[Now may not be the best time to be hit by the half-held memory of dating a werewolf - a surly, aggressive blonde. It had been (he thinks) very casual. A very long time ago. As for tall, dark and brooding?]
He really wasn't my type.
[His shirt is half discarded already, his belt a work of moments.]
Although we might have to hang out more, if this is the reception...
[She turns and takes her own soap - this one with a very light scent, because if she's not hunting, she needs to fake it - and gets up a nice lather, and moves her hands on her skin, starting at her wrists then up]
You could get clean and then just fuck me, and we'll both be happy.
She's not a child. Eventually she has to figure out that I'm not just a cheap alternate to an electric blanket.
[some irony, as it's chilly out of the water. His hands traces over the lines of her body and (for warmth) lift her against him. One set of wet footprints are better than two.
And it's nice, sometimes, to be the one doing the carrying.]
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His scent is all over you. Not strong. Just there.
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Wait - all over him?]
We didn't do anything. Someone turned me back before I could run straight into the insane clown posse. Not the worst werewolf I've met.
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She hates werewolves.]
It's a good thing he didn't touch you.
[She's naked, here. And she's going for hist shirt]
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He really wasn't my type.
[His shirt is half discarded already, his belt a work of moments.]
Although we might have to hang out more, if this is the reception...
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He smells strong. It's all over the woods.
[Her hands go to take his pants off, too]
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[And he makes it only slightly more difficult by catching his hands around her bare hips and testing how close she'll come.]
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Maybe. But they don't go near you.
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[Boxers, Saya. It's not the most graceful removal ever.]
Anyone would think you were jealous.
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[An admission of hate is as rare as an admission of love around here.]
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[She has told him that, about the animosity (understatement) there.]
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[And she's under the spray of water, soaked in an instant.]
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Nothing happened. He didn't come near me.
[Because it's just clicked what 'he didn't touch you' could have meant.
He moves under the spray, tipping his head back and shaking the water from his hair before looking across at her from under matted blond.]
Do I smell better yet?
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Yes.
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Tease.
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You could get clean and then just fuck me, and we'll both be happy.
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Or, you could get the shower gel in my bathroom. I'd smell more like myself.
[How this is possible, don't ask.]
And then you could smell like me for a while, too.
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We'll track water all over the warehouse.
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Water dries.
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[Because you know, Rosella would be scandalized.]
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How much of an idea do you think she has?
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[She's lets him move her, her fingers curling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck]
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[some irony, as it's chilly out of the water. His hands traces over the lines of her body and (for warmth) lift her against him. One set of wet footprints are better than two.
And it's nice, sometimes, to be the one doing the carrying.]
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She can't even bring herself up to say virginity.
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I can't believe you've lived together this long.
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She's a good roommate, and no one thinks badly of someone who can live with her.
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