Kiss Me You Animal [Stonzi32 & DianaHForst]

Fucker Doesn’t Listen

Tristan had his eyes wandering around the club and he was smiling at himself, feeling sure of himself that he managed to get past security. “Fucking morons,” he snorted, glancing back at the security guard trying to pry the Lycan and vampire apart. With their little scuffle, getting past the security check in was such an easy stint with that ‘scuffle’ that he was finding himself heading towards the bar for a drink, his head whipping back ahead to stare at the neon underlit bar. His hand swept across it as he leaned over it, slapping it slowly with his hand. “Hey bartender!” he called, staring into the crowd of moving bodies as the music resounded overhead, blaring out nearly all noise and almost his own voice too. His eyes were searching for the hint of that tall visage, that asshole he was going to put six feet under.

Hailey came over to him, her blonde brow high as she looked at him. “Customer,” she quipped back at him with a bit of an attitude.

He turned, his brown eyes bright as the locks of burgundy and brown bounced from around his face. “What an attitude,” he smirked, forcing the expression as he found himself glancing her up and down slowly. Bright blue eyes, soft dirty brown hair with high hints of blonde highlights. He wondered if they were even natural. He put both his forearms on the counter as he leaned on it, placing his foot on the bar that encircled the tall counter. “Do you always sass your customers like that?”

She blinked at him, all emotion leaving her face. “What do you want?”

“So cold,” he sighed, smiling as he laughed hoarsely at her. Tristan shook his head slowly as if in disbelief. “Do you guys have rum?” he asked, a quirky brow raising at her as he waggled the brow at her playfully.

“This is a bar,” she told him. Surely he wasn’t this stupid.

“And you’re a bartender,” he shrugged, unable to wipe the smirk off his face as he closed his eyes before opening them into a roll.

“And you’re wasting my time. Just rum? On the rocks? What?” she asked.

“Fine, fine.” He mock groaned at her, shifting his shoulder till he tilted his head to the side. “If you can fix me up something, anything with rum; that tastes good of course then I’ll tip extra. Can you manage that?” he asked her as he rapped his knuckles on the counter and slid into the seat to his right as someone left it. “Or is that too challenging?” he smarted off, putting on a little heat on her. “I don’t want to make your job hard for a busy girl like yourself.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as she pulled up a glass. She started pouring a mix of rum and ginger beer. She threw a lime slice in it and slid it to him. “There,” she said. “Are you paying cash or tab?”

“Depends,” he told her, his eyes instantly going to the drink as he tugged the glass towards himself delicately between three fingers and a thumb, barely touching it. His pinky ran over the bottom of the glass for a moment, feeling the wet condensation slick over it and suddenly his eyes were back up to meet hers. “Are you going to be a giant pain in my ass or are you going to smile at me with your best customer service face?” he snorted, lifting it up to his lips as his other hand dug into his pocket to slap a twenty down on the counter. He winced a little at the sweetness, not fond of it, but drank it down anyway or at least half of it. “I might be back for more.” Something else, probably.

She forced a smile. “Mm, I’ll hold my breath.” She took the twenty and slipped further down the bar to catch a few more customers.

He leaned back against the counter, his eyes floating up to the crowd as he snorted to himself. “What a–” he started, then cut himself off. He wouldn’t be that mean, not yet at least. “I’m sure she gave me this sweet shit on purpose,” he grumbled into the drink, tilting his head back to chug it, popping up from the seat to go back for the crowd.

“Blood wine,” a female announced to Hailey, pushing her card at her as she turned her head, the red gleam in her eyes lighting up as she watched the man walk away, bleeding into the crowd. “My– my.” She gaped, nearly unseating herself.

Hailey pulled out a small bottle to hand to her as she slid the card off the bar. She looked to see what she was talking about. “Sheila- no…” she said, looking at her.

“Oh Hai,” she drawled, sucking on her pinky nail before clacking her teeth over it. “He’s like an open buffet, surely you aren’t going to tell me not to follow. Besides… I’ve been waiting for a thrall night,” she told her, standing up as she nearly missed the bottle with her hands, but found it absentmindedly before she dragged it off the glass countertop.

“A what?” she asked, taken back. She blinked as it dawned on her then. The blood left her face. How the hell did a human get in here? “It’s not,” she growled, sliding back her card as she quickly went to walk around the bar.

“No?” Sheila asked as she took a drink. She drank down a small sip, but it seemed to be lost on her as her interest waned. “I guess… I guess I’ll have to be quick if I want a handle on him,” she smirked, laughing to herself as she snatched her card up in trade for her drink to follow after him. Her hand was stuffing the plastic thing between her breasts as she wiped her hands on her thighs.

Hailey’s glowing blue eyes searched the crowd trying to find him quickly. She caught sight of the unruly auburn curls and zeroed in on him. “Hey!” she called after him, quickly grabbing for his wrist.

Sheila was slipping up to him right at that moment, catching his attention before he could turn to Hailey. “Hey there,” she smiled, staring at him. “Want to come with me?”

Tristan blinked, as if caught unawares between the two of them. He stared at the woman hard, as if his mind was trying to tug away, to discern the meaning to her words and how it hit him. “S-Sure?” He wasn’t sure, but his eyes were starting to glaze over.

“No!” Hailey shoved between them, facing Sheila. “You can’t do that here, Sheila. Break it now!”

She tsked at her in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “Such a bore,” she sighed, letting him go. “Another time, dollface. When you’re less… occupied.” She glanced at Hailey with almost a near glower before turning to bleed back into the fray of dancing bodies.

Tristan blinked, snapping from the daze to look around quickly. “Shit,” he breathed in amazement as he felt his thoughts come rushing back. Such a jarring feeling. What was that? He turned to look at Hailey, his brows knitting together before a grin formed on his lips. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I prefer an honest ‘let me buy you a drink’ before you start getting handsy with the goods.”

She worked her jaw, her nostrils flared. She politely grabbed him by the front of his shirt, catching the sprinkling of chest hair before dragging him through the bar to the exit to toss him outside.

He grimaced, trying to tug back to pry her hand off, but she had a pretty good death grip on the shirt and his hair. “Yikes, fuck- don’t… grab so hard.”

“You’re a fucking idiot!” she snapped at him.

He stumbled out the door, turning to catch himself and turn on her. What strength for a tiny little thing. He blinked at her, in light astonishment. “Yeah, I’m not finding the relevance in this,” he told her, squinting at her. “If this is your idea of a date. I’m not impressed.”

“Shut up! Do you have a death wish?”

He snorted at that, rolling his eyes as he fixed his shirt. “Oh come on sweetheart, surely you’re not that concerned for a stranger like me?” he laughed, leveling a look at her as he wagged a brow at her. Like I’m letting some little bitch tell me what I’m fucking doing.

“You-” She almost screamed. “You really are that fucking stupid!”

He scoffed, putting his arms around his chest before lifting one to mimic her squawking with his hand. “Yeah yeah, anyway. When are you going to just admit you want it? I’m sure this works with all the other drunk ones, but you haven’t buttered me up with enough alcohol yet, baby cakes.”

“Oh!” She screamed. “You’re- Do you even know what this place is?”

“A club. I’m not dense,” he told her, shrugging. Where was she going with this?

“How did you get in?” she asked.

He smirked at that, “You would ask, wouldn’t you?” he asked her, a defiance lighting in his eyes as he rubbed his hand over his jaw and the neatly trimmed hair of his beard. “Look. You look the other way, go back in and wag your ass for a few more tips. I might slip one in your pocket if you stop screaming at me and we can both go about our businesses unless you want to… You know?” he laughed, unable to help himself despite not continuing.

Hailey flared her nostrils again and wanted so badly to just punch him in the face. Her fists tightened painfully at her sides. “If I look the other way you’ll be dead by morning. Go home. Don’t come back.” She relaxed her fists then

There was a thought! “Dead by morning, huh?” he asked curiously as he stroked his beard, contemplating it. “Meh, go on a date with me and I’ll give up.” For the night. “Then, maybe, I’ll be more apt to oblige the little lady.”

“You wish, pretty boy,” she scoffed.

His eyes lit up at that, staring at her in surprise. “Me?” he scoffed. “Oh, you really are a fucking treat.” Tristan stepped up to her, towering over her by a bit. “Make me,” he told her firmly, leaving it to her to try to discern his expression.

She glared up at him, her jaw working as she pushed her tongue into her cheek. “Don’t,” she growled.

“Oh, please, enough with the tough act, baby girl. I’m not intimidated by a little thing like you. Take the offer,” he told her, running his tongue over his teeth carefully. “Or go find another dick to ride.”

Her eyebrow twitched up, and before she could stop herself she punched him across the face.

Tristan expected it, almost at least, but it felt so much worse. Like he just got decked by another guy his size if not more as he saw white flash and his jaw clacked. Black hit him faster than he could manage out before fell back, rocked by the blow and hit the ground sprawled out flat on his back.

“God dammit!” she yelled. Now what the fuck was she supposed to do? She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She pulled her phone out and called a cab for this stupid human before bending down to search his pockets. Finding his wallet, she looked through it for his license. “Tristan… fucking dumb ass.” At least she had an address to give the cab driver when they showed up. She thumbed through… Hopefully this was enough cash to get him home.

Hell of a Wake Up

Tristan hated how he woke up to the sound of a cab driver screaming at him. He didn’t remember how the fuck he got there, but the payment wasn’t cheap, nor was it cheap when he went back to see his car towed. “That bitch,” he growled, rubbing his jaw sorely as he grimaced and passed through a side door he saw open up on the side of the building. He wasn’t sure if security would be looking out for him, but catching the door open to slip in would be a cinch.

He turned his head, looking from behind him to slam right into a guy with sharp green eyes and black hair.

“Fuck, watch it, asshole,” he growled at him.

Tristan blinked, straightening up as he grimaced, one side of his mouth tugging up but it was less of a smile and more of a sarcastic curve of his lip. “Yeah?” he asked before he felt the slam of a fist into his chest. He didn’t even get the chance to stumble, knocked from his feet by a man clearly thinner than him before slamming into the ground and rolling over himself. “Fuck, these… guys don’t play around,” he scoffed, dragging himself up as he grabbed for his knife.

“You rolled his ass,” the black eyed man beside him cackled with similar black hair. “Damn, he must be fresh or stupid. I can’t tell.”

“Want to try again?” Tristan asked, cracking a grin at the two as he watched them look at each other before they turned on him.

He wasn’t sure who won that fight, but he was stumbling into the club after it all from that same side door, thankful it wasn’t locked. He shoved his hair back out of his face, sighing with relief that he’d managed to hook the blade across the cheek of the green-eyed one before catching the ear of the other. Guess being pretty meant a lot to one of them. “Fools,” he grunted, staggering into a wall for a second to groan. God, these people… really were inhuman. Why was he doing this again? Ryan. Ryan was why. He had to remind himself of that before he slipped into the crowd, coming up to the bar. Why the bar? Fuck, he wasn’t entirely sure other than the promise of something to ease the quench of his parched throat, burning from the heat of his burning lungs. His head was pounding and he couldn’t think straight. “Water,” he called, slapping down whatever little amount of bills he had in his pocket onto the counter.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hailey asked, her voice a high-pitched whisper as she came over to him.

“Asking for water,” he told her. “And if you don’t serve it, give me something harder than rum.” He really wasn’t in the best spirits to argue with her quite yet. He needed to get his head to stop ringing first.

She grabbed a water bottle from under the bar. “Now leave!”

“Baby girl,” he breathed. “If you could just not screech at the top of your lungs for once, I think my head would appreciate it a lot more than you know right now.” He pulled the bottle towards himself to crack it open and start chugging it. The ice cold water burned at first, making him nearly choke, but after a moment it only brought him a comforting relief. If only it was on his head instead.

There he goes again. “I’m not screeching. Do I need to remove you again, or are you going to be a good boy and get the fuck out?”

He scoffed at the remark, hardly perturbed by it. “Good boy?” Hardly. “You know… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that little sucker punch you laid on me last night,” he started, closing the water bottle to press the remaining liquid in it against his temple. “Mm, man, that smarts.”

“Sucker punch,” she snorted. “You think you can talk to me like that again, I’ll do more than lay you out,” she growled.

“So violent. I wonder how many guys find their kink in that,” he told her in light annoyance as the pain bled away for a moment and his vision cleared. He found himself blinking a few times as the clarity came over him to stare at her a little more. The blue eyes. Ah, he remembered that cute little plump face of hers. The speckle of a few freckles dotted her face, her short hair seemed to wave away from her face, parted to one side. “You’re cute, but I’m not sure I find your little violent streak too hot, babe. You’re going to have to clean that act up if you want to get laid.”

“You’re going to find yourself dead if you keep coming back here.” Her expression softened a little. “Please, just go home.”

“You’re not my keeper,” he told her, sitting up then to push off the counter. “Besides, I’m not here just to dick around like you think. If I die, then I guess I die.” He wasn’t planning on it, not till he put his little brother’s name to rest, then he’d figure out what he’d do with himself afterwards.

“That’s awfully morbid of you,” she said, crossing her arms. “What are you trying to accomplish? Why are you here?”

“I told you already,” he told her. “I don’t spill out my problems to strangers. Take me on a date and we can talk. Maybe… Just maybe I might let you in on a thing or two,” he told her, putting the bottle on the counter. “Anyway, thanks for the water. I’ll see you around.” He pushed off the counter, stepping back from her. He smirked. “Good luck with your little uh… bartending or whatnot.” Seemed like she did a little more than that, not that he minded it so much anymore. She wasn’t that bad on the second round.

“Wait!” She watched him go and huffed. “Fine… I’m not your fucking keeper,” she grumbled before getting back to work.

“Is… Is he good?” Adam asked in light surprise as he walked up to the bar. He was pretty new to the scene, but considering how new this was to him, he was doing his best to get used to working as a stagehand in the back and switching gears out of human society. “David asked for more water. Said he’s dying under the stage. Can you pass me a case?” he asked, turning to look back behind him. That guy looked like hell.

“Not really,” she sighed before pulling a case up from under the bar. “Tell David, he can grab one of these when he gets here and keep it backstage.”

“You know he can’t leave that stage,” Adam told her, smiling at her sympathetically. “They practically tethered him to it.”

“He doesn’t sleep there…” She said unamused.

He smiled more, not answering that. “I won’t spoil that,” he told her, glancing away. His eyes shot up to the crowd, noticing that guy had slipped off somewhere. “Do you want me to watch the bar? Or should I get security?”

“Tell him, or he can die of thirst and heat exhaustion.” She gave Adam a look. “And you can tell him I said that.”

He glanced back at her, ripping his attention from the crowd. “Hailey, you don’t have to be such a hard ass. Lighten up.” He took the case from her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind getting it if that stupid platform got replaced. It breaks like every other night and he’s always fixing it and working the fog machines. Give him a break.”

She snorted. “I’ll ask the boss to get it replaced again, but he’s just going to say the same thing he always does. David just needs to get better at fixing it.”

“Pfft, right. Or he could just buy new equipment instead of shit off the used thrift apps he loves so much,” he told her. “I’ve heard it enough times around here and it’s only been a few weeks.” He chuckled at that. “Well, anyway. Good luck with that and uh… good luck with your beat up buddy. He looks like he just got out of a good work out fight.”

“My?” she snorted and rolled her eyes. As if.

He laughed more, shaking his head at her before walking away. Adam went back to the left stage as he paused, seeing Jeremiah and Farrah. “Hey!”

“Can’t talk! I’m late!” Farrah waved, slipping off from Jeremiah’s side who was going under the stage. She was sliding up to the bar. “Sorry I’m late, Hai. Jere had to pick me up because my car broke down again.” She was sliding up beside her, smiling weakly knowing it was only half of the excuse. Her boyfriend had a habit of… Well, taking his anger out on her things.

“It’s fine. It hasn’t been that busy tonight,” she told her, having an idea of what was going on, but not wanting to press it. “At least you’re here now.” She gave her a small smile.

She smiled weakly at that, knowing Hailey was being kind. Heath was a bit of an ass most nights, but Hailey was nice enough to not tear into her about him like everyone else did. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. You can go on a double fifteen. I won’t tell,” she told her softly. “Just um… Take the trash out or whatever and I’ll cover your back.”

“Alright. I’ve got to go grab another case of bloodwine. You good?” she asked her.

“I’m fine,” she smiled at her, repressing a wince. “Just. Go. I’ve got this.”

Hailey nodded and walked around the bar to start heading for the back where they kept the extra cases of blood wine and beer.

The back door was open, left cracked just right beside the storage door and the breeze from outside was drifting in, ice cold against the hot hair from the club.

Hailey stopped seeing the door open. “For fucks sake.” Was this how that idiot kept getting in? She stepped out to check and see if it was open for some reason.

There was the sound of a glass bottle skittering across the ground. Tristan was holding his head in his hands, feeling his head ringing as he tried to take in the cold air from outside. He was sitting on the ground outside the door, keeping it propped open with a milk crate. Fuck, my head won’t stop ringing. They really had kicked the piss out of him, hadn’t they?

Hailey sighed. Why didn’t this guy just leave? “You need me to call you a cab again?” she asked, crossing her arms as she stared down at him.

He laughed, shaking his head at her slowly. “No, but if you could leave me alone for a bit that’d be great,” he told her thickly, his smile quickly fading. “Gah, my head.” It hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit.

She rolled her eyes as she uncrossed her arms, running a hand through her shoulder length hair to push it to one side of her head. “Hey, look at me,” she told him, gently taking his face to get a look in his eyes.

“Why?” he winced, forcing a laugh despite it being mirthless and the sound coming off as more sarcastic than anything. “You plan to kiss me or something?” He stared into her eyes, one eye closing from the forming black eye.

“I’m checking to see if you need to go to the hospital. What happened to you?” she asked, concern bleeding into her tone.

“Hospital?” he asked, tilting his head back to yank it from her grip. “Mm, no. I’m afraid not.” He was pushing her hands from his head. “The only place I plan to go to is back inside when my head stops ringing.”

“Well, that’s likely not going to happen since I’m willing to bet you have a concussion.”

“Concussion con-” he rolled his eyes, unable to drag up something to retort with. He put his hands over his knees. “Tell me, you know a guy named Laurence?” he asked her. “If you do… That’s all I need. I’ll go on quietly if you just give me that. Promise.”

“Laurence?” She thought about it for a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

“Damn,” he cursed, sinking against the wall more. “I know he comes here a lot,” he breathed. “Fucker.” He closed his eyes for a moment, slipping out of it for a moment before blinking to open his eyes wide, turning his head slowly. “I need to go back in there then,” he breathed, pushing himself up slowly off the wall.

“Hey, wait,” Hailey said gently. “What are you gonna do when you see this guy?”

“Don’t worry about it baby girl, that’s not your concern,” he breathed, smiling as he stood up. He stared at the door before turning to peel himself off the wall to go for it.

She pushed against his shoulder to keep him from going back inside. “Will you stop? You’re really not looking good.”

He grabbed her wrist to tug her closer, his face close to hers. “If you plan to keep touching me, I’m going to take it as an advance,” he breathed, staring down at her, his eyes barely able to focus. When did everything get so blurry?

She craned her head back as she stared at him. “Um- it’s not. Let go,” she told him.

“You started it, grabbing my face. Getting in my personal space,” he murmured, leaning in closer. He didn’t let go of her, his footing faltering as he tried to catch himself while tugging her under him so he didn’t fall on top of her. Shit. It’s getting worse. He opened his eyes, realizing the other one wasn’t opening now and he was cursing himself for being dumb enough to challenge the two guys from earlier even if they didn’t look threatening enough. Gotta make a note… Not to think humans and these… guys are on the same level as me.

She gasped when he stumbled into her. “Alright. We’re going to the hospital,” she said, pushing against him a little to try and shift to get under one arm to help keep him up.

He snorted, rolling his one open as the other was barely cooperating. “You think you’re taking me to the hospital?” he laughed, his grip on her tightening to make it difficult for her to turn under him. “Mm, I don’t think so.”

“You’re in no position to fight with me, Tristan. We’re going.”

So it was her, blowing his money on the cab last night too. Had to have been. He never told her his name. “You sneaky cherub,” he laughed, tilting his head back before sighing sadly. “You cost me a lot of money on that fare,” he told her, now that he remembered it. She also cost him his car and wherever it was impounded. He was turning his head down, the glistening brown curls bouncing over his face neatly as he grabbed her cheek to have her look at him. “You owe me big time for that,” he told her, leaning in to press his lips hard against hers before opening his mouth. His eyes shut tight.

She was about to say something when he kissed her. She opened her eyes wide, trying to pull back again, but he had her face. “Mm!” she gasped.

He squeezed his eyes shut, the swollen one doing its best, as he ran his tongue over her teeth, feeling her pull back before he started to falter, his legs tangling up with hers as he stumbled back with her, pushing her towards the center of the alley then tugging back to the wall. Fuck. The world was starting to spin and he was afraid to open his eyes as he felt a sting on his tongue, making him yank back to let her go.

Hailey pushed away from him and glared. “You fucker,” she growled. “Now you’re really going.” She grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt to drag him out of the ally towards the parking lot.

Tristan tried to yank back, his legs moving in weak and awkward steps as he tried to keep himself upright. His left eye opened to glimpse her. “Do I–” he felt the pain get worse and he hissed, grabbing his head as the burning sensation on his tongue intensified. “Fuck,” he rasped, grabbing his head.

“Yes, you have to,” she snapped at him. She pulled him along, none-to-gently towards her car.

“Y-You always start dates this way?” he asked, closing his eyes as he nearly slapped up against the side of her car, grabbing it for support before he slid down the height of it. “Fuck, my head,” he rasped, feeling the top of his head where the nice lump was coming to shape finally.

“It’s either I take you or an ambulance,” she said. Let’s see how he feels about that bill.

He scrunched his nose at that. “Yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got plenty racked up enough with those guys. I’m sure they’d love another bill.” He glanced at her, slowly sliding down the car to the concrete beneath his feet. “You’re better off just taking me home, putting an ice pack on it and c-call” the sharp pain coming over him had him pausing to muscle through it “-ing it good.”

“You haven’t even bought me dinner. I’m not going back to your place,” she quipped. “Hospital.” She opened the door to her back seat. “In.”

“T-Tell you what, you can have my dinner if they’re still serving,” he croaked in mockery of her retort. She was finally catching on at least. He frowned, groaning as he lifted himself up, swaying from side to side a little. “A-And what about p-people like yourself… Just running around, bludgeoning anyone as they like. Y-You go to hospitals too?”

“People like me?” she asked, her eyebrow arched. She rolled her eyes and grabbed him, pushing his head down as she shoved him into the car. “Just stop talking.”

He winced, unable to push her off as her hand touched his head, making him yank back and smack his head on the door frame of the car till he was falling back in the seat. “Damn, so rough,” he groaned, giving in as he laid back on the seat, putting his legs up to curl into himself. If he wasn't hurting so bad, he might have said more but he couldn't gather his thoughts.

“I-” she breathed out hard through her nose, before shutting the door to climb into the driver’s seat to start the car. “You at least know how to put a seatbelt on, right?” she asked, staring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Aw, you’re worried,” he rasped, covering his eyes with his arm. “That’s so sweet.”

“Obviously! I’m taking you to the hospital!”

He groaned, running his tongue over his teeth in discomfort as he started to move his legs more, trying to get comfortable. “Hospitals are– nice,” he told her, losing his train of thought a little as he grit his teeth, feeling the heat come up through him, really pressing in. He almost felt a fever starting to come on.

She buckled her seatbelt before pulling out of the parking spot to leave. She kept glancing at him through the mirror. “Don’t throw up in my car.”

“I would– never,” he gasped out, opening his eyes as he felt how bright the lights suddenly felt. “But God is it hot in here,” he told her, feeling the prickle of his skin against his clothes and the seat beneath him.

She looked at the temperature gauge on her dash. She sighed and turned the AC on for him.

He went quiet after that, drifting for a bit till they got up to the hospital. A thirty minute drive wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t feel like he was dying in his own clothing, sweating up a storm nearly as he tugged on his shirt, trying to weakly shed his overcoat. “So…” he started, trying to stir himself awake.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot, thankful that this late at night it wasn’t as busy, so she could find a spot pretty close. She turned the car off and looked back at him. “Hey, we’re here.”

He smiled at that. “I thought you knew my name,” he breathed, barely coming back to.

“So what?” she asked. She turned the AC off, finally starting to feel the bite of cold air. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He tried to force a laugh, a low, breathy yet sorrowful plea for relief. “Is it always this hot when you get hit?” he asked, feeling the black taking hold. He wasn’t sure how much of this made sense, but he felt like he was slipping away as the darkness started creeping up. “Or is it just you?”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes, but then turned around to really look at him.

He winced, his mouth tugging down. “Because if not, my head is fucking splitting,” he told her, licking his tongue against his corner of his mouth before running his tongue over his bottom lip. “And everything feels like it’s starting to heat up. It’s… I can’t even describe it.”

She watched him and noticed the little bit of blood on his tongue. Dread hit her so hard, it nearly knocked the breath from her. “Oh shit. No. No. God dammit!” She growled. She turned to push between the seats to take his face. “Did-” how the hell was she supposed to word this? “Did you cut your tongue when you kissed me earlier?”

Tristan laughed at that. “You bit me, what are you talking about?” he asked, unable to open his eyes anymore. It all hurt too much.

“Fuck!” she wheezed. “You fucking idiot!” she snapped at him. “Fuck!” She pulled back into the front seat of the car and gripped the steering wheel so tightly it groaned. “AH!” She couldn’t believe it. She pulled a fucking Warren!

He winced, her voice blaring against his ears. “P-Please lower your voice, my head can’t take much more,” he groaned.

She grit her teeth so hard it hurt. “Guess we’re going back to your place,” she growled.

"Fun," he rasped in pain.

It’s Impolite to Kiss and Tell

Hailey rolled her eyes as she dragged Tristan out of the back seat of her car. "Wake up! Just a little longer!" She groaned.

“Ugh,” he groaned, his eyes rolling as she hefted him up. His body felt so heavy. “D-Doll, just drop me off…” he was mumbling, barely coherent. “We can dance at your club some other time.” He felt feverish, hot, and sweat was starting to bead up on his forehead as he tried to open his eyes into the night, a low metallic gleam already starting to sliver in his eyes.

She looked at him. "Yeah… can't do that." She grumped. "If you die- I swear!"

“Die,” he breathed as if more questioning it than anything. Tristan started turning his head as it fell on his shoulder and he felt his legs tumble from the car. “Babe. I’m not going anywhere till I get my hands on that sick son-of-a-bitch,” he grunted, trying to push himself up awkwardly as his knees bent. He groaned, hating the feeling that was coming on. “Fuck,” he rasped. He was going to throw up, everything was blaring so loudly at him.

"Oh no. If you're going to blow chunks do it that way," she said, turning him away from her as she tried to get him to the front door.

He wheezed, hating that it was coming up in such a blind state of pain before he threw up, catching himself on the ground as his back heaved and his palms hit something cold. Concrete? He wasn’t sure, but he knew his stomach was evacuating everything he just ate.

She let him fall to the ground but made sure he didn't fall over into his vomit. She winced and looked away. "You'll feel better once we get you inside." She frowned. Hopefully he had pain meds and at least an ice pack. A cold shower would help, but she was afraid he'd drown.

“What?” he asked her, trying to pry his eyes open as he staggered to his feet, stumbling over the fresh bile mixed with his drink and anything he’d had prior. He hated the smell that assaulted his nose, the smell sharp and harsh till he was scrunching his nose at her. “You… took me to your–” he wheezed, laughing weakly as he stumbled up to the door. Why did it feel familiar? He was reaching out, pawing at the wall before he found a handle and somehow he was almost certain he was home. Tristan groaned, slamming his shoulders into the door to slide down it and to the ground. “Fucking God, I feel like shit!” He hated it.

Hailey leaned down and took his face to catch his eyes. "I know," she frowned. "Where are your keys? I'll help you inside, get you something for the pain, and try and help you cool down." She knew he wouldn't get much relief tonight though.

So he was home? “Pocket,” he rasped, trying to move his left hand up that wasn’t sandwiched against the door to feel his left coat pocket for the opening. He sighed, wondering if this strange woman was going to help him or just make his night that much worse. He wasn’t entirely sure, but she was a nice treat when he was feeling extra worse for wear. “You mind… explaining why you’re… following me home when you rejected my passes every time before? Or should I just have feigned being sick to get you to go along with me?” he asked, laughing hoarsely. I really don’t want to remember any of this. God, he was certain he looked pathetic.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll explain tomorrow. When you're feeling better." She pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. "Come on, pretty boy. Just a little further and you can lay down."

“Pretty boy,” he grumbled, groaning as he shifted his weight to his calves, pushing himself up from the ground. “You-” he tried to remember what he was going to say, crashing into the wall and knocking down his picture frame hanging above him to grab the wall as he started to laugh. Tristan stared at the couch ahead of him, seeing the blurry form of its shape ahead before walking towards it to flop down on it, not even bothering to go for his room. “Just the leave key,” he started to tell her, pulling a hand up to point at the kitchen “on the table. I’ll find them tomorrow.” He didn’t expect her to stay.

She shut the door behind her and walked to the kitchen, but didn't set the key down to leave. Instead, she looked through his cabinets quickly to find a glass for water and then a bottle of pain meds. "At least they're all in one place," she sighed. She filled the glass with water and took it out to him on the couch. "Take these real quick," she told him gently.

He lifted his head, groaning before turning his head with his eyes closed. “You know, if you want to be a real doll for me, you could just do me the simple favor of just knocking me the fuck out instead of prodding and poking at me like you’re my nurse and I’m a geriatric patient.” He groaned, turning over onto his back before pushing himself up to lean on the back of the couch, beckoning for the glass to be put in his hands as he wasn’t planning to open his eyes anytime soon. It’s not like he could see through all the pain and the headache with the blaring colors and noises.

She breathed a laugh at that. "Mm, you'll thank me for this later." She took his face to make him look at her. "Rest," she ordered him.

Tristan barely had his eyes open, squinting at her as he heard her voice. So soft and melodic almost, the words coming from her lips almost in a sort of trance-like vibration that settled over him till he realized himself and he was yanking upright god-only-knows how long later. “Fuck!” he rasped, jerking up into a sitting position. He grabbed his head quickly. “Dammit!” He turned quickly, shuffling his phone from his coat pocket to check the time. How long had he been out?

Hailey was at the kitchen table sipping at a cup of coffee. She'd taken it upon herself to make a pot knowing he might be waking up soon.

He was checking his phone’s messages, but the only thing on there was that the tow yard that had taken his vehicle had finally reached out and there was a bill being invoiced to it if he wanted it back at the current rate with the operating hours. He made a sarcastic roll of the eyes at it, the beater car probably wasn’t worth it, but it was the principal of it. “God, she’s cost me more than enough,” he grumbled, scraping his hand through his hair when he heard the sound of porcelain coming to rest on wood. The sound was so acute to his ears that he yanked his head quickly in her direction, his chest rising and falling in a light panic at her presence. “What are you doing here? No, why are you still here?” he asked her, one assault of a question after the next, his mouth primed to spill more. Why the fuck did he pass out so easily like a baby after hearing her speak a word to him? He hadn’t slept that well in months prior to this point.

She had her legs crossed as she leaned over the table to hold the coffee cup. "There's a lot we have to talk about. Go ahead and get yourself a cup." She had her hair pulled all to one side messily, but it still looked nice. She looked tired though, like she hasn't slept much.

Tristan just stared at her, the immediate shock only barely beginning to settle into him as he yanked himself up from the couch. "Nice to see you made yourself at home," he griped sourly, stalking into his kitchen as he felt a painful yet gnawing hunger rip through him. Damn, if I wasn't so jacked up, I could take this better but I can't think straight. He ignored the prospect of coffee to reach for the nearly stale yet not quite molding bread for two slices. White bread of course, because anything healthy was far from his mind. He stared at her, leaning against the fridge. "You've got a lot of gall, seating yourself at my table and telling me to serve myself when you've clearly made strides to make yourself comfortable. Speaking of… I'm not the glitzy type so just spit it out." He wanted her out. He wasn't in the mood for this, though if he was being honest, his buddy was doing a lot more than craving sustenance.

She took a drink, her eyebrow twitching up at his attitude. "You're a Lycan now," she said, getting straight to the point. "I'm assuming you know what that means." She lowered the cup with a soft clink to the table.

Tristan scoffed at her. "The fuck I am," he shot back at her. "You told me I'd end up dead. I didn't do anything that would have ended up turning me-" he paused, his eyes rolling up as he started to try to remember last night, but most of it was a haze.

She blinked. "You forced a kiss on me last night and cut your tongue on my fang." She worked her jaw.

He rolled his eyes sharply at that. "Yeah, I remember that more now." He didn't really want to, though. Great. "Well, I guess that solves that. Great. So now what? Strolls under full moons then? Might eat the neighbor's cat or something?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's what you think we do?" she scoffed and rolled her eyes. She sat back in the chair and toyed with the coffee cup. "You'll be able to shift whenever you want. We're not controlled by the moon cycles. And you could eat the neighbor's cat, doesn't mean you'd enjoy it."

"Noted. I'll make sure I get shit faced the next time I want a night of fun if I can just do it on command." He bounced back at her. She wasn't going to just sass him without consequence. "I don't know what the hell you do, baby cakes, I just know I don't want to be rolling naked in the mud by the next morning. Why are you so concerned as to stick around anyway? Drinking my damn coffee." That was expensive coffee grounds too.

"I'm a bartender." She told him. She sighed and got up to take her cup to the sink.

"Ah, my bad. I missed the bit where bar and tender means sitting your plump ass in my chair and sipping on my coffee like you're some Brit with their tea and biscuits or whatever the hell they eat."

"First off, I stayed because you could have died last night. There was no guarantee you would have survived turning. I needed to be here in case anything happened. And to explain to you what you are. Second-"

"I'm going to have to just stop you right there." He cut her off. He laughed, covering his face before laughing hoarsely again. "So, let me get this straight. You, this pretty little sweet bartender who's knocked me out, used my cash on her whim and got my car impounded because she took it upon herself to be so troublesome before, is donning the mantle of dark instructor of the 'Lycan' or whatever it is you call yourself?" He laughed harder. "You're out of your gourd if you think I'm going to just take that-" he was laughing so hard, he was almost in tears. "Fucking hell. This girl." Tristan wiped a few years from his eyes, blinking as he stared up at the ceiling.

"What are you planning on doing then?" She asked, crossing her arms to stare at him. She was so glad he thought this was funny, because she was pissed. She was trying to do the right thing to, by not abandoning him, but this cocky little…

"Whatever the hell I want sweet cheeks, so keep your little nosey ass on your side of the fence." He looked down at his hand then and his brows rose, a curious thought hitting him. This could be advantageous. It'd make killing that mother-fucker ten times easier.

"I'd love to! But because I turned you- I can't just leave you to do God knows what."

"Says who? You?" He arched a brow at her. "Look. I don't need some puny blonde or whatever riding my ass about the do's and don'ts. Unfortunately for you, the only riding I'm ever going to allow is probably something I'm sure you're too afraid to admit you want." He glanced her up and down then.

She huffed out a hard breath and rubbed her forehead. "You realize it was your advancement that put you in this position right?" She turned glowing blue eyes on him.

"Oh, I'm perfectly aware. I have a sentient brain doll, I can put two and two together. This works in my favor. I'm hardly perturbed. What are you fretting about? Unless you wanted to continue that kiss…" he smirked at her.

"No! I'm just- I don't know why you keep making passes." She held her hand up. "Don't-"

"Because it's hot to see you pissed, trying to act tough. Look, your eyes are even glowing like you're going to burn a hole in my soul." He licked his lips carefully, watching her. She was grabbing his attention, but probably not the way she wanted.

And he did anyway… "If only." She sighed and pushed her hair to the other side of her face. "I'll help get your car out of the yard, and-" God what else was she going to do? How was she supposed to do this? "Help you learn to shift and tell you whatever you want to know. Then I'll be out of your hair."

"Mm, see– You say that, but I'm not sure I'm entirely sold." He was scratching at his beard and then running his hand around his mouth. "I don't care about the second bit, but I am curious how you put my ass to sleep like you did last night. What was that about?" He didn't really care to learn to 'shift' or whatever it was she was talking about. He assumed she meant turn into a werewolf, but he wasn't sure when he'd ever need that.

"I'm your sire. I have a level of control over you. You literally asked me to knock you out." She watched him, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes lit up, a toothy grin spreading between his lips. "Yeah, I'm not sure I like the sounds of that." He pushed himself up off the fridge, tossing the half eaten and uneaten bread slices on the counter to walk up to her. "I'm not exactly keen on the idea of a tiny little babe like you wielding power and control over me at the flick of the tongue." He stepped up to her then, cornering her against his counter. "Why should I trust you not to take advantage of that?" She was a perfect stranger to him.

"I understand why you wouldn't trust me. I have no interest in controlling you though. I'm not a vampire… I don't need a mindless thrall doing whatever I want." She pushed against his chest. "Don't. I have two older brothers. I'll lay your ass out without having to command you."

He didn't budge. He was staring down at her with curious eyes and that devilish smirk that was enhanced by his lengthened canines. "You mean like the last cheapshot you planted on my jaw?"

She arched her brow at him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Cheap?"

"I mean, come on. Only women and losers make passes like that. You think I'm scared?"

"You were surprised I would punch you after the comment you made? Not my fault you underestimated my strength." Her arms crossed again.

"You hit me, clacked my teeth together -thankfully I didn't break any - and you want to justify that? Baby girl, if you wanted to wrestle and fight me. All you needed to do was jump on my lap and I would have let you do whatever you wanted."

She grit her teeth hearing him. "You self-centered- Oh!" She shoved him away from her. "Quit pushing. Quit being a vulgar prick."

He let her push him back this time, but he only adjusted himself with a step off her. "I'm self-centered? Ha! You were the one who rolled up at me with that little fucking attitude of yours at the bar. You want me to not be vulgar, then don't pretend you're willing to get down and dirty with the boys. You're clearly not. If you want to be treated like a lady, fix that little scowl on your face and correct your mannerisms." He shot back.

She raised her brows. "It's not about getting 'dirty with the boys'. I'll hold my own in a scrap any day. Tell me you, you tell 'the boys' to ride your dick too?"

He smirked, unable to refrain from the laughter that spilled out of his mouth. "Your brothers must baby you a lot. I can tell. You have no idea what kinds of guys are out there if you're fretting over a few 'vulgar' words."

She growled at him. "Maybe you'd be more enticing if you didn't talk like that." She shoved at him.

"God, you're violent." He grabbed her wrists to stop her. "Why don't you just admit it? You don't know how to feel comfortable being a woman. Being pretty and vulnerable without all the malice and bite."

"Don't fucking corner me and I won't be." She growled, ripping her wrist back.

He let her go, watching her twist free and he put his hands up. He didn't roll his eyes for once, though. "Or you could just be nice without being such a bitch and I might feel more inclined to. Honestly," he scoffed.

"I was being nice! You woke up being fucking shitty."

That was agreeable. He nodded to that. "Fair enough. I did, but I guess being reminded my shit is impounded after barely remembering my trip home kind of has that kind of impact on a person. But I'll shoulder that burden because I know you won't."

"I just told you I'd help you!" She took a breath and turned to walk out of the kitchen.

He watched her go. Tristan tapped his finger on his arm slowly. "You want to make up for this? You want to make this less of a shit show for yourself?" he called after her, seeing how far she was going to go.

She turned to look at him, her arms crossed. She cocked her head to the side ready to hear what he was going to say. She'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wouldn't make another pass or be a shit for once.

"Go with me, right now, to pick up my car. And you can teach me whatever it is your heart desires to satisfy your needs of being my whatever you call it, and then you butt out of my personal affairs and we can amicably both part ways. I won't make you responsible for me" he put his hand against his chest "or whatever I do with myself and you won't have to chase me out into the side alley of your work. Deal? And I'll be nicer to you, okay, babygirl?"

"Deal." That wasn't bad. That was honestly what she wanted anyway. "Ready to go when you are."

He stared at her, holding his hand out. "Shake on it," he added, a brow twitching up. He wasn't letting her off that easily. Watching her squirm a little did bring him a bit of joy.

She rolled her eyes and took his hand to shake on it.

"Atta' girl," he laughed. "Not so bad, now is it?" He shook her hand and let her go then.

She pulled her hand back. "Is it?" She quipped back.

"I think so. You're cuter that way." He walked to his bedroom. "Now, if you don't mind me. I'm changing out of my clothes. So… no peeking." He wagged a finger at her before going into his room, shutting the door behind him.

She rolled her eyes again and went to sit on the couch and wait for him.

Tristan shrugged a dark green v-neck t-shirt on, a fresh jacket and dark blue straight leg jeans. He was pretty happy to not be smelling like sweat before he came padding out of the room shrugging on one sock after the next. When they were on, he was musing his hair back, the thick waves of deep auburn and browns flopping back over his forehead. "I'm ready," he told her as he opened his coat closet to yank out a black waterproof jacket. The inner lining was plush and soft, making him relax a bit more before he fished his keys from his pockets to swap them into his coat.

Hailey stood up, and looked down. This is going to look great. She was still in her clothes from last night. Black skirt and black tank with fishnet sleeves. Oh well. "Alright," she sighed, heading for the door.

He glanced at her, pausing. “Do you want to borrow some clothes?” he asked, hanging back as she walked past him. He could tell from the look on her face that she was contemplating probably the very same thing he had after last night.

"Can I just borrow a jacket?" she asked.

Tristan stared at her, raising a brow. “What’s your size? I might still have some clothes left over from my little brother that would fit you better. And you can keep them, I won’t need them back.” Nor would his brother. He was dead so…

"It's okay," she said. She didn't know how to feel about wearing some strangers' clothes.

“Better they get use anyway, it’s not like he needs them anymore. It’s an open ended offer, take it or leave it,” he sighed, stepping back to go into the closet. “He’s dead, so… You don’t have to feel bad about taking anything. He can’t use them where he went,” he explained, the inflection in his voice flat.

Hailey blinked at how blunt he was. "I'm sorry," she frowned. Wearing a dead strangers' clothes didn't make it better.

“It’s fine. Most of it was new anyway,” he mumbled, his lip tugging up at the end as the growing disappointment hit his voice and features. “Most of it was meant for his birthday, but eh… Shit happens I guess.” Not really. His own internal thoughts pushed, but he wasn’t trying to sound vulnerable.

She watched him, seeing the hurt and looked away. "I-If you think they'd fit," she said quietly. She wasn't going to argue.

“Come back this way then,” he told her, shutting the closet door. “I’ll get you a fresh jacket after.” He turned, walking back through the living room to the second door beside his bedroom door that he had entered into earlier to open it. The room was largely untouched, a little messy here and there with a desktop sitting on the far right, a bed on the left sandwiched up against the closet’s sliding door that was left open and four boxes sitting on the bed. “There’s long sleeves in the larger box,” he told her, going into the room to untie the box. The bit of dust settled on the top of it whipping up into the air. “And if I remember right, there’s jeans…” He tugged the shirts out and laid them neatly beside the box. A maroon long sleeve shirt with streaks of neat rows of tightly knitted fabric sat on top of a black and orange shirt. He dug out the black skinny jeans on the bottom and tossed them up on the shirt then looked over to the other bag to rip the wrapping paper off it and toss down the black crew neck shirts. “Take your pick, whatever works. Whatever you like. I’m tossing the rest in the trash when I get back to it anyway.” He pulled back. “I’ll give you a minute,” he told her before walking back to the door.

She watched him, feeling the cold detachedness as he sorted through the clothes. She waited for the door to close before she took the skinny jeans to pull them on. Surprisingly they fit. Happy with that she pulled the skirt off before shifting through the box of long sleeve shirts for the smallest one she could find. It was faded black, almost to the point it looked gray. She pulled her tank top off, the fishnet bunching and making her hair staticky. She slipped the shirt on, liking the feel of the cool fabric. There were holes in the bottom of the sleeves and she let her thumbs slip into them. This would work. She slipped her shoes back on and walked out. "Thanks. They actually fit pretty good."

“They ought to, you both looked about the same size,” Tristan told her. “Honestly,” he breathed, yanking open the closet. “You’re lucky he was a pretty lanky kid. Otherwise you’d be swimming in anything closer to my size.” A boy Ryan’s size, as thin as narrow as he was, barely made it into a medium, but then again… He was barely seventeen. “Agh,” he sighed in frustration, trying not to get all tied up about it as he let a heavy sigh rip from his mouth before tugging out a jacket. He was ripping the tags off it and turning to toss it gently at her. “And there’s a jacket. Good?” he asked.

She caught it and nodded. "Yeah." She slipped it on quickly, before going back to the kitchen table to grab her keys. "Ready."

“Good enough,” Tristan told her with a cold detachedness that seemed to have overtaken his mood. He slipped out the door, holding it open as the crisp morning air bit at his face and stung his ears. Birds were chirping in the distance and he made a rather distasteful grimace at the sound. I fucking hate mornings. He wished it was the afternoon, the evening even. Anything but the mornings, but he had always hated them.

A Cold Afternoon

“That’ll be four-hundred, eight-seven dollars and twenty-six cents.”

“Fucking scammers,” he growled, pulling his wallet out to flick through for his bills and card.

"Here," Hailey said, handing the person behind the counter her card.

“Thank you,” the cashier told her. “Do you want your receipt?”

"Yeah."

“Sure, give me a minute and I’ll get you that once this prints up.”

Tristan stood off to the side, staring at the yard as he waited for them to bring forward his car. “I hate these places, these fuckers don’t give a good god damn about anyone’s shit.” He was curious if he’d even be able to drive his shit box out of here.

Hailey took the receipt and folded it up, putting it in the pocket of the jacket. "I don't see why they would."

He perked up at the sound of machinery past the wire fence, the green bands weaving through it obscured his view and he was tempted to pluck out a few to see as the fence slid open and a forklift was driving his car out, then laying it down before him. He was working his jaw, staring at it. The bumper was hanging off on the rear, his seat belt tied around the steering wheel still and he walked up to it, yanking the driver door open to unwrap the damn thing.

“You’re going to need a tow,” the driver of the fork lift told him.

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t need,” Tristan shot back, sticking his key into the ignition before trying to start it. As soon as the car cranked over, he was slipping into the busted up seat, the stuffing coming out of it to check the center console. He stopped, turning to lean his head back out of the doorway. “Where’s my money clip?”

“What?”

“Where’s my– You know what, fuck you. Piss of man.” He slammed the door shut and tried to get it to go while rolling down the window, but the moment he put it into drive, he heard an awful whirring noise that made him stop. He tried to give it gas again, but the transmission just kept screaming till he banged his head on the steering wheel. He could hear the forklift driver going back into the yard. “It’s fucking all wheel drive, morons! You- My…” He gave up. Now what was he going to drive? He’d have to call a tow truck to drive his car. He rolled his eyes before glancing over at Hailey. “You’re getting to be more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” he smarted off at her.

Hailey sighed. She couldn't believe she just spent four-hundred dollars on this piece of shit. They'd have gotten more scrapping the damn thing. "Yeah, right. Scrap it and take the cash."

“No!” He told her stubbornly. “These motherfuckers can kiss my fat ass. They took two-hundred dollars from me, scammed me out of what was left in the form of this… this fucking fee! And they disabled my car because some jackwad can’t operate a tow truck and read ALL WHEEL DRIVE on the back of my fucking trunk!” He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel before turning it off to get out.

"I'll give you two-hundred to leave it," she told him. She understood his frustration, but…

“It’s my car,” he quipped back at her.

"It's not much of anything right now. I'm sorry-"

“Look,” he smiled at her. “I don’t know how you’ve got money pouring out of your ears to be just flaunting six to seven hundred dollars without batting an eye, but unfortunately for people like me, that kind of cash doesn’t come forth in a fortnight.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’ll call my buddy to come- no… Fuck, he doesn’t have his truck anymore. I’ll just pay for it to be taken to my friend’s shop. They’ll come pick it up.”

“You can’t leave that here!” the cashier hollered at him.

“I know that!” He shot back. He turned, going back to lean through the window to turn the car on and shove it into neutral before he started to push it down the road. “Fucking bitch.” He rolled his eyes. “If you could just drive me back to my house. I’ll figure out the rest on my own.”

She deflated watching him. "Alright." She put him in this position and she was trying to make up for it. She shoved her hair back out of her face and scratched her head. "I can help," she offered. "I didn't know they'd do this," she frowned.

“Just, let me brood,” he told her. “Before I say something mean.” He sighed, pushing it a few feet further off to the side, then pushing the car back into park despite it trying to roll away on him on the small start of the slope.

"My brother is a mechanic. If we can get it to him then hopefully he can at least get it running," she offered.

“Deal.” He’d take it. Honestly. As he opened the door, he rolled the windows up and pulled the key to look at her then. “And I’ll split the cost of the parts or whatever.” It wasn’t entirely her fault. It’s not like she knew he drove there, let alone what would happen to his car. He felt his stomach rumble, making him wince. “Can we stop for lunch?” He was losing the will to be rigid with her and the high of playing verbal sparring with her was quickly petering out of him.

"Yeah." She started walking back to her car with him. She had no intention of letting him pay. She did literally flip his world upside down… even though it was his fault for kissing her. She unlocked the car and slid into the driver's seat, yawning. Damn she was tired.

Tristan climbed into the passenger seat, sitting down to snap a photo of his car, texting his friend. “I’ll have them take it to my friend’s shop in the meantime. Let me know when your brother can get it and we’ll move it again…”

"Tell them to take it to-" she told him the address. "There's no sense dragging the thing all over creation."

He smiled a little at her choice of words, glancing over at her after typing the address in and sending the message as he tugged the seatbelt on, then leaned against the armrest that was inlaid into the door. “You’re right.” He glanced ahead. “So… What do you want to eat for lunch?”

A nap. "Anything. Just tell me where to go." She said pulling out of the parking lot.

Tristan raised a brow as he stared out the passenger window. “Drive like you’re going back to my place. There’s a convenience store near there. We’ll stop there and then… whatever they have will suffice.”

She didn't have the energy to argue, but she'd hoped he'd pick at least a restaurant. "Fine." She started back towards his place, seeing the store and pulled in. She took a deep breath. "You- sure you don't want actual food?" she asked.

“I asked you what you wanted. Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, blinking as he turned to look at her in disbelief. She really was being that kind of chick right now, wasn’t she?

"Just asking- fuck." She got out of the car, shutting the door harder than she intended before walking towards the entrance.

He rolled his eyes, sitting in the car as he crossed his arms, waiting for her to stop. He wasn’t getting out, not when she was going to act like that. They should have just got what she wanted and now he was adamant to have her voice that instead of being pissed for not getting it when he asked.

She turned when he didn't get out and felt anger rise in her. She went back to the car and opened her door to look at him. "Not hungry anymore?"

“No. I’m hungry. I’m just not going to play this merry go round game. Get in and go where you want to eat. I’ll eat whatever. I literally asked you because I wanted to give you the option to pick. It’s morning time.”

She let out a breath, her nostrils flaring.

“Breathe.” Tristan told her, staring at her with half lidded eyes. “Baby girl, there’s no need to get heated. It’s just fucking breakfast. Let’s go where you want.”

"I'm not the one who said they were hungry. I'm not even fucking hungry! I'm fucking tired so for fucks sake pick a damn place."

“Then why are you getting huffy with me?” he asked her, putting his hands up. “I literally picked a place on the way back and now you’re griping at me. You were the one asking me like I was going to second guess myself. Come on? Mixed signals much?” he scoffed. “Do you do this with your brothers, too?”

"I hope you choke on your food." She growled, getting back in to start the car.

He rolled his eyes at her comment, letting it go. “Thank you!” he breathed, exasperated enough but happy she was finally taking some sort of initiative. “God. You need a nap.”

She gripped the steering wheel so tight it groaned. You think! "Just… don't." She sighed, driving back down the street to a fast food place. She'd thought about taking him to some place better, but she was too tired. "What do you want?"

“Coffee. Donuts. Simple stuff.” He wasn’t going to bore her with the bit about how he hated complex foods for breakfast, but that was why the convenience store sounded so nice. “If the donuts are small, get like half a dozen or whatever.” He leaned his head against the window, staring out it. The moment he got back, he was hoping she just plopped down on some surface and slept. Maybe she’d be less of a crab after a few hours of rest.

Fucking donuts! She started for the donut shop on the corner and aptly decided to go through the drive through. She ordered half a dozen mixed, and paid. She handed the box to him as she pulled away, yawning.

“Thanks,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment as he held the box in his lap. He looked down at it slowly, opening it to pull one out. “You want one?” he asked gently.

"I'm okay," she said, trying to remember how to get back to his house.

He touched it to his lips, holding back a sigh as he looked away. “I’ll leave you some anyway,” he breathed, taking a bit of the one he had after closing the box. “Oh, and thank you for these.”

"Welcome," she said. She found the street and pulled up in front of the house, yawning again as she got out. Damn… it's not like she wasn't used to being up late…

Tristan waited for her for a moment, glancing over as he licked the finished donut from his fingertips. “You all good?” he asked. She seemed like her energy levels had dropped significantly.

"I'm fine. Just tired," she sighed. She took a deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Then let’s go inside and you can take whatever spot you want to sleep. I have a whole second bed, a couch. You pick,” he told her as he got out.

She nodded, and turned the car off. "I need to call my brother first though." Couldn't have some random car showing up at his place. She pulled her phone from the center console flipping through to her brother's number.

“Sure, I’ll give you a minute to call him,” he sighed, walking away to the door to unlock it. Honestly, he was thirsty as hell and he really just wanted to watch TV for a bit then figure out how he was going to find that idiot, Laurence.

She watched him go inside and called Cole. "Pick up…" she sighed.

“Hey, thanks for calling. I’m probably sleeping or at work. If it’s urgent, text me. Thanks!” Beep.

"Cole… please call me back. There's a car being sent to you. I-" she took a breath. "I need it fixed. Appreciate it." She hung up and got out of the car, slipping the phone into the coat pocket. She locked her car and went inside. She was too tired to care how awkward it was walking into a stranger’s house. She went to the couch and immediately curled up on her side.

Tristan turned from the kitchen table, another donut caught between his lips as he watched her and snorted to himself. So this was it, huh? He was stuck with this bartender, this little tomboy of a woman and she was just sauntering up to his couch without a care in the world. “Look at that,” he muttered, wondering how he’d manage to figure out his own situation with someone like her around. It felt… a little less lonely, though. And he was nodding to himself, chewing on the glazed bread quietly before turning to the kitchen to wash his hands. He didn’t want to make the couch sticky. Heading back into the living room, Tristan stared at her for a moment, then - remembering their prior conversations - made sure to be careful not to touch her before pulling the fold out bed from under the couch’s cushions. Sure, it was a bit more like a twin than anything, but it worked. “Hey,” he started, not sure what else to call her. “Lay on this and I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.”

She didn't argue, just tiredly unfolding herself to lay down on the little bed, curling up again. She didn't say anything before falling asleep.

Tristan leaned back, looking down at her as his eyes flicked up to his bedroom door. He was hosting a strange woman he met twice at a bar in his house. He laughed to himself under his breath as he stood up to go to his room, going into the closet to drag out his winter comforter and the spare pillow he always ended up tossing off his bed. When he re-emerged into the living room, he set the pillow down beside her in case she stirred enough to grab it before laying the blanket out on her small form. “Guess we’ll see how quick you’re in and out of my life,” he snorted to himself, rolling his eyes. He had a whole person to catch. Fucking asshole, wherever he was, but first… First, he’d have to settle in with figuring out how he’d get through all this with her. And, honestly, after today. He wasn’t too sure it was going to be all that bad. She was kind of fun.

Turning his head, he glanced at the door, seeing it cracked open and walked up to it, shutting it and locking it before going back into the kitchen to make himself a coffee.