Muse.

O, The Blood!

[Soundtrack: O, The Blood! by Puma Blue...on repeat]

I'm on my stomach on top of the covers in a pair of cream pajamas with pink edging. My hair is wet from the shower. I scroll through Pinterest aimlessly. An uncanny photo catches my eye. It's slightly blurred and dim, more aesthetic than anything. A candle-lit table and the back of the heads of two well-dressed young men, one fair haired, the other with dark hair tied back. A girl sits across the table, blocked by the figure of the fair haired man except for a hand holding a wine glass and a sliver of her hair and face. It's hair that looks an awful lot like mine. But it can't be. Why would it be?

Three knocks sound lightly against my door. I get up and open it a sliver. Eren's pretty face looks through the crack, his green eyes alight from within. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." I smile and stand back, opening the door wide.

Eren comes through it with a spoon and whisk between three of his long fingers. As he passes into the room I am struck again by his proud stature, his beauty, his body. I weaken a little against the door as I watch him enter, completely at ease.

Not fair.

He walks around my bed to my nightstand. After a moment's survey, he plucks the little blue and yellow memory card off the surface.

"Have you decided what you want to leverage against this?"

"Uh huh." I shut my door quietly, turning the knob.

"What?" Anticipation holds his pretty face.

"I think if this tape ever sees the light of day..." I look at him coyly for second, mustering the boldness this requires. "...you have to set me up on a date with your brother."

"What?"

I had expected him to laugh.

"Set me up with Zeke." I snatch the card from between him. "And you have to put in a good word for me."

Eren's face is flat. "He's thirty-five."

I shrug innocently.

"He'a a pig." Eren adds. Why would you even- I mean ew."

I giggle. "What? It's not gonna come to that, right? Just don't let the tape get out, and I'll never cross his path."

"But why would you even want that?"

I shrug. "He's hot, and you hate him. It's the perfect leverage."

Eren stares at me, dumbfounded, just looming by my nightstand.

"So, are those for my hickeys?" I point to the kitchen tools hanging from his hand.

"Yes," Eren grumbles. He drops onto one knee on the bed, looking dejected. His eyes absently watch my neck.

I take in the sight. Eren, under my control. I can't help but take pleasure in his obvious state of annoyance.

"Well?" Eren says.

"What?"

"Come here," he says.