by Trina Bates
Hollows and Others are usually pretty easy to tell apart just from their height. Hollows usually don’t get past five foot nine for a male and about five foot four for a female. I am rare as well, standing at six foot, though I’m a full Hollow, just like my six foot four beefcake standing in front of me. In his brown digital camo uniform, tan combat boots and this time, he has even added skin paint to hide him better in a desert setting.
He pulls up the corners of his mouth grinning from ear to ear. I know he’s already chosen the same get up for me; just more, fitting, tight and revealing. I look down and see I’m right in my assumptions. I’m wearing nearly identical gear to his, but I’m in a black tank top that is cut below my breasts showing off my midsection, and hip hugging pants, perv. His looks are what drew me and many more to him. We both kept our entire appearance the same from the real world.
Before we actually met face to face, he was a heavyweight fighter. I have yet to see him actually fight like that, but there are pictures. He’s magnificent. What really drew me in were his eyes. They are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Instead of the black outer ring Hollows normally have, his are a deep cerulean, his irises are a beautiful sage, with gold flecks. Stunning, with full, wide lips, always ready to give you a smile, a proud squared chin, and a cute button nose that should only look good on a woman, but somehow he makes it look good.
“Hey Bugs,” he says, his eyes light up upon seeing me. I would love to return that smile, but my stomach lurches and my brows furrow. It’s one thing to stand here, but words… fucking words, are lost on me.
Looking at me, knowing my facial cues, he asks, “What’s wrong?” In one large stride, his hands grasp my hips. He dips his head down to meet my eyes, but I can't bring myself to look back at him. Instead, like the coward I am, I stare at his chest. My hands slide up his forearms as I stand there speechless, gripping his arms as an anchor.
“Mira, what is it? Why aren’t you looking at me, Bugs?” he asks with more demand in his voice than I’m ready for.
I have no idea to how to say shit nicely. I'm too blunt, so before I can think about the consequences I blurt out, " I'm eight weeks pregnant." Letting out a huge breath I didn’t know I was holding, I glance at his eyes, he’s staring through me, not seeing what’s in front of him. His brows are down and his shoulders are slumped and pulled in. His hands drop away and he just stands there. His face slack with shock, unable to speak or move, nothing from my big guy. Thoughts race across my mind, though I’m unable to grasp hold of one. We are the same, shocked and speechless. Worried and confused.
Mira:
I’m guessing anyone that was dropped that bomb would be a little shocked and numb. I know he needs time to think. I swipe my hand in the cut off motion to un-Link myself, I don’t want to start anything in the cloud. Anyone can join. I should have thought about that before, but of course, I didn’t. Lifting myself from the chair, I leave the cave and head to our room. He needs time and so do I. I need to pack a bag, get ready for work, and tell Blue I’m going to stay in the loft for a bit. I don’t want to push Ebbin because he knows what eight weeks means.
Standing in our room, I take a quick glance around. This is our place to relax, our little sanctuary and now it feels tainted. I’m happy with the life growing inside me, but my worry is the other men that had joined us that night. It's not uncommon in our society, but it was the first time for Ebbin and me to bring in more than one other person. As good as the sex was, the feel of so many hands on my body at once. The numerous orgasms, I’m regretting it. Why the hell did my birth control fail? I just got a new dose right before that night.
A huge four-poster canopy bed sits in the corner of our room with a fluffy black, down blanket and more pillows than anyone knows what to do with. I had always wanted a bed like that and Ebbin was quick to agree. At the time, I thought he was just appeasing me, but I later found out how kinky he could get when he tied me up to each post and had his sexy way with me.
The little deck that is off to the side of our bedroom has two rocking chairs and a small table between them. It’s my favorite place to drink morning coffee as long as it’s not raining. I come out here to clear my mind and enjoy the beautiful mountain view. That's where I want to be. Far away from all of this!
Clearing my mind of the things I’m about to leave behind, I head into my closet and low and behold, that stupid damn bed jumps out at me, and I bang my toe.
“Mother Fuuuuuu. Oh my god,” I howl jumping up and down, holding my foot. I bite my bottom lip hopping around like an idiot trying to will the pain away. My long blond hair is covering my eyes as I try and hold my tattooed leg, while trying to find the bed.
Massive warm hands wrap around me from behind, steadying me. A welcome and sweet gesture. I didn’t hear his steps when he came in.
“You okay, Bugs? Sit down and let me look.” My nickname falling from his lips almost makes me cry. He doesn't sound mad, a little dejected sure, but not mad. Hobbling over to the end of the bed, I fall dramatically back into all my pillows. He gets on his knees and takes my foot in his hands while I lie there.
“I’m fine. Just kicked the bed.”
“What’d it do to piss you off?” he smirks down at me, those intense, stunning eyes, creasing with the small smile that lights his face.
“Not. My. Fault! Stupid thing jumped out and fucking bit me,” I told him. Irritated at his words, I pout and grind my teeth together from the throbbing pain that is in my foot. I lay my head back into the soft pillows beneath me and sigh at his soft touch on my ankle.
“I thought you said, you kicked it?”
“I retract that statement and I’m now sticking with, it’s the bed’s fault,” I peek down at him and give him a quick smile. He shakes his head and his shoulders shake with a silent laugh.
I sit up and give him my full attention, my previous worries ebbing out. If we’re talking about mundane things and he’s even trying to take care of me, I need to let this happen and see how it all pans out.
“Whatever, quit being a pain. Are you okay?”
“The pain, it's too much! I simply can't take it! Hurry, call the healers, quick!” I sigh and bring the back of my hand to my forehead dramatically. I try and hide the smile that is breaking through, pulling my lips into my mouth doesn't work. He caught the smile and quirks one of his eyebrows at me. He purses his luscious lips as he reaches up and swats the side of my thigh.
“Such a gentleman,” I murmur, mirroring his pout.
“You’re such an ass,” he says as a laugh escapes him and he closes his eyes, shaking his head.
I can’t help the high pitched, bubbly, girly little giggle that comes out. “You love it.”
“You’re somewhat right, but to put it all out there, I simply love you. All of you. No matter what.” Sitting back on his feet, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me so his head is resting on my thighs.
I’m a little shell-shocked at his confession. Not sure if I’m supposed to reply. I just sit there, running my fingers through his short hair.
With a deep intake of breath, he tells me exactly what I need to hear.
“I want this, I want you and this baby. I know what you’re worried about, I know what eight weeks mean and why you were worried to tell me, but it doesn’t matter,” shaking his head in my lap, he holds me tighter. “I will fully love this baby, no matter what. My reaction might not have been the best, but I wasn’t expecting that, it just threw me off for a second. I’m not going anywhere.”
In that moment, I don’t think I could have loved him more. With unshed tears blurring my vision, I lift his head up and throw myself down onto him. We end up a tangled, laughing mess on our bedroom floor.
“I wish we could have found out earlier. I know the test said eight weeks, but are those things even a hundred percent?” he asks.
“Eight weeks, three days; when I saw the lines show up, I was excited, but then I turned it over to the gestation window, and every
thing just fell apart in my head. I even called Blue and tried to blame it on her.”
With a full on belly laugh, he starts shaking his head at me.
“As much as I wish I was there to hear that conversation, there’s no blame to be put anywhere. The negative shit needs to not happen. We have a new little life to be happy about, that’s it.” Knowing he’s completely right, I nod my head in agreement.
“Love you, Bugs. We got this.”
“We do. Thank you.”
He grabs me so quickly I barely have a moment to know what’s going on. Somehow he’s flipped us and now he’s on top of me, between my thighs. I’m already heating up at his closeness. With his strong arms on each side on my head, he leans down and kisses me. One sweet, tender kiss. Him between my thighs and that one kiss? I’m already wanting more. He smirks down at me feeling my thighs tighten around his waist.
“Gotta work, don’t start that. You know damn well what you do to me,” he lifts himself off the floor, not even giving me a chance to tempt him.
He helps me up and I throw myself into his chest. “I love you, but that’s not fair. We have time!” I protest, pushing my bottom lip out in a pout to make him feel guilty and try to get my way. I let go and look up to see him holding back a smile. If I push him just a little more I know I’ll get what I want, but he’s also right. We do have to get ready and I need food before I leave.
“Okay, okay,” I concede. “So who are you babysitting tonight? Is it the snobby Blood Fae? Or douche canoe Donald? Why you have to guard a damn bear shifter is beyond me. He’s been here for what, a year now? I have no idea how you keep doing it, babe.”
He knows I’m teasing, but honestly, as Hollows, we have no abilities. The Others, or more accurately, the Conclave, only employ Hollows as guards, not their own kind which I think is stupid as hell.
“Actually, some new client. Not sure what kind of Other he is, just that he’s our age. We were told he’ll be a permanent and he despises the idea of having guards, but he knows the rules of a new city, and you know why I do it. It pays well and I get to have all these cool toys,” he replies, as he twirls one of the many knives that will be strapped to his body later.
I hate the idea of him doing this, but he has been a guard for so long now I could never ask him to change. A new Other in town usually means trouble whether they cause it, or someone else wants to make trouble for them. It's ridiculous. I guess that’s why they have guards for Others when they move cities or visit new places. Until they are settled somewhere, they have to be guarded to find out if they are a true fit for the Conclave that polices that territory.
“You and your ’toys’; men! I would have figured you had enough when we Link up.”
“Baby, there are never enough weapons for a man to have, we always want more, you know damn well you think it's sexy as fuck,” to hit his point home he lifts his shirt up and rubs his six pack like a stripper would.
He’s got me there. Just watching him strap on the leather harness that holds his twin Talwar blades, the long curved edge in his hands has my blood heating up.
“Bugs, if you don’t quit eye fucking me, I’m going to strip that sweet ass of yours naked, bend you over on the bed, tie you the fuck up, and leave you there.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” He probably would. If only for a few minutes before his self control broke and he came rushing back, giving me everything he has to offer, and damn is that a lot.
“I’m tempted,” he says with narrowed eyes, full of mischief.
“Way to make your girl a throbbing, needy mess before we have to go to work. You’re a royal ass, you know that?”
He takes a step towards me, puts his lips lightly to my ear and whispers, “When we get home, I fully intend to make good on what I said, I won't be leaving you. I'll be right behind you, fucking you, giving you everything you want, and then I’m going to make you swallow all of me before the night’s over.”
Fuck. Me. Please. Standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, mouth gaping. He licks my ear once and finishes getting ready, putting on the rest of his weapons in the assigned harnesses. So many weapons, there are four throwing knives that attach in a harness on each forearm, one giant bowie blade he wears on his hip, and a second harness on his lower back that holds two upside down blades, for easier access. Plus the small four inch stiletto blades he keeps in his combat boots. I’ve always wanted him to dress me in his weapons. I have no idea what it would feel like, but seeing them on him gets me all hot and bothered. I bet it would have the same effect on him if I let him dress me in them, naked.
“I think you should let me put them all on, naked,” I say clasping my hands behind my back and making my eyes, wide and innocent.
He whips his head in my direction, the immediate lust filled gaze, half lidded eyes and tick of his jaw have my body on high alert. The intense stare, and his bottom lip being drawn in and licked as he visualizes what I just told him, lets me know he loves the idea. Maybe I’ll finally get him to do it sooner, rather than later. He adjusts his jeans, obviously getting hard while he visualizes it all. Two can play at that game. I think and smirk as I open the doors to our closet and grab my uniform.
“You can’t fit into my harnesses, but if you start letting me train you to use the sword, we can get you fitted for your own. I know you’re good with a blade. We can stick to just getting you the smaller harnesses at first. Then move up, but not until after you have this baby. I’m not risking shit.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to have me start learning now, so I have more of an advantage? Another way to protect me and this one?” I ask as I gently rub my stomach. I wonder when I'll start to show? When will I get to feel it kick?
“Nice try, but no. I can’t train you properly if I’m worried I'll hurt you. You have an advantage over most with just being able to use a simple bowie knife and daggers.”
“Okay, okay. Get out of here hot stuff. Go babysit the new kid. Link me and let me know how it's going when you get a chance.”
Lifting up on my toes, I give him a quick peck on the cheek. He leans down and gives me one back.
“We’re not done talking about all of this. You training, though, I’m saying no right now. Plus, you have never wanted me to start before. I want to know why and we definitely aren’t done with what’s going to happen next with this baby.”
“We’ll talk later, I promise. Now get that sweet ass outta here so I can get dressed without you ogling my ass the entire time.”
He knows I love it when he does, but he can't be late to a new gig.
“Love you, Bugs.”
“Love you too, beefcake.”
After he leaves the room, I start getting my uniform together, if you can even call it that. For fuck's sake, it’s black skinny jeans and a light pink sheer lace bone in corset. I hate the damn thing, and don’t get me going on these god awful shoes! I’m already tall enough and now I get to add on another four inches in these ridiculous heels. I love Blue, but she’s a twisted bitch.
Mira:
Doing my makeup I start with a little khol around the eyes. I look at my deep dark blue eyes, my fair skin, and long blond hair trying to envision what my little one will look like. Will they have my dark, almost black eyes, my blond hair, maybe even my heart shaped face and rosy cheeks? Will they take after Ebbin, or one of the other men? I shake my head trying to get those thoughts out of my mind and finish putting on some blue mascara and some nude lipstick. I run into the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat.
A lot of people would love to have the kitchen we do, but I really don’t like it. Hard angles, crude bright light, stark white appliances, and walls, the only thing to cut the harshness is the gunmetal grey countertops. The double door industrial fridge is stocked with everything you could want. Ice cream for me, potato salad, and lots of beer for Ebbin. You know, the essentials. There’s a giant island in the middle that’s never used, but nice to sit on, or get bent over.
We’re never in here much. We keep saying we’ll get some paint, some new light fixtures, and a few frilly counter decorations, you know the glass bowls no one uses, maybe some of those canisters that hold coffee and sugar. No real use, they just sit there. Yeah, some of that stuff, but we never do. I would love to say it's because we forget or we just don’t have the time, but we’re just not motivated. We don’t want to come home and work on anything after we’ve worked all night. So, we’re just going to leave it and hate it.
I'm bound to get hungry later, so I grab an apple and some leftovers from last night. Swiping up my key card and ID bracelet, I sling the straps of my heels around my wrist and slip on my favorite flats. They are a loud, bright, god awful, neon pink with silver gems covering them, but they are so me.
The walk to work is amazing. We live beside a river, so for the few blocks I walk when it is this gorgeous and sunny out, I can hear the water rushing, the birds calling, animals rustling in the bushes, and the wind blowing through the trees. The sounds of nature that everyone takes for granted.
We’re the only house for a bit. We own a good chunk of property, no neighbors, no one coming to sell shit, and the Hellhounds that monitor the Others generally stay away. They don’t concern themselves too much with Hollows, but if a Hollow breaks any rule against an Other, they’ll step in. Mostly we’re monitored by a few designated Martials. They’re Other, but weaker and don’t stand in society with their own kind.