My Bloody Valentine

Prologue - Try This On For Size

(a/n: okay, so, like I said. Gore. Suggestive themes. Swearing. Just be ready XD these guys are potty mouths, rereading it made that very clear XD v&c! No flames please! Thanks, guys! :D

Update: So uhm I just realized that this is a prologue but isn't something that happens before the main plot arch. Aren't a dumb? So yeah, this is more of a prologue in that it's meant to give you a sense of the characters and stuff before you read. Sorry bout the mix up!)

"I can shove it if you want,"

She looked at him, her eye's widening marginally, just enough for him to notice.

"You're totally sure. Like, absolutely. Let's be honest here, I'm thinking this is your first time."

It was his turn to stare at her, his fist tightening marginally.

"What, am I not good enough for you? You act all high and mighty, but I doubt you're all that skilled either."

His voice was tight, strained even, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.

She was just as stiff, her eyebrows drawn low over her eyes in worry, suspicious of how well he could perform.

They stared at each other, tension in muggy, steamy air around them. Their gazes were locked onto each other, unable to move, to blink, to breathe through the strain in the air. Suddenly, the tension broke, and he abruptly put out his hand, huffing and annoyed.

"Oh, just give me the damn knife already."

He held out his hand impatiently, watching her shift her weight to keep their soon-to-be victim pinned while still being able to hand him the knife. As he took it, he met her skeptical glare with a calm, level look; it was her turn to huff, annoyed.

"Ok, so basically, just ... I dunno, do what you want. I tend to aim for the neck, you can do that or the chest or ,just, anywhere vital. We don't want to be here too long and I doubt you're really super into this stuff."

One look at his face, and she knew she was right; this wasn't his things, it was hers, and he was just humoring her.

Still, he took the knife and jabbed the man in the neck, a look of disdain on his face as the blood bubbled up at his hesitations and openly spilled and spurted where he actually stabbed through layers of muscle and tissue. Her eyes were fixed hungrily on the blood, watching it spill, watching it froth as it ran over, watching it pool. When he glanced at her, she didn't even notice, subconsciously licking her lips.

Watching her, his chest constricted, his heart starting to race. He shifted uncomfortably, the strain in his pants awkward and cramped.

She was totally oblivious.

Jocelyn held her hand out, not even looking at him, and wiggled her fingers, impatiently waiting for the knife. Eventually she just took it from his hand, not even noticing how his hand tensed when their fingers brushed or how much heat he was putting off.

'Damn!' he thought, gritting his teeth. 'Why now? In the middle of a kill? I can't stop her, she'll just shove me out of the way and take her damn time.'

She took the knife, slicing up the dead mans arm as his blood slowed, trying to drain as much as she could before it stopped flowing. He watched, enamored, as she sat in a pool of scarlet, tracing through it with her fingertips like a child in a puddle of rainwater. She sat with her legs folded beneath her, strands of her hair falling around her in a thin curtain, the majority of it still held up in a ponytail.

Suddenly, his mind was taken from his nether-issues and brought to her beaming face, her eyes lit with a smile that was so rare for her that it seemed to light up the room. He stared at her, all past thoughts forgotten, and gaped.