Who: Sophie and Luca What: A highly impromptu meeting. When: 2am Sunday morning, post-Luca's angsty killing. Where: Sophie's apartment in Hamartia. Warnings: Blood and some degree of sexual tension for the faint hearted.
The client’s wife came in from a dinner at three, so Sophie had made a quick exit that night. She walked home through the streets of Seattle as immaculate as how she had arrived in her long, beige dress, the only evidence of the night she had had below it, invisible to the outside world. She walked with pride, not taking her heels off despite the blisters. And there were bruises below the dress, purple and blue and painful; fair game as long as they payed extra. She winced a little as she climbed the winding stairs up to her floor in Hamartia, silently cursing the broken elevator.
She didn’t even fumble with the keys as she walked in, tossing her purse to one side and unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor as flimsy silk underwear became visible, one stocking ripped. That Sophie was not happy about, they had been expensive. She walked in one fluid movement to the bathroom, only a quick shower tonight because she needed to check if there was any more news about what had happened to Daryl, and maybe check up on the news, and then maybe take care of the bruising.
She left the shower and shrugged on a silky robe, but started for a second. There was unease in her mind; somehow or another she felt conscious of being watched, somehow. She walked carefully to the kitchen, taking care not to show too much concern, but glanced out towards the window for a second as she flipped the switch on the coffee machine. Why he had come here was beyond him, but the night was in tatters and solitude didn’t seem to be the answer. So he had perched on her fire escape, hyper vigilant with what he had done, still in his bird form. At the first sound of someone within the apartment, his attention had turned in that direction, watching from outside as Sophie skirted about her apartment, shedding the day and disappearing into the bathroom.
It was while she was in there that he changed form, his clothes, usually so immaculate, stained with what appeared to be (and was most definitely) blood. Waiting until she seemed less jumpy than before, Luca gave a rap to the window, two knuckles asking for entrance. The knock surprised her more than she had anticipated and she drew a sharp breath, making sure to turn slowly. Whoever it was didn’t need to know they had startled her, that wasn’t necessary. And as she turned, her face was deadpan, making it clear that she did not take kindly to people on her fire escape at two in the morning. She pulled the robe more tightly around her shoulders and looked up, only to frown as she stepped forward.
The first thing she noticed was the blood, Sophie wasn’t going to quarrel about that. It was obviously blood, and the man’s aura was troubling and unfamiliar and it was only looking up that told her it was Luca. It didn’t scare her, but it made her wary of why he was there. She stood at the window, not opening it, simply speaking through the thin, single glazing. "What do we have here?" She smirked, eyes slightly narrowed. "People typically use the front door for entry." "And since when have I ever been ‘typical’, Sophie?" Luca answered, crouched on the fire escape, the wind pulling at his mussed hair. He had one hand pressed to the pane of glass, those eyes of his incredibly intense, troubled. "If you’re not going to let me in, say so right now. I’m not in the mood for games and will go elsewhere if you’d rather." Pausing, he glanced off to the side, quiet for a long moment before he turned to look back towards her, visibly calmed, though it was a tenuous grip he had on it.
"Please. Let me in." There was something inside her telling her not to open the door, but Sophie had never been gifted with the sense to pay attention to this voice. The look in his eyes was something she didn’t often see, and the colours of his aura were confusing and some of it was very bright. "Sweetie, you can go where you please, but don’t accuse me of playing ‘games’ with you." Her arms folded in front of her chest, and she took a deep breath in for a second as he calmed down. Then she jerked a thumb at the door. "It doesn’t work. You’re climbing in. And you can leave through the damn front entrance."
She unlocked the window with ease, turning back to the coffee pot, assuming he was somehow making his way in. "Do you want some of this, or something stronger?" Luca closed his eyes as he listened to the click of the window being unlocked, waiting until she had turned her back before he pressed his hands against the glass and forced it upwards. Little time was wasted in climbing in and closing the window behind him, flipping the lock with two fingers before folding his arms across his chest, fingers tucked in beneath his arms. "Something stronger, if you have it," he replied in husky tones, staying where he was for a brief moment before he moved away, pacing, stalking a path through the apartment.
Restless energy clung to him, a frenzy that had not been eased by the bloodletting he had entertained himself with only hours before. There was a certain hunger that gnawed at him, unfulfilled, and he wondered what would sate it, if anything. She poured herself a cup of coffee, before staring at it, then at Luca, and promptly poured it down the sink. She had a feeling this was a night for liquor. She opened up one of the cupboards above the oven and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, taking a quick swig to test it, licking her lips thoughtfully. She then took two tumblers from the draining board on the sink and poured out two glasses. "Unless you’d prefer the bottle." She commented, holding out both to him. This was mockery, but she couldn’t quite help herself.
The colours, dark and bright at the same time, were starting to hurt her eyes, and she became irritable very quickly. "Will you calm down?" She couldn’t go for the glasses, that would seem far too much like weakness for her today, so she instead downed the whiskey and dealt with it through the healing power of alcohol. Luca abruptly stopped, turning to give her a look that was dark and stormy with emotion. "The glass is quite fine," he snapped. "But thanks for the offer." Sarcasm was threaded throughout his words, though they lacked any real humour. Closing the distance between them, he took the second glass and knocked it back quickly, enjoying the burn, the woody aftertaste that lingered on his senses. Setting the glass back down, he pushed it towards her. "Another. Please. And I’ll calm down once I’m too liquoured up to think, thank you very much." The look came with more pain to her eyes, and she poured him another without a word, the same dark look now in her eyes in retaliation. She could tell him why he needed to calm down, but Sophie wasn’t going to go and give out her weaknesses to a hired killer. She proceeded to pour herself another, appreciating the different kind of pain as it rolled down her throat.
"That I can help you with." She muttered, setting the bottle down herself and taking a breath in. She had to ask. "Luca, where did the blood come from?" He was never clumsy. He had never appeared in her apartment at 2am before. And she had certainly never seen him like this in all the time she had met him. She locked her gaze with his, that same dark look in her eyes, something unspoken but shown in the slightest grimace on her face. The second glass was taken with a murmur that might have been thanks, this one knocked back as quickly as the first, eyes squeezed shut against the burn, the fire left in its wake. Moments ticked by, silent and strained, and Luca said nothing, wondering if it had been a bad idea coming here. But the thought of returning to his apartment, luxurious as it was, sickened him at that moment.
"You don’t want to know where the blood came from, Sophie. Pretend I said it’s from a nosebleed and don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to hear the answer to." Sharp words and an even sharper look when she met his gaze, holding it and refusing to be the first to look away. He was wild this evening, more primal and strung tight than he had ever been. A predator who had made a mistake, who had deviated from what constituted his norm. He was rattled and tense. Approach with caution, dear Sophie. And he had annoyed her, and she couldn’t tell why. But she gripped his chin and pulled his face forwards, head tilted slightly in challenge. "Luca, sweetie, I think you’ve forgotten where you stand here. This is my apartment. This is my world." She spoke so quietly but with such a snarl behind her words, the venom was unmistakable. "You never tell me what to do." She let go of his chin but squared up to him, arms unfolded, a fellow predator who didn’t know how to quit.
"So tell me where the damn blood came from, or give me a reason to let you stay here and pace around my home." She finished, eyes now definitely dark, filled with an emotion which she wasn’t sure was dangerous or not. She would hit him, or she would scream, or she would laugh in his face. Or she would do something far worse for both of them, because a girl like her needed only so much provocation before she would attack with the only thing she had as a weapon. The man went absolutely stock-still when Sophie grabbed his chin, his jaw tensing, the tendons in his neck standing out with how he faced her. As he stared at her, met her gaze and accepted his words, some of the fire in his gaze seemed to lessen, though the intensity remained. When she released him, he turned away, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the fingers of one hand.
There was no answer for a long while, nothing but heavy breath and the screaming silence. "I messed up. That’s where the blood came from." He lifted his hands, looking at the black gloves he wore, stained with blood from the girl previously called April May. Peeling them off, he focused inwardly, folding them together with a quick flip of his hands. "Garbage? Please?" She listened, carefully, the same scowl in her eyes, but she bit down on her lip to stop it progressing across her entire face. She made sure to keep breathing, not to simply stop and shake with anger at what had just happened. He told her what to do. Nobody was allowed to do that. Not unless they paid her, not unless she got something out of it. And she wasn’t going to forget that, not least when he turned up to see her so late and expected something, although whatever it was was unclear. It was enough for her to kick him out of her apartment right now.
She didn’t move, but she made a brief motion with her head towards the trash can. "I’ll empty it tomorrow." She muttered, realising she was still tugging her robe tightly shut. She relaxed, letting it fall more open at her shoulders, still covering everything but in a way she was comfortable with. "Luca..." She wasn’t sure what to say, but her breathing was still heavy and irritated and she wasn’t sure what was the appropriate reaction to his messing up. She just stared at him, a question in her eyes, waiting for some kind of response. Moving towards the garbage can, Luca tossed the soiled gloves within, excusing himself towards the sink to scrub at his hands with the available soap. Shoulders were tense, hunched up towards his ears as he worked, finishing some time later and wiping his hands off on a paper towel pulled from the roll. "I killed someone out of frustration, Sophie. Out of anger. Personal anger. I killed someone that I wasn’t told to take care of. There was no job, no payment. Just me, myself, and I."
He turned towards her then, that darkness again in his eyes, lips pursed in a tight line that barely told of the emotions that ran thinly beneath his skin. "I fucked up. Are you glad you asked now?" There was biting sarcasm then, the words nearly spat out, though the anger was directed inwardly and not at her, though with how he behaved, the manic, jerky movements, it was hard to tell. Sophie stepped away from the kitchen counter then, observing him scrubbing manically, squinting at the brightness of his aura again. She listened, and the shaking anger turned into something else. And she smirked. And then, barely thinking about it, it turned into a laugh, a tiny, hoarse sound that got louder as soon as she became aware she was even doing it.
Through gritted teeth, she answered, something animalistic in her eyes as she stared at him, still sniggering to herself. There was weakness. She had something on him, she knew something, and now whatever he did didn’t matter because she always had this. "Yes. Yes, I think I am." She murmured, never taking her eyes off him. "And what do you plan on doing now?" The moment she laughed, the moment the situation turned, Luca cursed himself for saying what he had. Sophie was dangerous in her own right, and while they were acquaintances, perhaps even close to friends, they were both predators in their own right and he had just displayed a weakness in front of her. He let out a breath, closing his eyes, trying to calm the emotions racing through him at warp speed.
"I think I’m simply going to leave. And you ought to keep what I just said to yourself, Sophie." There was a threat in those words, thinly veiled with an air of charm. "I’d hate to make another mistake." All Sophie did was pick up the bottle of whisky and take another long swig from it, still laughing quietly to herself. "Oh, so you can threaten me now, Luca? After what you’ve just told me, you think you can expect me to keep quiet." There was one final laugh, probably in defiance, and she held out the bottle to him, and another glass. "You can’t guarantee anything from me, and you well know it." There was victory in her eyes, and she stepped forwards with the items in her hands again, grinning.
"So, sweetie." She hissed, hair in her face and the taste of liquor still in her mouth. "Why did you come here of all places afterwards? You can’t just walk away and pretend I didn’t hear." The gentleman bristled at her words, images of the prostitute he had killed flashing in his head, Sophie’s face over laid atop that of April May. He would never do anything to harm her, no, but the thought was tempting with how she flashed his weakness in front of him so blatantly. Growling, Luca reached out to take the bottle, forgoing the glass and imbibing directly from the vessel, fire burning and boiling down his throat.
"I came here because you’re one of the few I can pretend to trust. Though I’m starting to doubt that with the way you’re going on now." The idea of what he just told her, Sophie being trustworthy, was laughable in itself, but she was willing to let him believe it for now. And because of that, she softened, just the slightest of smirks on her face. "Believe what you want, Luca. I can tell you that I have nothing to gain by telling anyone at present, and I doubt that is likely to change. And I do quite enjoy your company." She tugged the bottle from his hand, drinking herself, letting the information he had given her settle in her head.
"Are you feeling any more calm now, sweetie? Or is that situation not able to be remedied with more alcohol?" She questioned wryly, setting the bottle down. “"And I enjoy yours." He released the bottle without fight, sitting down in the first available seat he could find, leaning forward until he was nearly doubled over, hands tangling in his hair. Her question about his level of calm made him bark out a laugh, shaking his head without looking up towards her.
"I feel ready to jump out of my skin, if you want the honest truth. Or go out and play again. Neither of which are the best options at this moment." She stepped slowly, carefully to reach his chair, crouching in front of him to speak. People tended to feel more comfortable when they were at the same level, and while his aura had calmed a little, it was still at a peak far higher than usual and she knew it was because he had become more distracted than anything.
"Your idea of ‘playing’ is far, far different to most." She muttered, smiling slightly. She thought, inhaling deeply for a second. She needed a cigarette. "Stay here if you must. I promise not to call the police on you in your sleep." If anything, that was due far more to the incriminating objects she kept in her house. Luca was silent, lifting his head until he could look at her, and then he simply leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together, his breath heady with the whiskey clinging to it. He knew that she was telling the truth, that she would not betray them; it was an unspoken respect they both held for one another that allowed him to believe her words.
"Thank you," he murmured quietly, closing his eyes with another exhale of air, shaking his head slightly back and forth. "It has been centuries since I have been this foolish, Sophie. You’d be disappointed in me if you knew the entire story." It took everything in her not to comfort him, but she knew it was undeserved. She was never comforted for things that she did, he didn’t need it either. He just needed to think. And to sleep. And with that, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, the best she could do for him there and then. "I thought you were trying not to do that?" She smiled, taking his hand to tug him to a standing position with her.
"You can share the bed." She motioned in the direction of the bedroom. "Just let me put some more clothes on." And she padded off to the bedroom without another word, making a mental note to check the papers the next morning. "Clearly, I’m not thinking very straight tonight." Luca lifted his head again, taking her hand without another words as they both rose to standing. The offer of sharing her bed took him by surprise, but he said nothing about it, watching as she padded off to the bedroom, standing in the hall in her wake.
Sighing, Luca tilted his head back to look up towards the ceiling, hands in his hair again as he pushed it back from his face, wondering when, exactly, he had become the sort of person to get so wrapped up in one person. Wren had been interesting, sure, but nothing that should have gotten him to this point. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been left rather than the one doing the leaving. Whatever it was, it was annoying, frustrating.
He pushed those feelings aside as he listened towards Sophie’s bedroom, giving her adequate time to change into something else before stepping into the bedroom, fingers unbuttoning the blood-stained shirt he still wore. Sophie changed into a long vest top and underwear, her nicer nightclothes reserved for overnight work stays. She turned to see Luca stood there only to confirm he wasn’t going to jump out of the window, and once she knew he was there she got under the covers and waited. She shrugged, settling down for sleep, saying one last thing before she pretended to doze off.
"Whatever you did, I’m certain it will be better in the morning."