"You done being gross?" Kira sneered, already sitting amongst a pile of scattered blankets and pillows on the basement floor.
"No."
I turned as if to make for the stairs again, but twisted back to inspect the room instead.
It looked as if she'd bought extra cushions and blankets specifically for the occasion - all in creams, whites, blacks and with various striped or chevron patterns. A large theater-like projector screen spanned the far-wall. Before it sat a gigantic sectional lost in an excess of pillows and blankets, and a wall of bookshelves filled with movies behind that.
A large pool table sprawled beneath a sleek modern chandelier in the back area beside the movie collection, but it was clear where our designated area was meant to be. Something that sounded like a top-forties playlist thumped lightly in the background of it all.
"Alright, so, I have an itinerary, but it's cool if we don't follow it," Kira explained then tilted her head back and forth, "But also I kind of want to do everything on the list so if we don't get to everything tonight we have to have another sleepover."
"Well I didn't come to a sleepover to sleep," I joked.
"First things first," Anne demanded, "Matching silk pajamas. I made them so you have to wear them."
Despite the claim that they were matching, they were all different colors ranging from pastel pinks, to rosy coral, to warm purples. The little white embroidery on the breast pocket and folded cuffs of the sleeves, was identical, however.
"You made them?" Cat gasped.
Anne nodded, her chest swelling with pride. Kira yanked off her top and tossed it to the side, her little hands reaching for the set Anne threw her way.
"I'll use the restroom," Cat said as Allie promptly followed Kira's lead.
"The door to the left there," Anne pointed, handing her a set.
I nipped my lower lip, a hand hovering over my stomach where the family crest was tattooed above my hip-bone.
"You alright, Sara?" Allie asked, tugging on the bottoms.
"I'll wait for the restroom."
"Suit yourself," she shrugged, then did a double-take, "That's not any kind of attitude to have; didn't you promise me that you'd go skinny-dipping this summer?"
"I'm working up to it," I said simply, waving a hand.
"Sara's got a lot to work on," Kira chittered smugly, "But she's made significant romantic progress."
Allie rounded.
"You didn't tell me again?!"
"It only just happened today!"
"If she doesn't want it to be your business, Allie, then it isn't," Cat chastised gently, leaving the bathroom light on for me.
I gave Cat an appreciative smile as I passed, changing quickly into the pajamas. The silk was smooth and cool against my skin. The cut of the long-sleeve button-down flattered at the waist but the shorts rode a little high.
"What's on the itinerary?" I asked Kira as I emerged.
"So we have," Kira whipped out a folded piece of colorful cardstock. Allie raised her eyebrows, but scrambled to read over Kira's shoulder all the same. "Mani-pedis, make a blanket-and-pillow fort, a matching pajamas photoshoot-"
"A... photoshoot?" Cat echoed.
"Yes, Claire loves photography," Anne seconded, arms crossed and businesslike as she nodded along to the list, "And I didn't make these pajamas for nothing."
"Should I put on makeup?" Allie fretted.
"No, no," Kira shook her head, "Done-up nails make sense but makeup is too out-of-vibe for a sleepover shoot."
"Are sleepover photo shoots a common thing?" I wondered skeptically.
Maybe they were an American thing.
"Ah, well, photos are normal," Cat clarified politely, but her voice pitched an octave high.
"Moving on," Kira said in a sing-song voice, "We have 'Truth or Dare' or 'Never Have I Ever' or both... with the aid of some alcohol if anyone is interested."
"Mrs. Warde is just upstairs," Catalina whispered, alarmed.
"Oh, Mom just prefers that we drink supervised rather than unsupervised."
"What is there to drink?" Allie pestered, leaning forward and fisting a pillow in her fingers with excitement.
"Pretty much anything," Anne said, standing, "We can start out with boxed Rose if you want."
Fingers on my lower lip, I tapped contemplatively; as much as I'd like Amaretto either mixed or straight, that might be beyond the knowledge of a high schooler. I dialed it back.
"Any Moscato?" I asked, settling on a lavender-cased pillow and pulling a fuzzy white throw over my legs.
Anne disappeared up the stairs as Cat watched after her, anxious.
"Seriously, Cat, you don't need to have any," I reassured her and she pursed her lips, "Just as long as you're honest with your party-game answers, we're good, alright?"
She nodded.
"But this is the best environment to try it out," Allie pointed out, "Safer than at the parties."
"Kira and I can be dedicated sober sisters," Anne suggested, setting the boxed wine and some long-stemmed glasses on the end-table, "Drinking in your own house is hardly fun anyway."
She poured into a few of the glasses and handed them out, Cat taking one hesitantly.
"Mani-pedi's first!" Kira dictated, pulling an impressive case from where it had been tucked out of sight behind the sectional.
She set out two trays and a little UV gel lamp atop it. Each was complete by unrolling a mat, a set of tools, and a little dish that Anne filled with warm water. I stared, slack-jawed, then nodded decisively, scooting forward to set my fingers on one of the tray-tables. The little tappa-tappa of my nails on the tray table tickled my ears.
"Not even flipping a coin for who goes first, huh?" Allie raised an eyebrow at me and I blushed.
"What color?"
"I want autumn colors," I instructed, examining my slightly overgrown nails, "Like, all of them. My fingernails should look like leaves on the trees; like they're about to fall off."
Kira narrowed her eyes and lifted my hand to her face, inspecting. Then, she grinned.
"That can be arranged."
"Do you have anything with holographic sparkles?" Allie wondered, glancing into the case as Anne started on her cuticles.
Cat sat beside her, watching.
"Of course we do," Anne scoffed and Kira giggled.
"Now, now, Annie, she didn't mean any offense."
Kira and Anne allowed me to paint theirs in turn, surprised by my ability. I took mild offense, but had the sense to keep my mouth shut.
My fingers glimmered with mottled coffee and amber, a gold accenting weaving across all ten digits. I wriggled my toes to inspect the sparkle that now decorated them too.
Allie admired the accent nail she'd been given; a little hand-painted autumn leaf on the ring-finger that Anne had adorned with carefully placed rhinestones. Anne watched Allie's awe, a shadow of a smirk on her lips until I caught her eye. Her lips bowed and she looked away at my grin.
"Next activity!" Kira enthused, her voice a mere squeak of excitement. "You choose!"
I clapped my hands together, "Fort!"
"Do you have a vision?" Cat asked politely.
"Big and like a circus," Kira swept her arms out wide above her head.
"Oh," I breathed, examining our starting materials and the room at large. When my gaze drifted upward, I noticed a suspicious set of freshly-drilled hooks sticking out from the ceiling. "What are those for?"
"String lights for parties or pinatas, whatever strikes our fancy."
The answer was pre-prepared. Should've known.
"They'll work great for blanket-fort," Cat decided, standing to inspect them, "It would be best to use a knit blanket as the base, something holey. And then we can use some large safety pins to attach other blankets to it and make it long enough to drape over the edges of the couch."
"I'll go get lanterns to hang from the top of the tent so we have light inside," Anne volunteered.
"You're right," I snorted, "The electricity we've got just isn't good enough."
"That doesn't fit the aesthetic," Kira pinched her fingers together on the word.
"To heck with it then, grab fairy lights, scented candles, charcuterie boards full of cheeses, jams, and crackers, champagne with matching flutes, and at least three bouquets of roses, thorns clipped."
"Do the flowers need to be roses?" Kira narrowed her eyes.
"They need to be red," I insisted.
"I'll grab what I have and see if it suits your vision," Kira enthused, standing in one jumping motion and darting excitedly for the stairs.
"What have you done?" Anne whispered.
"What was necessary."
I sipped my wine. Allie merely laughed, sifting through the blankets to find a knit-one as Cat had instructed.
With the help of an ottoman, we speared the blanket-belly upon the hooks and spanned it over the clearing within the sectional. A few large safety-pins later and some strategic draping over the sectional, the circus-tent sized blanket fort had been achieved.
"We'll definitely need better lighting for the photo shoot," Anne pondered, standing beside me with her arms crossed, inspecting. "I'll grab a few more soft-light sources. We'll also probably use the upstairs sitting area; it has excellent light, even at night."
I popped my lips skeptically, but kept quiet. Kira returned with Leo and Mason behind her. Mason's flat, unamused expression made me snort but Leo's face positively lit up at the blanket fort. Each carried a wooden crate with an assortment of items within.
"I've got a few succulents and flowers, totally had fairy lights - that's standard - and the scented candles. Leo has the food in his crate."
"No roses. I am displeased."
Mason shot me a warning glance and shook his head infinitesimally. I knew exactly what that meant.
"Kira, seriously, the vibe won't be complete without roses."
She clapped her hands together and turned to the menfolk.
"No one leaves the house past nine," a voice wafted down the stairs and Mason's shoulders visibly relaxed.
"Yes, Mother," Kira called, her tone deflated, "Now, boys, leave!"
"You're welcome," Mason mumbled pointedly and I smirked, wiggling my fingers in a teasing good-bye wave.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. I let Allie, Cat, and Kira bustle around the tent, organizing to their liking.
"You're the one who demanded the works," Anne probed.
She leaned against the entertainment center easily, like a pinup model from a classic magazine, and interrogated me with those near violet eyes.
"I'm the overseer," I said with a sip.
My second glass was reaching-empty.
"You're taking that wine down quickly."
"I'm not a lightweight."
"Can I get you anything heavier?" her voice dropped low.
I pursed my lips, trying to suppress a smirk, "An Amaretto whiskey sour?"
"On it."
She disappeared from the spot while the humans' backs were turned and reappeared to exchange my wine-glass with one she'd apparently filled elsewhere.
"Without the ice or egg white; the others might ask questions," Anne explained softly.
I swirled the cocktail in my glass, smiling softly to myself, "I'll make do. Thank you."
"C'mon in, ladies," Kira called.
She sprawled out along the back in-between two overturned wood-crates. The three of them were softly illuminated by the vines of delicately criss-crossing string lights that gently set the blankets aglow. The crates were adorned with a few bouquets of cut flowers, dancing, lit-candles, a charcuterie board each, and filled flutes of wine.
"Turn off the overhead lights on the way in, will you?"
Anne flicked the light switch as I entered.
Allie beamed ear to ear, "This is insane."
Before I sat, I whipped out my phone, "Anne, get in!"
She folded her legs seamlessly into a pretzel atop a pillow.
"Is it time for pictures?" Claire called down the steps.
"Is she listening?" Allie wondered, wrinkling her nose.
"Of course she is, " Cat replied contentedly.
"It is," I confirmed, putting my phone away.
Claire bounded down the stairs to take my job, a camera strapped to her neck. She was far more professional than I'd expected, posing us and balancing each shot effortlessly. We smiled elegantly, puckered for silly faces, and finally were brought upstairs to the sitting area, as Anne had predicted. We draped on the white sectional there with somber, vogue expressions.
"Don't smile Sara," she chastised.
"I'm not!" I protested, trying to scowl through the urge to giggle.
It was just... so absurd!
"Sara has the opposite of resting bitch-face," Allie defended with a little snicker.
A few more clicks of the shutter and we were released.
"That was the most excessive activity I've ever partaken in," I sighed, picking up my glass from where it had been set out-of-frame and downing the last of the liquor.
"But it's kinda fun, right?" Cat said, her nose scrunched and a little shy smile on her cheeks.
"Absolutely," Allie answered, picking up her own glass.
"I don't mind taking pictures or being a part of them, but..." I inspected the bottom of my glass, "How often do you get this sort of royal treatment, you know? Probably just once in a lifetime."
"What do you think ladies?" Kira flounced over after inspecting the photos. Anne was glued to Claire's shoulder, a finger pointing to the camera screen. "Same time next week?"
I gave her a flat stare.
"Can't, we've got the Talent show!" Allie refused, then brightened, "Sara is participating."
"I've been practicing," I wiggled my shoulders.
"What will you do?"
"Pay and find out!"
"I will be available," Claire supplied, pacing over, "I'll make sure Paul is off too."
Kira funneled us back into the basement, but not before my empty glass mysteriously disappeared from my fingers and reappeared filled. I giggled at it, swirling.
"Never thought I'd say this about a sleepover, but this has been rather productive," I noted, glancing at my phone as I sprawled out in the tent, "It's only... ten-thirty."
"Now it's time for the good stuff," Kira gushed, rolling up in a gray-fringe blanket to become a burrito, "'Never Have I Ever' or 'Truth or Dare'?"
"Truth or Dare!" I crowed.
"How much have you had to drink?" Cat wondered, but Allie simply raised her glass.
"I can hold myself just fine. Anne! Truth or dare?"
"Who nominated you as first?" Allie asked.
"I did, now; Truth or Dare?"
Anne lounged on her chosen cluster of pillows, a Roman goddess with her legs folded beneath her, "Truth."
I rocked onto my back, almost unable to ask the question through giggles, "Have you had sex?"
"Don't be pedestrian."
"Where's the strangest place you've had sex?" I amended.
"Getting right into it," Allie raised her glass again and the wine swirled about dangerously, "I'm a virgin so-"
"Same!" I cheered.
"No one asked for your truths!" Kira laughed.
Anne's violet eyes narrowed in contemplation, "On-stage in the auditorium after-school hours. The lights were on."
"Middle of the stage?" Allie gasped.
Anne nodded, smug.
"Allie; truth or dare?"
"Truth," Allie asked after a second.
"Since starting high school, who've you had crushes on?"
Allie flushed bright pink, "Uh, well, first Anthony Madsen, then... Mason, but now Trevor."
"I knew about Mason," I gloated.
"I told you."
I leaned and gave her a light push on her shoulder.
"Fine, Sara, Truth or Dare?"
"Dare!"
"Send Mason a spicy text."
I whipped out my phone, a maniacal smile on my lips. At completion I tossed it into the center, cheeks pinched with glee. Allie grabbed it and inspected.
"This doesn't count!"
"I followed the instructions."
"No, no-"
"Read it!" Kira demanded impatiently.
Allie rolled her eyes and read, "'Paprika, cayenne pepper, turmeric..."
"Oh come on," Anne scoffed.
"It counts! I said so. Kira; Truth or Dare?"
"Dare."
"Bite me!"
"Oh-kay," Anne raised a hand cautionarily as Kira jumped to her feet, "No, no-"
"Gimme your finger," Kira demanded, scrunching her own fingers in a beckoning command, "Gimme!"
I complied. Her brown eyes glittered and she clicked her teeth together in a little menace. I raised my eyebrows and tapped my fingers expectantly against her palm. She promptly opened her mouth and nipped the tip of my thumb. I loosed a squeal and rolled away across the pillows.
"Cat, Truth or Dare?" Kira announced, triumphant.
"Truth..."
"What's your number one 'ick' when it comes to men?"
"What's 'ick'?"
"God, sometimes I swear you're ancient, Sara," Allie snorted, "It's something that immediately turns you off from a guy."
"I'd say mine is... when he's too brooding," Cat decided thoughtfully.
"That explains why you didn't crush on Mason," Anne snickered, glancing at Allie.
"Hey!"
"This is what an 'ick' is?" I asked skeptically.
"Here's one," Allie posited, "He's a ten, but he values his Mom's opinion as an adult."
"That's an eleven, I love a man who is family-oriented," I argued.
"Same here, that's a good man," Catalina seconded.
"It could go either way; if he values his mother's opinion too much then I wouldn't like that," Anne decided.
"Eh," Kira shrugged, waving a hand and immediately posed the next question, "He's a ten, but he enjoys Nickelback."
Allie, Cat, and Anne groaned in disgust.
"Still a ten," I decided with a snap of my fingers, "We don't have to have the exact same taste in music. And headphones exist now. He's a ten, but can't help but play devil's advocate in every scenario."
"Ten," Kira and Anne said in unison as Allie shook her head.
"I love a good verbal sparring match," Anne purred.
"But that gets to be too much," Allie disagreed, "Like, all the time? Really? It's extra."
"Cat, your turn to pick someone," I prompted, waving a limp hand.
"Oh, uh, Allie!"
"Dare."
"Unlock your phone and hand it to Sara for thirty seconds."
Allie's eyes went wide.
"C'mon Allie," I crooned, beckoning for her phone.
She groaned, but relinquished it.
"Ya'll can see what I've done after I've done it," I waved off Anne and she pouted.
Trevor was my target. Obviously. I picked a very flattering selfie, a vogue-like one where she stared off into the distance. She'd even lifted a hand to run through her hair. I snickered and sent it, waited a few seconds, then followed up with a quick 'OMG, wrong person, sorry!'. I tossed the device back.
"You still have five seconds," Kira protested.
"Nah, I did good. I'm proud of that."
Allie's eyes flickered over the screen; her cheeks reddened and she tossed the unlocked device into the middle. Kira snatched it and Anne scrambled in.
"That's good," Anne said appreciatively, "That'll get him."
"He'll think I'm interested in someone else!" she wailed.
"No, this is a classic 'oops didn't mean to'," Kira explained, businesslike, "It's very clear that you meant to send that to him."
"Sara," Allie growled, narrowing her eyes, "Truth or Dare?"
"Dare."
"Go on upstairs and sit on Mason's lap."
"Are all of mine going to have to do with my boyfriend?" I sighed, heavily setting down my glass and rolling out of the fort, "Can't I be dared to sing terribly or tap-dance?"
"No way, you started us into the romance genre, you'll play along."
"Fine~" I reached for the railing of the stairs and missed the first time, "Is there a time limit for lap-sitting?"
"Good idea: five minutes!"
"Oh-kay!" I agreed, staggering out into the foyer and leaning a hand on the wall, "Hmm... Amaretto is not this strong."
I shrugged, continuing into the game room; a separate area to the sitting room separated by double-French doors. Appearing in the doorway, I leaned against the frame, sagging like a poorly-propped broom, and contemplated the pair of them.
"Hello, beautiful," Mason greeted, the ankle of one leg propped on the knee of the opposite as he relaxed against the brown-leather sofa. A faint smile played on his face and his green eyes glimmered at the sight of me. "How may I help you?"
Leo scoffed.
"I know you've been listening."
"I don't know that I quite caught that last dare."
I huffed, "I've been instructed to sit on your lap."
"Feel free to tell Annie that she needs to give me a handie for a dare," Leo piped up eagerly as I unsteadily crossed the room.
Mason settled his feet firmly on the floor and moved to the front of the couch, "You can watch Leo fail at this level again with me."
I didn't spare the television a single glance.
"No," I said decidedly and clambered onto him. Legs wide across his lap, I pushed him against the backrest so that my hips seated firmly over his. "I believe this is more in-line with the spirit of the dare."
Mason swallowed, his hands frozen and hovering midair over my waist. I grabbed his wrists and planted his palms firmly onto the upper curve of my hips.
"Have you enjoyed eavesdropping?"
His lips pressed into an unreadable line.
"Truth or dare?" I insisted.
"Dare," he said automatically, then winced slightly.
"Hold my waist underneath my shirt," I ordered.
He let out a breath, but found the hem and slid his hands beneath. His cool skin found the curve of my waist once more and his fingers flexed gently, a small squeeze. Yes, they were chilly, but not nearly as chilly as I remembered...
"Truth or dare?" he asked.
"Truth."
"Why do you like Amaretto sour?"
"It's sweet," I breathed, rolling my eyes, "There's a honey liqueur that I love even more, but I don't know if it's something people usually have on-hand."
"Blow-job shots?" Leo proposed, momentarily sitting on the couch, "Annie thought that might be fun, but didn't know if she'd have any takers."
"Yeah, cream is sweet. I'd have one. But I'm very classy, I'll have you know," I pointed at him imperiously, then swung my finger around to poke Mason in the nose, "A very classy lady. I am older than you, after all. I gotta act respectable; meaning no spills."
Mason tilted up his chin to kiss the pad of my finger.
"You're older?" Leo echoed, giving up on the game for the moment and settling on the couch.
"By four years," I giggled, running a thumb over Mason's lower lip.
His breath escaped in a puff over my palm, almost making me shiver.
"Nineteen-oh-two?" Leo whispered, nose wrinkled in astonishment.
He looked between Mason's impassive face and my flushed one, his blue-eyes jittering with intrigue.
"Year of the tiger," I clawed my fingers at the air.
He whistled and nodded to Mason, "You like 'em older too, eh?"
Mason rolled his eyes.
"Truth or dare?" I demanded of my boyfriend.
"Truth."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"Anne has been using four-roses single-barrel bourbon in your Amaretto Sour. At increasing concentrations each serving. You're pretty much just drinking straight bourbon now."
"I know what bourbon is," I scoffed, pinching my knees up around his hips more securely, "And I know what it tastes like."
His jaw flexed at my movement and his green gaze flitted away for a second before he replied, "It's fifty percent alcohol by volume."
"And?"
"And you've had four glasses of it."
"Have not."
"Anne and Kira have been taking turns refilling it while you and the humans haven't been looking."
"Nuh-uh."
"What's her blood alcohol content right now, do ya think?"
"It's a whole lotta none-uh-your business."
"Over the legal limit, for certain."
"I metabolize so much faster than humans though. Rate of consuming has to seriously out-pace the rate of metabolism."
"You may have managed it," Mason congratulated with a mocking, crooked grin.
"Don't make fun of me," I growled, promptly seizing his head, and that infuriating expression, into a tight hug.
"You're a frisky drunk, ain't you?" Leo's booming laugh echoed to the high ceiling.
"I'm touchy," I corrected, noting that Mason had ceased breathing immediately, "I like touches. It's how people know I like them and how I know people like me."
"Hey, Mace, do you feel well-liked?"
Mason didn't reply, but his hands squeezed on my waist. He pulled back, easily breaking from my un-enhanced grasp and leaning far back onto the couch. All the way until his head tilted back over the spine of the sofa. His face had gone beet-red, which was to be expected, however:
"Did you like that because it was me? Or because you like breasts in particular?"
"No comment," he grumbled, eyes-closed and nose-wrinkled as the flush deepened, "The others are wondering where you've gone."
"Fine~"
I was only a few steps out of the room when I heard, "You gonna need another solo-trip to the cabin?"
~
"Allie~" I called, flat on my back and staring at the lantern hanging from the ceiling.
It cast erratic shadows on the folds of the blankets.
"Yeah?"
"Truth or truth?"
"That's not how you play."
"I'm too lazy to do dares."
"Fine... truth."
"I'm researching sex. What kind of resources are available for that nowadays?"
"You tell me."
"That's not how this works," I sighed, tilting my head to look at her and watching the world spin instead.
"What sort of research are you trying to do?" Anne asked, similarly splayed out and with a wine-glass in-hand.
She'd quickly given up on the sober thing and caught up to me. Kira had chosen to daintily sip at a glass; the only one of us four to still be sitting upright. Cat had already fallen fast asleep and I'd haphazardly thrown a blanket over her. Kira extinguished the nearby candles.
"I only have sex experience with regard to all the clinical stuff. Like, I can tell you about disorders, I can tell you about common problems, and common solutions, but I have no idea what I'd like."
"What common solutions do you know?"
"Coconut oil is a really good natural lube," I said with a shrug, "It's probably not good to use with condoms and certain people might have allergic reactions to it, but other than that... Also, it probably only works if your body temperature is normal."
"What?"
"Like if your body temperature is below normal it probably won't melt on your skin like it normally does."
"So... it won't work if we've got hypothermia... got it," Allie said skeptically.
"Noted," Anne snickered, "I like water-based lubes, myself."
"So for your question; I say you start with porn," Allie suggested.
"Eh~," I sighed skeptically, "I don't like it when they look at you all weird through the camera and stuff. Also, it seems kinda boring, right? Like you don't know what they're feeling or how they're feeling it or what emotions are involved- if any. It seems pretty sterile."
"I'd still start there if I were you. Just to see if people do anything you'd want to try."
"Smut~" Kira said simply.
"Ooh, good one," Allie lauded.
"I have books you can borrow," Anne added.
"Okay, I don't know what that is either."
"Porn through words," Allie rolled over to take another sip of wine.
"How does that work?"
"Well, there's a main character and the main character fucks."
"Usually they're written in first person," Kira qualified.
"So you can know what the people are feeling," I nodded, narrowing my eyes speculatively, "Yeah, I'd like that. Don't have much time for reading though..."
"I have audio-books."
"Fair enough," I yawned, rolling away, "What's your favorite position?"
"People are really mean about missionary," Anne mused, "But it's nice to be able to hug your partner tightly. When you start out though, you really want to be the one on top so that you can control the depth."
"That one I knew," I said, snapping my fingers lazily, "Besides, I like having control in a situation. Makes me feel better."
"Dominatrix-Sara," Allie giggled.
"I dunno if I'd go that far."
"I can definitely see it," Kira snickered.
There was a heavy, warning thump from upstairs and three of us giggled knowingly. We chatted absently back and forth; Allie was the next to fall asleep and then Anne. I breathed deeply. The dizzy alcohol-ridden sensation caused my body to lag. The sluggishness felt familiar, like dreams in which you run but go nowhere...
I was suddenly transported.
A battlefield, darkened under the wolf's-claw moon. Bodies - some struggling and interlocked in conflict, others lumped motionless - scattered across the iron-scented valley below.
I gasped, immediately coughing and choking on my own spit as I staggered for the restroom. The memories drowned me in darkness and iron blood-scent and the reek of death. It pressed upon my chest and lungs. Something cool grabbed my arm and I swatted it away. My gums burned and I loosed an uncoordinated snap of my teeth at the attacker.
"Sara," the voice was airy, light. Kira's.
She stood before me, her hands splayed cautiously in front of her. She pointed to her sheathed canines, eyes wide, then to me. I swallowed back lava-hot saliva. It returned two-fold and I scrambled for the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind me and flipping on the fan, I made it just in time to empty my stomach. Kneeling in front of the toilet, I clutched the seat and pressed my head to the heels of my hands.
The panting wouldn't quit. Memories sat simmering, boiling beneath the surface, ready to brim up if I let my guard down again. First the rushing in my ears and then, before I could feel the heat of them, tears waterfalled down my face.
"Sara," the voice was deep, soft, and steady.
Closing my eyes, I grounded myself with the sound and took a single, deep and heaving breath. The hyperventilation slowed. I flushed the toilet and moved to clean it, working methodically and spraying far too much cleaner than was strictly necessary. Eventually, a set of cool hands stayed mine.
"I smell gross," I mumbled, reaching for my toothbrush, "It tastes awful."
"Take your time."
Mason hovered close by, one hand on the small of my back as I cleansed my mouth of acidity.
"What happened?"
I pressed the hand-towel to my mouth.
"Memories got the better of me."
"Why don't you come sleep in my room?" he suggested gently, and I finally lifted my gaze to view him in the mirror. His eyes were attentive, a soft liquid-emerald as he brushed fingers through my hair. "If it happens again, you won't run the risk of waking the others."
I nodded in agreement, allowing him to lift me and carry me slowly up the stairs. His room lacked a bed, which I'd always wondered at, but he set me in the office-chair and zipped through the room to fold out the sofa. It was completely made-up in mere seconds; a queen-size foldable mattress complete with pillows and a down-comforter. He peeled back the sheets and placed me inside, wrapping the blankets into a cocoon about me.
He remained over the covers and came up to me slowly, watching my reaction. The gray sweater he'd changed into was thick and threw his red-hair into a stark, flaming contrast. I pinched the fabric experimentally.
"I don't want you to get cold from touching me," he explained and I moved the rest of my fingers up to fist the shirt.
With a short tug, he complied, quick to mold to my form.
"You held your poison better," I sighed in defeat.
"My trauma isn't as recent as yours."
"Trauma...?" I wondered tilting my head to gaze up at him.
He nodded, but his eyes were distant and mouth resolute.
"...I don't think I should be getting drunk for a while. Didn't know it would do this to me."
"You couldn't know," he breathed, brushing my hair rhythmically. His fingers pulled gently along my scalp, "Do you want to talk about the memories?"
"Not yet. Not with so many listeners."
He hummed his assent.
"What would help you?"
"Feeling... safe."
He smiled, never ceasing his ministrations, "I'll watch over you."
"Must be nice to not need much sleep."
"Do you think you'll wake up in another murderous rage?"
"You've seen me murderous before," I teased, turning my head further so that his lips brushed my forehead, "That wasn't nearly so messy. And... no, I don't think so. I know your scent well."
His fingers twitched along my hair and I felt his lips quirk up into a small smile.
"Then go ahead and sleep. I'll keep watch."
I inhaled deeply, drinking in the spiced scent of him and allowing myself to relax.