Pacifier

🌹Camille🌹

"What the fuck was that?" hissed John pushing me up against his bedroom door as it slammed shut behind us.

"Calm down doll I'm just doing as I'm told..." i smirked rolling my eyes at him, using the nickname he'd given me knowing that my smirk and that word combined would get under his skin, wind him up a little bit more. Just enough more.

He stood over me, slammed his hand against the door not so far from my cheek, but he didn't touch me and I knew he never would, so I just held his gaze, didn't even flinch.

"Yeah? And who exactly told you to get my 16 year old sister drunk in her fuckin..." his voice caught in his throat, cheeks flushing as he stopped himself, coughed and lowered his voice. Embarrassed. "In her fuckin pants..." he hissed.

I bit back a smile, knowing that that was the last thing he wanted to see on me in the moment.

"Van," i shrugged and he shook his head, fist clenched above me to the left. I watched the vein in his neck pulsing and felt a shudder run through me. People had always struggled to make me feel a thing but Johnny didn't even have to try. Even now, when I should have been terrified, when I should have been choosing my words carefully to save myself from his rage, I was choosing my words carefully for the opposite reason.

"Don't lie to me Milly you're shit at lying to me..." he said, his teeth gritted, his pupils flaring when I held his gaze and shrugged my shoulders, attempting to push off from the door and past him, but his hand caught my shoulder and shoved me, held me, back against the door.

His weight against me should have taken my breath away for all the wrong reasons, but as his eyes burned into mine, his jaw clenched as he demanded the truth, i felt my heart skip a beat and paint a smirk on my lips.

I crossed my arms over my chest, glowered up at him, clever little smirk stirring him as my lips curved.

"Oh please Johnny, as if I'd take orders from anyone else...." I said looking up at him in the darkness of his bedroom. The only light leaked in through the window behind us, it grazed my cheek and my jaw, perhaps it cut my lip, but it didn't touch him. He was shadowing, towering above me, looking down at me with a darkness in his eyes.

"Nows not the time to..."

"Wind you up?" i raised my brow, raised my finger to trace the line of his jaw. I felt him shake beneath my touch. It took everything in me not to stand up a little straighter, speak so close to his lips that mine brushed them on the offbeat.

He stood stiff, glaring at me. I was winding him up.

"I'm not lying to you darlin," i said, voice silky smooth, "I am, as always, the lesser of two evils, Van doesn't have a choice..." i said, watching Johnny trying to work it out but for all his knowledge of the game we played and the life of Bottlemen girls, how often they were more dangerous than his own, he couldn't work this one out. When it came to Isabelle he was blind. She would always be to him, the sweet little six year old who had cried because he'd stepped on a spider on their way home. The girl who couldn't bare to leave his side.

He couldn't see what the rest of us saw. He hadn't noticed Megans shark like vision follow her around the room. He hadn't noticed Van and the lump he was constantly swallowing down whenever little Isabelle was around.

He'd only seen her, sweet, naive, shy, and he didn't understand why that couldn't last.

I heard a door slam in the corridor, Van, and in the quiet that followed I heard the chain of profanities which left him as he made his way storming down the stairs and through the balcony. Out into the street outside where he would smoke and smash a bottle or two against the wall. Perhaps he'd hunt down a Reid, do something evil. Perhaps he'd return with blood on his hands and on his shirt.