Stryfe was sitting on his bed, staring idly out the window, one leg propped up while he carelessly tossed writing pens into the wall. They made good darts when thrown just right and the mirage of colorful ink left behind created amusing art on his wall. At the moment he was creating boobs with red ink pens. Perhaps he should just writing "devil's language" all over his walls to keep his mom from coming in.
Her lights flicked on, catching his attention. She knew he was watching, and he grinned as her little show began. Fluffing up his pillows he relaxed back on his headboard, hands folded beneath his head. He might as well be comfortable for the show. Her movements and dance were different, more fluid than any other girl he'd seen. Stryfe cocked an eyebrow in interest, watching her bend and move and show off each budding curve. Then the lights flicked out as she began her striptease. Ah, so still a bit virginal. She wasn't willing to let him see EVERYTHING just yet. Although she would. He grinned.
Her silhouette moved in the darkness, making her dance more of an art than a striptease. He found he preferred it that way. Too many girls so willingly gave themselves up with hardly any provocation. Where was the fun in that? Stryfe preferred an innocent little challenge.
And then she was gone, having given what she could, her attempt to one-up the score. What she didn't seem to count on was that her bathroom was equally in view as her bedroom. What she hadn't meant for him to see earlier he was seeing now as she stripped off the robe and climbed into the shower. "So that's how we're gonna play it?" he asked aloud. Well that wouldn't do. He wasn't about to be bested by a girl, especially a virginal little one.
With a leap, he was climbing on his windowsill, eyeing the distance from his window to hers. It wasn't so bad, but it would take some maneuvering to go straight through the window rather than just to leap on something. The demon within was already on the prowl, pushing Stryfe's adrenaline. Hunt, hunt, fuck, fuck, it was all the same to him. Pushing easily off the sill with his strong calves, Stryfe dove quickly through the air and grabbed the edge of her windowsill, his feet lightly landing on the siding of her house. He gave a quick glance around and then hoisted himself up and into her open window.
With his keen sense of hearing he could hear her humming to herself in the shower, her tone of voice pleased. He took a moment to glance around her room, stopping to play with a set of ballet slippers hanging off her desk. Moving on he picked up a photograph on her nightstand, one of her and her father hugging and smiling for the camera. So she was all peaches and cream.
He grinned, her voice in the shower as she began to sing catching his attention once more. Quickly he stripped himself of all clothes and silently crept into the bathroom, making sure the door shut with barely a sound behind him. She was facing away from him as he silently crawled back behind the shower curtain and into the shower with her. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms over his chest, a shit-eating grin on his face. "And two points for me," he growled out in his husky voice.