The Guily Ones

Salty and Bittersweet

Author's Note:

Made it this far? In that case I want to give you all a big, digital hug. Thanks for staying with me in and this story, the whole (kind of repetitive) will they, won't they of Eric and Ash ( I swear to you, I'm as anxious as you guys, but those two have their own mind and didn't exactly follow my plot, because I swear to you, I had their story planned in a completely different way, but they evolved on their own and now we are here...). 

Thanks for your consistent voting and letting me know you enjoy my writing, my jokes and my story. Because of you, I was just invited to become a member of the Wattpad Creative Program. Something, that wouldn't have been possible without you. So pat yourself on your back now, maybe hug yourself and imagine it is me, thanking you. 

 😉

In a blurry motion, Eric grabbed me by my neck, holding me in place like one would a cat. To be fair, I was reacting just as feral, snarling and trying to twist free. Electricity simmered over my skin, reaching him... and not burning him.  Again I twisted my head in exorcism-like manner only to catch a glimpse of a deep purple glove that shimmered again. 

Fucking magic!

"Let go, you fucking bastard!"

Eric just clicked his tongue. "Manners, lover." His grip tightened further. "I want answers and if you were less stubborn to begin with, you'd admit, that our goal actually align." He shook me for good measure. I coughed before kicking back, hoping to hit his leg. It was like kicking a big rock. Nothing happened an my foot hurt. 

"Stop being a brat and comply. I only like brats when I fuck them."

I choked on my spit. 

The room buzzed, tension simmering like a live wire. Pam's smug smirk grated against my already frayed nerves, and Eric watched me with that insufferable twinkle of amusement in his eyes, like I was the punchline to some thousand-year-old joke.

Megs, meanwhile, was still muttering about how "nobody appreciates what it takes to be a witch" as she rummaged through a bag that looked suspiciously like it had once belonged to a Victorian apothecary. She pulled out a vial of something iridescent and held it up to the light.

"I'm not drinking that," I said flatly, taking a cautious step back only to bump into tall, blonde and dickish. Immediately, I stepped forward again but he just followed, now glued to my backside.

Megs rolled her eyes. "It's not for drinking, Einstein. It's for..." She trailed off, waving the vial vaguely in the air. "...you know. Mystical purposes."

Pam leaned in, her grin wicked. "By all means, Megs. Mystify her."

"Yeah, not happening. The last time you did that I was..." Wait, where was I then? I tried to remember, but my memories slipped away the moment I tried to reach for them, much like a dream in the morning.

"Told you, lover. Same goals."

"Ugh."

His low chuckle reverberated against my ear. 

As Megs stepped closer again, I felt my skin crackle. "I'm serious Megs. Over my dead body!"

"That can be arranged." Pam lunged at me, however Eric grasped her mid jump, holding her down. 

"Remember last time? She fried your favorite Chancel costume right of your bones."

"Hence the murder attempt", Pam growled but stayed put, merely shooting daggers with her eyes. 

I eyed her suspiciously, ready to strike at a moments notice, if necessary. Well... I think... I still didn't understand the sparkling bit my skin did, but it seemed to work on instinct, so I was placing my trust in it... not that I had any other options really.