Thread: A Twisted Love (canibalistickisses and google)

Lucille's sight swelled with panic and relieve, spying Sebastian's form butting his way through the crowds. Yet it remained nothing but an insignificant presence compared to the terror wrought through her soul. Any attempt to bypass or ignore it only found the sensation to intensify, swelling until it threatened to crush her head and chest alike. Her plump lips trembled upon feeling his drag along alabaster fell, creating a cascade of warmth and chill. There sounded a soft whimper and not much more, unable to reply to his sardonic hiss in ear's shell. In fact, all the poor girl could do was tremble in the shoulders and hope to not ultimately collapse in an uncouth heap. Tear-filled eyes fluttered shut, pressing damp lashes flush against the spray of barely there freckles. A trembling breath drew and exhaled in a feeble pitch. Finally a response came in the form of jade eyes opening, turning to regard him through eye's corners, slightly obscuring her fearful look by drawing down her lashes. It could not diminish the tremble in her painted lips. Noe could it sponge the scent of fear hanging heavily in the surrounding air. Lucille had nearly been overcome before Sebastian's growling pitch perforated the atmosphere. Only then had she finally been able to breathe. Dominic's rising temper, while not seen, could be felt with ease. His skin grew hot and there was the noted tension wracked in his muscles each coiled tight at her backside like a waiting cobra. There rose the dire need to warn Sebastian of the rising exigency billowing from Dominic's core. To become the sacrificial lamb and spare a gruesome fisticuffs between each aggressive man. But never could vocals generate even a single word. Only nervous breath fluttered free punctured by the occasional little chime of a whimper emanated through tremulous lips. Sebastian noted her deer in the headlight manner, picking up the vibes unspoken yet unable to completely fit the puzzle together into its proper place. Nevertheless, he refused to simply drop it cold. Between Lucille's fear and the vibe stemming from his core, simply allowing her to be swept away would only proceed in placing him to blame. He would not willingly release his friend, the object of his affections, into the grasp of someone who in truth, seemed nothing more than a stranger. His touch did not dwindle from its perch, not until poor Lucille suddenly lost balance and toppled back, goaded by her envious past lover's arm encircling about. Doe-mannered eyes swept up in spurned panic, laid onto Dom then snapping down over towards Sebastian. M-mhn.... , she murmured softly, closing her eyes. The lay of his hand against her throat, although ominous and foreboding, admittedly spurned a geyser of heat under pristine white flesh. And with it, heat pooled against her belly. Time after time Lucille had tried to deny and vehemently repent against it, but there came a pleasure from the gesture which had come far too regularly in their warped relationship. Memories of the previous attempt still registered fresh in her mind and often, alone in her bed, it felt as if hands had ringed her throat and squeezed until she coughed and sputtered for breath and awoke doused in a cold sweat. Every time a different scenario but they all ended the same way. Those well crafted hands situated along her graceful swan-esque neck. It would always end that way, or another black eye and swollen lips. Nervously, Lucille shuffled in place, adjusting herself enough to draw one hand and place it where Sebastian's resided on the opposing wrist. Upon painted lips, a smile struggled to form while pallid jade eyes conjured the most assuring look which could be mustered. Before comfort could be uttered however, a suspicious Sebastian spoke abrasively in a cordial manner through held teeth. Funny. She never mentioned anything about you. Not so much as a peep. Nor have I heard anything coming from you either. His eyes settled briefly upon Lucille then scoured over to Dominic, clearly challenging his statement. Yet, soon enough callous-touched fingers relinquished their hold, for now, willing to play further into the play. Poor Lucille looked as if she were ready to combust at any possible second and it was after her her birthday. Sure... drinks.. why not... , he remarked near thoughtlessly, casting a fleeting look to where the remainder of the group already sat huddled at the bar.