Anathema

☾Chapter Ten

A/N

unedited bishes,

also thanks for keeping me ranked on this for the past week it means so much <3

North will not look,

she will, not, look.

But damn, she really, honestly, can't completely - no.

She shouldn't, she really shouldn't. Not at all.

But she can't help it, she really can't. And maybe it's because his shirt is off, and maybe it's because his hair is still damp and tousled in that - I-care-but-not-enough - way that would make any woman's blood rush in her ears and eyelids clamp against her cheeks. But she can't, damn help it. After showering in her shower - and maybe it's even because the thought of the Chauvert boys showering in the same place that her and her sister bathed as children. In fact the very notion that he's standing in North's bedroom - the exact one where her mother told her stories of terrible monsters with sharp teeth and black eyes. Is almost laughable.

"See something you like?"

Then North's frowning, all turned-down lip corners and furrowed brows that might imitate caterpillars that immediately erase any of the joyous laughter that was ready to bubble out just moments prior. Archie is an asshole, a real, shitfaced, fuckin' asshole.

North snorts, it rings in her ears and screams 'sarcastic'. "Very funny Archie, but no. I don't see much of anything at all." Then she's smirking, and her lips are twitching in the sort of amusement that would make any 'bad boy' jealous of her skills - or at least that's what she thinks. 

"North." Archer tuts, a smirk of his own matching the woman's across from him, his feet eating up the distance in a few strides, pressing her against the wall. And as much as it should make her uncomfortable, she knows Archer is simply a puppy with too-many teeth, and too-much bark. A puppy that could easily be picked up by his scrawny little neck with her own incisors. "We all know my brother is a little," Archer trails off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his low-riding sweatpants that had "coincidentally" not gotten splattered in blood. "Too, soft." He gives a shrug, coupling with a little cock of the head that makes North wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Cedric isn't soft," she defends, folding her arms in-between her and Archer. In the process rubbing his chest - uh-oh.

In the short blink of an eye, Archer's smirk folds into a blinding arrogant grin that splits his cheeks into something akin to child-like innocence. It's almost comical on his menacing stance.

There's a sort of air wrapping itself around North's neck, intertwining it's suffocating fingers into her skin and pulling like some sort of sharp imagined string. A burning sensations starts at the side of her head, one she recognizes as the predatory gaze of one of the Chauvert boys. Considering that Archer stood in front of her, she assumed that the other one was standing behind her.  

"My turn." Cedric growls from the side of them, leaning menacingly against the door in clenching fists and odd stares, his dark black eyes zeroed in on his brother's, completely avoiding North.

Assholes, North grumbles in her head, the Chauvert boys are assholes.

"Of course," North grunts out, feeling all-too awkward that Archie still hasn't moved from his invasion of her personal space. His eyes all-too ornery, and his teeth clenching in some-sort of predatory grin towards his younger brother.