an easy mark

who: Dorian and Medea
where: Nevermore
when: after school
NSFW

Dorian had spent most of the day working on Dean's question, and doing his best to dig up information about fades. The long and short of it was that there was barely any information at all out there. This didn't surprise Dorian though. It was taboo magic, the type that one could be tried under regular laws for. Murder was murder, no matter what the end result was.

He'd even put in a phone call to a young priest he'd met in Rome during his most recent European jaunt. The priest served at an old church and he'd met Dorian in a bar near the church itself that he was prone to frequenting. The two had gotten along swimingly, despite the irony of the situation, having a mutual interest in the supernatural although the priest's was mostly based in fantasy. Apparently the church had a collection of rare books, well sealed and cared for in a rennovated wing of the church. The books were mostly those confiscated due to being against the teachings of the church, but of course the church had hung on to them for safe keeping. He'd seen the topic mentioned in a few of the tomes, although he wasn't sure how specific and had agreed to dig deeper for Dorian.

The priest wasn't willing to send the books themselves, but he was willing to email Dorian some digital photos of the pages if he found anything, hopefully that would suffice. It would have to do because it was the closest he'd come to having any luck so far. He wished the priest a good evening and hung up the phone.

Medea had had a whole lot on her mind as the day wore on, and she was actually still recovering from her ordeal. Or, she supposed, their collective ordeal, but still. It sometimes sucked beyond the telling to be as physically weak as she was. It just didn't help. It meant she still had bruises where she'd fallen asleep on hard, ungiving surfaces and it hadn't been good for her frame. It was for that reason that she hadn't brought her backpack to work with her after school. The bite of the straps on her shoulders was one she wasn't happy to bear today.

Walking into the shop, she tugged her hat off, letting her hair spring free. It was a little messy and flyaway, the dark waves frizzing a bit as she tugged a lose hairtie she'd had around her wrist free and she pulled it back into a sloppy bun. She worked in a book shop, she could rock the librarian look. Then she took off her coat, and started into the store proper, stopping a moment as she noticed the guy behind the counter wasn't the guy that usually was behind the counter, and that was throwing her off. "Um...hello?" she said, walking up and giving a purposely sweet if hesitant smile.

"Hi," Dorian answered, not looking up right away and still scribbling in the log book notes from his phone call. "I'll be with you in a second." When he was done he looked up. "Oh Medea, sorry, thought you might be a customer or something." Dorian knew who she was, he'd looked over her application when she was hired, and also her name was on the schedule to work this afternoon. "How was your day?"

She blinked, his familiarity triggering her own recognition, and she smiled. "Mr. Lockwood?" she asked, sounding excited. "Hi! I haven't seen you in forever! How was your...sabbatical?" she asked, wording it a little hesitantly. Mostly it was because he'd fucked off without a word. "My day's been alright, I suppose. Considering." she said, waving it off like it wasn't important as she leveled her focus on him. She walked up to the counter and leaned on the opposite side of it, eyes fully on him. "When did you get back? Have I been keeping the store ship-shape enough?" she asked with a pleasant tease, since she was hardly the only person who worked there.

Dorian flinched when she asked about his time away. Since the breakdown he'd had a terrbile time at hiding those sort of reactions. "It was fine, didn't last as long as I expected and I'm back now. Actually I'm crashing here, house got burned down before I left." Actually the house burning to the ground had been the last straw before he cracked and hit the road without looking back. "Considering?" he asked as she crossed the space between them. "I was wondering who'd kept the order around here." He gave her a smile but he also stepped back a little. There was something different about the way she was looking at him and instantly he was aware of the age difference between them. "It's Dorian, you don't have to call me Mr. Lockwood."

She noticed the reaction but didn't make any overt show of noticing. She just noted it down, filed it away. "Oh god I'm so sorry!! I didn't know about your house!" she said, looking the picture of concern. "Are you okay? No one was hurt, I hope?" she continued. "And you're here? Goodness! There's got to be someplace else you can stay!" She hoped so, since she would now have to find a different place for she and Porter to get alone time. She skipped over explaining what 'considering' meant, wanting him to have to ask twice if he really cared to know. "And Dorian...alright." she said, giving something akin to a shyish little smile. He was cute, really, for an older man. She'd be eighteen soon. Laying a little groundwork wouldn't hurt anything.

"No one was hurt, just lost all our stuff," Dorian reassured the girl, who was starting to make him nervous. "And living here is just temporary. For now at least. I'm sure I'll find someplace soon enough." He gave her a smile but it somewhat showed how awkward he felt. Apparently he had issues with talking to women of any age. "You didn't answer the question, considering what?" If he could turn the topic of conversation from himself she might stop looking at him so intently. Plus he was curious if she'd been through the same ordeal as his brother.

Medea noticed and internally laughed a bit at Dorian's awkwardness. It was amusing, and it would most definitely be fun to play with. She knew just how to ride the line between making something seem like something else. Which meant she should be able to pull off light overtones, and play them off as innocence. "We should look in the paper, see what apartments are out there." she told him, like it was a project they could work on. "And..." she looked away, wincing faintly, before she looked back but she made sure not to quite meet his gaze. "There was this field trip at school...you probably heard about it on the news..." she trailed off, looking away again.

We? That sounded half a step from her trying to pick out a place together. Dorian blanched a little, but shook it off. She was just being helpful and nice. That was why she got the job in the first place. "Yea, that's a good idea." It was all he could muster. When she mentioned the trip though his ears perked up. "Not on the news no, but from my brother. He was on the trip too. Caleb?" Worry creased across Dorian's face, both because of mention of his brother and because of meeting yet another teen who'd been drug into that mess. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Caleb? Oh...yes, he knows my sister." Medea said. Actually she'd paid pretty close attention to Caleb, considering the firepower that boy was packing, but she made no show of it. She brushed it off like he was more just a name she knew. She also moved away, walking towards the window so she could lean against the all and gaze out it, still 'avoiding' his eyes. She knew the mental imagery she'd present would help out the impression she wanted to give. Like she felt isolated and scarred, alone and traumatized. "It's not your fault." she told him. Then she glanced back, and gave a very weak smile that she let drop right away. "Sorry, it was...a girl died. They say she's just missing, but we all know."

"He does?" Dorian knew even less about his brother than he thought. That was just ridiculous. When she moved he only half noticed because he was busy mentally beating himself up for not being there for his younger sibling. The sound of Medea's voice drew his attention back to her and Dorian was caught off guard by how hurt the girl seemed. Before he could stop himself he'd come around the corner of the counter, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Sure it's not my fault, but I imagine that was terrible to go through. Something someone your age shouldn't have to live through." He paused briefly, registering that he was touching her, but it was too late to pull away now. "Did you know the girl well?"

She appeared as if she was surprised he was suddenly there, even if she'd been very aware of his proximity to her since she'd moved. But it had worked--she'd gotten him to go to her, and hey, he'd even touched her. She considered that a minor victory, even if she didn't show it. She smiled, another pale expression. She definitely didn't pull away or anything. "I didn't know her well. We met a few times, she was more friends with my sister. She was the sort to hang out with cheerleaders, that's not...quite my scene. Still, though. I remember how she looked. She was so scared--we all were. I mean, there were--" she broke off, looking away again. "Our teachers were killed. There was blood everywhere. I didn't know there was that much blood. Like you see that sort of thing in the movies, and you think it's all just fake and nothing could ever look that bad, right? But that's not true. There were...sprays on the wall. I slipped in the blood. I was the first one out into the hall, there was this...this creature. Someone said it was werewolves, but Mr---" she stopped herself. "Dorian--" she corrected. "It wasn't. That was a monster."

Dorian couldn't help it, her story got to him and he felt the anger bubble through him. He hated Caleb being in the situation, but he knew full well his brother could handle himself. Someone like Medea, who seemed so young and small, that was just wrong. What had happened that the school would let the kids just walk into something like that? Dorian's hand that wasn't on Medea clenched into a fist in anger that wasn't directed at anyone in particular. "It was a demon actually," he told her, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, but not doing a good job. He took a few quick breaths to calm himself. Ducking his head a little to meet her eyes, he gave her a small smile. "I'm truly sorry Medea, if you need anything or you want to talk about it, just let me know ok?" This poor girl had seen something that would probably scar her for life and Dorian felt infinitely helpless.

Taking note of the fist thing, she thought that was interesting. Interesting and quite the good thing, really. If she could get him to be protective, to be angry on her behalf...well, that was quite the start. "It's..." she gave that attempt at a smile again, and let it last a fraction longer than before. "I appreciate that." she said. "It was a demon? That...makes sense I suppose, even if I don't feel any better for knowing it. I've been reading things here, but it's different, being faced with it." she said. "A lot of us didn't know what to do. Some did. Um...Caleb?" she asked, as if she wasn't positive of the name even if she was. "He seemed to sort of...know what he was doing, I suppose. As much as one could. I know he tried protecting people. But there were a few of them. They kept attacking, too, like they just wouldn't stop. Over and over, and so no one could sleep, no one could rest..." she shook her head.

"Caleb's got innate survival skills," Dorian said, not wanting to give away too much about his brother, but still needing to explain somehow. He'd settled on the Caleb topic anyway because it seemed liked the safest territory. "Blame it on having two older brothers I guess." Dorian gave her a half smile, letting her know he'd tried his hand at a joke even if the delivery wasn't great. Finally letting go of her, he moved back putting some space between them. There was probably more he should say but Dorian had no idea what it was.

She gave a light laugh at his attempt at a joke. "Well...when you see him, tell him a lot of us are grateful." Medea said. And technically, she was. Mostly she was just playing it up because it meant there was a more intimate connection there she could play, some inside track that would be perceived. "I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to go on about everything." she said, as if she'd forgotten that he'd asked. "It was just a lot and I guess I'm still dealing. Not spectacularly well though, huh?" she asked.

Dorian smiled at the comment about Caleb. "I'll let him know," he told her, tucking the comment away. Caleb would probably try and shrug it off, but Dorian still felt like it was something he should hear. "It's completely okay that you're talking about it. And to be honest, you're handling it a lot better than most would. You're still standing." And you're still alive, Dorian thought.

"I guess it's...well it's kind of been a little like walking through a dream. Everything was so messed up, and so real, and then people showed up to 'save' us," she made the air quotes "and no one's even asking us what happened, really. And I heard some rumor that they were blaming werewolves and I don't know. The kids at school are staring. Whispering a lot. So it's either have a crippling breakdown...which I wasn't thinking was my best option, or try my best to move forward."

He'd told Caleb they would try to cover it up, but rolling it into the werewolf stuff seemed almost brilliant, not the right thing to do but brilliant nonetheless. "Some people don't get that option. Most really just can't avoid that breakdown, it just consumes them and all they can focus on is living through it and hoping the other side of it is better." Dorian was speaking from experience, and it was hard to keep the knowledgeable look off his face. Not that he cared to, it was part of who he was and where he'd come from. "Moving forward is good, provided you're still dealing with it. Just burying it is dangerous."

"I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'd like to think I'm dealing with it, processing it, but...I guess you never really know until it rears back up in the back of your mind, right?" Medea suggested. She caught the tone he used, the look on his face and filed that away. Perhaps the 'vacation' was something else, or he'd had a rough childhood. Damage was always a way to get in, though. "I've been having trouble sleeping, since. I don't know what to do about that." She gave a purposely awkward half smile. "Got any remedies for that?"

Dorian opened his mouth to answer but then realized every response he had was wildly inappropriate to say to a girl, let alone a barely if at all legal high school girl. Instead he just tried to turn the drop jaw into an awkward smile, wracking his brain for a non-pedophilia laced comment. "Uh, well typically alcohol, but since you're underage," like seriously underage, Dorian, "then I'm not sure. Maybe just exhaustion will help? Making sure you try and wear yourself out throughout the day?"

Medea tilted her head to the side a slight bit as she regarded him. "What were you going to say?" she asked, curious. "Unless I'm paranoid, it just looked like you were about to say something and changed your mind. And alcohol, legal or not, doesn't agree with me very well." she said, making a little face. "No chemicals really do. I'm pretty sure if I ever tried any serious street drugs they'd kill me outright."

An embarrassed smile flashed across Dorian's face when she asked. "Um, how about we just leave it as something I shouldn't have been thinking and definitely shouldn't say out loud ok?" He shifted again, a little uncomfortable again hoping she wouldn't ask more. "Technically street drugs would kill most outright, it just takes time, but why do you figure?"

Medea laughed a little, a sweet sort of sound. "You're kind of cute when you look all flustered." she told him, her tone suggesting the comment was offhand, and she didn't consider it inappropriate. Then she moved on immediately as well, just so he couldn't protest it or anything. "No, I mean outright, as in it gets into my system, and I'm being pronounced dead on arrival fifteen minutes later." she said, thinking he'd misunderstood the word 'outright'. "And I've always had sort of a weak constitution. Pretty much any drugs sort of knock me for bad loops. I don't usually take anything, period." she told him. She walked over, and then tugged the shoulder of her loose fitting shirt down, to reveal her shoulder. There was a dark line of a bruise there. "That's just from carrying my bookbag." she told him. "I was born with...let's call them 'issues' and call it good."

She thought he was what? Dorian didn't have a chance to focus on the thought because she moved on and his curiosity was piqued. "So sort of an allergy? Are you allergic to anything else?" he asked but then sort of lost the ability to speak when she moved closer and pulled her shirt away. Unable to stop himself he reached out, afraid to touch her to hard, but still slightly running a thumb over the bruise. Dorian knew there was something else about Medea, he sensed that when he met her the first time, but her body's weakness were interesting and he wasn't sure what they meant about what she was.

Medea didn't stop him from doing it. It was partially why she'd done it in the first place, to see what he'd do, see if he'd take the chance and touch her. Which he did, and it also gave her a read on his emotional state. He was curious, so that was something she could work with. "Generally speaking, I just don't seem to be able to take much of anything." she said, tilting her head to the side slightly so he had whatever access he wanted. "Physical injury, anything in my system that isn't meant to be there. The closest I've gotten to a proper description is what I said before. Just a 'weak constitution'. No one's been able to explain it to me, unfortunately. They did tons of tests when I was a little girl, but no one ever found anything, and I was so tired of tests I stopped."

"Yea?" he asked already thinking of a book that might have an answer to her question, but he held back from grabbing it and instead inspected her neck line a little more. It was definitely intriguing the way her the bruise sprawled across her skin. He got so lost in it, he'd lingered to long that close to her skin. "I should," he dropped his hand from her shoulder, trying to awkwardly step back but without seeming like he really wanted to dash across the room. "I'm sorry. I think."

Medea raised her eyebrows as she regarded him, reaching up only after a few long moments to right her shirt. She'd of course noticed that he seemed a little lost there, which was good. Interesting. Definitely something she could continue to play. "You should...think you lost me." she said, laughing a slightly self-depricating laugh. "I guess there are a lot of categories that I fall into, but none that I actually seem to have. Like..." she paused, then reached back and pulled her hair back, away from her neck and she put her back to him. "If you look up near my hairline, you'll see a scar? It's where another girl pulled my hair and instead of my hair giving, the skin did."

"I think I lost myself," he mumbled, breathing for the first time when she finally looked away and turned her back to him. That was until she lifted her hair up and he was losing it all over again. Dorian's curiosity was going to get him arrested, but he leaned in again, spotting the scar and raising a hand to touch it. This time though he pulled away after just briefly running his hands over the scar. "It just pulled back like that?"

Considering Dorian's emotional state was drifting a little towards the sexual, or that was what Medea was getting from him (even if he was fighting it), she let her breath hitch just the tiniest bit. Almost imperceptible, almost missable, but not quite. She also held her breath for just a moment, like he might be having an effect on her, even if she wasn't acting on it. She looked back over her shoulder at him when she spoke. "It tore. It's happened a few times since. It's why I don't participate in sports or anything." she confided.

He caught that, the tiny gasp at his touch. Terrified he yanked his hand away, clenching it into a fist. This was getting a ridiculous. She was going to think he was coming on to her. Shit, when was the last time he'd even come on to someone. Too damn long Dorian a little voice in his head said. Awesome. He was so desperate he was accidentally hitting on someone Caleb's age. "That's a logical decision," he told her but his voice was still wavering some. At least the idea of patches of her skin coming off was interesting. That was somewhere, he'd read about it before. Part of him was itching to start pouring through texts finding out what she was, but that was just rude wasn't it? Shit, he was a damn mess. Not sure what else to do he just ran his hands through his hair.

She smiled just a little, a quirked, lightly amused sort of expression. "Yes, I thought so." she said, turning a little more towards him as she let her hair fall back again. 'Uncomfortable' seemed to be coming off of him in waves, even if she wasn't in physical contact. Interesting. And he hadn't moved back, and she vaguely wondered how long it would take him to do so. And possibly how long it had been since he'd actually spent time with a female. "Are you okay?" she asked, tone suggesting she was innocent, and hadn't at all construde anything he'd done as inappropriate.

"Fantastic," he told her, faking a smile because in actuality he was anything but. "I was just thinking about you know, your condition. It's interesting." Dorian realized instantly that wasn't exactly polite either and jumped to correct himself. "Terrible of course, but just um...fuck."

That had Medea giving a light little laugh, and she reached out to put her hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it." she said, tone reassuring. She looked amused as she looked up at him. "I know what you mean. It is interesting in an objective sort of manner. It's odd. It's kind of weird just to know it exists. I'm not offended." she said, then removed her hand, and walked a little ways away, to lean against the counter, turning back to level her gaze on him. She leaned just enough, so that she should make a nice little image for him. "I mean, I feel the same way reading about different kinds of mental illnesses. I want to be a therapist when I get to college, so I know about having the ability to look at something and detach what horror might be involved, to look at the thing itself."

Dorian tried hard not to look panicked when she touched his arm. Jesus, did she think he was hitting on her? Was she hitting on him? That was just terrifying. And exciting. He was going to hell. "That's really neat, about wanting to be a therapist. I bet you'd be great at it," he told her trying hard not to look at her too much, even though it was hard not to.

She smiled, looking delighted. "Aww, thank you!" she said. "I hope so. I really want to help people. I always have, and I've been studying up on psychology for years now, getting any college sources I could. So much going on with people could be worked out if they just let someone help them. So much people try to shoulder themselves, and they're so far inside their own heads that they don't see obvious things in front of them. Or they can't look at something from a different angle without someone there to help shine a light on that perspective. Honestly, there's so much that could be relatively painless to work at, people just need the right guidance."

Dorian nodded, returning her smile. It was a small breath of fresh air to see her interested in something that wasn't him. Psychology wasn't really his cup of tea, but he knew how it felt to be really caught up in something. "That's really great that you've found something you're so interested in. Especially at such a young age." A young, young age.

Medea pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, and she crossed her legs, leaning back a little on her arms. Again, something that was meant to keep whatever imagery might have gone through Dorian's head firmly in mind. She wanted to spark up some rich fantasies. "I'm not that young." she said, laughing. "I'm almost eighteen, and if I can get myself into advanced courses to NMU I will." she continued. "I suppose I've always been a girl who knows what she's doing. I know a lot of the people around me are rather..." she paused as if she needed to come up with a word even if she already had it. "Childish." she said. "Like they have no idea what they're doing or where they're going and half of them don't even have a strong sense of identity." She quirked a faint half smirk. "I don't always get along perfectly with my classmates." she confided.

Whatever she was going for was working. She didn't need to be planting subtle imagery of her being available and legal for the ideas to dance through his head and not a single one of them something he should be thinking. Luckily he was normally too anxious around women and even worse off since the breakdown or he might have found himself at the counter near her. "I had a similar problem when I was your age," he told her, putting an emphasis on that age difference between them that she seemed determined to make him forget. "Mostly it was 'cause I was smarter than most of the kids around me and I was more interested in studying supernatural things." Of course she thought her classmates were childish, she certainly wouldn't be sitting on the counter that way if she didn't.

"C'mon, you're not that much older than me." Medea said. "Don't talk like you're middle aged or anything. I can imagine you being like that, though." she said, leaning forward and letting her hair fall down over one shoulder. "I bet you were smarter than all the rest of them. Bet they made you roll your eyes a lot with all the stupidity they indulged in all the time. Bet you were above it." she observed, subtly stroking his ego, even if it wasn't in any overt sort of way. She was just trying to give him the impression that she was impressed by him and that they had things in common.

"I am closer to middle age than you'd imagine," he told her and failed at keeping the teasing tone out of his voice. He flushed a little bit when she commented on his intelligence. He couldn't resist it, her commenting on how smart he was. That had always been his thing, although it kept him in the shadow of his brother, it was still his thing. "I wouldn't go that far. I mean yea, but I was still a dork." This time he did move closer, not close enough to touch her but closer.

Medea shook her head, smirking. "Dorian, you're not even thirty." she said. "And if you are, you are a damn young looking thirty." she told him. "But somehow I doubt that entirely. And c'mon! There's nothing wrong with being a dork." she said, shaking her head. "I mean, I'm a theater geek." she told him. "I'm that weird girl who's reading--" she mock gasped, letting her fingertips light on her chest as she did so, to draw his eye there "--books that aren't for class! I write things down that aren't school related!" She paused and leaned closer to him, letting her voice drop low. "I might even occasionally have thoughts of my own. I'm pretty sure you had them too." she said, giving a momentary flash of an impish grin before she sat straight again. "Nothing wrong with being a dork. All that means is you weren't a sheep."

"Twenty-five is getting close to thirty," he reminded her but grinned anyway. He couldn't help it. Especially when she leaned in a little like that. It was difficult to hear what she was saying; it really had been that long. "I knew I'd hired you for a reason," he told her with a small wink.

"Psh! Twenty five is barely out of highschool." she told him, and she effected a posture and expression that said she liked the wink, and was flattered and possibly a little pleasantly flustered by it. She looked at him through her eyelashes, head ducked a little. "Must have. You like people with original thoughts too, not mindless automotons. Knew there was something I'd liked about you." she said in return.

"Try barely out of college," he corrected, but hadn't lost the tease in his voice. His blood ran hot though when she looked at him like that and of course another rush of inappropriate thoughts followed it. He was going to have to go take a cold shower after this conversation. "Well I'm sure it's not just that right?" The question was out before he could stop it. Now he'd crossed that line hadn't he?

She kept the smile she'd had, and it was most certainly a flirty sort of expression. She leaned that little bit closer to him again. "I don't know. You tell me." she said, taking what he'd put out there, and putting it back in his court, just with a little more direction. He certainly seemed to be eating every bit of this up, it was an easy mark, as far as that went. Which was interesting, really. She was curious how far she could push things.

Dorian laughed awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair, dropping his gaze from hers. "I'm not sure really. Just another old boring dork who owns a bookstore." He was really pushing the limits was he? And worse, he was enjoying it. Still uncomfortable he moved around behind the counter, behind her back. Maybe putting the counter between them would help him get back under control. Granted that was ignoring the fact that she was currently on the counter.

Medea gasped, laughing a little. "Boring?" she asked incredulously. And, because he'd moved, she shifted, sitting sideways on the counter, curling her leg beneath herself as she looked at him. "Please. You're not boring. And it's not even a boring bookshop to the most uneducated of them all. This is a place full of magic, and demons, and monsters and angels. You literally have a whole place full of that which lies beyond, which couldn't ever be determined as 'boring'. You along with it." she told him, passion and sincerity put into her tone to give him the impression that she really believed it, and it was important to her that he see it from her side. "Don't sell yourself short like that, Dorian. You're far better than you seem to be giving yourself credit for."

If she was looking for a way under his skin she'd found it. He'd ignore all day talk about his own smarts, but she'd just praised the store and that meant more to him than anything he cared about himself. "You know this is what I always wanted? A bookstore like this." He smiled, not paying attention to what he was doing, resting an elbow on the counter, a little way away from her and putting his chin in his hand. "I'm not that great Medea."

"Really?" she asked. Then she shifted to face him even more, sitting indian style on the countertop in front of him. "Okay, I don't know you that well. This is, in fact, the most I've talked to you ever. Do you want to know what I see?" she asked, then went on regardless. "I see a stupidly good looking young man who's got what he always wanted already in life, and has nothing but forward to go with his life. You've clearly got drive, to have this already. You did have a house before, which is more than most people your age have. You're intelligent, funny, successful...what isn't great about all of that?" she asked.

Dorian's chin slid off his hand as he almost fell over. He hadn't been expecting that at all. Maybe he'd expected her to pay him some sort of compliment, hell that was why he'd said it, to have her prove him wrong, but what she'd said was more than that. Stupidly good looking? Intelligent? Funny? Successful? Was that what she saw when she looked at him? It was far from what he saw. He saw an unstable mess who's little brother hated him. But this young, pretty girl? She saw something more like what he wanted to be. It was intoxicating. "I guess...Well I never thought of it that way. I can only see what I don't have."

Medea couldn't have plotted this out better if she'd handed Dorian a script. He really was playing into everything so perfectly. She blinked when he nearly fell over, and she reached out to put a hand on his forearm, as if to steady him. Really, she wanted him to see it as her taking an excuse to touch him. "Maybe you just need a shift in perspective." she told him, smiling. "Like what I was talking about before, just...letting someone else help you see it from a different angle. Because I see someone with everything. And anything you don't have? I'm sure you could get, if you tried." she assured. him, as if she believed that wholeheartedly.

He didn't need that, her touching him. Not with her so close he could almost smell the lingering scent of what he guessed was her shampoo. "Maybe I do need a shift," he mused, his voice letting something that was very close to desire slip. "I don't have everything. There's definitely at least something missing." A flash of moving in, of taking what he wanted shot across his mind like lightning and it was impossible to keep both the flash and the regret out of his eyes.

With her touching his skin, of course she was getting the read on his emotions as they skated through him, and it was pretty much the mix she'd been going for and expected. She wondered if he knew how much he telegraphed in his expressions, his eyes. Half of this she didn't even need the physical contact to read. "Let me guess." she said, voice softening a little. "I'll bet you don't have a girl in the picture to round it off. Bet it's been a while, too. I mean, for everything you've accomplished, you probably had no time for something like that." she said, smoothly putting in there a reasonable if lofty reason for him to not be dating. It meant he wouldn't have to fumble over excuses of his own. "Why don't you go for it now?" she asked. And she phrased it specifically. She could play it off that she meant the whole 'dating' thing, but she knew it would have another meaning he could take as well.

If someone else had asked him what was lacking in his life before now he'd have said a million things instead of a girl. But in this moment, with her there, her voice with that soft touch to it, it was all he could think of. "That's part of it," he told her and his eyes darkened some. "And if I did? Go for it now? How am I supposed to assume that wouldn't ruin everything?" He shifted the arm she was holding and caught her hand in his. Deep in the back of his mind his conscience was screaming at him, but he'd stopped listening long before now.

She didn't protest the switch in grips, and was still having fun monitoring the emotions he had going on. She kept her eyes on his, not letting them waver. With Porter she played the helpless damsel, the encouraging girl who needed him to save her. Dorian was a different play. She told him what he needed to hear, gave him just the right pushes. "What you have, no one can take from you." she told him, tone softer. Lighter. Like everything was getting to her, distracting her, even if everything was purely calculated on her part. "And there can be no spark in life without a little risk, right? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?" she suggested to him.

Dorian didn't comment that being tossed in jail could very well take everything he already had. Not because he didn't think it was true, but because he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want that soft sweetness in her voice to go away. It was like a drug and he'd do anything to keep it from going away. Pushing away from the counter, but still holding her hand he straightened up to his full height. With him standing she wasn't too far above eye level and giving her hand a gentle tug, fearful of the bruises he'd already seen on her skin, he leaned in closer pulling her towards him.

She didn't stop him, though she was thinking to herself that he was an even easier mark than she'd originally assessed. It had to have been a long time for the guy if it was just this easy. Especially considering the circumstances. She was most certainly illegal. Not only that but she was his employee, which would make it all even worse. Really, the entire situation was all kinds of messed up, and that's what she was counting on. If it was, and he was afraid of losing things, she was willing to bet she could get him to agree that it was their secret. Actually, that might even play into the appeal for him. It was that idea that had her not only letting him pull her closer, but she helped, pushing herself to the edge of the counter towards him, and letting her legs drop down on the other side, purposely parted just enough that he could move between them if he so desired.

When she slid to the edge of the counter his body reacted before his mind registered the situation. He moved in closer, between her legs with his stomach pressed into the edge of the counter. Letting go of her hand he brought a hand up on either side of her face, thumbs resting on her cheekbones, fingers tangled in the loose strands of hair on her neck. Pulling her closer until his forehead touched against hers his mind finally caught up and he stopped there, trying to slow his breathing and racing heart.

She gasped a little for him, a sound for his ears, to articulate to him that he was getting to her. She pressed her knees in a tiny bit so he'd feel them, where they were, a tiny little reminder. "Don't stop there." she murmured, a soft little whisper. Just a tiny bit breathy. At least she knew Porter wouldn't be walking in on them or anything, he had things to do today, he wasn't going to call her until much later. Of course, the door was still unlocked, but she imagined that played into the thrill for him, at least on some level. Really, the entire scenario had 'forbidden' written all over it. It was a fantasy, playing out for real. She was just playing her part to a T.

The gasp caused his chest to tighten and he lost whatever control he had on his own senses. "I...shouldn't." It was just as breathy. He knew full well he needed to walk away. There were windows the the damn store, people could walk in, and yet he couldn't move. No, not with her knees against his hips, or that sweet mummer of her voice.

Medea of course noticed that he hadn't pulled away, he was still right where he was, and he didn't pretend he didn't want to. Just that he was aware somewhere in the back of his head that it wasn't quite right. But again, she figured that played in on some level, the Wrong. She knew she could be more overt. Push it herself, she didn't think he'd push her away or anything. But, like with Porter, she thought it was important for the play that he do it first. So, she said the one thing she thought would really get him the most. "Please." she said, sounding just that little bit like she was begging for it. Just that slight tremor she put into her voice, the way the word almost didn't complete itself because it was so soft, so needy and breathy.

It wasn't just the word. The word itself was enough, the tone, the desire behind it. More than that though he was close enough to feel the word breath over his lips, to taste it as she said it and it broke whatever will he had left. Tilting her chin just enough he closed the last of the space between them, pressing his lips hard against hers, need and want spilling off of him and into the kiss.

She gave a soft little sound, and kissed him back, a little thrill of triumph in her mind over it. Easy. She wondered just how much sleep he was going to lose tonight after he was faced with actually thinking about what he'd just done here. She put her all into the kiss, though, paying attention to signals he gave, and complying with them. She wanted him to feel like he was in control, too, so she relaxed a little against him, even if one of her hands grasped at his shirt, like he might try to get away.

The voice in his head was silenced by the roar of desire when she kissed him back. One hand slid from her cheek and down her back pressing her closer to him as he kissed her harder. When she tangled her hand in his shirt, holding on to him and he thought that she must have wanted it too. Of course she did, she'd asked him to hadn't she?

So, in the span of...giving herself a generous allotment of time, forty minutes or so, she'd gone from barely remembering the guy, to getting him into this. She chalked that up as a successful day, really. Her concentration was still on making it what she assessed he wanted it to be, which was quite easy with the physical contact, where she could read in what evoked positive reactions in him. She pulled him in closer, drawing one leg up a little to hook around him slightly. She figured that would hit some buttons.

He'd broken off the kiss slightly and was starting to drift down her chin and towards her neck when she drug him closer. The pressure of her leg around his waist caught him off guard and the distraction was long enough to register where he was and what exactly he was doing. Shocked with himself and gasping for air he stopped, pressing his head against her shoulder briefly while the world swam around him. She was seventeen. A high schooler. Hell it was inappropriate for him to date some of the college girls that came into his store, let alone the high school girl he'd hired to work part time. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Dorian?" she asked, when he stopped, and she turned her face in towards his neck, speaking softly, a whisper. "Don't stop. Please don't, I..." she trailed it off, letting her breath ghost against his skin. She left it there, so he could either fill in the blank with what he wanted her to mean, or make his move, one way or another.

She was killing him. Her breath against his skin, that plea for him not to stop, it was actually physically hurting him. He wanted this so badly but he knew full well there wasn't anything good that could come of it. "I can't," he whispered back. Looking up he caught her face in his hands again. "It's not...Medea. I want to, you know I do. But..." Leaning in he pressed another kiss against her, this one still desperate, but under control. "I can't." Pulling away from her even though it felt like ripping part of himself out of his own chest, he took a step back. "I'm sorry...I, um. I'm gonna go." He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair behind the counter and started to make his way around even though it took him right up against her again.

She reached out to stop him, hooking her arms around his shoulders. "Wait." she pleaded, putting into her tone how much it was throwing her, the whole thing. "Please, just wait...listen." she continued, watching him, eyes dark, skin flushed a little. "No one has to know." she told him. "People shouldn't know. But it could be something just between us. Just between you and I." she told him. "And no one would ever have to know about it, and all the messy consequences...they wouldn't ever have to happen."

Dorian let her lead him back, resting a palm flat on the counter on either side of her. He wanted to believe her, hell he almost did believe her. There was something in this that he wanted so desperately that he was considering it. Seriously considering it. Considering it to the point where he was thinking about putting the closed sign up in the window and carrying her back to his makeshift bed in the back room. "Medea, we can't. Not a soul. Even if it never happens again, which it shouldn't, it has to stay between us."

Medea reached up to slide her palms against his cheeks, looking him in the eyes, heavy eye contact, keeping it held. "I can keep a secret. I'd depend on you to keep it." she told him. "No matter what." she put in there, stressing it just slightly. "So...can you keep a secret, no matter what happens? No matter who comes in or goes out of our lives?" she asked. She let her thumb brush against his cheekbone, touch soft, light. She made it sound like she was putting the conditions in there for his sake. To make him feel better that all the bases were covered.

He followed the line of her touch with his head, turning to kiss the palm of her hand gently. With his own hand he held her arm against his mouth, kissing her wrist before breaking away and kissing her again. "Of course I can," he breathed against her lips.

She kissed him again before she answered. "Then don't go." she murmured back to him, then kissed him again, this time making it deep, desperate, and it left no room to wondering what she wanted. She wanted his buttons pushed well and good, to clear away any doubts he had in his head. She didn't think it would take a whole lot, but she never did things half way. If she was going for a play, she was going for it. This one may not have been at all what she'd had in mind when she came in to work today, but it could never be said that Medea couldn't improvise.

A small groan came from him when she kissed him the second time. If he'd planned on leaving he wasn't now, he couldn't now. His life be damned he wanted this. He wanted to be with someone who made him feel worthwhile. Not Mathias who constantly outshone him, not Caleb who always made him feel like an idiot and a dick even when he was trying to be nice. No, this young girl who thought he was great and he was willing to give in to that just to feel wanted, to feel needed. His arms wrapped across her back, tugging her in closer so more of her weight was on him rather than the counter. "I won't, but it can't happen again Medea. You know that right?" Dorian had leaned back a little his eyes on hers, desperation in floating to the surface.

She nodded. "Right." she said. Which she really didn't for a second think was the truth. She even already knew how she'd play it. Longing looks, reserved sorts of cues but cues he'd pick up. letting him know that just being around him was enough to push her buttons, that the 'just this once' rule was killing her. That part would be entertaining, anyhow. It would be fun to see how long he held out. Considering how fast she'd gotten him here, especially with the laundry list of Wrong piled on it...she wasn't thinking it would be that long. "I know." she repeated dutifully, as if she'd agree to anything at the moment, so long as he didn't leave, so long as he gave in. She purposely laced in that level of pure urgency, for him, all focused on him. It was bound to give him that ego boost he seemed to so sorely need.

It was just as intoxicating as before, that need in her voice, that desperate want that was directed at him. It had been far too long since someone had even been interested, let alone desired him. Eager, he pulled her the rest of the way off the counter and set her on the ground. The height difference between them made him feel strong, ridiculous as that was and leaned in and kissed her deeply again. "We should at least..." he trailed off, distracted by kissing her but still managing to point in the general direction of the door.

She acted like he was distracting her as well, and she barely glanced back over towards the door. "Seems far away." she told him, a flirty little lilt to her voice, and it was a touch breathless. She leaned far back, trusting him to keep her upright, as she looked up at him. She also reached back to take her hair down, letting her hairtie drop down to the floor.

It seemed desperately far away, especially when she seemed to trust him to hold her steady. Not that he had any trouble with it. She was so tiny it took barely any effort on his part. He watched greedily as her hair fell about her shoulders, loving the way it framed her face. "Really should lock the door," he pulled her back into his arms, leaning in to breathe in the scent of her hair and kiss her again.

She tilted her head to the side when he pulled her back, and she kissed him when he kissed her. Her arms were hooked up around his neck, and she drifted her fingers into his hair, letting her fingers drift through it. "Think we can make it that far?" she asked, a playful, wicked little edge in her tone. She breathed it into his ear, and she let her lips brush against the lobe as she did so. She drew it between her teeth a tiny bit, giving him something to be distracted over. She was having a bit of fun distracting him.

Dorian almost choked on desire when she nibbled his ear and it took everything to not just drag her down to the floor behind the counter now. Customers be damned, he could barely stand when she did that to him. "I think I can make it. You stay here, or you can go back there," his eyes darted to the back room, knowing that moving back there meant so much more than just making out behind the counter, "I'll get the door." He pulled away from her, shocked at how cold it was when he wasn't next to her and moved quickly towards the door, flipping around the closed sign and locking the bolt. For good measure he even flicked the lights down, giving a softer lighting in the store.

Medea watched him, and she was slowly backing towards the door to the back room. She had her hands clasped behind her back, with the illusion of being demure, even if she made sure her expression didn't in any way convey that impression. She put the conflicting sorts of suggestions in on purpose, so she could be a little of everything. That slight touch of innocent, with the naughty edges too. Basically, what most men wanted. She kept her eyes on him like she couldn't tear them away. She kept backing up slowly, waiting to see what his next move was going to be. "Back here?" she asked, tone light, almost edging innocence.

He turned from the door and found her backing up towards the back room. Desire rushed through his veins and he moved swiftly towards her, forcing her back against the door. Hungrily he kissed her again, reading into the desire in her eyes, but eager to turn the innocence in her voice. "Very much back here," he told her, his voice rough with want. Pushing the door which opened in he guided her inside and closed it behind them.

She made a sound for him when he pushed her back against the door, and actually, with her whole 'bruises ridiculously easily' thing, it hurt a little--she just covered that entirely. She was used to a lot of things hurting a little and this was in the interest of a play, so she was ignoring it, and not letting him know about it, so it didn't spoil the mood. This was where she wanted him, she wasn't going to go dialing it back now, and she thought he'd be the type to get all girly and worried over a little bruise, over 'hurting' her. Instead she went with it, kissing him like her continued existence might depend on it, like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

The need coming from her was incredible. If he'd thought that softness in her voice was his drug of choice he'd been so wrong. The way she was kissing him, like this was the greatest thing ever to happen to her, that would be his own personal drug. That feeling of being wanted, being needed, it was too much to deny. Without much effort he managed to move her towards the bed he'd set up in the room. He'd gone looking for an air mattress after the second or third night on boxes and now he had that to lay her down on, lying next to her on his side, where he could both kiss her and see her.

Apparently, he'd set things up back here. With a bed and everything. Which put ideas into her head, really. All sorts of ideas she could play around with. She gazed up at him when he wasn't kissing her, kissed him back when he was. She pulled at his shirt, keeping up with that 'urgent' feel she'd been cultivating. Like things were accelerating out of control and they'd be helpless against it. Personally she was curious what he'd do if she kept hitting that particular button. What he was like with a shut off brain and wound up like he was.

One hand slid under her shirt and along her stomach enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. He'd bought into her urgency and was eager to push the envelope but something in him reminded him that she might not have the experience he did. Sure he was a dork deep down, but there'd been college, there'd been women. He slowed down his advance on her body, but reached up to tug off the t-shirt when she pulled on it.

When she had bare skin to feel, she did so, running her hands over his chest, looking impressed. That's what she effected, though there was at least a pinch of truth to it. It wasn't like the man was unattractive, after all, and he did take good care of himself. Since he'd slowed things down a little, she went with that, or she appeared to, before she reached up, putting her hand to the back of his neck to pull him down forcefully so she could kiss him again--like it had been too long since they'd done that.

He liked that, more than he'd expected too, that she seemed pleased with what she saw once he'd pulled his shirt off. Dorian gave into her when she drug him close, kissing her hard and wrapping his arms around her, holding her as if he'd never let her go. "Do you want this?" he asked his voice barely a whisper when he finally pulled back to catch his breath.

She didn't hesitate with her answer at all, knowing what he wanted to hear. "God, yes." she breathed, voice terribly unsteady, Though the more they got into things, the less feigning she had to do with that. By this point she was a little on the breathless side. "Yes." she answered again, before kissing him again. "Yes." she whispered with her lips still against his.

That was all Dorian needed to hear. He ducked his head, lips and tongue drawing lines along her jaw, dipping lower and he moved down her neck. Just as she had before he tugged her shirt to one side, kissing the bruise along her shoulder gently, sweetly. Another hand was back under her shirt, moving up her side slowly, taking in the curve of her. Dorian was drowning in her, and if he didn't get help there would be no finding his way out.

Really, what Medea wanted was for him to find his way thoroughly intoxicated by her. There was no better way to manipulate someone than to have them just that little bit addicted to you. And it seemed like Dorian was going to be an easy mark on that. She could represent everything. She gave him what he needed to hear, made him feel how he needed to feel, she was still a fantasy, really, the entire scenario. And it had just that pinch of wrong to it, that forbidden idea that so many people thrived on. She didn't stop him from exploring at all, tilting her head to the side enough so he could kiss along her shoulder all he wanted. She still kept up her light exploration of his chest, sliding her hand down his ribs, then towards his lower back.

Another small moan slipped between kisses as she her hand ran down his stomach. It'd been too long since someone had touched him like that, in that new, completely interested way. He tugged the shirt lower across her front, moving his kisses along her collar bone.

She let him do that, and let her short nails lightly scratch along his lower back, before she was sliding her fingers along the top of his pants, back towards the front with definite purpose. She wouldn't claim she was rushing him or anything, but she still wanted to give him the impression that he'd kicked up her passion, and that she wanted him. Nowish.

Dorian's body tensed under her touch, especially the nails along his back. When she reached for him, he complied, sliding her shirt up and towards off. He'd reached that point where he should probably be registering every move as a bad idea, where he should be considering where she'd been, and what exactly this would mean to her, but his brain had shut down. His movements and reactions were purely instinct and right now his instinct was to give her what she wanted, which thankfully was exactly what he wanted.

She rather hoped the bruises on her form weren't going to distract him much. She had many of them, it was just par for the course with her. If he did decide to stop and be concerned, she'd just have to convince him she was fine, of course. Which she would. But still, she hoped she didn't have to. Instead, she helped him get rid of her shirt, and she pulled the button on his jeans, and pushed the zipper down. She took the next step, too, just in case doubts started to kick in now. Reaching in, she touched him, even if it wasn't direct just yet. It should at least be enough to distract his attention and hold it.

He noticed the bruises, but they only served to remind him to be gentler. When she pushed the envelope, he shuddered slightly under her touch, bringing his own hand down to her jeans, unbuttoning and following her lead. Rolling on to his back he tugged her on top of him, using his hold on her jeans to drag her in. It seemed the safest way to keep from crushing her and it gave him a chance to watch her closely, to see if he could spot the desire reflected in her eyes. He needed that, craved it, he wanted to see her wanting him, not just feel it.

There was a little part of Medea that wondered how she'd actually gotten here. Not that she was going back on anything--hardly, she didn't do anything and then bail. Especially when everything had gone so unprecedentedly well. Still, it was strange, in it's own way. She'd have to tell her sister about it all. She moved when he moved her, and looked down at him, giving him exactly what he was looking for. A flushed, needy look. Like a the moment her world focused on him and him alone.

Dorian was wondering the same thing, how on earth he'd gotten here, but just the sight of her was too distracting to wonder if he shouldn't have been there at all. The need in her eyes was all he wanted and he pulled her down to kiss her, enjoying the feel of her hair falling around his face. With his free hand he was tugging at her jeans, pulling them lower on her hips and eventually sliding them off. "Medea," his voice was breathy, just against her mouth.

She smiled, and kissed him, drawing it out, keeping it up til she needed to breathe again. "Dorian," she answered, figuring he'd like to hear his own name in there. So it was clear she knew who was doing what to her, and all that other male ego stuff she catered to because it worked so damn well. She made sure her voice trembled a little when she said it, like she couldn't for the life of her keep it steady at the moment. She let him rid her of clothes, and moved to push at his.

He helped her shed the rest of his clothes, scrambling almost to drag her closer to him. He held her there briefly, desperate for more, but still worried. Reaching up he brushed the hair back from her face, holding her cheek in his hand. "Swear this is what you want?" It was a desperate question, but he needed to hear the answer. He couldn't go into this not knowing how she felt.

She smiled, reaching up to slide her hand over his. "This is what I want." she told him. "Is it what you want?" she asked, leaning a little more over, looking down into his eyes and maintaining that heavy eye contact. "Do you really want me?" she asked. Like she was nervous that he might reject her any time here, despite everything they'd been up to.

The surprise showed on his face when she turned his question back around on him. "Of course I do," he whispered, smoothing his hand along her hairline. "How could I not?" Confidence that he hadn't felt yet tonight flooded through him and he shifted her hips against his, urging her forward.

She shifted, going where he wanted her to be, and she smiled, leaning further over, so she could kiss him again. Kiss him, and let him take the lead, let him do what he wanted, fulfilling the little fantasy instead of just dreaming about it later. She was letting him be in charge so he'd feel like he had power, all of that.

He did just as she'd planned for him to do, guiding himself to actually take her, holding on to her, and catching her mouth in his to stifle his own groan with the feel of her around him. Fear coursed through him, but didn't sway him from his goal, he wanted this too badly to give into the fear.

She definitely tried to ease the fear. She could feel it, with the physical contact. That she wanted gone. So she moaned, something meant to make him feel like he was king of the world, like she'd never felt anything like this before, like it was the only thing that had been going to satisfy her. Really, while she'd had sex before and all, it hadn't been that terribly often. So part of it was carefully plotted to evoke specific emotions in Dorian, another part was her going with it because she could, apparently. She could seduce someone like seven years older than her, a man who by all rights shouldn't even consider something like this. But nope. She'd managed it. It was a heady sort of triumph in itself, and she used that to her advantage as well.

He tensed at her moan, but then just drug her in to kiss her harder, still grinding against her. The fear started to dissipate, at least the fear that he wasn't going to live up to her expectations dissipated. There was still some anxiety there about what he was doing in general, but with every movement he lost more of his conscious thought and just fell into how incredible it felt. Sure she was just a girl, but she was beautiful and despite his faults she wanted him, she needed him. More than that though, he was giving her what she needed and for once not falling short. That flicker of thought was enough to push everything else out of his mind.

Medea for her part let him have full control. He set pace, she gave him all the right cues she could, to keep up and solidify the impression that he was god's gift. She put her own efforts into things to make herself somewhat indispensable to him, too, though. She wanted him thinking about her, desiring her. She wanted him considering every time he saw her the whole 'one time only' rule. She wanted him wrapped around her little finger, and this was most certainly going to be the best way to do it. She breathed his name sometimes, to keep reinforcing that as well.

Dorian thought he'd had control of the moment, but then it ran away from him, pushing him over the edge with a shuddering gasp. He pressed his head against her shoulder, breath shallow and shaky, trying to just ride the wave of ecstasy that ran through him.

Medea hadn't quite been finished, but like she imagined most females were, she'd been inborn with the ability to fake it. So she did, and gave a good show of it, getting breathless, shuddering, collapsing atop him like he'd sapped every bit of strength from her. "God..." she whispered, in an terribly unsteady manner, for him. "God, Dorian..."

He grinned, happy that she'd felt what he felt and elated to hear her whisper against him. It felt so damn wonderful to do something right for once. Shifting her slightly so she had a nice place against his chest he brushed her hair off her face, stroking her cheek gently. "You're amazing," he murmured, pressing a kiss at her hairline and drawing her in closer, arms holding her protectively.

This was definitely going to be easy. He even wanted to snuggle now. Like she was his girlfriend or somesuch. Yeah, his whole 'just this once' thing really wasn't going to fly, he wasn't going to be built for it, or she didn't think. And even if he tried to resist, she would just keep pushing at boundaries til he broke. Considering how fast things went today, it wasn't going to be difficult at all. She snuggled comfortably with him and smiled. "You think so?" she asked, putting a pleased note in her tone, but also that light little tremor of a need for approval. That his opinion was vastly important, that it would make or break her.

"Of course," Dorian answered without hesitation. He even lifted his head slightly to try and catch her eye. Now that he had most of his senses back it was starting to nag at him just how shitty of a situation he'd gotten himself into, but he still shoved the thoughts aside until they were nothing more than a small guilty blip. He wasn't taking advantage of her if it was what she wanted right? He'd tried to walk away and that counted for something right? It wasn't like it was going to happen again...right?

She smiled at him, like his words eased all of her insecurities. "Good." she said, pushing up to brush a kiss across his lips. She drew in a deep breath and let out a contented sounding sigh, snuggling back again.

He returned the smile, but once she'd settled back down, his anxiety bubbled back up again. What was he doing? This time the concerns were harder to squash and he desperately wanted to ensure she'd keep the secret, to remind her again that it would only happen this once, but it seemed wrong when she seemed so happy. He'd made her that happy and he didn't want to be the one, like he usually was, to take it away. Frustrated, torn and still a little in shock from everything he didn't say anything else.

Medea felt the anxieties rush back into Dorian, and internally, she smirked a little. Ahh the manipulation points this guy had. They were everywhere. She shifted, stretching a little, then she glanced back up to him. "You know I better get back to work." she told him. "My boss might fire me if the shop's closed too long." she teased, smirking just a faint bit.

Dorian returned the smirk, but it didn't go all the way to his eyes. "You probably should. I hear he's a total jackass." Because he sure as hell feels like a total jackass, he thought to himself. For fuck's sake what was wrong with him? He leaned in and kissed her again, wanting to feel that desire, as if it might reassure him that he'd felt it earlier.

She kissed him back, putting her all into it, to quiet things down for him. That and leave him with something to contemplate, something he was going to want later. So she really did have that effort she paid, and she cut it off just a little fraction of a second too soon, so it would leave him with the impression things weren't finished with her. Then she pushed herself up and started to tug clothes on. "I don't know, I think my boss is pretty kick ass. Guess I'll just have to work on dispelling that crazy rumor." she said. "Anyways...," she said, standing as she buttoned her pants again. "I'll see you later." she said, smiling down at him and waving before she headed for the door.

Her kiss did just as she wanted, leaving him wanting more when she pulled away. Dorian didn't really do much else besides sit up when she started getting dressed, grabbing the tossed aside blanket on the mattress to put over himself in some weird moment of modesty. Her comment got a half smile out of him at best and when she stood he had to fight the urge to reach out and drag her back down to him. Once. He'd said just once. When she walked out he managed a half wave and then buried his head in his hands. He was a damned moron.