Orange

Eight

What.

WHAT.

I couldn't move.

He just stared me, so sure of himself and his words. Surely, he must be joking. He has to be. My lips parted and I ran a hand down my cheeks, forcing out an awkward laugh. However, it quickly died down when I caught sight of the seriousness in his eyes.

...REALLY?!

Orion took another sip of his wine, this one much longer as he enjoyed the slight dryness of the beverage. His eyes glided back over to me, lingering their as he held the glass on his lips.

I wonder what kind of expression I had on my face, because whatever it was, it was enough to make him nearly choke on the wine.

"You're too much, Clementine," he laughed. "I didn't freak you out that much, now, did I?"

"A little bit..." I half-lied. More like really fucking freaked me out. Orion smirked, pulling me a little closer to him. Our hips bumped into each other, keeping in close contact.

I got home later that evening, the reverberation of his words still weighing heavily on my heart. 'Maybe I just want to win you the old-fashioned way.'

What the FUCK does that even mean?!

I shook my head, struggling to get my mind off things. I felt my phone buzz, only to see that it was a new message. I gasped at the name. 'Clem! Movie night?'

What the hell was Blaise texting me for? Didn't he have Eartha, now? Where was she in all of this? I sent him a simple 'okay' and tossed my phone to the side. It all was too much for me. I rubbed my temples, glancing over at the simple box television I had set up in the corner. A thin sheet of dust had settled over it.

Surely this is just him wanting to catch up. It's been a week after all—maybe he actually found a movie this time.

I sighed.

Maybe what we had really is gone forever.

Ten minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. I rocked my body up from my futon and answered his fervent knocking, only to be pulled into a fierce, harsh kiss. My hands immediately worked their way up to the man's shoulders, struggling to pull myself away as my body worked against me. I moaned into the kiss.

Blaise held tight onto me, pushing me backwards and swinging me against the shut door behind us. My back pressed onto the door, I felt him push his entire weight against my frame. There was a hunger there that couldn't be ignored. My hands weakly moved up into his wavy blond hair, locking my fingers around his silky strands.

Eventually, we separated our mouths, heaving as we tried to catch our breath.

"I've missed you," he whispered, giving me a sloppy kiss on the neck. My body was burning up against his touch. It was like his entire person was an inferno, ready to engulf all of me at a moment's notice.

"But..." my voice was weak. "...Eartha..."

He smiled wildly, rushing the tips of his hot fingers underneath my shirt. I gasped, unable to stop myself from leaning into his quick movements.

"Tonight... let's just pretend... that it's your name on my chest, alright?"

The way he held me, the way he kissed me so passionately on the lips, the way he looked at me like I was the last human on earth besides him—all of it was too much for my rationality to handle. I pushed myself against him, falling into his awaiting arms as I gave him a feeble nod in agreement.

Blaise loved living life in the fast lane. Always in a rush to get to the good part. Sometimes, though, he'd bite a little too hard or thrust a little too quick. I could never get mad at him, though. It was just amazing to feel his warmth, his touch, his love. His hands cupped my face, leaving trails of saliva trickled down my chin as he pushed his tongue against mine over and over again, wrestling for dominance. There was hardly ever a fight, in that respect. I'd roll over for him, every time. As we lay on my cheap little futon, the stresses of the day flooded away. I quickly forgot why I was so strained in the first place.

But, as always, morning came like a train. Far too fast, leaving me with whiplash as I struggled to find the last remaining taste of Blaise in my mouth. My inner thighs and arms ached like hell, but it was hardly a punishment. No, that I could live with.

What I couldn't get over was the emptiness that rested beside me.

I pushed myself up, still naked from the night of lovemaking, glancing over at the room. The male clothes that once trashed the room were now gone, leaving only my own scattered across the floor as proof that it really happened. I looked over at the television. It still sat there, untouched as always. I let out a sigh.

I pulled my phone off from the table as I prepared another bowl of shitty, shitty oatmeal when I realized a had a few messages waiting for me. Pulling up the app, I realized that they were from none other than Orion.

'We should go out again, some time. If you're up for it, that is.'

'If not, that's fine. I'm just asking just in case you don't have any plans.'

'Guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to see you again. Outside of Warehouse 44. TBH that place gives me the creeps lol.'

Those were sent early this morning, around six or so. Orion definitely didn't seem like the type to wake up early. No, that calm disposition and relaxed nature definitely struck me more as a night-owl. But expectations were like that—always meant to be broken. That's when I remembered what he said to me that evening: 'Maybe I just want to win you over the old-fashioned way.' I groaned, slamming my hands on the table in frustration.

There was no old-fashioned way. Not anymore.

Ever since Seers became increasingly popular in the United States, everyone got soul marks. All the way to the point where it was basically an unwritten law. It's been like that for decades, long before either of us were born. So, what did he know about doing things the old-fashioned way?

He's probably just trolling me. I nodded my head at the thought. Yeah. Definitely just a guy with nothing better to do at the realization of his Blankness and wanted revenge on some unsuspecting person. Someone like me. I pulled my oatmeal out of the microwave. It was disgusting, as per usual. As I ate it in agonizing silence, I affirmed one solid truth to myself: I would tell Orion to leave me alone—today—and that way, I wouldn't have to deal with his weirdness any longer.

And yet that idea made me a bit, well, sad.

Orion didn't seem like a bad guy. Maybe he was just confused. After all, he was the eldest son of Carl Rutherford. There must've be a lot of pressure for him to bear a soul mark. But since he's come out as a Blank to the public, he must be dealing with a lot of shit from the sidelines. I nodded, satisfied with my idea. Yeah, that definitely had to be it.

Either way, he had to go. Best to let him down now before things got complicated.