra, more than the underwire she required... and his tongue felt tips of metal on her very familiar reflection. His heart skipped a beat as his eighth notes were beginning to line up with her quarters.

My God... This woman is gonna kill me... Mmm, please make it slow

A faint, high moan escaped past her lips, vibrating the studs in the fleshy appendage of her mouth. Her back arched, perked breasts and nipples pressing against him through the two thin veils of clothing that separated their chests. Hips moving despite her, their same old ancient, primal dance ignited and lit them both aflame, shooting pleasure and desire through their veins, ricocheting across every nerve ending. When her eyes fluttered open to meet his, the expression was heated and primal, the orbs glazed with passion and a raw, pure need.

Zack growled as the carnal desire tore through him, shredding any remains of his restraints. He began tugging her dress higher, pulling it to her hips. He released her lips from his care and met her neck with his lips. His teeth following shortly after. He tried to restrain from hurting her... in the painful sense anyway. But there was only so much he could do with his brain having left his heart to the reign. His body was merely the lips that spoke the words he had held back for so long. His body moved of it's own accord as he pressed her against the windows, not caring about anyone or anything else. The world had vanished to him, and he was just short of destroying their clothes into an unwearable state. His hands ventured below her, with her back pressed to the glass, helping to hold her. A faint zip could be heard as his stake that threatened to burn a witch felt a new device where there was none. This drove him further over the edge. His wrists pressing against her upper thighs, a slice could be heard as one finger shifted into a sharp card edge and cut through the materials separating at the waist. His teeth released her neck from their cage to move up to her ear, nibbling on the bottom of the lobe. This allowed her body to slip down his, pressing them closer, filling the missing gaps. His hand returned to his own as it grabbed at her, being able to enjoy it's placement more and more.

The moans the broke free of her lacked any sense of direction, control, or restraint, the volume escalating as the frenzy broke through the normal records of her heart's pace. Heat bloomed beneath her skin, sparking sweat to already begin to form at her chest, red to paint her cheeks, and abdomen down to her thighs. Her grip on him took hold of his hair, pulling it back as she arched, hips bucking of their own accord against him. Begging, crying, screaming for a release that he not only promised but completely, utterly, and thoroughly demanded of her. The tight hold she already had at his waist and hips seemed only to tighten as she drew herself forward, pleading, mind not functioning well enough to aid in delivering the command she knew he'd desire...

Zack gasped as he was pulled back, but not in pain. He loved sharing the control, especially with Her. He could see her blush, he could feel her heat, and if he'd had any sanity, it would have destroyed it. As it was, he was pure body and heart already. He heard her sighs and moans, her body was begging him to continue. And he never kept Her waiting. He drove her downward, just slightly, piercing her veil. He could feel her warmth and grip. Every bit of her slithered tightly around him, threatening to cut off all circulation, and he loved it. He wanted to speak, but words were unfit, he wanted to tell her he loved her, but even that was inadequate for this pure moment. He growled, the only thing he could do when at such a lack for words. In the rawest sense, they were becoming one. A meister and their reunited weapon. However, their connection was more than heart, more than soul, more than other partners. They were One. As he impaled her, all he could think, was...

Fuck Me!