Prelude to Ever After III

Evey fumbled with her keys at her door, making the typical mistake of turning the lock the wrong way before remembering that it was an ancient and odd set-up. Eleven months and she still didn't have it down each time. It was probably because she was distracted that morning, with the wolf thing and all, and someone had stolen the shoe mat outside their door again (and she had really like this one, it had a pair of nestling, blue owls on it). Damn, people were the worst.

Distracted, that was it.

Evey was looking at the ground when she entered apartment 24a, mind stuck on the missing mat, when she felt someone else's presence. She shared the flat with two other women, so that wasn't unusual in itself – only that it was after eight in the morning and they had morning classes and morning jobs to go to. Perhaps Anna was running late? Maybe Jennifer had been bitten by a vampire the previous night and had also taken leave for the day?

Shutting the door behind her, Evey saw that it was neither of them. She jumped, thinking it was Ilkay sitting in the couch opposite the door. But it wasn't him either, though it was a man who looked a great deal like Ilkay – the main difference being their type of dress and the expression on the man's face.

She'd never seen Ilkay look so bored and so entirely full of loathing.

The man lounged on their periwinkle blue suede sofa, stretching his long limbs out like he was the owner and she the guest. He wore a light grey suit, polished dark brown shoes, a matching leather belt, a vibrantly light purple tie, a pocket square, sunglasses, and a hat that made her think of mid-century Italian-American mobsters. Probably wore the hat to disguise the white ears on his head.

Those damn ears.

How had she made it so far into her apartment with a wolf sitting right there. That's what he was, any way, she couldn't deny it. Because --of course--. She had a thought he'd broken into her flat – and wildly, filled with dread – she glanced down the hallway to her left, past the kitchen and to the bedrooms. He hadn't hurt either of the girls, had he?

“If you are thinking of those two friends of yours, they have gone. And I did not touched a hair on either their heads last I saw of them – if you were curious.”

He sounded a bit like Ilkay, too. Same weird tones, but the otherwise unfamiliar inflection was heavier.

But if he was anything like Ilkay, then she didn't believe a word he said. Evey darted down the narrow hallway, glancing into the kitchen to see it was empty, and threw open both bedroom doors to find each was quiet, undisturbed, and empty.

“Satisfied?”

She startled again. The man was behind her, standing so that he spoke down to her from above her shoulder. Silent and fast; it made her cold with fear. Scared.

He continued, “and now you are going to ask, some might say redundantly, 'who are you?' And, 'why are you here?' Am I wrong?”

Well, she couldn't say she hadn't wondered. Actually, she couldn't say much of anything. Her mouth and throat felt like dried concrete. Which was odd because her heart was racing fast enough to pound concrete into dust, she thought. She managed to nod her head.

He smiled, looked about to say something, then cut off. The smile vanished. A surprised, hesitant expression twisted his features before his entire posture seemed to wilt. In a second, the wilted look was forgotten in favour of mirthless laughter heavy with disbelief. Not particularly directed to Evey, the man threw his head back and said, “that fantastic idiot!”

Evey didn't have time to jolt in surprise before the man had his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down to her conspiratorially, eyes shining over the frame of his sunglasses. “Look at what he has gone and done, the fool.”

The man's uninvited closeness finally shook Evey's voice free. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She demanded, shaking free from his hold and retreating into her bedroom. She tried, perhaps irrationally, to shut out the strange man, but he pushed the door open after her.

“Ophrys,” he offered, eyes dancing around to different things in her room before stopping on her.

Evey shook her head, held up a finger to his chest and poked him. “Well, if you're here to threaten me – ”

“Oh, well, I was, orginally. But this is so much more interesting.”

She probably shouldn't have poked him, because it seemed to give Ophrys another invitation to reach out for her again, his hands coming to either side of her face. He had a satisfied smile playing at his lips.

Trying to again inch away, Evey found the contact harder to break. And his eyes, there was something about them that she couldn't look away from. “What are you..."

“Come now, I am not here to hurt you, first off,” he said, as if this were a favour on his part. Evey narrowed her eyes, conveying she didn't believe as much. “Just relax, Evey.”

She wasn't surprised, but the fact he knew her name still scared her. Her jaw felt warm under his hands and the touch was intimate enough to inspire a blush across her cheeks. She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and yanked at them.

He responded by lifting her from the ground easily, she felt barely any pressure from his hold, as if it didn't warrant much at all. But there was pressure elsewhere, pulsing down her jaw into her chest and lower. A wave of heat rippling through her, all the way to her toes, curling them with the sensation.

“S-stop,” her breath was suddenly fast and shallow.

“He did it. He's really gone and done it...” Ophrys appeared perfectly in control as Evey tried to ignore the thrill running through her, tried to keep herself from panting and coiling with abandon. Her body was fiery and changing as she hung in his grasp; he was so cool while all she could think of was how very much she'd like to strip several layers of clothing.

She moaned, felt her hips rock as a tail pushed from her spine. "P-please, stop..."

And then she was dropping to the floor, landing in a crumpled, unsatisfied heap. She felt cold with a sudden absence of heat.

"Well, this certainly works in my favour."

Evey stared at her hands, shrinking from paws to fingers once more. Why couldn't it all have just been a dream? But that was merely the first of many questions.