Wanted

•Odaxelagnia•

     {•Unedited•}

Odaxelagnia (n.)- Sexual arousal from biting or being bitten.
                            ~Bex's POV~

      Thank god for the three day weekend because I wouldn't of been able to make it to class. I spent Saturday morning cleaning the mess the cops made when they did their little raid. My mom wasn't as much as hell as she thinks she was. All her movements were lazy or tense, so eventually I just told her to lay down. I've never heard someone cry so loud in my life. It hurt my heart, but I know better from being younger that it's better to just let her stay to herself when like that.
    Alaric called his mom, but they're conversation was very short. My dad hasn't called and neither has Castel. He said on the phone that they hadn't told them anything about their situation; it's been three days, by law, they should know even the smallest bit of information.
     "My dad said it was best if I stayed back for a few days. I decided two was enough," Connie says, sitting down on my bed. We've had so many memories created in here together. This is where she told me she had her first kiss, where I told her Pablo first asked me out and I said yes so happily. Where she slept through her first hangover because she was too scared to go home, where we had our first "lesbian" kiss because we were bored and were curious. Now we're here because my piece of shit ex boyfriend did the ultimate betrayal.
   "I wanna die."
   "Honestly, same, but the Gravedigger has been on hold for the longest time. Tell me if he answers you." I wasn't expecting her to take it seriously and I'm not sure if I should myself. The longing is definitely there and the devil is speaking me on one shoulder that it's better to take myself out before another bad thing happens, but that mother fucking Angel reels be back in and keeps her here.
    "I'm so confused, Connie," I say, tears stinging in the back of my eyes again. Yesterday I didn't cry, I didn't because I didn't want to waste my tears when I knew I would cry today talking to her. I'm not trying to dehydrate myself from crying. I missed talking to her, whether it be on terms like these or just to have a fun conversation. She makes it easy.
    "You haven't told me what happened. You sent me a quick text saying you guys broke up again and that was it," she says, her voice getting low. I remember when we were younger she had such a high pitched voice that even if she was trying to show sympathy to someone, every time she would talk to the person it would sound like she was excited. You would have thought the girl was going to Disney land, not asking someone who got hit off their skateboard if they're okay.
    "I hardly remember what I told you," I say, running my eyes. The past three days have been crazy, my mind messier than my hair. I've been in a state of brain fog, but also thinking way too much. "They did a raid on the house on Friday evening at my parents dinner. You know my dad, Castel, and Alaric got arrested. He helped it happen, he knew it was coming and didn't warn me. He used me for information and a way to get closer access. It was never love like it was for me."
There isn't a way to explain her expression. It's one of those where they don't know what to say so they just look at you until you decide to speak again or they'll eventually mumble "I don't know" to avoid anything awkward being said again. She's good at handling other's emotional baggage, but I've never liked throwing mine at her.
"You never know; he could have loved you despite what he did," she says. My brows raise. I know I wouldn't of been this mad if he had warned me that this was happening or even if he had told me he was involved a long time ago. "People can love someone and still make stupid mistakes. My dad has an affair, twice actually, and I don't doubt for a second that he loves my mom. People fuck up." I can't tell if she's trying to help him or not.
"Well this is a fuck up he can't come back from. Not when it costed me family." The door swings open, Zav bursting through the door breathlessly. His chest heaves up and down heavily, sweat beading his forehead. It's not hot at all outside and he keeps his car a damn freezer even in the cold, so why the hell is he sweating?
"Please tell me you know this man," Connie says, pointing a finger at him. He gives her a kind, tired smile.
"You, you should have called the moment shit went down and I could have killed him. Like...brutally murdered the son of a bitch." I sit up straighter, pulling the blankets up further. I'm happy they're so thick, it makes me feel better somehow.
"I needed some time for myself after everything," I tell him. He nods in understanding, leaning against the doorframe. The muscles in his biceps pulse out of the tight t-shirt sleeves. "Why are you sweaty and breathless?" It's a sexy look on him, but it's raising some concern.
"I left home at one, got here and had to park far down the block because one of your neighbors is having a party with a really cool looking jolly jumper, so I ran the rest of the way here."
"Why?"
"I don't know, because your voice was cracking and shit on the phone. Screw three hours, I made it here in one," he says. If I wasn't in the emotional state that I'm in now, I probably would have found it funny.
"So are you gonna introduce me to your friend?" Connie says, elbowing me in the side with wide eyes. I shout a glare at her.
"This is the baby daddy."
"Well holy freaking shit. You're one dumb bitch, Bex," She says, losing her filter. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth. "S-should I leave you two alone?"
"Please," he says. He has that fucking look in his eye. Don't leave. Don't fucking leave.
"Actually, I really need you right now. If you leave the room, I might cry so much again I'll dye of...lack of tears."
"Hun, don't be dumber than you already are." She gets off the bed, stealing a very obvious glance at Zav's face on the way out. He walks further in the room, closing and locking it. Fuck me...literally. I bring the covers up to my shoulders, laying back down with just my head showing. He gives me a soft smile, his hands tucked into the depths of his pockets.
"I like her. She seems like she has a fun personality," he says. I nod, resting my hands in my stomach. Why does he always catch me when I look terrible? I would rather him see the fake me every once in a while.
"She does. We've been friends since we were little," I tell him. He leans off the wall and comes over to the bed, sitting down on the edge next to me. I look up at him nervously, debating if I should just say "fuck it" and suffocate myself with the blanket. Reaching a hand out, he brushes a stand of my hair back from my face, looking into my eyes.
"I will kill him if that's what you want," he says.
"He's your brother," I tell him. "You can't do that." I know he would never actually even aim a gun at Atticus; his heart is too big. Any other random person and I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. He has a soft spot for certain people only; it's my favorite thing about him.
"You're right. I'll use a grenade to kill him. A gun won't do enough; the man is built too much like a building," he says. I giggle, feeling the corners of my mouth tilt up into a smile. It's small, but there and I'm happy for that. It feels like I haven't smiled in ages when it's only been three days.
I wonder what's going on. Have any of the officers told them what's going to happen? How long will they be in for? Is Alaric okay? He's the last person who should be in there; he always does what others tell him and this was never his choice.
"Listen, I still don't know how to deal with women during a break up. Ice scream and a movie with you lead to us becoming parents, so we're not doing that again. Would you like to go on a drive by? Get Chinese?" His variety of choices I have to "cheer me up" makes me laugh again.
"I just wanna sleep. Thank you, though," I say, sitting to kiss his cheek. His cheeks flush pink, visibly fighting off a smile. My stomach swarms with butterflies. It's weird seeing the affect you have on another person and not understand it at all.
"I was kidding, the ice cream and movie is always, and I mean always, on the table." My cheeks heat up, my breath getting caught in my throat.
"I'm sorry you're always around when I look like shit," I say with a chuckle. He shakes his head at me.
"I think you look beautiful as ever. In my mind, you're supposed to be barefoot and bedridden just from being pregnant, so this is more than perfect," he says, gesturing to me at the end. Bedridden? How bad does he think the average pregnancy is? "Where's your mom at?" He asks. I point in the direction of the backyard, but I'm really pointing at my closet. He'll get the point. I wrap my arms around myself, putting my head on my knees the blanket falls off me. I'm only in a thin bralette and shorts, but I don't care at the moment. I'm comfortable, OKAY?! He places his hand on my back. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I should have suspected something like this. Atticus is a cop, I'm the descendent of a bunch of criminals; something like this was bound to happen. I was just hoping it wouldn't." He pulls me to his side, out position slightly awkward by the way I'm placed at his side and back. I straighten up, resting my head on his shoulder. "Fuck the police."
"You did."
"Not the time, Zavian." He tilts my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye. I inhale a sharp breath, knowing what's most likely gonna happen. There's no point in trying to stop it from happening when there's nothing holding us back. The moment his lips meet mine for the first time in a month I can feel my whole body release all its tension, my body practically melting. How does a person have such an affect? I'll never know.
I move up onto my knees, glancing at the door to make sure it's locked. His arms wrap around me, calloused hands resting at my mid-back. Soft creases on my spine are traces with the rough pad of his thumb. My hair falls all to one side, staying out of the way for once. No joke, debating cutting it.