Welcome!

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel sighed as he wrapped his fingers tightly around the small delicate stone that lye in the center of his palm. It looked to be made of a pale, white glossy marble. And on it was a series of golden symbols, like hieroglyphs decorating the small fanged shaped stone. The intricate designs held a meaning in the shadow hunter world, together they meant “A piece of me“. These particular runes were important, because Luisa always told him he was hollow. The jokes about how he was emotionless ceased on her 18th birthday when he saved up to purchase the token of his appreciation for her being one half of his only family. The other half, the smaller one, was now gone, along with her.

Family, now all he had was memories of that, and more so than ever before he truly felt…hollow. The man stuffed the fang and the golden dainty chain it hung upon, safely into his pants pocket before tugging on the soft white linen. The matching soft white suit made his skin seem even more bronzed.

With his hair pulled back Ezekiel looked like the men on the cover of GQ magazine. Something he never tried to do, but always seemed to accomplish. Z walked over to the bureau where a photo of the three children of the Clave sat peacefully collecting dust. A tanned chain of hemp hung off the corner, on it a thick golden band. Inside there was an inscription that was barely legible. Ezekiel ran the tip of his finger over the photo before lifting it and stuffing it into his duffel bag, with the rest of his belongings. The chain of hemp was placed around his neck, the ring tucked snugly beneath his shirt.

With soft, barely audible footsteps he made his way out of the place he’d called home for as long as he could remember. The duffel bag tapped lightly against his side with each long stride. He silently hoped Jezabel would be asleep, so he wouldn’t have to say goodbye. He was tired of goodbyes, but the deaths of Luisa and Lymon had at least reminded him why he couldn’t care for anyone, why he needed them to stay at a distance.

With the strap of the duffel bag holding tightly to his frame he made his way up the side of the Straygard home. The vines along the side that lead up to the girls room proved useful and he began to wonder how often she used them, if ever. With a cat like leap he was through the window looking down at an empty bed. He could hear a familiar voice just beyond the door, and he stepped back into the cover of shadow. He was sure she wouldn't be able to see him at her angle, unless he chose to step out of the darkness, he grinned knowing he wasn't sure if he wanted to be seen just yet. The only question was, when he chose to be seen, how quickly would something be thrown towards his head.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Smoothing the white of her dress down over her white linen pants Jezabel stood and silently slid back her chair from the table. Her plate was still filled with food, but in slight disarray where she had moved the food around in an attempt to look like she’d eaten something. How could she eat? How could Bel do anything? Since the battle, the funerals, the dance; Bel had stumbled through everything numb and unseeing. To her, it felt a piece of her had died in the battle. Unwhole, what how she felt. Half a person, lost.

Raising from her chair Bel nodded to her parents a few feet away in a silent goodnight as her body turned and she glided to the doorway. Bel know her mother was on her feet even before she spoke, it had been the same every time Bel wanted to be alone, someone wanted to follow her; are you ok? Can I get you anything? Time will heal the pain. All the clichés and pleasantries made it all worst. Bel reached the foot of the carved staircases before he mother reached out for her. “Jezabel, you barely ate anything.” Her mother said resting a caring hand on her shoulder. “Please darling.” It was a plea for any reacting.

Since her scream in the square Bel hadn’t spoken. Her scream for Ezekiel, for Luisa’s sake, had been her last word. It wasn’t that Bel couldn’t speak, she just didn’t have anything to say; words were pointless. And now Bel couldn’t think of words to make her mother feel better because she didn’t know the words to make anyone feel any better any more; or even words to feel. Gentle, with no malice, Bel shrugged her shoulder and began to climb the stairs. The stairs were the same ones Bel had climb the day of the battle, followed by Luisa, as they readied for battle. Their conversation light, and full of hopes and dreams; ‘I’ll tell him after the battle.” Bel had smiled. After the battle nothing had mattered but the loss, and now it was worst. Time wasn’t healing it was making it worst.

Reaching the top of the stairs Bel turned back to her mother and nodded, “Good night Mother.” She said with a blank look and an empty voice.

Opening the door to her bed room the light of the hall way spilled in creating shadows and contrast. Quickly stepping into the room Bel closed the door and blocked out the bright witchlight of the hall. There was little need for light, the street lamps spilled in enough to see the basics of the room; a bed, book case and desk all, dwarfed the large wardrobe. Crossing the room in the same perpetual daze she lived in now, Bel tugged her dress off over her head and held it up. White, the color of innocence and freshness. Funny how it represented the loss of innocence and anything but fresh. Opening the closet Bel returned it to one of the empty hangers. In the far side of the closet Jezabel knew her battle gear was hanging there. If she looked it would be clean, fresh and devoid of all remnants of battle; why couldn’t her memory be so cleaned.

Reaching to the back of her head Bel pulled on one side of the white ribbon that held her neat pony tail in place. The ribbon easily came away in her hand and Bel shook her hair loose, letting it cascade around her shoulders. Dropping the ribbon on to her desk Bel ran her fingers through her hair a few times and she turned towards the window watching the curtains blow lightly and enjoying the feel of the breeze on her skin. Dropping her hands Bel gently wrapped them around her middle hugging herself and feeling the fabric of the thin, white camisole she wore, her skin was puckering at the chill of the breeze but it felt refreshing; or maybe any feeling was refreshing. Pulling at the hem of the cami Bel began to lift it meaning to remove it before climbing into bed.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel tugged lightly at the thin chain in his pocket, and it slid out rather effortlessly. With the fang like stone now in his hand he looked down at it as he heard the door to the bedroom open, and close. He paid no mind to the presence just yet, he was too overwhelmed by the thought that it wasn’t just a nightmare, Luisa was really gone. Gone forever. He was sure now, completely positive that he, Ezekiel Tobias Marrows was not meant to have emotions, not meant to feel. It was just as he’d believed before Luisa and Lymon had gotten him to see otherwise. The more you felt, the more you gave your self to family and friends, the more likely you were bound to loose yourself.

He closed his fist around the chain once more and brought his eyes back to focus about the room. They settled almost immediately on a familiar frame. The stunning build of the Straygard cousins, it was something that couldn’t go without notice. Their family had Godly genes, he wouldn’t even be surprised if they could stun elves into a coma, how about that for self defense. Little devils were perverts anyhow, so it was a definite possibility.

Z didn’t look away as she reached for the hem of the camisole that graced her skin like a blanket of silk formed to accentuate her perfection. She was gorgeous, and totally off limits. Besides what were you suppose to tell a girl you were raised looking to as a sister, that you’d bone the hell out of her if you had the chance? Or the fact that she too made you feel, made you more alive, made you human. No, he couldn’t have any more good byes, there was only so much pain you could cause yourself. And, if keeping her at a distance to preserve what positive memories he had was necessary than he would hold true to his end of the one sided bargain.

He cleared his throat and stepped into the pale moonlight that created a sort of spotlight from its angle through the open window. He felt the cool night breeze touch his cheek, and the grin he’d been wearing before came to life once more. “Now see, I had always thought a guy would at least need to bring you out to dinner first, but,” he said with the slightest shrug, “if were skipping ahead to dessert I can live with that too.” he winked and chuckled lightly, a barely audible sound.

[Jezabel Straygard]

The breeze on her skin was a welcomed feeling; it didn’t ask questions or presume things, no the breeze just let her feel. The moonlight was like a pool on the floor in front of her, Bel’s now bare feet perched on the edge of the flooded pool.

Brushing her hands along the hem of the camisole, Bel wanted it gone. She wanted all of her mourning clothes gone, wearing them was remembered Luisa and everyone else was dead and just for tonight Bel didn’t want to remember that fact. Bel was pulling the hem up over her flat stomach marked with scares of Marks when she realized she wasn’t alone.

The figure that stepped out into the room was as familiar to Bel as her own shadow. His hair was pulled back and the moonlight reflected of the mourning robes he was wearing. The moonlight shining through his clothes defining his torso and the muscles of his arms, though the thin fabric Bel could see scars from his Marks and some left over bruises from the battle. Both of them bore similar scars, Marks and bruises.

Bel rolled her eyes at his comment, unsure if it came across in the shadow of the room. “Ezekiel.” Bel said more as a statement then anything else. The last time she’d said his name had been in the square while the battle raged around them, then it hadn’t been spoken it had been a scream, a desperate need for him for Luisa’s sake if not her own. Now in her bedroom Bel wasn’t sure who she was saying it for. Having him there made her feel, she just wasn’t sure the feeling.

In her bedroom? What was Ezekiel Marrows doing in her room? How had he got there? The questions ran through her mind, but she didn’t voice them she knew he’d have climb the trellis and snuck in, the why didn’t matter. He was there and that’s all that mattered. It was wrong now to still feel the way she did for him, her emotions shot be focused on Luisa. Yet as he stood there in her room, Bel felt her heart beat just a little faster.

Dropping her the hem of her top Bel just looked at him. Normally his remark would have earned a come back, a slap, or a giggle at the very least; Bel had nothing. “I’m sure you always skip to dessert.” Bel said turning from him and crossing to her bed. It was comfortable as she sat down on the edge and busied herself with the edge of the blanket by her pillow. “if you’d have…”

Falling in to silence Bel let the words hang between them, she was too tired and numb to play their game of banter. It was pointless now without a referee to call time on their sessions. Looking up at him Bel noticed he looked just the same as he had at the funeral, but the moonlight was casting shadows making him look more drawn and tired; maybe he was tired.

“You look tired.” She said her eyes stuck on him unable to look away and, in truth, not wanting too. Her eyes went to his hand, it was tight in a fist and Bel wondered what he was holding or holding in with such force. Running her hand over the blanket next to her Bel hoped it looked like an invitation to join her, she was too tired to talk. Funny how a few days not talking could make you so accustom to it.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

He heard her say his name, and the tone she held was not her own. It wasn’t playful nor annoyed, it was simply…empty. As if she’d been drained of life just as he had. He wished he could take the pain she felt and inject it into himself. There was no need for them both to feel so void and lost. He knew the pain she felt was most likely twinged with guilt, her parabatai was gone. But his feelings were somewhat shrouded in selfishness, he need Luisa. He needed her to make him feel like he had a place in the world, to remind him that family wasn’t just something granted through heredity.

She’d been his mother figure since her own parents died, he was a preteen when she came to live with himself, Lymon, and The Clave. At the time Lymon himself was a new addition, but Luisa, she was different. She taught him things that no one else ever could have, and now the lessons were buried deep within him, as her body now rested way too early in her life buried deep in Idris soil. He felt his grin slowly disappear at her lack of a retort. She was taking this worse than he thought. He’d lost a brother and a sister, who would be joining his parents, but she looked like hell, at least for a Straygard.

He let the piece of jewelry he’d come to give her fall back into his pocket. He wasn’t sure just how to present it to her yet. “I haven’t slept in two days, if that’s what you mean,” he said softly, crossing from the window over to the bed to sit beside her. It was odd to be so close to her in a place he would have never pictured himself actually being. Ezekiel paused before letting his hand fall over hers. “It’s not your fault you know,” he began, more sincere. “She ran out into the court without either of us, and it,” he paused once more not wanting to continue, “it was her time Bel.” he said looking away from her now.

“I came to tell,” he said but his voice faded. He promised himself no more good byes. He took his hand from atop of hers and wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her close to him. If she wanted him out she would have said so, and there was no harm in spending more time with her before he left. Besides, who knew if he’d ever come back, or if he truly wanted to.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Jezabel felt her body tense at Ezekiel’s proximity as she crossed the room and came to sit by her on the bed, it wasn’t that she didn’t want him there it just felt suddenly wrong while feeling so right. Quickly Bel pushed down anything she may be feeling for Zee and the overall situation of him been in her room. It was wrong. And it would be disrespectful and insulting to Luisa if Bel let herself feel what had become almost instinctual in Zee’s presence. Zee was almost like a brother to her, at the very least a friend, after all he was Lusia’s brother; nothing more then a friend.

The air around the two of them had always been punctuated with playful, sometimes angry, comments. Their banter easy, and relaxing. Yet recently (how recently Bel wasn’t sure, denial of the new feeling helped mask the time frame) the air had been character with something new, stronger and more potent and exciting. In the weeks, maybe months or longer, before Luisa’s death Bel had found herself reveling more and more in Zeek’s company and presence in a room. Of course Lusia had noticed, she noticed everything, but Bel had denied it until the day of the battle….Then, finally, Bel had agreed to tell Zeek after everything was over, but when it was all over…It had all been over.

As Ezekiel spoke Bel could see the truth in his statement reflected in the shadows under his eyes. Ina moment of selfish vanity Bel wondered if she looked that bad, but quickly realized she probably did. Yet no matter how bad she may look, Bel couldn’t seem to make herself care as she may have done before the battle. How quickly things had changed. “Sleep isn’t easy to come by right now, is it?” She asked, knowing for the past two nights she herself had lain in her bed awake. Sleep was always just too far away to grab a hold of.

As his hand fell onto her own, Bel felt the familiar warmth of a touch. Even feeling the touch of another hurt and Bel had to resist the urge to pull her hand out and away. Whatever pain she thought a touch could cause his next words hurt even more. Of course it was her fault, she wanted to scream, she was Luisa’s Parabatai she should have been watching her back, anticipating her moves, stopping her from getting killed. It was her fault she had been preoccupied in the hall, funny how she couldn’t even remember what had distracted her so much that she’d missed Luisa’s exit and been a few minutes to late to watch her back.

Her time? It wasn’t her time for anything except life, Luisa deserved life. Bel again felt the selfish wish that she should have died, even if not instead of Luisa then with her. If she was dead she wouldn’t have to feel so dead, empty. It would be a release. “It wasn’t her time…it wasn’t anyone’s time Zeek, it was all down to fault. And Luisa’s death is mine, I know that.” Bel said in a dry voice as she stared at their hands.

Ezekiel spoke again and Bel looked up from their hands to his face as his words faded into the shadows that sat between them. What did he come to tell her? What couldn’t he say?

When he pulled his hand away the momentary loss of that touch hurt more then the initial touch itself, then his arm was around her and Bel felt everything crumble. The walls she’d built around herself crashed down as his arm wound itself around her shoulder. The damn on her tears cracked, so much so she wanted to pull away. No matter how much she wanted to be away from Zeek and his touch she couldn’t pull herself out from under his warm arm. Instead Bel let herself lean into his embrace, her head coming to rest more on his chest then his shoulder. Her arms reaching up to clasp together on his other shoulder, deepening the hug and pulling him to her. Bel didn’t want to not feel this, it was more comfort then she’d felt in days. Shared loss shared memories and shared pain.

Comforted by the almost silent beat of his heart the only thing that disturb the comfort of the hug what the knot digging into her cheek. Releasing her hand from his shoulder Bel lifted her cheek slightly and tried to smooth out the knot. It wasn’t his shirt, his crisp white shirt was un-creased, no, the knot was under his shirt. Bel rested her head on his shoulder and absently her fingers traced the shape. “What is it?” She asked in barely a whisper, her mouth so close to his ear she knew he’s hear it. The object felt like a ring, small and round, its texture masked by that of his shirt.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel half smiled, it was weak but it existed. “No, I’ve been up collecting her things, so the Clave doesn’t just throw them away,” he said a tad bitter. No wonder he had no heart. Yeah, a few wives of the Clave members cried at her funeral, but some hadn’t even showed. He sucked up what bit of him felt pain, forcing it down, as far as he could push it. He could barely bare thinking anymore, and back in Luisa’s or Lymon’s room it was all he could do. He needed a friend, someone to look at instead of his framed photos, and hell, Jezabel was easy on the eyes. And somehow, though he’d never admit it, her presence calmed his flickering thoughts.

He said nothing to her comment on fault, it wasn’t true. He knew this, but there was almost no chance he could get her to see things the same, at least not without time, and a lot of it. He felt her lean into him more and he dropped his hands a bit, letting them fall just above her hips. The position was familiar, though the last time they were in it they were both on their feet. And the thoughts zipping through his mind were much more animalistic. Now they were torn, battered, bruised, and almost confused.

He breathed in her scent, and closed his eyes, allowing the fragrance to fill his senses and calm his raging mind. The blazing anger he felt toward the Claves less than fitting reaction to his sibling’s death seemed to cool with her proximity. He could lose himself in the moment, but that would be unfitting. He wasn’t sure what to say, or do and he couldn’t bring himself to admit he was great full to at least have her. There was no need for him to embarrass himself before he left. The kiss had most likely been a fluke of some higher power having enjoyment of watching him suffer. Every time he seemed to come close to something, it was taken away he wouldn’t let himself touch Bel’s life with his curse.

His eyes opened at the sound of her voice and he looked down ready to ask her what she was talking about, but he froze. “This,” he asked tugging at the hemp chain that held Luisa’s golden band. According to his sister it was her father and mothers wedding band welded together to represent their unity even in death. Ezekiel shrugged a little, “I wanted to make sure something of Lu’s was mine to keep,” he tucked it back into his shirt and looked to Bel. “What can I say, I’m a softie,” he joked, attempting to smile.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Jezabel listened to Zeek as he told her what he’d been doing that had kept him awake, he sounded resigned almost and still sad. The half smile he gave her was hardly a ghost on his face, different from the smiles of satisfaction and happiness she knew from years past. Bel found herself remembering the look on his face after their fleeting shared kiss, both of them out of breath and smiling in the half shadows on the street. How happy she’d been to finally feel his lips on hers, now she wondered if even a kiss would make her smile.

“Ever the heartfelt Clave.” Bel said sharing his view in what their leaders would do with Luisa’s stuff. “I just don’t sleep, I keep seeing the square over and over again.” Bel said in a low whisper, she didn’t want to add to his pain with her own. As she’d lain awake since the battle and often wondered if he blamed her. She should have protected his sister better; she should have been at her side. In the dark of the night each time she saw the square she never got to Luisa’s side in time, every time had the same outcome.

Bel sought comfort the closeness of Zeek’s body wanting more of him, wanting to be closer. As his hand fell to waist she moved closer trying not to want him so much, her emotions felt wrong. She wanted him in everyway. Wanted to feel his lips on hers and his hands on her body, but she knew she should be feeling that way not now and maybe not ever. All her feelings felt wrong she was alive while his sister was dead if he didn’t feel any anger towards her for that she sure felt enough for them both.

Even with the conflicting emotions raging inside one thing was sure, it didn’t hurt quiet so much with Zeek here, or maybe it was just more bearable. Closing her eyes gently Bel finally felt just how tired she really was after the past few days of no sleep and all the activity before that.

This close to Zeek she could feel the tone of his chest muscles under the think fabric of his shirt. His heart beat slightly unevenly and Bel wondered if it was anger or sadness causing the hitch in his heart. It was hard to resist the urge to reach out and run her hand over his chest and down his flat, tone stomach, but Bel wouldn’t ruin the moment with an act that may be inappropriate. Their last intimate encounter had been impulsive, now it might just be bad taste.

The only contact she allowed herself was as her fingers traced the shape of the object under his shirt. Bel opened her eyes and looked up at him as he looked down at her, his face was so close she could feel his breath tickle her face as he spoke. Pulling the cord from his shirt Bel watched the slight light in the room reflect of the gold of the ring. Looking at it closely it looked familiar and Bel was sure she’d seen it on Luisa, not Zeek, before.

Zeek confirmed Bel’s thoughts when he explained it was Luisa’s, but he used his name for her; Lu. The sound of her nickname was more painful to hear then her actual name; it was fresh and made her heart ache with missing. Bel wanted to reach out and touch it, but she knew it was his connection to his sister not her’s to her friend. Bel swallowed hard, but didn’t look away as he tucked it back in and she nodded.

“I think it’s a good idea, keep her close to you.” Bel said realizing she had very little, if anything that had been Luisa’s. She had memories, but right now they were to painful to think about let alone remember. As he joked her was a softie Bel noticed this smile was a little stronger then the last, but still lacked feeling. Bel let her hand drop from her cheek and run down his chest to his stomach then hip where she let it rest there. “Wanting to keep her with you doesn’t make you soft, Zeek. She was your sister, its ok to miss her and want a piece of her with you.” Bel knew he’d been joking, but she knew him well enough that sometimes he needed reassurance about feeling anything.

“I miss her too.” She said dropping her eyes from his face and letting her head rest on his chest again. She wanted to apologize, but she wasn’t sure what for; for living, for not been there, for everything? Instead she inhaled deeply and took in his scent once more, “Will you stay for a while?” She asked suddenly not eager to be alone as she had wanted when she left the dinner table. Been with Zeek was different Bel felt comforted and didn’t want that to go away.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel chuckled softly. He could see she was in a rut like himself, but he was glad she could still make the slightest attempt at humor. He wondered if she felt near as hollow, or if there were things she wished she could have said. Even to Lymon, Z could see the boys face burned to the back of his eyelids, the goofy, swoon-ish grin he always carried in Bel’s presence. The memory of trying to teach his little brother how to be the perfect gentleman was fresh in his mind. It seemed ever since then the kid ran to doors to open them for a lady, or went out of his way to compliment the female clave members. Lymon reminded him a lot of himself when he was younger, only Ezekiel always got into trouble. Mon never broke rules.

He took a deep breath and smoothed her hair, kissing the top of her head. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it and he paused a moment before letting his fidgety fingers play with her soft hair. It wasn’t like him to not know what to do, but how did you carry on when you wanted nothing more than to be with someone who could probably never feel the same. He wondered silently if she realized he was acting more like Mon then himself, or if she knew the reason. He’d never been able to ask Lu’s permission, and now he was sure that was confirmation it wasn’t meant to be, or more so he was unworthy.

He found it a little ironic that she was saying the word soft as her fingers trailed the length of his chest, if she continued with the gentle touches he was bound to be anything but soft. And that was partly due to the fact he’d never been in her room, not to mention his body yearned for a completion of what they’d started days ago. He was in need of the ultimate distraction, but it seemed his body and his brain weren’t agreeing on much. After all, he’d been disgusted by the girls that were practically throwing themselves at him after the funeral, and Ezekiel thought he was heartless.

Z nodded slowly before realizing she couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah, I’ll stay for longer. And uh, I was hoping you could hold on to some of Lu and Mon’s things, at least till I’m placed permanently.” he said in an almost monotone voice. He regained himself before speaking again, “I can bring some things over in the morning,” he said trying to cover up the fact he was leaving. She didn’t need to say to good bye to anyone else, just as he didn’t. “Bel?” his voice was soft, different than his usual cocky attitude, defenses were down for the most part. “Would it be easier if I left you alone after tonight?” he hoped her answer would be no, but if it would help her heal to not need to see Lu’s brother he would do what he could.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Having Z so close was bitter sweet in nature. It was so hard having him so close having his presence bring up memories of Luisa and Lymon. Luisa was her closest friend outside of her family, she’d become more then a friend and more then family she was her other half. Every memory Bel had of Luisa also contained Z. And Lymon, the adorable young gentlemen who would grow to be as handsome a man as Z was, he carried all the manners of his older brother. Bel wasn’t blind to Mon’s angelic and goofy smile that he always wore around her, a smile that made Bel smile. Having Z so close reminded her of Lymon.

No matter how many memories Z brought up just by been close, Bel wouldn’t send him away. For every memory he brought to mind that made her cry, only Z could bring to mind the memories to make her laugh, smile and blush. He was a remedy for her sadness, not taking it away but dulling it a little; her only hope was she did the same for him.

Bel felt Z’s chest expand as he took a breath and his hand travel across his hair followed by a kiss making her scalp tingle and a smile shimmer on her lips. It felt like the most natural feeling in the world to have his lips touch her softly and his hands play with her hair. Bel knew she shouldn’t let herself get used to the feeling of been in his arms, it was wrong he was almost her brother. No, no that was wrong Bel didn’t think of him that way. You could think of some one as your brother when all you really wanted to do was reach ups and kiss him deeply while letting your hands wander.

Her wandering hands had an agenda all of their own as they trailed over his chest and stomach and across to his hip. His body was hard and warm and Bel could remember what it felt like to be pressed against it as their lips fought for control over each other. Bel wondered if he was remembering their kiss as her fingers plucked at the hem of his crisp white shirt, her knuckles brushing his bare skin beneath.

It felt natural to ask him to say, but Bel didn’t mean just a while longer, she wanted him the whole night. It was a daring move to even ask, now she just had to make it clear she wanted him to stay till the morning; always. Before Bel could speak Z asked his own questions. “I’ll take care of anything of hers for as long as you need me too, Z.” She told him without looking up for fear it would break the spell.

Leave her alone? Leave, go somewhere else tonight? The very idea had Bel’s heart racing, just as she wanted him to stay he wanted to know if leaving her would be easier on her. He was putting her feelings first and that warmed Bel. “I don’t want you to go. Having you here is easier then been with out you.” Bel told him before sitting up and looking at him. Her hand drifted from his hip to his upper thigh, “Z, stay. Stay the night with me.” She asked lightly staring into his eyes still slightly masked in shadow.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel’s thoughts wandered far from the confines of the bedroom, to memories of the past. He remembered the day a few clave members had finally decided to tell him where he came from, and why he was left to the Clave to raise. Luisa had held his hand tightly as they both listened to the wretched stories of their parent’s demise. They spoke of a circle, of dangerous times and rebels. Ezekiel now looked down to his hand it was a pale milky white, the vanilla moon casting its ghostly splash of color about bits of the room.

It hurt to know he would never hold Luisa’s hand again, never walk Lymon to the city library as he always used to when his brother was just a boy. Never here Luisa egging him on about silly things just to see how aggravated she could get him. The only comforting thought he had was that she hadn’t suffered. It would have killed him to have to watch demon poison cycle through her blood stream, to have watched her convulsing. No, he thanked the angel that at least it had been swift.

His attention was brought away from his friendless hand, by the wandering fingertips of the only living person he cared about. All else had been stolen from him, and he wouldn’t dare let his wicked fate affect hers. “You’ll hold some of Lymon’s things too?” he asked hopefully, his voice soft as silk. Ezekiel couldn’t look at her as he said the words, it was still a shock to know his baby brother was gone, forever. As she pulled away a little to look at him, the tips of his fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He smiled weakly, she was so beautiful.

“You’re all I have left here,” he admitted as his eyes searched for hers. “I don’t want to lose you too,” he said as his hand moved to be atop of hers. “I’ll stay the night, but you have to promise me something,” he grinned. Normally he would have made a sly remark to her request, but he wasn’t up for bickering.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Zeek may have been sat on the bed next to her, both of them holding on to a piece of the other, but Bel knew his mind was elsewhere. He was quiet and thinking something she was reluctant to interrupt. As he fell quiet she fell silent too, content to share the closeness with him.

Since the battle whenever Bel let her mind wander it went back to the same thing, the same image and the same moment. Luisa in the square and Bel struggling to get to her while already knowing it was too late. “Luisa.” She whispered as more of a gasp as the image played again in her mind, her hands knotted into fists and she tried to push it out of her head. It was her last real image of Luisa, and something she knew she would see for a long time to come if she ever stopped seeing it.

The feel of his body under her fingers made Bel want to let her fingers wander further, she wanted to see how far he would let her go. Pushing boundaries was nothing new between her and Zeek. The mention of his brother Lymon made her stop and she rested her hand gently on his hand. “I’ll hold on to anything you need me too, but why? Are you leaving?” She asked quietly, unsure if she actually wanted to hear his answer. The very idea of him leaving scared her, Bel wasn’t sure she could handle not seeing him everyday or even just knowing he was close by. Zeek had always meant a lot to her, even when she wasn’t willing to admit it, but now with Luisa gone he was everything to her.

The way Zeek looked at her sent her heart beat racing and Bel was sure if the light was better that he would have seen the color in her cheeks deepen with the blush. It was the most intimate look she’d ever shared with Zeek, or any man. And he was the only man she had ever invited to stay with her for the night, in truth he was the only man she would ever ask. “You’re never going to lose me Zeek.” She said honestly and desperately wanted to finish the sentence with the declaration of love she was ready to give him, but she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it.

His grin made her smile too, and she wondered if he was going to give her some sarcastic retort. “Whatever it is, I promise.” Right there and then Bel wasn’t sure there was anything she could ever, and would ever, refuse him. She was at his mercy and she didn’t feel the least bit lacking for feeling so submissive to him.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

Ezekiel was almost sure he’d heard Luisa’s name spoken, but when he looked to her lips they were still. Men didn’t cry, especially not in front of women they loved. He needed to empower her, make her feel strong, beautiful, and desired. Not alone, hopeless, meaningless as he felt. She had hope, she had family, purpose. Ezekiel Marrows on the other hand had nothing, and anything he gained seemed to always be stolen from him. As if some force we’re telling him ‘don’t get too close, for whatever you touch will turn to dust’, a curse of Midas one would never want.

He could feel a well of fresh saline brim in his dark brown eyes, looking away for a moment he licked his lips and scoffed slightly, as if to frighten any emotions away. “For a little bit, but I won’t be gone for too long, and I promise to keep in touch, not in the way I’d like to,” he said with a small grin eyeing the hem of her camisole to where it met her the hem line of the too familiar pain of mourning slacks. His eyes quickly moved back to hers, wandering if she truly understood where his mind was headed despite himself.

Ezekiel heard her say the words he longed to hear, he would never lose her, if only the words she said bared meaning to the force that tore through his life like a wrecking ball. He smiled though, no need to make her pity him, he needed no ones pity.

Anything, that was the place he’d have like her to be a week ago or so. But tonight, he couldn’t repeat his sad attempts to search for love in all the wrong places. As if someone so beautiful could truly love a beast as himself, a cursed shadowhunter, he felt almost equal to a downworlder. Ezekiel brought her hand to his heart, laying the palm of her hand against the thin cotton top he wore. He was sure she’d be able to feel his slightly elevated heart beat, his warm skin beneath.

“I swear I’ll write, and if I don’t I give you permission to tear out my heart and feed it to the fairies,” he said laughing the smallest bit. It was a childish chuckle, as he’d always said that before he gave his most sincere promises, it was a reason Luisa always said he was rather grim, even as a child. “With that said, I need you to promise me, you won’t come looking for me. With my luck I’m better off not found,” he said the second bit just below a whisper. Barely audible.

“And two,” he said before pausing he wasn’t entirely sure he could say what he wanted to. “You know I’m selfish, J-, just don’t give yourself away just yet. Okay?” He didn’t wait for a response, but dug deep in his pocket bringing out a small golden chain and laying it in the palm of her hand, curling her fingers over it in effort to make sure she would let go. That she would accept what he was giving her, even if she didn’t accept him.

[Jezabel Straygard]

Every time she thought of Luisa or that day and that battle Bel wanted to cry. Every time her heart broke a little more and she could feel the sobs rising up in her chest. This time she didn’t give into the tears, instead she fisted her hands and pushed everything away. All she concentrated on was the feel of Z’s body under her fingers and her head on his shoulder. Ezekiel was everything to her; he was all she wanted and all she had. Her only hope was that he realized she was more then willing to be all that to him too.

His tongue flicked out over his lips and Bel remembered what his tongue and his lips felt like against hers. In that split second she wanted to feel them both again. Looking up at him she could see the pools brimming in his eyes, she didn’t think less of him for wanting to cry but she knew Z wouldn’t show his emotions; that just wasn’t him.

“Z, please don’t go.” Bel said looking away from his as she pleaded and fought back her own tears. The idea of been in Alicante with Luisa, Lymon and now Z was heartbreaking. Bel wasn’t sure how she would cope without knowing he was in the same city just a few minutes from her. The thought of him been gone was something she couldn’t bring herself to accept. “Letters really aren’t enough now Ezekiel.” She said in understanding of the way she knew he and she would rather stay in touch. Everything in their relationship had changed after their kiss in the ally way little more then a week ago, and then everything had changed again at the battle. Having him there in her room, Bel felt it had changed again, or was about to and it was a step she was more then happy to take.

Bel was telling the truth when she said he would never lose her because she would never leave him or stop loving him or wanting him. As a smile covered his face Bel hoped it was his silent way of saying she wouldn’t lose him either.

Jezabel felt her hand shaking slightly as he took her hand to his heart. It was a gentle smooth movement, slower then the last time they had put their hands on each other. As he rested her hand on his chest she could feel the heat of his skin, all that stopped the skin on skin contact was the thin shirt he wore. Bel wanted to move the shirt, feel her skin against her palm, the heat and contact. As her hand rested there Bel could almost swear she could feel the beat of his heart maybe it was the desire to feel it, but she was sure what she could feel was his racing heart. Bel let her hand rest on his chest enjoying the touch against him.

His chest shook lightly as he laughed as the consequence she’d heard him use before, usually before he said something sincere. “Don’t tempt me.” She said laughing a little herself, knowing she would be too upset if he didn’t write to do anything. When he didn’t write sounded more appropriate for Zeek, Bel knew he wouldn’t write. “OK, I promise not to come looking for you.” Bel said taking a deep breath as she spoke and knowing almost as she said it that it was a promise she was going to break.

His voice on carried his last words because they were so close to each other, had she been a fraction further from him she doubted she would have heard it. “Don’t say that. Nothing that’s happened has had anything to do with luck.” Bel told him with a gentle sternness to her words. “I happened to think my life is better with you in it.” She told him with her own whisper.

Bel couldn’t believe what she was hearing when he spoke the second promise he needed from her. He wanted her to wait for him, she already knew she would and he didn’t wait for her to answer. As he pressed something into her hand and closed it Bel pulled it back towards herself only looking away from him when she began to open her hand. Instantly she recognized the charm that hung on the golden chain, ‘a piece of me’. Bel looked up at Z as she closed her fingers around the charm once more.

“I promise.” Bel said leaning towards him, her eyes locked on his. “I’m yours, there’s nothing selfish about it.” Bel said, her face so close to his she was sure her breath must be brushing his cheek as she spoke. She meant what she said, but she wanted to show him. Leaning closer still Bel pressed her lips against his as he empty hand reached up to cup the back of his neck. Bel didn’t want him to pull away, if anything she wanted him closer; she wanted all of him. Her hand that held the chain and charm was clutched tight to her own heart where it would hang once she put it on and never took it off.

[Ezekiel Marrows]

He bit down on hi lip, hard. Ezekiel didn’t want to hurt her, not Jezabel of all people, she was his all he had left to count on, all he had left to dream about. The rest of the world was a twist of nightmares, a terrible curse he was forced to bare on already heavy shoulders. He should have never trusted the clave to keep Lymon safe, kid had heart, but no heart no matter the size was enough to save him. Especially when those who were meant to keep him safe thought sending him to his room during a battle was a good idea.

He remembered someone yelling his name, a girl’s voice and turning to see as Lymon ran from the house toward the Courtyard. He’d watched the boy in pure shock, and when he’d called for him, he remembered seeing the demon attack, the boys thin frame as he crashed to the ground and Zeek was hot on his tail. He’d butchered the beast, without giving any thought or effort, as if he were running on pure adrenaline. But as he looked to the ground he realized who the voice had belonged to, and the reason his baby brother had sprung from the house despite his orders. At his feet, his brother and sister laid lifeless.

The mental picture of the last time he’d seen his family alive stopped abruptly as she agreed to the first promise. It was a huge weight off his shoulders, after all he couldn’t bare hurting Bel, nor her family. They deserved better. Ezekiel smiled when she admitted something he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear. Then again there was the possibility she was just trying to make him feel better, and depite the fact he wanted to immerse himself in self loathing, she seemed to be penetrating the thick vale of sorrow that possessed him.

Ezekiel opened hi mouth, prepared to tell her she need not promise if it wasn’t what she really wanted, but her words and actions stunned him in place. Her hands were soft against the nape of his neck, her touch like that of an angels, dissolving the painful visions that burned him daily. He’d wanted her for longer than he could ever admit aloud, and here she was, on her bed, ready for the taking.

The young man moved slowly, bringing himself to a careful position atop of her, sharing the kiss. It was softer than before but the passion between them still burned just as brightly. His fingers played with her hair, almost like a child would, his lips were anything but.