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Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 08-11-2010 at 06:40 AM
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Rachel Day

The American was trying to get on the same page as the Spaniard, but this was very difficult to do. Rachel was always raised with the fact that 'boyfriend/girlfriend', was the way that everything was suppose to be. If two people were in a deep relationship with one another, that was what it was labeled. After that, marriage. It was so simple. Of course, Santiago was a complicated man, so everything that came out of his mouth was just so, foreign to her. Literally. He spoke of the term 'lovers' like it was such a wonderful thing, and 'boyfriend/girlfriend', was like, two hobos dating or something. Maybe she had this thing all wrong. After all, she had only once experience in a relationship, and look how that turned out. The guy dumped her for a gold fish.

Rachel looked at his shocked expression at her bold question. Yes, she was pretty shocked herself; but she was a bold person. Really, no one should have been surprised by now. She was on edge suddenly. On edge for the upcoming answer. It was Santiago Ortiz. The Spanish, brooding, dark, mysterious, and dangerous man. He had to have like a little black book of 'lovers' or whatever.

"A lover is someone you can both love and lust for. Someone you want and need. And who returns the sentiment." Oh, wow. Rachel's eyes turned hazy, finding herself almost swooning. It sounded so... romantic. Ugh, and the accent just went perfectly with that explanation. Yeesh. He must have so many lovers. So many women begging-

“I can’t say that I’ve ever quite achieved that.”

Spaniard say what? Rachel blinked a couple times, lowering her eyes at the ground. Why did she feel so, excited by the answer? It was a sad thing. It had to be for him. Well, she never had a lover, but ten years from now, she would want to at least have had one. He was ten years older than her, and he did not have one. Hmmm. She wondered how he felt about that? She wondered if he had ever come close to that? Rachel Day wondered a lot about Santiago Ortiz.

“But, if you merely want to know how many ‘girlfriends’ I’ve had or how many women I’ve slept with, that is an entirely different matter.”

"Oh goodness!" Rachel gasped in a light whisper, putting her hands at her stomach, and backing away a little; not meeting his smothering brown eyes that were staring at her. She shook her head slowly, not really wanting to pry into any of his sexual endeavors. She wanted to go on a tantrum about how gross the act was, or whatever- but she couldn't. She didn't have it in her. For some reason, the thought aroused her. She had been thinking about sex the entire night, and it was so different to her. Such different territory in her mind for her. Who wouldn't after what she had been through, though? Still- just the thought of sleeping with someone- the thought of discussing it with Santiago, made for a dangerous conversation. It would be a very... emotional provoking conversation to say the least. She wondered if she would ever make it on that list.

Ugh, goodness, Rachel Day! What are you, a perverted old man tonight?!

"Nope." She sheepishly began laughing, waving it off, and looking up at him. "I'm all good. I don't really need to know that information. You can just.. keep that to yourself. None of my business."

Not only that, but for some reason, Rachel had a nagging feeling that if she found out - she would be hurt. Which, was just totally odd, and selfish! He wasn't hers. They hadn't kissed. Goodness, they had made it very clear in the past of how much they annoyed one another. Tonight. Tonight was different. Were they ever going to talk about tonight?

Flustered at her own thinking, Rachel quickly took a seat one one of the chairs next to her, looking straight out, and avoiding him. She set her hands on her bare thighs, clearing her throat. The emotions from tonight were lingering, and she didn't know if this was such a good idea. She felt so.. so.. Ugh! She felt just so antsy, and on edge. She felt uneasy. It was because of him. It was because of them. She could not rid of this sexual emotion. She never had sexual emotion. Ever! Not even with Kieran. Ew. Alright note: The thought of him was now just... sickening.

"So, uh, lovers isn't really your thing then?" She asked from where she was sitting, not even looking at him; her feet tapping anxiously against the terrace ground.


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Old 08-11-2010 at 07:27 AM
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Santiago Ortiz

He meant the comment to shut Rachel up. He didn’t want to go into detail about his sexual encounters. Encounters, God, what an impersonal word. It rubbed Santiago the wrong way, left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t think of an alternative. Like he had said, he had never been lovers with someone in a way calling for pure intimacy. He wondered if he ever would be. Strike that. He didn’t wonder. He doubted he would ever be someone’s lover by his own standards. Sometimes, like tonight, the notion bothered him. If he had no intention of being Rachel’s lover, what had tonight’s purpose been? Why did Santiago go after her in the first place, if he was so certain he would eventually cast her aside?

That’s why you stopped when you did.

The thought brought a sharp pain between his eyes and a twisting sensation to his chest. He might have been protecting Rachel, but that in and of itself didn’t make her any more special than the next woman. She could have easily been like so many others tonight: used and enjoyed until Santiago backed out. Externally, he could see very little. She was beautiful. He recognized that. But what did she have that other women didn’t? He could find her features on other women. Bright, doe eyes. Lush, pink lips. Thick, mahogany locks. Internally…. What did he know of that? He knew little about her past… In fact, he knew nothing at all about it. Her passions and the things she loathed were mysteries. And yet, Santiago was oddly accustomed to her ups and downs. Each emotion he aroused in her—anger, ecstasy, gratitude, frustration—enthralled him. And perhaps that was all that set Rachel apart from the other women for Santiago. He thirsted for discovery with Rachel. He hungered for her emotions. He relished each new discovery. And she pulled from the charred and shoddy woodwork that was Santiago Ortiz an array of feeling he hadn’t remembered feeling in years. Was it Rachel that caught Santiago’s curiosity or the man that she made him into that intrigued him?

He gripped the fence behind him tightly, as if pulling himself physically away from the thought. It didn’t work. Santiago watched Rachel move and sit in one of the lawn chairs haphazardly scattered about the terrace. She moved a little clumsily, but Santiago found himself still fascinated by her, regardless of what it was that caused his interest. His captivation had purpose. He had to see what made Rachel so very different from other girls he’d met.

"Nope." She sheepishly began laughing, waving it off, and looking up at him. "I'm all good. I don't really need to know that information. You can just.. keep that to yourself. None of my business."

Santiago’s gaze lost its dark intensity and instead became one of appraisal. His smirk, a smile. She was right. It was none of her business. That Santiago could remain mum about it was a relief because he didn’t want to lose whatever respect he’d gained over the last month from Rachel. He was certain that if he ever told her how many women he’d been with, Rachel would find him no better than the next man, and maybe even a little repulsive. There were times even Santiago was repulsed by himself.

"So, uh, lovers isn't really your thing then?"

Santiago groaned and pushed off of the fence restlessly, coming up behind the lawn chair so he stood diagonally behind Rachel. He couldn’t possibly sit down and he didn’t trust himself to stand behind her chair, resting his hands lightly against the back… The idea was tempting, but he settled for where he stood. He studied her silently for a moment, and then turned his eyes skyward. Pollution and city lights dimmed the stars, so that all Santiago could see was milky blackness. He sighed.

“No, I guess not,” he said, disappointment tingeing his voice. “It’s nice to imagine, though.”

Typically, Santiago’s “imaginings” were of Gisele. Sometimes, they were fantasies on the sexual side, but mostly, what Santiago dreamt of was marrying her. Settling down in a flat. Working in a theater together. Having kids. Growing old. But when he shut his eyes tonight, he was not greeted by Gisele’s familiar face. He instead saw Rachel, held fast in his arms on the dance floor. Her lips only inches from his as she gazed up becomingly at him as he arched downwards to kiss her….

His eyes flew open. Maybe imagining wasn’t so nice after all.

“What about you? Still prefer a boyfriend to a lover?” he asked, trying to brighten his voice to its typical bantering state. Instead, it sounded a little too hoarse for his liking. Santiago squeezed the back of the chair firmly, waiting far too anxiously for her answer.

As if it makes a difference…
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Old 08-11-2010 at 08:16 AM
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Rachel Day

Rachel had wondered what it would be like to live the life people around her lived in terms of sex. It wasn't as if she were constantly mustering up perverted emotions, but it was like she was living in the life of Sandy, with a bunch of Rizzos trotting around. All the women she had come to know- chorus dancers, stagehand women (who really didn't look like their gender to begin with), and the people she had grown up around in New York, were just so, free with their sexuality. Not saying that everyone around here were tramps, because it was probably her with the flaw. She was a prude. She had been called a prude since sixth grade, when she wouldn't participate in spin the bottle at a little shindig with some of her classmates. Not only had they made fun of her for calling it a 'shindig', and dressing up in a gown- but they had poked fun at her for months on end about not playing the game. She just didn't think an empty soda can should have the power to demand who her lips locked with. First off, the little actress did not take demands from anyone, especially an inanimate object. Secondly, a kiss was something to be cherished. Something special between two people that felt special feelings for one another. Something that... that should have happened tonight. Anyways, that was just totally besides the point. Rachel Day wondered what it would be like to have the attitude of many women, and apparently Santiago. She wondered what it would be like if she, herself, actually had a number of 'boyfriends' or people she slept with. Apart of her wanted to experience that life, but the other part was deathly against it. She had watched someone lived the severity of life, and it was utterly sickening. Rachel promised herself she would never turn out like that, and she couldn't bear to break that promise. She promised to never turn out to be like her mother.

“No, I guess not." Rachel's eyes widened full blast, being pulled from her thoughts, and hearing Santiago's voice right behind her. She felt her hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly, feeling his weight against the back of the chair. He was so close... “It’s nice to imagine, though.”

Her body stopped flipping out at his sudden presence, and just fell limp for a moment. Rachel stared out, thinking to herself. His voice sounded so sincere. Not all manly, and proud of his- well, whatever number of women he had slept with. Santiago seemed truly genuine in the fact that the thought of having a lover sounded nice. It would be nice to have a lover. She could attest to that. Not that, she had taken herself to be in need of someone before but- there was always that void. It wasn't severe like she couldn't get out of bed in the morning, but it was always there lingering in the back of her mind. Now, when she listened to the soundtrack of Spring Awakening, then it got a little severe.

“What about you?" Reality smacked her in the face again, brought back by a raspy voiced man behind her. "Still prefer a boyfriend to a lover?”

What a question... Well, using the new vocabulary she had just learned, it took Rachel a moment to answer him. She never experienced a lover. Kieran was more of a boyfriend, now that she could step out of all the mushy emotions, and take a good look at it. They hadn't been serious. He hadn't taken her virginity. It wasn't anything, special. She thought it could have turned out that way, but he had found his lover that night. She had seen what having too many 'boyfriends/girlfriends/one night stands' could do to people, and she didn't particularly like that lifestyle. She knew that if she were going to spend time with someone physically, it needed to be done in the correct way. Still, curiosity poked at her. It was curiosity, though. Nothing would ever come of it.

"Well, using the new terminology I learned..." Rachel began, trying to be matter-of-fact, but her voice came out almost breathless. She didn't like that she was behind him. That was a lie. She did not like that the chair was in between them. Now, that was unsettling.

So, she got up from the chair, walked over the ledge, and spun to meet him, so she was now in his way of viewing the city. Rachel was the only thing in his eyesight. This was purpose, but she would never admit it. She just needed to get away from being so close to him.

"I don't think I approve that kind of lifestyle." She stated, not in an annoying diva way, but in a smooth, thoughtful tone. Who was she? "If I'm going to be with somebody," She began, her eyes somehow moving downward, in deep thinking. "It has to mean something. Not just something," She corrected herself suddenly, looking up at him for some reason, and just... getting lost. "Everything."

The word seemed to linger in the air for a moment longer than Rachel approved of. Twirling around so her back was facing him, she sighed- becoming annoyed with tonight. "I just have seen what the other does to people..." Woah, Rachel, don't get too deep now. "And I just don't like it."

She could have slipped. She could have revealed so much to him. Rachel couldn't believe how easy talking to Santiago could be. It scared her.


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Old 08-11-2010 at 08:52 AM
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Santiago Ortiz

Breathe out… Breathe in… It was simple enough, and yet Santiago found it nearly impossible to manage as he waited for Rachel’s answer. It couldn’t have—shouldn’t have—mattered so much to him. He was a grown man with his mind made up. He was done trying to find The One. He had let The One slip through his shaking, bloody fingers eleven years ago. Absolutely nothing in heaven or on earth was going to make him reevaluate that decision.

… Right?

Santiago was a secure man. He knew what he wanted and he worked for his goals. He knew his limits, his abilities, his strengths. And yet, he felt so unsure of himself tonight. Rachel had thrown him off his game. She was like an infestation in his mind, incurable and debilitating.

"Well, using the new terminology I learned..."

He watched her rise and walk over to the ledge again, this time, stopping between him and the concrete. Even if she hadn’t blocked his view, all Santiago would have seen tonight was Rachel.

"I don't think I approve that kind of lifestyle."

It wasn’t bratty. It wasn’t argumentative. Instead, Rachel’s voice had gone contemplative and decisive. Santiago couldn’t help but be impressed—even if it was his lifestyle she was condemning. He released his held breath.

"If I'm going to be with somebody," She began, her eyes somehow moving downward, in deep thinking. "It has to mean something. Not just something," She corrected herself suddenly, looking up at him for some reason, and just... getting lost. "Everything."

He met her gaze and again, found it hard to breathe. It was like Santiago was in a constant state of asthma-attack tonight. The clutching in his chest, the shortness of breath… Neither were good signs. But, somehow, Santiago couldn’t help but think it had more to do with Rachel than his health. Her views reflected the ideals he had once held so dear—but spent ten years pushing down and ignoring. Maybe if he was looking for a new start, that was where he needed to begin. Trying to recapture his old ideals. But he didn’t think he could. Santiago had spent too long believing one thing and doing another that hypocrisy was just a way of life. Hypocritical or not, Santiago felt a stirring of yearning in his chest.

Let me be that everything.

It sounded like a line from a trashy romance novel. Rachel as the nubile but stunning heroine; Santiago the brooding, Mediterranean hero. It should have repulsed Santiago the way Don Juan and Casanova did. But instead, part of him couldn’t deny the sincerity of the thought. He broke eye contact just as Rachel turned away from him.

"I just have seen what the other does to people... And I just don't like it."

“I never said I approve of the choices I’ve made,” Santiago said resignedly, walking over to the ledge and leaning into it. “But I have to live with them regardless.”

He couldn’t help but feel glad that Rachel wasn’t going to make the mistakes he and so many others had in their youth. Settling for what you could get instead of what you wanted. Of course, Santiago had never had much of a choice. Settling was a way of life when you lived just above the poverty line. You made do and you shut your mouth. You didn’t complain. You didn’t reach for the stars. You just muddled through and faked content. Santiago had made the mistake of wanting more and getting some of it for a hefty price.

And yet, he did feel a twinge of disappointment. He could not and would not be Rachel’s “everything”. Which meant that tonight had been in vain. All the sexual tension, all the desire, all the feeling, wasted. Santiago looked down at his feet.
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Old 08-11-2010 at 09:07 AM
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Rachel Day

Rachel was being a complete baby about everything. She was being ridiculous, and just like a three-year old girl, watching a Cinderella movie, and just hopeful that someday, it will happen to her. It wasn't going too. As much as she wanted something to happen tonight, as much as her mind and body were telling her that it was Santiago she needed- it couldn't and wouldn't happen. They were completely different people. They were stuck together by force of the murder happening. This wasn't real. None of this. What happened tonight, meant nothing. She kept trying to tell her stubborn mind that, and it would have to learn to accept that. No matter how much of a battle it was for her.

“I never said I approve of the choices I’ve made,” She tensed up as he met her at the ledge. “But I have to live with them regardless.”

She nodded, pursing her lips together. Suddenly, she wasn't thinking about sex anymore. She was thinking back to that dead body in the Opera House office. Rachel assumed his life was full of 'choices' he made. Choices, that people probably wouldn't even think of having to deal with. She knew hardly anything about him, so she couldn't judge him. She didn't want too. In her mind, even though she had seen sides to him that weren't normal for an everyday person- he was... everything. Everything that she wanted.

"You're a good person, Santiago." She suddenly said, looking over at him. He could take that for whatever it was worth, but Rachel meant it to be so much more. She didn't really care about his choices- just the person that she was with through these rough nights, proved that he was a genuine person. No matter how shady everything seemed to the outside eye.

Rachel shook out of her words, straightening herself, and outstretching her arms. "I think it's time for me to go to sleep." She announced, not knowing if she really were tired, or just knowing she needed to get away from him. Which, would be getting away from all these emotions she was feeling.

"I don't want to put you out of a bed again, so I mean, I can sleep on the couch or something?" She offered. "I mean, you did sleep on the floor last time."


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Old 08-11-2010 at 09:26 AM
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Santiago Ortiz

"You're a good person, Santiago."

His head snapped up and Santiago looked at Rachel in grateful surprise. No one had ever mistaken him for a “good person”, at least, not in years. The harsh lines of his face smoothed and a half-smile tugged at his lips. Either Rachel was naive or she saw something in Santiago the Spaniard himself didn’t even see.

I’m sorry you think so, he thought, swallowing hard. I didn’t mean to make you think I’m something I’m not.

Still, a rush of warm gratitude rushed through his veins. A good person. A compliment. His brain went a little fuzzy. Not quite the way it had when he thought he and Rachel were going to make love, but almost. It was a pleasurable sensation, paired with that damnable urge to kiss her. Santiago didn’t know how else to thank her. But to kiss her would send the wrong message after the night they’d had. More importantly, it would negate the “good” part of him that Rachel seemed to believe in. Silence hung in the air, thicker than the summer’s heat, and Santiago licked his dry lips self-consciously.

Rachel stretched, as if she was a cartoon yawning. Santiago blinked in surprise.

"I think it's time for me to go to sleep."

Santiago nodded understandingly. She’d had a harrowing night. The last possible thing Rachel could want to do was stand outside on the terrace, trying to make Santiago feel better about himself. He didn’t need the ego boost as much as she needed her rest.

"I don't want to put you out of a bed again, so I mean, I can sleep on the couch or something?" She offered. "I mean, you did sleep on the floor last time."

Santiago chuckled. But honestly? He wouldn’t hear of making a girl sleep on the couch. She was a guest, after all. He shook his head.

“The bed is all yours, chica,” he insisted, resisting the urge to touch her reassuringly. “My couch is good enough for me… You’d think it was actually designed for sleeping…”

He was joking, but just a little bit. Santiago would make do. He always did.

“Besides, I’m going to be up for a while. You might as well take the bed anyways.”
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Old 08-11-2010 at 09:51 AM
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Rachel Day

Santiago chuckled, and Rachel blinked at him. She was serious! She was going to be a pest to him, if he kept sleeping uncomfortably just for her sake. Ugh, the thought of them sleeping in the same bed to solve the solution came to mind just like last time. It was such a lovely thought. It truly was. Just like so many things between them, it could never happen.

“The bed is all yours, chica,” He assured her. “My couch is good enough for me… You’d think it was actually designed for sleeping…”

Rachel smiled a little bit, feeling a bit better. For some reason, she just wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that he was uncomfortable. Well, alright- she wouldn't be able to sleep just knowing he was under the same roof as her. Really, he was making tonight very difficult for her. Difficult on her respiratory system especially.

“Besides, I’m going to be up for a while. You might as well take the bed anyways.”

She wondered... what was on his mind that would keep him from sleeping? Some hopeful thought popped into her mind- feeling as though she would have something to do with it perhaps. That was craziness. Like Santiago said, he had a number of women he slept with and girlfriends. They hadn't even kissed. They hadn't even talked about tonight, or finished it. It was just, a night. A situation that happened and was over with. Rachel just wished it was that easy for her.

"Well, thank you." She said to him, swallowing hard, and forcing her eyes to meet him. "Thank you for everything tonight, Santiago."

Rachel walked away with that, heading back inside. She didn't even want to explain or think about really what she was thankful for.

----

Rachel lie there, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable, and as cheesy as it was- it smelled like him. Santiago had a certain smell, and the company that made his cologne needed to be thanked. It was a good scent. She breathed into the pillow, rolling over on her side, and forcing her eyes shut. Images flashed through her mind, that she had wished away just minutes ago. Images of Santiago. When her eyes were closed, she could feel him. She could feel his strong arms wrap around her, propping her up onto that sink; feel them holding her against him, as they glided across the floor. She could see his husky eyes taking hers, and not allowing her to look anywhere else but at him. Their lips. They were inches apart.

Her fingers were digging into the mattress, taking up some of the sheet at how intense her thinking of him was. Rachel didn't know how to shake this feeling, but she was half asleep, and in such a delirious state, she was a victim to it all. "Santiago..." She whispered, her body straightening, her lips parting, and she could feel her muscles relaxing.

After everything that had happened tonight, she could finally relax, because she was with who she belonged. She was in his home, and safe from everything that the world had poured onto her tonight. Rachel was away from the heart break, the thieves, and all the people in Paris tonight. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered to her was right outside the bedroom.


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Old 08-11-2010 at 10:21 AM
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Santiago Ortiz

He waited until the glass door clicked shut to lean limply into the concrete ledge. A moan erupted from Santiago’s throat and slipped through his lips before he could stop it.

“¡Maldígalo!”

He had just let her go. Just let Rachel walk away with her “thank you”. He understood it. She needed her rest. God knew that. Her life hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing since Santiago had entered it and tonight had probably been especially draining. And yet, selfish as it was, Santiago found that he felt more drained than he could have thought possible. At least three times tonight, he’d let Rachel slip away. He had had every opportunity to kiss her and Santiago knew full well that he wanted to. He slammed an angry fist against the concrete slab. He could feel his bones creak at the impact. He flexed his fingers and pushed away from the ledge to pace. Why hadn’t he taken the chance? Why hadn’t he just kissed her? What was the worst that could happen?

Rachel could leave at any time. She’s not obligated to you like you are to her.

Santiago stalked up and down the rooftop; it was a wonder he didn’t leave a track in the concrete ground. Obligated. The last time Santiago had been obligated to anyone had been his obligation to the gang. That had been hell. Of course, this was its own special kind of hell. It burned and ached in all the right places. It made Santiago sick with himself. He had told Rachel tonight that he didn’t approve of the choices he’d made over the years. That he had to live with them. She wasn’t just going to be another regret. She was more than someone Santiago could use and discard. She was too real to him for Santiago to even entertain the thought.

But why was she so real to him? Was it because he had saved her life? Or was it because she reminded him that he was alive? Santiago would be hard pressed to say what it was that forced him to see Rachel as a flesh-and-blood human being. But that had to mean something.

Everything.

Rachel’s terminology reverberated in Santiago’s head and he stopped in the center of the terrace. They hadn’t even discussed tonight. Not the opera bathrooms, not the dance floor, not the bar… But they had to. Because, thanks to all she had told him tonight, Santiago couldn’t help but think that… maybe… He wanted out of life the exact same things that she did. Why not move forward together? They didn’t have to understand. They just had to do.

Inspired, Santiago stopped pacing and pulled open the door leading into his apartment. He walked to the base of the stairs and climbed them silently. Surely, Rachel had to still be awake…

He reached the landing and could see Rachel, curled up on the bed, clinging to the sheets tightly, as though they were her childhood blanket. He smiled softly, a little disappointed. Yet again, he had missed his window of opportunity. Now, she was asleep and in the morning, whatever they had been feeling would on be residue. Shoulders sagging, Santiago moved to the dresser to pull out his pajama bottoms. He’d go downstairs and change, try to get some sleep…

"Santiago..."

Wishful thinking, maybe, but Santiago would have sworn on his own grave that he heard Rachel whisper his name in the silent apartment. His grip on the pajama pants slackened a little and he turned to face her. She lay, uncurled, on his bed, a smile stretched over her full lips. Santiago strode to the bedside quietly and looked down at her, twisting his pajamas in his hands as he watched.

He had seen her lying on a bed before, back at Rein Spéciaux all those nights ago when they had been hiding out. He felt a familiar pull in his chest as he looked down at Rachel’s sleeping form.

Mi ángel preciosa, he thought, reaching out for her instinctively. Santiago swept a stray lock of Rachel’s hair from her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

She won’t remember in the morning… he thought suddenly. The stroking ceased. This time, Santiago wasn’t going to let opportunity pass him by.

He bent at the waist, lowering himself over Rachel until his lips touched her cheek. He planted a soft, gentle kiss there and lingered for a moment. When he realized that she was genuinely asleep and not about to wake up and kiss him back anytime soon, he pulled away.

He smiled softly at her again, pressing the semi-folded pajama bottoms to his chest and staring at her until Santiago realized he couldn’t bear to stand there and watch her sleep. If he wanted to be ignored, he’d wait until the next time he accidentally made her mad. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He turned to go, flicking off the lights before descending the stairs into darkness.
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Old 08-11-2010 at 10:45 AM
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Rachel Day

Lips.

Half-dazed Rachel could feel lips on her cheek.

They felt warm... so warm...

A light pleasant moan released from her parted lips, her head smashing back more against the pillow, her every muscle relaxing.

Rachel felt the lips departing, and her head began thrashing against the pillow, forcing her eyes to open, and see Santiago reaching for the light.

Through her half sleeping state- she could make out one thing...

His lips.

His lips that had been just inches away from hers.

The lips that Rachel still ached to feel; ached to lock with.

She fluttered her eyes, frowning, and looking to the ceiling- not really knowing what she was doing, where she was, or why she wasn't asleep- but knowing one thing for sure-

"You..."

The room was beginning to be consumed with darkness as she blinked. Each blink growing heavier.

"Missed."

Rachel let out a long breath, her head falling limp the other way, and falling asleep.

Her lips feeling cold.



ooc: End scene!


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Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 08-13-2010 at 06:25 AM
Mrs Nadir Khan
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OOC: For Rachel Ray! .... I mean.... Rachel Day. ;) BIC:


Santiago Ortiz

Santiago stared into the refrigerator. The cold air chilled his apartment more effectively than the air conditioner. Probably because there was no food to block the air flow. That was… weird. Typically, Santiago didn’t need to go down to the market often. And he had gone five days ago, so…

Maldigalo. Rachel.

The empty refrigerator was just another reminder that Santiago no longer lived alone. Two people were eating the food he bought. He crouched down and began rummaging. Milk… possibly expired… He took a sip to test. Definitely expired. He capped the milk and slammed it onto the counter. Hmm… What else was there? Anything?

“We have no food!” Santiago called out from his spot on the floor. “I’m going to the store.”

His cooking talents extended from cereal to sandwiches. He had made it expressly clear to Rachel when she moved in that she could not expect gourmet meals from Café Ortiz. He had—foolishly—thought that maybe she’d cook for him. That delusion had quickly gone to the wayside. Rachel was no more skilled in the kitchen than Santiago was. She did however bring with her a multi-cultural experience that Santiago had never witnessed before. Until Rachel moved in, the Spaniard had actively avoided any beef products misleadingly called “ham” burgers. He was honestly stumped at how to feed his long-term houseguest. Not only because he couldn’t cook. Even if Santiago was in touch with his inner Julia Child, his culinary palate and Rachel’s would have been starkly different. He would be the gazpacho to her chicken noodle soup… Hunger was bringing out Santiago’s inner poet, if not his inner chef. Just wonderf—Santiago’s hand hit a wrapped parcel. He pulled it out and unwrapped it gently. Santiago looked down at the package, expecting something rotten and moldy, but instead saw the smooth, fish fillets he’d bought at the market the other day. He’d forgotten he’d stopped by the day after he and Rachel had gone to the Seine. He had still felt particularly nostalgic for his homeland and the ocean and the seafood he had loved as a boy. Maybe… Pescaito frito? Fried fish couldn’t be too hard for Santiago to cook, right? And Rachel might eat it…? It was fried. Americans liked fried…Right?

“Never mind!”
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