Xander quickly turned away from her. His nails dug into his arms as he tried to fight off any visible signs of what he was feeling. The heart she had been squeezing was now crushed. Nothing but dust in the palm of her hand.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "If that's how you feel then you won't mind if I go out and find someone who actually wants my company."
Keeping his eyes cast to the floor, Xander walked out of his room, making sure to knock her shoulder as he passed.
"You're going out now?" she asked, following him.
"Looks like it.” He took his coat out of the closet.
"But it's only two hours until curfew."
"Then I better be quick about it," he said, giving her a swift wink.
"Xander, wait! I -"
"I'm sick of fucking waiting, Leon. I've been trying to do the whole respectful thing, but now that I know where we stand there's not much point anymore, is there?" Xander's coat now on, he reached down and slipped into his shoes.
"I ... I didn't mean -"
"Don't try to fucking change your answer on me now. It's done." Last shoe on, Xander opened the door. He turned back, smiled and said, "Happy fucking Halloween!" before slamming the door behind him.
There was a small bar a few blocks from his apartment and he headed straight there. Once inside, he was immediately met by an abundance of women in costumes, all eyeing him as he entered. He had put his Guardian trench coat back on for this very reason.
Xander didn't know what he was looking for in a companion that night, but he definitely knew what he wasn't looking for. A woman dressed in a black dress and pointed hat came over to him first. She was pretty and blonde, and he immediately dismissed her.
Then he moved onto a brunette in a costume he did not even really look at. He went up to her and, when he got the smile, started sucking on her ear, only to be thrown off by the strong scent of too much perfume. It was wrong. All wrong.
They all smelled wrong. Every last one of them. Where were the women with the natural, floral aromas?
And then he saw her. Sitting in a chair and chatting with a friend was a simple girl with auburn hair and hazel eyes. She was more made-up than he wanted, but weren't they all? So he grabbed her hand, pulled her against him and placed his head in her neck. Perfume was present, but it wasn't overpowering in any way. And it was floral and feminine and everything he needed to pretend.
It wasn't long before Xander was pressing her against the wall and grinding his pelvis into hers. She moaned into his hair while he kissed down her neck.
There was no protesting as Xander grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the bar, practically dragging her back to his apartment. The moment they got inside, he kicked off his shoes and demanded she do the same. She obeyed and watched closely as he tore off his coat and tossed it aside.
He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, the two of them kissing fervently as he carried her towards his bedroom, making sure to slam the door loudly behind them, just in case Deryn wasn't already aware of their presence.
But, of course, she was. Deryn sat up in her bed the moment she heard the front door open, hoping since Xander had left only a short while ago that he had come back alone. It didn't take her long to realize he hadn't.
She moved to the edge of her bed and just sat there, unable to tear her ears away as he clearly began to touch his guest.
Deryn didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the drops fall onto her hands, which were tightly gripping her pajama pants. His pajama pants. She wiped her wet cheeks.
"Stop crying," she demanded. Nothing happened. "Stop crying," she repeated. She cried harder. "Please, please stop crying."
Without another thought, Deryn stood up and grabbed her bottle of whiskey. She took several gulps before leaving her bedroom and closing the door behind her.
She seized her favorite blanket from the couch and wrapped herself in it, but even its warmth could not bring back the comfort she had just lost.
Deryn wiped her eyes some more as she went out to the balcony, lying down on the cold cement and trying hard not to let her mind wander back to what was happening inside.
Still, the tears flowed, and she was starting to wonder if they would ever stop. She took another sip from her bottle.
"Stop crying," she repeated once again. "This is what you wanted. You can't be attached to him. You have to leave one day. You have to find Dad and Talon and Dax. You love Dax. You can't ... you can't have feelings for Xander. You just ... you can't. You can't."
Back inside, Xander was having a hard time focusing, since the woman he was currently thrusting into kept staring at him. So he turned her around and took her from behind, tangling one hand in her hair before tearing it away. There was too much of some product in there. It wasn't natural. It wasn't soft. It was wrong. It was all fucking wrong.
"Leon ..." he said under his breath as he continued to fuck this complete stranger.
"What?" she asked over her shoulder between heavy breaths.
"Nothing. Turn back around!"
She moved her head so it was once again facing forward.
Xander didn't know what he had to imagine to finish that night, but it certainly had nothing to do with the person he was with. He remembered mumbling something to get her out of his apartment, but he could not for the life of him remember what it was. He supposed it was the wife lie again. That one always worked well.
As soon as she was gone, he sat on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands, breathing shallowly as it finally hit him.
What the fuck had he just done?
With a frustrated growl, Xander grabbed his nightstand and tossed it across the room. Then he grabbed his chair, his comforter, his curtains. Anything he could get his hands on. He threw it, shattered it, stomped on it, tore it, and destroyed it.
"Fuck! You pathetic asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He grabbed his clock, the only object still in one piece, and threw it hard against the wall.
Once he was satisfied enough with the destruction of his room, Xander put on some clothes and grabbed his cigarettes. He headed for the balcony, pausing momentarily by Deryn's door. He desperately wanted to knock on it, to have everything be all right and have her follow him out there. But if he knocked now he knew very well that this was not what would happen, so he walked on, his throat raw as he let it sink in how massively he had fucked up.
Xander opened the door to the balcony but was met with some sort of barrier.
Looking down, he found a small body wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket. There was an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand and the faint remnants of tears on her cheeks.
"Leon!" Xander collapsed to his knees and rolled her so her head was in his lap. "Leon, what happened? Are you alright?"
There was some incoherent mumbling he somehow translated to mean that she came outside to hide from the noise.
With a heavy sigh, Xander scooped her into his arms and carried her frozen body inside.
"Mmm ... Xander," she whispered as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. "Smells like you."
Xander kissed the top of her head and breathed her in. He hadn't recognized it before, but this was the scent he had been craving. So sweet. So intoxicating.
Tightening his grip on her, Xander opened the door to her bedroom and headed inside. He lowered Deryn onto her bed and wrapped the comforter tightly around her.
"Xander ... No more hussies," whispered Deryn.
Xander smiled. He moved his hand to her cheek and stroked it soothingly. "Alright, Leon. You win. No more hussies."
She smiled pleasantly before bringing her hand up to touch his.
Xander leaned toward her ear and whispered, "Only you." He moved his lips to hers and kissed them softly.
Even in her half-asleep, drunken state, Deryn's lips still responded. Xander smiled again and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Stay," she breathed into his hove
ring mouth.
"I can't stay, Leon. Not tonight. I don't deserve you tonight."
"Stay," she said again, opening her eyes slightly and looking into his.
"Soon," said Xander giving her another soft kiss.
And then it took everything he had to tear himself away from her, but he knew he had to.
Sometimes Deryn acted so normal that Xander forgot about everything she had been through. When he actually stopped to think for a moment, he understood her hesitance about him. But he knew these feelings were not his alone. She felt it, too. And now, more than ever, he was determined to make her see. Deryn Leon was going to be his. He was sure of it.
And, no matter what it took, he was going to deserve her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next morning Deryn had a hard time opening her eyes, which were throbbing along with the rest of her head. She groaned and rubbed them, accidentally rolling so she landed in the large puddle of drool on her pillow.
"Gross," she said, moving out of the wetness, which only made her head pound harder.
As she turned in the other direction, away from the drool, the memories of the night before came flooding back to her. Her face crinkled with curiosity as she realized she didn't remember returning to her room. Had she come back here on her own? Somehow, she doubted it.
A nauseating smell that made her stomach churn currently filled the air, and it was soon accompanied by some very cheerful humming. She got up to investigate, stumbling slightly on her wobbly legs.
Deryn put on her robe and slid into her slippers. She yawned heavily and walked out of the room while scratching an itch on the top of her head. Her fingers got caught in a mess of tangles that could only have been caused by a lot of tossing and turning.
"Morning, sunshine!"
She stopped and looked. Bronson was smiling cheerfully from the kitchen.
"Or should I say afternoon?" He laughed and went back to cooking something on the stove.
Deryn groaned. She went over and sank down on the couch. Not even ten seconds later, Bronson was handing her a glass filled with a hideous, muggy-green liquid.
"For your head," he said. "My own recipe to cure hangovers."
"Does it taste as disgusting as it looks?" she asked, reluctantly taking the glass.
"Oh yes, but you'll be happier in the long run."
Deryn frowned at the drink before plugging her nose and gulping it down quickly. She pulled a face as she finished. Bronson laughed and took the empty glass.
"How did you know I was hung-over?" she asked, turning to watch him in the kitchen. He really was an artist in there.
"Ruby told me," he said while chopping onions.
Deryn threw her hand over her mouth when she accidentally got a good whiff. And then her eyes drifted over to Xander's bedroom door. It was open.
"Where is he?" she asked, hoping there would be time to duck back into her room before he made an appearance. Anything to avoid suffering the humiliation of last night. Clearly, he had found her drunk and passed out on the balcony, probably just after his latest hussy left.
Deryn's fists clenched as the pain she had felt the night before returned. But she wouldn't cry. Not in front of Bronson. There was no reason for it. She had already decided that any feelings she had for Xander were unreasonable, so she would just have to forget about them. That should be easy enough. She had successfully shut her feelings off for five years. Become an expert at it even. This was the same. He was a Guardian and all she had to do was emotionally detach herself. Done.
Just then, the front door opened and Xander walked in carrying his rucksack. He kicked off his shoes before noticing her sitting there, his eyes falling upon hers.
Deryn gulped. No. Not done.
She stood up and darted for the bathroom. "I need a shower," she mumbled to Bronson, slamming the door behind her.
Bronson stared after her peculiarly, then moved his eyes to Xander. "Fighting again?"
Xander shrugged. "I don't know. Probably."
When Deryn got out of the shower, Bronson was gone but whatever he'd been cooking was still brewing. The curtains covering the door to the balcony were currently blowing, letting her know Xander was out there. She hurried into her room and shut the door, pressing her back to it and sighing with her eyes closed.
"What's with the dramatics?"
Deryn jumped as her heart literally skipped a beat. Xander was standing over her dresser, pulling things out of his rucksack and putting them next to the bag Bronson had bought her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, suddenly realizing that she was very naked underneath her robe. She pulled it tighter around her body.
"I bought you some medicine for when you go. And a few other things that might come in handy."
"Kicking me out already?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Xander smirked. "You're the one who said you needed to be prepared."
Once all of the medicine and other knickknacks were out of his bag - Deryn noticing a compass and an old flashlight among them - he began pulling out something else. Books. Many books.
Deryn's eyes widened in awe as the pile of volumes grew larger. There was even one specifically on weapon making. How he ever found a paper copy of something like that was beyond her.
"I was able to get a few of the books from training you requested, as well as some additions I thought might come in handy. There are more I plan to get but the weight of my bag was at capacity."
Xander put his rucksack over his shoulder and walked to the door. Deryn was still standing against it, her eyes focused excitedly on the books.
Reaching past her for the knob, he brushed her hip in a way that could only have been intentional. He leaned down and whispered, "Excuse me, Leon."
The purr of his voice sent a chill through Deryn. Her body stiffened as he grasped firmly onto her arm, carefully moving her out of the way. He flashed her that crooked grin of his before opening the door just enough to slip out and shutting it behind him.
Deryn stared at the closed door for a long time, unable to move her gaze anywhere else. She had absolutely no idea what was going on in Xander's head. He had, more-or-less, confessed his feelings for her the previous night and now he just seemed ... off. What game was he playing?
Well, whatever it was, Deryn refused to let him win. She quickly changed into some clothes, then grabbed the book on weaponry and the blanket she had found tangled in her sheets. She wrapped it around her and went out to the living room, where she sat down on the couch.
Deryn opened the book and began reading.
Xander came over a short while later and handed her a cup of tea. Then he went over to the fireplace.
"There's supposed to be another thunderstorm tonight," he said nonchalantly as he pressed something on his wristband that shot out a flame and ignited the artificial wood. "You might want to prepare early."
"Fine," she said without taking her eyes off of the book.
"How is your head doing while reading?"
Deryn thought. The truth was, reading and retaining the information had proven to be much more difficult than before she suffered countless amounts of torture. She often caught herself reading sentences two or three times before fully comprehending them, but she simply said, "All is well."
Xander walked away and returned a minute later with his small computer and a cup of tea. He sat down on the other end of the couch and put his feet up casually before turning it on, a screen appearing as a hologram before his eyes. He scrolled a bit with his finger, then began reading something.
Using her peripherals Deryn saw the cover of a book at the top of the hologram, and that he was reading about mind control technology. She had to ask. "Why are you reading that?"
Without looking up, Xander said, "It's come to my attention recently that this form of technology isn't far from the president's grasp, and I want to know more about it. Surely you, of all people, understand how necessary it is to be a step ahead on these things
."
Deryn nodded before returning to her book. A gust of wind shot in through the open balcony door and she shivered. Xander put his computer down, stood up and closed the door.
"Sorry. I was airing out that onion smell," he said, returning to his seat.
"What was he making?" she asked, looking back at the brewing pot.
"Just some dinner for us. A new recipe he wanted to try."
"Oh." She suddenly frowned. "What happened to my untouched dinner from last night?" She couldn't resist.
"I ate it," said Xander casually.
Deryn whipped her head towards him. "All of it?" she asked.
He nodded. "I was very hungry, since I didn't eat anything all of yesterday."
"Why not?"
"Because I was anticipating your dinner. I know how much it meant to you, being your first time cooking it on your own and all -"
Deryn blushed. So, apparently, they were being blunt. She made a mental note.
"- and I would've been here if I hadn't run into complications."
"Complications," she repeated. "Is that what we're calling your hussies now?" So much for being the bigger person.
"Believe what you want, that girl had nothing to do with why I was late."
"Then why -"
"I'm a Guardian, Leon, and sometimes I need to keep up appearances," he said as he scrolled further down on the hologram. "Luka and I have spent every Halloween together since we were five. When I tried to get out of it, suspicions arose. Neither you nor I can afford to have anyone doubt my intentions. So I went. And when I tried to leave some girl followed me. Veli forced me into his car with her, and then sent her up here while he proceeded to threaten the lives of my father and friends if I didn't find you, which everyone realizes I haven't tried very hard to do. So that's it, the truth, which I'm sure is nothing compared to whatever you created in that head of yours."
Deryn's book dropped from her hands. "Veli threatened you?"
"He did. He and several others who were once my superiors don't like me very much."
If at all possible, Deryn felt like an even bigger idiot than before. She should have known he wouldn't worry her for no reason. "Xander, I'm sorry. I didn't realize -"
Broken Wings (Cruel and Beautiful World, Book One 1) Page 21