Log: Amanda, Manuel, Late Friday Night
Mar. 6th, 2004 01:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsStaying the night in Marie and Shinobi's suite, Amanda needs a little something to help her make it through the night.
Amanda barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.
She knelt on the cold tile, hanging onto the smooth porcelain surface of the toilet bowl, heaving until there wasn't anything left to come up, and then heaving some more, and trying to do it as quietly as she could so she didn't wake Shinobi up. It was around 1 AM, and she'd ended up sleeping on the couch in his and Marie's suite - it was a big, soft couch and she was a small person, so it worked well. He and Marie had taken turns to 'keep her company' (ie, make sure she didn't run away) that evening, and she had to admit, she'd almost enjoyed the company. She'd even managed to eat, soup and toast, nothing fancy, but it had stayed down. So far, so good.
The shakes started around eleven, followed by the sweats and sudden, paralysing cramps. Her body demanding its fix. She'd tried to ignore it at first, but when it had gotten too bad, she had mentally cased the suite for something, anything to get her through. Her coat, with the two amulets in the pocket, was missing - she guessed the ever-organised Marie had taken it for cleaning or something - and neither Shinobi or Marie was a drinker, so there was no booze. In the end she'd taken a couple of aspirin, which had eased the cramping somewhat, and fallen into an uneasy sleep, only to wake and make a wobbly dash for the toilet.
At last the storm passed, and she sat back, wiping her mouth with a wad of toilet paper and flushing it away with the remains of her dinner. Shaking, teeth chattering with cold and shock, she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened and wished this was over, that there was something to take away the pain. Something, or someone…
Manuel. He could help.
She remembered Lorna's reaction when she'd told her about Manny. She remembered Remy's contempt. None of if mattered. All that mattered now was not feeling this way any more. Unsteadily she clambered to her feet, washed her face, rinsed her mouth. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror was hollow-eyed and battered, but she ignored that and tottered out of the bathroom. Pausing only to listen for either Shinobi checking up on the noises in the bathroom and hearing nothing, she grabbed the hospital robe that was hanging over the end of the couch and made her slow way out the door.
The journey to the second floor seemed to take forever, and she was afraid of running into one of the mansion's insomniac contingent, but for once her luck held and she made it to Manny's room unchallenged. She rested her forehead against the smooth grain of his door, gathering her strength, such as it was. He was awake, she could feel that through the link: he was listening to his music again in an effort to reinforce his control, calm himself. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed her need, her wanting, down the link to him, pulling up the memory of the night she'd first gone to him asking for help.
A long silence, and then the soft sound of feet hitting the floor and padding across to the door. It opened, and Manuel stood there, breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust.
"What do you want?" he asked, his accent thick and harsh.
"You," she said simply. "I want you."
He stared at her for what seemed like forever, frowning, and then nodded. "They all want me, eventually," he said, with a smirk, and pulled her inside.
***
Amanda barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.
She knelt on the cold tile, hanging onto the smooth porcelain surface of the toilet bowl, heaving until there wasn't anything left to come up, and then heaving some more, and trying to do it as quietly as she could so she didn't wake Shinobi up. It was around 1 AM, and she'd ended up sleeping on the couch in his and Marie's suite - it was a big, soft couch and she was a small person, so it worked well. He and Marie had taken turns to 'keep her company' (ie, make sure she didn't run away) that evening, and she had to admit, she'd almost enjoyed the company. She'd even managed to eat, soup and toast, nothing fancy, but it had stayed down. So far, so good.
The shakes started around eleven, followed by the sweats and sudden, paralysing cramps. Her body demanding its fix. She'd tried to ignore it at first, but when it had gotten too bad, she had mentally cased the suite for something, anything to get her through. Her coat, with the two amulets in the pocket, was missing - she guessed the ever-organised Marie had taken it for cleaning or something - and neither Shinobi or Marie was a drinker, so there was no booze. In the end she'd taken a couple of aspirin, which had eased the cramping somewhat, and fallen into an uneasy sleep, only to wake and make a wobbly dash for the toilet.
At last the storm passed, and she sat back, wiping her mouth with a wad of toilet paper and flushing it away with the remains of her dinner. Shaking, teeth chattering with cold and shock, she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened and wished this was over, that there was something to take away the pain. Something, or someone…
Manuel. He could help.
She remembered Lorna's reaction when she'd told her about Manny. She remembered Remy's contempt. None of if mattered. All that mattered now was not feeling this way any more. Unsteadily she clambered to her feet, washed her face, rinsed her mouth. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror was hollow-eyed and battered, but she ignored that and tottered out of the bathroom. Pausing only to listen for either Shinobi checking up on the noises in the bathroom and hearing nothing, she grabbed the hospital robe that was hanging over the end of the couch and made her slow way out the door.
The journey to the second floor seemed to take forever, and she was afraid of running into one of the mansion's insomniac contingent, but for once her luck held and she made it to Manny's room unchallenged. She rested her forehead against the smooth grain of his door, gathering her strength, such as it was. He was awake, she could feel that through the link: he was listening to his music again in an effort to reinforce his control, calm himself. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed her need, her wanting, down the link to him, pulling up the memory of the night she'd first gone to him asking for help.
A long silence, and then the soft sound of feet hitting the floor and padding across to the door. It opened, and Manuel stood there, breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust.
"What do you want?" he asked, his accent thick and harsh.
"You," she said simply. "I want you."
He stared at her for what seemed like forever, frowning, and then nodded. "They all want me, eventually," he said, with a smirk, and pulled her inside.
***
