Trueblood : Five Payments

Jealousy

"Jesus, Sook. You look like shit," Lafayette sidled up to her as she grabbed some extra spoons out of the metal canister in the back hallway.

Sookie cast him a withering glance before sighing deeply. "Long nights," she answered vaguely. "I'm not getting much sleep."

Her friend's beautiful, almond-shaped eyes slitted in amusement. "Someone helping you with that?"

Her head shot up and her eyes rounded. "What do you mean?"

He held his hands up in innocence. "Just asking. You got someone in your bed? Insomnia can fuckin' fantastic if it's the result of fantastic fuckin'."

Sookie blushed and looked away.

"No," she denied sheepishly. "No one's helping me with it. I'm not sleeping all by myself, thank you."

And it was the truth. As Lafayette snickered and smiled knowingly, Sookie couldn't help her deepening blush, despite her innocent claim. No, it was absolutely true that no one had been in her bed over the last eight days. That was the problem. The sleeplessness was caused by thinking of someone else in her bed. Every night since this whole stupid feeding deal began, Sookie had spent too many hours in bed tossing restlessly. Usually her quiet nights alone had been one of her favorite parts of the day. It meant she couldn't hear a single thought from a human head and she cherished the silence as it wrapped around her, as snuggly as her blankets.

Now, the silence was eclipsed by the loneliness. And the loneliness was the worst on the nights Eric left after sipping his payments, taking his deep purrs, trespassing hands and mercifully quiet thoughts with him.

A spoon slipped from her grasp and pinged on the floor tiles.

"Fuck," she muttered, bending to pick it up.

The curve of her ass was too much for her over-sexed friend and he laid a resounding smack on her left cheek.

Sookie shot upright. "Hey!"

Lafayette chuckled naughtily. "Come on, sweet cheeks. Jesus and I are going to a club in Shreveport tonight. Wanna come? Blow off some steam? It'll cure what fuckin' ails ya, that's fo sho."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Trying to gay me up?"

"It ain't gay," he replied, waving a spatula whimsically in the air. "Just a club. Jesus wants to dance. Keeps sayin' we need to represent in public."

Sookie smirked. "Represent what?"

"Ah, fuck knows. Gayness. Hotness. We gotness lotness of both."

"That you do," she agreed kindly. She turned towards her tables and her spoon-less customer, but hesitated before turning back. "You're just going out to dance?"

Lafayette nodded. "Shame all the straights with our shapes, then we're going home. That's all."

She nibbled her lip, then shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Why not?"

He tugged her ponytail approvingly. He didn't see her shiver at the thought of another man who enjoyed tugging it playfully. "Best fuckin' answer in the world," he said. "We're leavin' at nine."

"Great," she said, turning back to work. "Catch up with you then."

Sookie headed back out into the dining area, feeling more empowered than she had all week. After all, it had been three days. Three. Fucking. Days. After she'd woken up the morning after the third night she'd fed him, she hadn't seen nor heard from him since. As she'd sat up in her bed, she'd been shocked to find ten bottles of iron supplements on her night stand. The expensive kind, the ones you see on the very top shelf in health food stores. There was no note, but it was obvious who had arranged them in a circle in such a personal place. She'd huffed in indignation at their mysterious appearance, noting that ten bottles was waaaay too many for just two more feedings. Presumptuous bastard.