Stage Lights

Part 2 - If Looks Could Kill

The ritual could not have been over quick enough. The final bows seemed to drag on forever, and even though you always loved handing out picks, this time you couldn't wait to be offstage. It didn't help that Swiss made sure to brush past you as much as possible, his knowing grin taunting you each time.

You wanted to punch something.

The rest of the concert had been frustrating. You had continued to mess up through the last few songs. You'd slipped up during your duo with Dewdrop, then again later in the main chorus of Dance Macabre. To top that you'd bumped into Phantom, almost knocking over the quintessence ghoul. And. Swiss. Was. Still. Smiling.

Copia had been giving you multiple glances, alongside the rest of the ghouls and ghoulettes. You knew they were going to be bringing this up later, and you hated the thought.

At last, the ritual officially ended and you raced off stage as soon as you could, purposely avoiding Swiss. You managed to make it into the corridor before he caught up to you.

A hand grabbed your elbow and he pulled you back as you twisted to face him. You hissed, flashing your teeth at the cocky grin that greeted you.

"Someone's pissed." You were going to punch him. You were so going to punch him.

"What the fuck do you want Swiss?"

He cocked his head at the venom in your voice, his grin growing more smug. How much trouble would you be in with papa if you punched his face? It's not like the audience could see it anyway.

"Aww, looks like someone can't handle it when they lose."

"I didn't lose." You did. You knew that, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Swiss tilted his head, hand squeezing your elbow as he considered you, that stupid smirk still lingering.

"I seem to remember you losing that chord. And then the one after. And the one after." His voice grew teasing. "It was like you couldn't focus anymore, was that because of me?"

His other hand trailed down your arm, reminding you of how he had done the same thing on stage. It sent butterflies through your stomach and you wanted to rip their wings off. Why did you feel this fucking way? For Swiss, of all ghouls?

He leaned in, his body pressing against yours, hands slipping to your hips. His breath was warm on your neck, seeping through the cloth covering. Your own hands braced on his arms, nails digging into the fabric of his rolled sleeves-to push him away or pull him closer, you weren't sure. You felt the wall press up against your back as he hovered over your neck. Was he seriously going to fucking bite you again?

"If I'd known you liked being bitten so much I would have done it sooner, love." He purred into your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat and his grin grew wider. Snapping yourself out of it you pushed him back, glamour slipping momentarily as you bared your fangs.

"You fucking asshole."

Swiss merely laughed, giving you a small taunting wave as he turned down the corridor, heading to his room.

You stood there a moment, still reeling from his comments and teasing. You hadn't expected him to walk away like that-usually Swiss would continue to taunt his victory. Unless he was planning something else-you were so screwed.

Dew rounded the corner with Rain, and you turned away as soon as their gaze fell on you, stalking down to your room.

You closed the door to your small change room , throwing the helmet onto the carpeted floor. Striding to the mirror, you pulled off the cloth mask, tilting your head to get a look at the side of your neck.

Fucking ghoul bastard.

His teeth were clearly imprinted in the side of your neck, the skin around it pink that was slowly turning into a bruised colour. It would be there for days. Fuck.

You scowled into the mirror, thinking about the bus trip to the hotel. Maybe you could just leave the mask on so the others didn't see-but they were going to tease you anyway. Grabbing your horns, you tried to push the memories from your mind. You had to act normal, as if he hadn't awoken some fucking feelings that you had never even realised were there.

You huffed, running your fingertips over the mark. You did not like him. You didn't. He was an annoying piece of shit who had thrown you off your game and caught you by surprise. You were completely composed, and you were going to keep it together and laugh off any comments about it. He was not going to get the satisfaction of seeing the effect of that moment on stage. Nope.

Oh, and you were going to get him back for it. Just as soon as you came up with an idea for how .

With one last look at the mark on your neck, you fixed your mask back on, packing away any of the items you still had scattered around the small room that you'd needed before the show started. Hefting the bag onto your shoulder, you took a breath before pushing open the door.