Fucking... Christ on a bike [NSFW]

Avondale Woods 
#1
Some time after this thread!


Summer sucked.

The new moon sucked.

Had she told you that before? She was fairly sure she had.

Taking a longer than usual route which basically linked to the woods through the outskirts, Amy was glad to have made it back in one piece despite how shitty tonight had ended up being. The car had suffered a broken back window and a few dents, but that could easily be fixed. As far as the blonde was concerned, there was no blood spilled on the seats and Natalie had made it out unscathed.

The fact that her suggestion had failed was a different story entirely.

A story which, admittedly, still pissed her off considerably.

Walking up to the caravan, she opened the door a bit more roughly than usual, but her entrance would be a quiet one, a big part of her hoping not to find Robbie chilling on the bed—or anywhere within their mobile home, really—but hope and luck had never quite been her allies, so whatever.

To say that Amy looked like a different person would be an understatement; she looked like she'd seen death, gone on a ride in his mad roller-coaster, and returned to tell the tale. There was so much going on inside her head, but nothing she wanted to voice.
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#2
Outfit, except barefoot.


Robbie had grown rather fond of the gypsy caravan life.

It was quiet and peaceful in these woods, and she enjoyed every bit of it.

Having established something of a morning ritual, or the nocturnal equivalent thereof, she began each night with a walk through the woods immediately surrounding their humble abode, tending to the handful of plants she kept under her care. Afterward, Robbie usually either went off in search of a meal before retiring to the safety and comfort of the caravan.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with her sketchbook in hand when she heard the Impala. Putting down her pencil, Robbie hummed with a smile on her face, but it didn't last. As a familiar presence approached the caravan, the empath could sense that something was off.

That dreadful feeling didn't cease or diminish once Amy entered; the look on her face was nothing if not terrifying.

"Amy?" Robbie's voice was tinged with worry as she tossed her sketchbook on the bed and rushed to Amy's side. "What is it?"

Was she hurt? Was she in trouble?
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#3
Btw, Kam's forgetful, so here's a belated outfit.


"Amy?"

Why.

Just why.

The blonde stifled a groan and shook her head before the punk closed the distance between them.

"What is it?"

"Can you just.." Work your green-eyed magic and wash this away. "You look pretty in blue." Yeah, Robbie did look pretty in blue and the blonde smiled faintly for it even if the movement was forced. A hand reached out to caress the punk's cheek momentarily, amber eyes resting against blue-green ones.

Removing the pair of necklaces from around her neck, the blonde was quick to place them around Robbie's neck before she started removing the belt from around her waist. The belt was then tossed over the back of the couch thingy which Kam clearly didn't know what else to call, so let's move on, and should Robbie let her, Amy'd strip till she was left in her lacy, black underwear.

She really, really wanted to get some water running over her body.

Just for a few minutes.
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#4
"Can you just.."

Just what?

"You look pretty in blue."

Of all the things Robbie expected to come out of Amy's mouth, that wasn't one of them. As much as she appreciated the compliment, the forced smile that came with it wasn't all that reassuring. When the blonde caressed Robbie's cheek, the worry in those blue-green eyes was all too evident.

"Talk to me." Please.

Amy was so out of it, and it quite frankly scared the hell out of the punk.

Then Amy began to undress, starting with her necklaces that soon found themselves around Robbie's neck. Concern led to confusion and even frustration as the blonde stripped down to her underwear, but Robbie merely stood there, unsure of what to do.

Should she push Amy further? Soothe her distress with a little empathic magic?
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#5
The plea to talk was there and the blonde pushed it back for the sake of getting the clothes off her body at a pace that wasn't fast, nor slow either. Yet, somehow, it did hold some degree of mania, certain hints of aggression, as she threw the the pieces of clothing off to the side just like she'd done to her belt.

Robbie wanted to know and Amy wanted to tell her, but at the same time, the blonde also wanted a break. "Tell me how the hell I'm able shake a mad shifter off just fine, probably injure her considerably and make her piss off minutes after she came at me, but I'm unable to fucking compel a human no matter how hard I try." The words came out sharper than intended and she mentally berated herself.

A sigh would eventually leave her and her gaze would break away from Robbie's.

"Just use your empathic abilities and chill me the fuck down."

And with that said, she'd take a couple of steps back and retreat into the shower if the punk didn't try to stop her.

The conversation could be held whilst she had some water running over her.
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#6
Robbie's plea went unanswered, which was just as troubling as the aggression in Amy's movements.

"Tell me how the hell I'm able shake a mad shifter off just fine, probably injure her considerably and make her piss off minutes after she came at me, but I'm unable to fucking compel a human no matter how hard I try."

The punk blinked, rendered even more speechless than she already was.

It sounded like one hell of a night for Amy, one that must have shaken her pretty badly. Mentions of a mad shifter also seized Robbie with fear, but she was relieved that the blonde was unharmed. Still, Robbie didn't miss the sharpness of Amy's tone or her exasperation concerning a failure to compel some human or another.

Compelling others had never been Amy's strong suit for as long as Robbie could remember.

"Just use your empathic abilities and chill me the fuck down."

That frightened Robbie more than anything. She knew just how bad things had to be before inviting someone to fuck with your head seemed like the favorable option. Yet, after a moment or two, the empath heeded Amy's request, her eyes turning absinthe green.

She reached out to the blonde's psyche and tried to soothe her tumultuous emotions. Doing so with any confidence required Robbie to swallow her own worry, her thoughts falling back on fond memories to fuel the serenity she hoped to offer Amy.

With a quiet, wistful hum, Robbie then placed a cool hand on Amy's shoulder before the blonde could step into the shower.

"Want some company?"

Although taking a shower with Amy in one as confined as theirs oft invoked more passionate emotions, that wasn't Robbie's intent. Possessed by her own empathic ability, she wanted to be there for Amy, help her find solace the best way Robbie knew how.
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#7
Thank whoever the fuck was up there for having the punk comply to her request.

Letting out a much unneeded breath, the blonde found herself relaxing, muscles slackening involuntarily. It was a strange feeling, allowing Robbie to take control over her emotions—it wasn't like Amy had much choice on the matter to begin with—but the blonde was grateful for it.

Removing her rings and placing them next to the washbasin, Amy would then strip down fully and step in the shower, but her hand would falter, preventing the water from starting. Robbie had asked her a question and Amy would be damned if she didn't at least provide a reply.

"Want some company?"

Truthfully her answer was "no", but the keyword here was was. Part of her still didn't want the punk anywhere near, but that was mostly due to Amy's own frustration and her weird-ass coping mechanisms. Silently, she tried to fight the serene feeling the punk had instilled within her, but to no avail. It felt like a collar constricting around her neck, a collar which was choking her slowly, but one which she had requested all the same.

She'd asked for Robbie to calm her.

You'd requested as much, Hale.

Fucking.. "Please." The words were spoken softly, more quietly than before. At this point, Amy had given up completely on trying to fight the calmness she was wrapped in and instead, she chose to press her back against the wall and close her eyes momentarily.
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#8
For a few breaths, Robbie was genuinely uncertain what Amy's answer would be. As reluctant as she was to leave Amy to her own thoughts, the punk would give her space if that's what the blonde needed.

Whatever it took to make her feel better, the punk would make it happen.

"Please."

Amy's voice seemed smaller now, which pulled a Robbie's heartstrings; she sounded exhausted. Watching with absinthe green eyes as the blonde leaned her back against the wall, Robbie was quick to take off her shirt. With the only piece of clothing she had on cast aside, the punk then stepped into the shower beside Amy, closing the glass door behind her.

"How warm?" Their sense of temperature might have been numbed, but Robbie still asked.

It felt like the right thing to do.
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#9
Life was just a roller coaster of ups and downs and huge turnarounds and Amy legitimately didn't know why she bothered with Mountainside anymore. Maybe they should just leave and never return again; head back to California and live a life away from all those assholes and misfortunes.

Robbie entered the shower seconds after the blonde had and Amy barely had half the mind to react to it.

"How warm?"

Whilst the punk had managed to calm her down, she hadn't managed to ease the defeat she felt, but Amy hadn't really expected her to.

The question rang in her head repeatedly but she was so out of it she honestly couldn't care less.

"Go with whatever you feel comfortable with." Be it cold enough to make her freeze or hot enough to burn her skin, she didn't fucking care.
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#10
"Go with whatever you feel comfortable with."

While not the answer Robbie was hoping for, it was an answer nevertheless. With a gentle nod, she started the shower at lukewarm and gradually brought it to a steamy temperature. The punk had always been fond of showers on verge of scalding; they helped her relax and unwind better than the alternative.

Hopefully, the same applied in undeath.

Steam and streams of hot water soon filled the confined space, and Robbie returned her attention to the blonde. Through her empathic ability, the punk could feel that something was still very much wrong, even though she had calmed Amy down.

She didn't know what to do, how to handle this.

"Amy."

Barely more than a whisper, Robbie's voice was nearly lost amidst the sound of running water. She watched the blonde for a moment longer before moving to brush her fingertips over Amy's jaw.

Look at her. Please.
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#11
"Amy."

She was tired.

Tired of falling face-first in the mud, tired of being fucked over by the new moon and those around her alike, tired of how things had turned out to be. She wanted a fucking break, a step back in time so she could make the pieces fall differently.

Robbie directed her gaze towards absinthe green eyes, but as much as the blonde wanted to hold her friend's gaze and feel something other than the crippling feeling of being choked, she couldn't find it in her. Robbie meant well, but the conflict going on inside Amy's head—even though toned down significantly thanks to the empath—left her in a state where she felt exposed from all sides.

It was like Dax peeking into her psyche.

"Stop." The words came out strangled despite all her efforts not to make them sound the way they had, but there was little Amy could do now. "You've calmed me down." Stop. Please.
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#12
"Stop."

Robbie hesitated, pulling her hand away from Amy. She didn't need to be told twice.

"You've calmed me down."

Nodding without so much as a word, the empath withdrew, no longer tied to Amy's psyche. She averted her gaze and blinked until the unnaturally vivid green left her irises, leaving them a more familiar blue-green hue.

Immediately, Robbie began to second-guess if manipulating Amy had been the right decision. If being in here with her was.

Unsure of what to do or say, Robbie decided not to say anything at all. Despite how close they were, Robbie felt distanced from Amy, as though her efforts had done more harm than good; it wouldn't have been the first time. Plagued with such ill feelings, she sought to wash them away, splashing her face in the incoming stream of water.
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#13
Robbie didn't need to be told twice, but when the punk removed the leash she had on Amy's psyche, the blonde didn't know whether she regretted it or not. It certainly seemed like it had rendered Robbie speechless which, ultimately, made Amy's gut twist uncomfortably.

Goddammit, Hale.

"You didn't do anything wrong," the words were spoken after a while of silence before said silence became too insufferable and the hot water against her skin felt like needles. "I was the one who fucked me over because I wanted to test my luck with the coyotes." And that wasn't even why she was sour; she was sour because of what had followed.

Of her inability to spare Natalie from those memories.

The shower would continue in silence after that and after a couple of minutes, the blonde would be the first to step out and hand a towel to Robbie after she'd wrapped one around her own body. "I just don't know why I bother staying here anymore. Is there anything left for us?" For Skuld? For Fray? She honestly didn't know.

"Skuld told me I'd made the right choice; cutting ties with Carmen, with Beauregard and Margaux and every other asshole I've come to know, but everything keeps going downhill." So, really. Was this the right choice after all? Reaching for a comb, Amy made her way out of the bathroom and back towards the bed.
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#14
"You didn't do anything wrong."

Amy telling her so helped ease Robbie's fretfulness. Turning her attention back toward the blonde, the punk waited for a beat to see if Amy would say anything else. And she did.

"I was the one who fucked me over because I wanted to test my luck with the coyotes."

That had been rather stupid of Amy, which was unlike her. Such life-threatening recklessness was usually Robbie's thing. "But you're not hurt," Robbie said, intent to point out how lucky Amy was to test her luck and walk away unscathed. Still, there must have been more to it than that.

The rest of the shower continued in silence, during which Robbie bathed with nothing else to add. Once Amy left, the punk would stay in the shower a moment longer until the hot water ran out; luckily, a cold shower wasn't as jarring to a lifeless body. Quick to step out after that, Robbie wrapped herself up with the towel Amy offered.

"I just don't know why I bother staying here anymore. Is there anything left for us?"

"I don't know either," Robbie said, running a hand through her damp hair. Before she could add anything else, however, Amy kept talking.

"Skuld told me I'd made the right choice; cutting ties with Carmen, with Beauregard and Margaux and every other asshole I've come to know, but everything keeps going downhill."

There wasn't an inkling of hesitation in Robbie's response. "She's right." Although Robbie tried looking for her hairbrush, she soon came up empty-handed and sighed. So, she followed Amy to the bed and sat down on one corner.

"It hasn't been easy for us here, but..." The punk faltered, unsure of what she wanted to say, before deciding to speak her mind. "If you want to leave this hellhole behind, then I'm with you. I wouldn't think twice about it."

Mountainside was nothing but a nest of monsters and jackasses that Robbie would all too happily leave behind.
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#15
"She's right."

Was she really? The world seemed to think otherwise.

Amy would've argued that the punk was wrong, but she found little use in doing so. Instead, she remained quiet, listening halfheartedly to the next couple of sentences that came flowing from Robbie's mouth.

The fact that Robbie would follow should the blonde wish to leave pulled at her silent heartstrings, but Amy knew that leaving Colorado while they were both so new posed other risks. Maybe in a month, maybe in two months. Maybe once everyone had their shit together some more they could leave and never return.

Shuffling towards the edge of the bed to get closer to the punk, Amy tried to catch her eyes. "Will you let me brush your hair." 'Cause really, she had a comb in hand and she was also in desperate need of something distracting.

If only getting high was an option.
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#16
The way Robbie saw it, taking their chances out on the road involved just as much risk as staying here. Moreover, there was simply nothing here for Robbie anymore except bitter memories and faces she hated. Starting over someplace far and away from here sounded like a dream at this point.

Then Amy shifted closer, her eyes seeking Robbie's. Despite how stressful things were, the punk met that amber gaze and held it.

"Will you let me brush your hair."

It was such an unexpected request, yet so incredibly Amy.

Robbie nodded, a smile briefly dancing across her lips.
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#17
The answer was a positive one and the brief smile was appreciated; it made Amy's lips twitch upwards momentarily too.

Taking care of hair was something the blonde was rather meticulous over, and as such, she made sure to work carefully and slowly from the tips and then towards the roots to avoid breaking any strands. Having handled all kinds of hair before—and namely Skuld's monster hair—she made sure her touch was feather-like to avoid causing Robbie any pain.

"Sometimes I wish Marcus was here; he'd know what the fuck to do." It was better to talk than keep doing what she was doing in silence, but if Robbie wished for the latter, then the blonde would shut up. "He was the kind of uncle who gave off spy vibes and it was pretty entertaining." Even though he was no spy. Still, kids tended to see things differently.
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#18
Amy mirrored Robbie's smile, which gave the punk hope.

Once Amy began to comb her hair, the punk was actually rather surprised by how gentle and thorough she was. Robbie took good care of her hair, but Amy's touch reminded her of a professional's. It was almost ticklish in a way, sending that strangely pleasant sensation crawling across Robbie's scalp and down her neck. Thus, it came as little surprise when a soft hum slipped from Robbie's lips.

"That feels nice." It really did.

Maybe Amy could comb Robbie's hair more often.

"Sometimes I wish Marcus was here; he'd know what the fuck to do."

Robbie was unsure if she was supposed to know who Marcus was. "Yeah?"

"He was the kind of uncle who gave off spy vibes and it was pretty entertaining."

So he was Amy's uncle. An uncle who gave off spy vibes.

It required no small amount of effort not to associate Marcus with Levka; the latter could burn in hell alongside most of the other people in this town.

"What was he like?" Robbie was genuinely interested if Amy felt like talking about her dead uncle. Moreover, the punk wanted to get an idea of him so the other spy uncle she knew wouldn't taint her perception of Marcus.
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#19
"That feels nice."

She was sincerely glad to hear.

Then the punk inquired about Amy's uncle and the blonde hummed faintly in response.

"He was one of those guys who could somehow be both formal and outrageously stupid at the same time." She said, her focus mostly on Robbie's hair. "He was very lax about things and he pretty much let me do whatever because he believed I'd learn from my mistakes." Which.. she had, but she would've appreciated it if he'd actually warned her about some things beforehand.

"He was pretty fun, but I don't think he knew what raising a kid meant—I mean.. He gave me a lighter for my tenth birthday, but I guess the thought is what counts." She huffed for it and for once her mood seemed to lighten.
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#20
Robbie smiled at Amy's hum, and she gave a soft tune of her own.

"He was one of those guys who could somehow be both formal and outrageously stupid at the same time."

Of all the ways the blonde could have started her description, that had to be one of the best. Such an introduction bolstered Robbie's smile, and she listened with great intent as Amy continued. From the sounds of it, Marcus had been pretty cool. He also seemed to let Amy get away with murder, which was also fun. As for the bit behind letting his niece learn from her mistakes, the punk admired that logic.

For better or for worse, firsthand experience was a ruthlessly effective teacher.

"He was pretty fun, but I don't think he knew what raising a kid meant—I mean.. He gave me a lighter for my tenth birthday, but I guess the thought is what counts."

"I would have liked him," Robbie said, ending her remark with a soft hum. According to how Amy described him, he was the reason why Amy was the way that she was.

Robbie would have liked to have a cool, fun uncle like that.
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#21
"I would have liked him."

Who wouldn't have?

"Yeah," she said, not really knowing what to add after that. Falling silent once again, the blonde opted to focus on the punk's hair before calling it done and clearing the comb from any stray fibers of pink hair which might've gotten caught between those teeth.

"Did you have anyone? Aside from your dipshit parents I mean. Brother? Sister? Aunt? Uncle? Goldfish?" Yeah, okay, goldfish were pretty fucking stupid, but it wasn't like Amy was being serious on the last bit; it was an attempt at humor whilst breaching a topic which wasn't very pleasant last time they'd touched it.

In the meantime, the blonde would bother to comb her own hair whilst listening to whatever Robbie might have to say.
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#22
The topic of Marcus concluded with a simple agreement, and silence followed in its wake. Although conversation was nice, Robbie also didn't mind the quiet as Amy finished combing her hair. She hoped that talking about her uncle had lifted Amy's spirits.

Once the blonde was finished and started to clear her comb, Robbie ushered a soft hum, content despite how tonight had begun.

"Did you have anyone? Aside from your dipshit parents I mean. Brother? Sister? Aunt? Uncle? Goldfish?"

That was an unexpected question, though appropriate given the previous subject. A smile crept across Robbie's lips, but it was bittersweet. "I was an only kid like my parents." No brothers, no sisters, no aunts, no uncles. The mention of goldfish, however, brightened Robbie's smile.

"My mom had a cat, but he was a mean bastard." A wistful sigh escaped the punk then. "I had some dipshit friends in high school, the occasional girlfriend."

Robbie gave Amy a coy look at that. "There was Lee, but you know about him."
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#23
"I was an only kid like my parents."

Truthfully, that was even more sucky. Having no one to turn to.

Amy couldn't possibly imagine living without her uncle, but then again, the circumstances of hers and Robbie's upbringing weren't exactly the same. The cat bit seemed to match—alongside the shitty parents bit—but that was about it.

"I had some dipshit friends in high school, the occasional girlfriend."

"I take it boys were too stupid to hold your attention for long, hm?" She said in response to the coy look Robbie gave her, tone only partially teasing as Amy arched a brow. Then Lee was mentioned and.. yeah. Lee was kind of the same case as Aiden; both of them had faded away over time.
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#24
Having no one but shitty parents had indeed been sucky.

If she were honest with herself, Robbie was the faintest bit jealous of Amy's relationship with her uncle, but she didn't dare voice her envy given what had happened to Marcus. It felt disrespectful to his memory somehow.

Fortunately, they didn't linger on that topic for long.

"I take it boys were too stupid to hold your attention for long, hm?"

Robbie smiled at Amy's tease, offering an all too modest shrug. "Some were really sweet, but never like the girls I knew." It shouldn't have surprised anyone how gay most high school students in the San Francisco Bay Area were, at least in Robbie's opinion. "Most of them were pretty stupid, though."
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#25
The punk smiled which was probably more soothing than her attempts at calming Amy down.

"Some were really sweet, but never like the girls I knew."

That much was true; women were different creatures entirely and perhaps the reason why Amy found herself more attracted to them than the opposite sex. Not that she wouldn't bone a man—don't get her wrong, she would—but being with a woman was different, more exciting.

"Most of them were pretty stupid, though."

Also that.

Men tended to be bigger idiots than women—generally speaking, of course.

The conversation having died for now with both of them on the bed and wrapped in towels left Amy unsure of how to proceed, her head already hazy from the cauldron of emotions boiling inside of it. Leaving the comb against the mattress once she was done with her own hair, she shifted some and brought both of her legs up on the bed.

Confusion and want driving her forward, Amy rested one hand against the punk's shoulder, the other ensuring the towel remained wrapped around her body as she leaned forward and aimed to kiss Robbie's neck from behind.
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#26
When the conversation expired, reaching its natural end, Robbie half-expected Amy to get up and put on some clothes. As much as she would have liked to make something more of tonight, the punk reminded herself of how stressed Amy had been earlier. If the blonde needed peace and quiet, then Robbie would do everything she could to provide as much.

Robbie watched as Amy brought her legs up on the bed, however, curious and doting as ever.

Then Amy put a hand on Robbie's shoulder, the touch eliciting a gentle hum, before the blonde leaned in and kissed Robbie's neck. It seemed like Robbie wasn't the only one who wanted to make something more of tonight.

"Amy," Robbie said for the simple pleasure of saying her name, lolling her head to the side so that Amy's tender lips could reach more of her skin. Inhaling slowly, the punk indulged in the soft, affectionate touch, her thoughts muted and distant.
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#27
"Amy."

Her name was spoken before the punk lolled her head to the side to expose more tender skin to the blonde. Shaky breaths ghosted Robbie's skin on occasion, Amy's grip on the punk's shoulder intensifying whilst the kisses remained gentle.

"You're fucking with my mind."

She really was.

Amy wasn't sure if it was closeness she wanted or something more, but that uncertainty stirred a certain kind of frustration within the blonde. If she didn't know any better, she might've growled just like she'd done when Robbie had tugged at her hair a tad too roughly, but as it was now, she felt a weird mix of impatient, frustrated and longing for something she couldn't quite pin.

Maybe she wanted the punk close.

Or perhaps she needed a frying pan in the back of the head to get her shit straight.
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#28
Although Amy's grip on the punk's shoulder tightened, Robbie did nothing to stop her. The kisses remained gentle, and Robbie's breath remained even. She was all too willing to offer herself to Amy's wants, whatever they might be.

"You're fucking with my mind."

Whether Amy was referring to her empathic ability, Robbie wasn't entirely certain. Turning to meet Amy's gaze, her own still its natural hue, the punk smiled and shook her head. "I'll let you in on a secret," she began, all but whispering, "It's the eyes that give it away."

At least among the living; Robbie had no idea if the same held true among vampires.

More often than not, a change in eye color meant something far worse when it came to the undead.

Robbie, still smiling, reached out and caressed Amy's cheek, stroking that soft skin with her thumb. For the first time in a while, the punk felt lucky to be where she was—by Amy's side. Despite all the misery and misfortune that they had gone through, this right here was worth it.

If only Robbie knew how to say that.
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#29
The secret Robbie let her in on wasn't an entirely accurate one; Regina's eyes hadn't changed color when she'd decided to use her abilities, but that thought occupied the blonde's mind for barely half a second.

Robbie reached to caress Amy's cheek and the blonde closed her eyes, leaning into the touch ever so slightly. "I don't know what I wanna do with you." Because she honestly didn't and that much showed in her eyes despite how warm her gaze had grown. "You confuse me so terribly, Callaghan." It was an outrageously honest admission, amber fire fixated on a set of blue green eyes,

Reaching to get a hold of the punk's hand which was resting against her cheek, Amy would bring it against her lips and offer a ghost of a kiss to Robbie's knuckles, her grip gentle.

She really hadn't the faintest clue what she was doing or what it was she wanted.
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#30
"I don't know what I wanna do with you."

Such a remark would have made a lovely tease, but Robbie was surprised by the honesty behind it. Amy seemed to be at a genuine loss, which was both intriguing and somehow heartwarming. The punk had no idea why that was.

"You confuse me so terribly, Callaghan."

"I don't mean to," Robbie said in kind, equally as honest.

When Amy moved to take her hand, the punk didn't resist, her smile never wavering. The wistful kiss to Robbie's knuckles, were she alive, would have easily been enough to color her features a deep red. Instead, she offered a quiet hum and glanced away.

Robbie knew what she wanted to say then, but she almost wasn't brave enough to say it.
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#31
"I don't mean to."

That didn't help matters any; Amy remained at a loss, still.

Robbie's sudden bashfulness came as a surprise; the punk tore her gaze away from Amy, but that hardly stopped the blonde from letting her lips ghost the punk's knuckles for a second longer. The frustration from earlier had been replaced by never-ending confusion, a certain degree of uncertainty taking over Amy's mind.

She had never felt so lost before; she always knew where she was headed, but not now.

Now she was stuck here, trying to work out what the hell was going on in her head.

The hand on Robbie's shoulder had relaxed considerably and by the time Amy had released her grip on Robbie's hand, her fingertips had shifted from resting against a bony shoulder to resting against a slim waist. Emotions were a confusing thing and words seemed to fail her and, as such, Amy did the only thing she knew to do and kissed Robbie's cheek lightly before pulling back entirely.

She let go of her gentle hold and instead opted to get up and shuffle through her clothes briefly to get a hold of a red and black flannel shirt, which she'd bother to button up halfway through. Underwear she'd bother to wear mostly to be an annoyance, but she'd skip the bra part just 'cause she couldn't be arsed. Then, because she couldn't be arsed to return the towel back to where it belonged, she'd throw it on the floor and settle on the bed once again.

A faint hum would leave her, amber eyes refocusing on Robbie, her gaze as vague as it was before despite its intensity. "I still have no idea what it is I want." It was spoken in a mumble, but the punk would be able to hear, Amy was sure. She tried to work it out, but the uncertainty was still there even as Amy chose to tug at Robbie's towel, an indication that she should let go of it.

And should the punk comply, Amy would throw her towel on the floor as well to accompany her own, before her fingertips reached for the sheets which were left rather messily on the bed since the both of them had awoken for their nightly prowling. The movement would be a quick one and before Robbie knew it, she'd have the soft fabric concealing her body instead of the soaked towel.

"Get on the bed properly."

Amy really didn't want to have sex—not yet, anyway. All she wanted to do was hold Robbie in her arms whilst leaning against the back of the bed and she made sure to state as much by tugging the punk by the waist.
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#32
For all her newfound shyness, Robbie couldn't avert her gaze for long. She soon returned her attention to Amy, feeling the blonde's hold on her shoulder loosen; that hand soon moved downward to linger over Robbie's waist, fingertips almost ticklishly brushing over pale skin where the towel failed to cover her. Ever fond of such little touches, Robbie continued to hum, her smile returning when Amy kissed her cheek.

But then Amy withdrew entirely, which disappointed the punk somewhat.

Robbie watched with something of a pout while Amy got dressed, slipping into a button-up flannel shirt and some underwear. As always, the blonde was a sight to behold, and the punk found herself smiling still.

Since when did she smile so much?

Sitting upright a little more once Amy's amber gaze returned to her, Robbie tilted her head a bit. As difficult to read as they were, those eyes never ceased to draw in Robbie's attention.

"I still have no idea what it is I want."

That made Robbie want to speak her mind again, but she hesitated. Then Amy decided to pull at Robbie's towel, and her efforts met little resistance. It fell away as soon as Robbie let go, revealing her gaunt form. Although she was well-aware that she didn't have the body of a model, Robbie thought nothing of it in Amy's presence; she knew that it didn't matter to the blonde.

Amy tossed the towel aside before grabbing a loose bed sheet, soon wrapping Robbie with it like a spider with her prey.

"Get on the bed properly."

With a smile and a nod, Robbie scooted back and followed Amy's lead, guided by gentle tugs and nudges until they started to settle in. Amidst the movement, the punk also managed to sneak a kiss to Amy's jaw, humming at the accomplishment.
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#33
There was little resistance from the punk and Amy smiled for it, the smile growing ever-so-slightly when a kiss was planted on her jaw by Robbie's lips. Whilst the blonde didn't reciprocate the soft tune, she did let her fingers drown in pink locks and even dared to pull a couple of strands behind Robbie's ear.

Her other hand would continue to rest against the punk's stomach and prevent her from going anywhere, but ultimately, the hold was gentle, lacking any and all forcefulness.

Amy hadn't the faintest idea what to say, finding silence to be more appropriate in this precise moment.

Uncharacteristically gentle, Amy buried her lips and nose in pink hair, a cold breath leaving her a second later; she was content. Her mind was rendered peacefully blank.
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#34
There was no better place in the world than Amy's arms.

Comfortable and content, Robbie smiled with the warmth of the summer evening. She indulged in the sensation of Amy's fingers moving through her hair, and she continued to hum once Amy tucked a few stray locks behind her ear. This affection, this closeness was all Robbie could ask for. It gave her the feeling that everything would be okay so long as they were together.

Robbie put both her hands over the one on her stomach, happier than she could ever hope to express.

Yet, she still felt an urge to break the silence.

"I'm yours," she said softly, giving the hand over her stomach a gentle squeeze, "I'm yours, Amy."

It felt right to say. More right than anything had ever felt.
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#35
It was silly.

Silly how doing nothing but sitting on the bed with Robbie in her arms made her feel content. People believed there were two different types of decisions; those made with the mind and those made with the heart. Truthfully, it was all but a bunch of bullshit; Amy's heart was stone cold, frozen in time and unbeating, and yet here she was; facing the same emotional troubles she had before her untimely death.

It was such a weak thing, the human mind.

Then words came, which all but proved the above statement.

"I'm yours."

Words spoken bizarrely softly, the grip the punk had on Amy's hand tightening momentarily.

"I'm yours, Amy."

For once, hearing such an admission didn't weird her out like it had done countless times in the past; it felt weirdly right, it was something she could fully accept instead of only partially. Her fingers curled against the pink locks that were trapped between them and she hummed faintly, the sound barely audible. "And so am I." Amy didn't know if she wanted anything else; she had it all despite how fucked things were.

Silence followed, with the blonde half-tempted to sneak a hand beneath the bed sheets, but she held back for now and instead opted to play with the edges of the soft fabric and tease the punk that way.

"Can I ask you something?"
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#36
Amy curled her fingers in Robbie's hair, and the punk knew without Amy having to say anything.

"And so am I."

It was one thing to know, and it was another to hear it aloud. Although Robbie's heart was silent, her heartstrings drew taut at Amy's words. They might have been dead, but Robbie felt happier than she had in so long. Hearing Amy say that she was Robbie's brought her more joy than anything.

Robbie closed her eyes, content to spend the rest of the night like this. Even when she noticed Amy teasing the edges of the sheet, Robbie simply cuddled closer, deeper into Amy's arms.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," Robbie said, as if she would have ever refused.

Curious about what was on Amy's mind, the punk hummed softly and brushed her thumb in small circles on the back of Amy's hand.
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#37
Robbie shuffled even closer and, in turn, Amy tightened her grasp on the punk somewhat whilst straightening against the bed some more. New moon nearing or not, she sincerely felt more relaxed tonight than any other night since or before her turning.

"Yeah."

The go ahead was given and Amy cast her gaze downwards momentarily.

"You never told me," a half-beat pause, the teasing of the bed sheets stopping, but her fingers continuing to stroke the punk's hair gently. "What's 'Robbie' short for?" If Amy had to guess, it was probably an artistic take on the name 'Robin', but the blonde would hardly bother voicing that out loud.

She'd seen a lot of weird names during her short time on Earth to be surprised if this was, in fact, Robbie's given name.
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#38
Robbie certainly wasn't opposed to being held closer.

"You never told me,"

The pause was such a tease to Robbie's curiosity, but she was content so long as Amy kept stroking her hair.

"What's 'Robbie' short for?"

Then and only then did it occur to Robbie that she had never told Amy her given name. It almost came as a surprise, even though it shouldn't have; Robbie never went by the name she was given. "Robin-Marie," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "It's some kind of tradition from my mom's side, the 'two names tied into one' thing."

Suffice it to say that Robbie wasn't enamored with it.
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#39
"Robin-Marie."

Robin-Marie Callaghan was a mouthful, but it was a pretty name in Amy's opinion.

"It's some kind of tradition from my mom's side, the 'two names tied into one' thing."

That was an interesting tidbit of information and Amy hummed faintly in acknowledgement. "Robin's a pretty name," as well as a pretty bird, but Amy didn't bother voicing that. "I take it you're not particularly fond of it though, are you?" Maybe bad memories were linked to it, or perhaps Robbie had grown tired of hearing it over the years.

Truthfully, Amy would've gotten quite tired herself if she heard 'Robin-Marie' on a daily basis and, aside from that, was it really convenient to scream that out loud when your kid pissed you off?
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#40
Robin-Marie was indeed a mouthful, one that had long since lost its beauty in Robbie's opinion.

The only consolation was how Amy seemed to think that Robin was pretty, which elicited a soft hum from the punk. She remembered how Katya had liked it too, but quickly pushed that memory as far down as she should.

"I take it you're not particularly fond of it though, are you?"

Robbie shook her head, shifting somewhat in the blonde's arms.

"My mom would use it whenever she was pissed," she said at first, her dispassionate tone saying more than she did, "Which was... most of the time, honestly." A hollow scoff escaped Robbie then, a testament to how she felt about her mother or her given name.

It required no small amount of effort not to let either of the two poison Robbie's mood.
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#41
"My mom would use it whenever she was pissed."

That explained where a lot of Robbie's dislike for that name came from; it was never pleasant to have such memories tied to things like your name and, absentmindedly, Amy continued to stroke the punk's hair as she spoke, the movement meant to soothe—or at the very least distract.

"My uncle used to call me ''Amélie'' because he wasn't too fond of "Amilia"—too American for his tastes, but." She paused then, her fingers fiddling with the sheet once again. "I've stopped going by that name entirely after he died and I chose to go by "Amy" instead." She would've shrugged had she not feared that doing so would disturb the punk, so she merely continued stroking Robbie's hair.

"I'd like to visit France sometime; Marcus has a house in Lorraine, but I'm not sure if it's intact or not."

But that was but a fantasy and little else.
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#42
Amy's company made things easier, like always. The way she stroked Robbie's hair was nice, too.

Robbie could count on one hand the number of people in the world who were privy to why she went by Robbie rather than her name, and talking to Amy about it just felt easier than it usually did.

"My uncle used to call me ''Amélie'' because he wasn't too fond of "Amilia"—too American for his tastes, but."

She smiled at that, wondering if the man would have taken to calling her something so French.

"I've stopped going by that name entirely after he died and I chose to go by "Amy" instead."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The punk truly was. "Amélie, Amilia, Amy." Although Robbie had a suspicion that there might be less than pleasant memories attached to Amy's French-sounding name, she couldn't not echo such beautiful names, or at least attempt to. Suffice it so say that her French was nonexistent at best.

"I'd like to visit France sometime; Marcus has a house in Lorraine, but I'm not sure if it's intact or not."

Robbie hummed at that, an almost wistful smile on her face. "We can go there and find out," she said, "Where in France is Lorraine?"
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#43
Amy hummed faintly when Robbie tested all of those names on her tongue, some kind of confirmation that it was, in fact, true; those were all names she and others had used in the past and the present alike to refer to her.

The punk had expressed how sorry she was for Amy's loss and, whilst the blonde appreciated it, she chose to move right over it for the sake of not dampening the mood they had going on.

Thank fuck a distraction was posed, eventually.

"Lorraine's located in the northeastern part of France, bordering with Germany," she explained, hoping that Robbie would be able to at least mentally picture a map of France. Amy most definitely knew her geography, but she also knew that such descriptions were of little aid.
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#44
"Lorraine's located in the northeastern part of France, bordering with Germany."

Robbie hummed and offered a small nod, careful not to interrupt Amy stroking her hair.

"What do you think it's like there?" Fantasies being what they were, the punk couldn't help but try to imagine what it must be like in Lorraine. "Like, the climate. The people." She almost said "the food," but stopped herself before she could.

She also wondered if Lorraine had shifters and vampires. There was no obvious reason why it wouldn't.

Maybe they were unlucky, and Mountainside was supernatural hell.
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#45
"What do you think it's like there?"

"Like, the climate. The people."

"Well, the people, I imagine, are probably terribly French; hot women are probably abound there, too, which is a plus.. As for the climaaate..." She trailed off, clicking her tongue lightly against the roof of her mouth for a couple of beats. "I imagine it'd be like Colorado's climate? But, then again, it isn't like vampires are affected by it." Cue a faint smirk.

But, onto more important matters.

"Would you object if I pinned you against the bed?" A very curious question coming from a very curious blonde. Amy stopped stroking Robbie's hair, then, and waited for an answer.
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#46
"Well, the people, I imagine, are probably terribly French; hot women are probably abound there, too, which is a plus."

Robbie had the most ridiculous question.

"Do you think women really don't shave over there?" She had never bothered to look it up, but it was something Robbie often heard about European women. Whether it was bullshit, she had no idea.

As for the climate, Amy had a point. It was pretty irrelevant to them.

"Would you object if I pinned you against the bed?"

The stroking had stopped by then, and Robbie couldn't help but smile. "Not at all."
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#47
"Do you think women really don't shave over there?"

What.

....

"I guess we'll have to go there and find out." Amy said in the end, her body tensing somewhat as she tried to stifle a laugh. Then the punk said she was indeed allowed to pin her against the bed and an impish sort of smile crept across the blonde's lips.

Shifting some, Amy was sure to be gentle with her movements as she slipped free from where she was currently resting against the bed and once Robbie made herself comfortable, the blonde wouldn't hesitate to straddle her and give her a kiss on the lips.
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#48
"I guess we'll have to go there and find out."

...

Hhhhh.

Although, Amy's attempts at stifling a laugh gave it away. If she were still alive, Robbie probably would have blushed in embarrassment, but she was spared the humility in undeath. At least being dead had some perks.

Fortunately for the punk, Amy was quick to seize the opportunity, an impish grin on her face.

Following the blonde's gentle movements, Robbie made herself comfortable lying on her back before Amy straddled her. With half-lidded eyes, the punk gazed up at her girlfriend and reveled in the sight, the way that half-buttoned flannel shirt barely covered Amy. Robbie even worried her lower lip, biting it a bit as a wordless tease for the blonde.

Then Amy leaned down and kissed her. Robbie immediately buried a hand in Amy's hair as their lips interlocked, the other resting on Amy's hip.
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#49
Robbie buried her fingers in Amy's hair which elicited a faint sound from the blonde during their kiss.

It was a welcome sensation.

Not really wishing to ruin the gentleness they had going on earlier, Amy was sure to be gentle with the kiss they were sharing, her fingers immersing themselves in pink locks as the punk rested a hand against her hip to supposedly keep her in place.

Amy would pull back eventually, however, pale blonde hair covering her face partially as she watched the one below her with a set of curious amber eyes. "Guide me." It was a request which was spoken rather softly, her gaze very much like a set of dying embers, smoldering.

Robbie was free to show Amy what she wanted.
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#50
Few things compared to the soft sounds she and Amy shared.

While such kisses usually led to something a bit rougher, Robbie was surprised and pleased when Amy remained gentle. The punk felt Amy's fingers in her hair, and she made a soft sound of her own.

The blonde eventually withdrew, however, and Robbie didn't bother hiding her pout.

"Guide me."

Such softly spoken words pulled the corners of Robbie's mouth upward, and she hummed softly in contemplation.

Reaching up, she took Amy's hand and brought it to her lips. The punk kissed each fingertip, massaging the palm of Amy's hand with her thumb. Then Robbie put Amy's hand over her silent heart, guiding those same fingers to cup her breast through the sheet Robbie was wrapped in.
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