Re: christmas lights log: mars & lear
Mars' little heart beat away quickly. It was faster than most. Thumpthumpthumpthump, and Lear could hear it as she approached the side of the car. He could hear the low-pressure coursing of her blood that her heart worked to thread through her. As far as nutritious meals went, she wasn't one. But, Lear didn't really give a fuck about any of that. He wasn't about to go into a blood frenzy, so Miss Little Red Riding Hood was safeāas safe as safe can be around a man who's really a monster, anyway.
She slid into the car and Lear looked over, brows lifted behind the shimmering veil of smoke. He smiled at her, just so, a serpentine curl of a smirk as she clenched her knees together, just like a good girl in mixed company should. Wasn't that sweet? Lear had an impulse to reach over, to slide ice-cold fingers between warming thighs and up, to see if he could pry her apart, by force or seduction. She'd give easily, he thought, once she finally unraveled.
But, he kept one loose hand on the steering wheel. The other was a curl of long fingers around the cigarette that eked coils of smoke into the small space between them.
This wasn't a romantic comedy, no. Lear was better suited to a horror movie. His smile, darker now that the girl had looked to him and asked for him to share. "Sure." He turned his hand, palm out of the way, so he could hold the cigarette for her to suck on, and he waited for her to lean across the console, for her to pucker red lips around the filter. His cold, dead gaze was sharp on her beneath the sheen of lowered lids and blond lashes. Lear kept his head back against the driver's seat, but his cheek was turned toward Mars, on the soft cusp of his shoulder. And he was patient in his cold bloodedness, waiting, waiting for Mars to dare to tip closer. She smelled like sugar and cherries from here, inches away, but beneath that was the human scent of skin, of sickness, of blood and churning guts. "Miss me?" He asked drolly.