fixeswatches | (no subject)

(no subject)

Gabriel reluctantly got out of bed, making his way over to his closet. He pulled out a suit and began to change into it. Paris was gone now and they were left with the reality of the cold cell room. Definitely a disappointment. He would have liked to spend all day in bed with her (at least the second time had gone better for both of them) but they had both agreed that if they stayed in his room for too long, Angela and Noah would become suspicious.

And neither one of them wanted that.

Especially when Candice's dead corpse was still on the floor in a fat, bloody mess.

He pulled on his coat before he began to work on fixing his tie. "So what are we doing next?" He asked curiously.

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"It did," He muttered in response, leaning down to brush his bloody lips against hers. He didn't feel angry at her anymore, not really. Instead, he felt closer to her then ever.

She hissed at the pain, and darted her tongue out to playfully lick his open lower lip. "There might be cameras in this hallway, you know," she giggled softly. Not that she cared, particularly. The only thing that mattered was him. Them. Together.

"It's a little too late to be worried about that," He laughed softly, delighting in the stinging pain of her tongue brushing against his marred lip. "But we probably shouldn't linger here for too long."

"We don't want to scandalize Angela," she retorted, her amusement laced with traces of menace. She did, even if she wasn't as angry anymore. Gabriel had fixed that, giving her an outlet, even though she hadn't been that angry at him to begin with. Well, maybe a little. For depending on Angela. But they didn't need her anymore, so it was okay.

"Of course not," He agreed in his own sardonic tone. "Besides, we need to get you another shirt to wear." He gave a pointed look at the shredded remains of the camisole she had been wearing before.

"That's easy," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pulled herself up, gently kissing the corner of his smile. "You better give me yours now, though."

"Probably best," He mused, picking up his shirt and handing it to her. "We wouldn't want you to give the rest of the place a free show or something like that."

Elle grinned and dragged it over her bare chest. "If we haven't already," she said in a sing-song.

"My body was obscuring anyone from getting a good look at yours," He replied confidently, pulling up his boxers and pants now, carefully tucking himself back in.

"If you think so," she continued teasingly. With a smirk, she moved and shifted the fabric over her tummy and down her thighs as he covered up, her body posture coy but her expression anything but. "Can you get me my clothes?" she asked sweetly, looking over his shoulder at her meager pile of jeans and panties.

He rolled his eyes as he finished doing up his pants. "You're perfectly capable of getting them yourself, Elle."

"You're in my way and I'm very naked," she said patiently with a staying smile. She clutched his shirt to her chest and gingerly sat up, sliding back with a slight wince as her thighs closed and her hips bent.

"Fine." He sighed and brought his hand up, using his telekensis to summon the clothes over to him before handing them to Elle.

"Thank you," she quipped, carefully pulling on the shirt. She'd torn most of the buttons off, but there was enough to cover her chest more or less, at least. Elle stood on tired legs, ignoring the tightness and ache of her muscles as she pulled her panties on, and then her jeans. Only as she slipped into her heels--she wished she had sneakers--did she bother to flip up the shirttails, her eyes falling on the bruises reaching down past the hem of her pants.

Maybe not against the floor next time.

He had rather enjoyed it against the floor, but then again he wasn't the one bruised up like she was. As it was, his dark eyes couldn't help but admire the marks left on her body. He felt proud of them. Just more proof of who she belonged to, after all.

"So we'll get you another shirt to put on, and then you can take me to your friend Adam."

It was kind of exciting, the idea of getting to see her room.

Elle pouted a little and looked up at him. It's not that she hadn't enjoyed it. She had, a lot. Even too much. She kind of liked the bruises too, even if they hurt. Her fingers stroked her sensitive hips bones, and maybe she smiled a little at the small bites on his shoulder and neck, the blotchy redness of his skin from where she'd burnt him.

Maybe at any other moment she'd be worried and horrified at how beat up she must look, but she wasn't. Not at the moment. No, her pouting was over something else.

"I gonna take a shower too," she whined. "I'm all full of your... stuff."

He chuckled softly as she mentioned that. To be honest, he hadn't given it much thought, but it made sense that after three times, she'd be a little uncomfortable. "I guess you are." He paused for a moment before taking a step closer to her with a playful smirk. "We could probably both use a shower, clean up, wash off all the dried blood."

Her lips turned up into a little smile, and she reached up to brush her thumb under his bruised, seeping lip, carefully and slowly leaning her hips forward into him. "You do look like a vampire," she teased.

"You kind of look like one yourself," He teased, hissing lightly as she touched his marred lip. They had both done a number one one another, but he couldn't quite get himself to care.

She giggled softly and pushed herself up a little to kiss it better with a content sigh, cupping his jaw. Even if maybe it only made it sting a little bit more. "Let's go," she murmured, pulling back and grabbing his hand, reaching down to scoop up her torn top before leading him back down the hall.

He grinned and squeezed her hand as she led him down the hall toward her bedroom.

Every step was maybe a little uncomfortable, but Elle got through it. She dug for her clearance card in her back pocket, pulling it out to swipe once they got to where she and her Daddy slept, and then dragged Gabriel into the little hallway and swiped again to enter the living room. It was decently sized, although furnished expensively, and Elle carelessly dropped her ruined shirt on the couch and pulled Gabriel into her bedroom.

Gabriel's eyes looked around the quarters in an impressed fashion while he followed Elle back into her bedroom. He pouted a little. "My room looks a lot worse after seeing this." If he was so special, why couldn't Angela at least put him in a room as nice as this one?

Elle smiled and shrugged a little, kicking her shoes off with a relieved sigh. "I told you. You're just a little better than a prisoner," she reminded him, reaching for the button of her jeans. Her room was bigger. Her bed was huge, and she had a fuzzy, comfy carpet. It was her room. Gabriel had a cell.

"So you said," He muttered as he began to undo his own pants. His eyes continued to survey the area carefully, taking it in. Really, other than his cell, he hadn't seen much except Angela's office. Everything seemed new and fresh and he couldn't help but begin to really think maybe Elle was right.

He didn't like that thought.