Feel of the Flesh
Chapter Eight
Come, gentle night, — come, loving black brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of Heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun. -
Juliet, Act III, scene ii
Innya sat across from Stray on the living room floor, humming along softly to the Eddie Vedder song he was singing. His voice carried through the house, sailing through the hallways and bouncing off the ceder plank walls. Lightly, gracefully, Stray's elegant brown fingers formed complicated chords, moving along the neck of her brother's old Martin guitar with deft skill.
"Society, you're a crazy breed! Hope you're not lonely, without me!"
Stray grinned his toothy grin and bowed slightly as Innya clapped for him.
"You want to hear another?" he asked, his rich green eyes skimming discreetly over Innya's form. She noticed this, and a small wave of satisfaction swelled in her. She looked down at her body, and praised the Moon that she was young and fast and fair. Her creamy skin lay shining under a deep brown shirt-dress, her long shapely legs stretched out beside Stray's tan ones, and she felt his eyes travel once more over her; up her her legs, caressing her waist, admiring the full breasts that lay hidden beneath the rich chocolate fabric of her clothing.
"Of course!" she exclaimed, feeling her conscience prickle with guilt as she heard her own breathy voice. Stray grinned and picked up the beat-up Martin once again, smirking evilly as his hot fingers brushed against her leg. Stray began to croon, singing verses that spoke of young lovers, and bougainvillea blooms, and a passing afternoon. Innya closed her eyes and just listened.
"Who is this, Innya?"
Rhys voice was gruff, and Innya was pulled out of her daze by it. Stray stopped playing.
"My name is Stray, Just Stray. It's very nice to meet you."
Rhys extended his hand, eying Stray warily.
"I'm Rhys. Innya's boyfriend/"
"It's very nice to meet you, Rhys."
Stray stepped forward, grinning, to shake Rhys' hand.
"Well, it's nice to meet you too."
Rhys stepped back, grumbling. Mr. Bannatyne smiled warmly and sauntered over to where Stray stood, still holding Lar's guitar.
"How long have you played?" Mr Bannatyne asked mildly. The tension in the air dissolved as Edward and Stray started a quiet conversation, and Rhys relaxed visibly.
"What pack are you from?" Rhys questioned.
"Well, I really don't have one. My mother died when I was just a pup, and I never really knew my father. My distant cousin took me in when mama died, but I ... didn't do too well there. He encouraged me- as he was a rogue- to hunt humans and that didn't settle too well with me. So, when I was 13, I left. And I've been traveling ever since. A man of means by no means; King of the road!"
Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of Heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun. -
Juliet, Act III, scene ii
Innya sat across from Stray on the living room floor, humming along softly to the Eddie Vedder song he was singing. His voice carried through the house, sailing through the hallways and bouncing off the ceder plank walls. Lightly, gracefully, Stray's elegant brown fingers formed complicated chords, moving along the neck of her brother's old Martin guitar with deft skill.
"Society, you're a crazy breed! Hope you're not lonely, without me!"
Stray grinned his toothy grin and bowed slightly as Innya clapped for him.
"You want to hear another?" he asked, his rich green eyes skimming discreetly over Innya's form. She noticed this, and a small wave of satisfaction swelled in her. She looked down at her body, and praised the Moon that she was young and fast and fair. Her creamy skin lay shining under a deep brown shirt-dress, her long shapely legs stretched out beside Stray's tan ones, and she felt his eyes travel once more over her; up her her legs, caressing her waist, admiring the full breasts that lay hidden beneath the rich chocolate fabric of her clothing.
"Of course!" she exclaimed, feeling her conscience prickle with guilt as she heard her own breathy voice. Stray grinned and picked up the beat-up Martin once again, smirking evilly as his hot fingers brushed against her leg. Stray began to croon, singing verses that spoke of young lovers, and bougainvillea blooms, and a passing afternoon. Innya closed her eyes and just listened.
"Who is this, Innya?"
Rhys voice was gruff, and Innya was pulled out of her daze by it. Stray stopped playing.
"My name is Stray, Just Stray. It's very nice to meet you."
Rhys extended his hand, eying Stray warily.
"I'm Rhys. Innya's boyfriend/"
"It's very nice to meet you, Rhys."
Stray stepped forward, grinning, to shake Rhys' hand.
"Well, it's nice to meet you too."
Rhys stepped back, grumbling. Mr. Bannatyne smiled warmly and sauntered over to where Stray stood, still holding Lar's guitar.
"How long have you played?" Mr Bannatyne asked mildly. The tension in the air dissolved as Edward and Stray started a quiet conversation, and Rhys relaxed visibly.
"What pack are you from?" Rhys questioned.
"Well, I really don't have one. My mother died when I was just a pup, and I never really knew my father. My distant cousin took me in when mama died, but I ... didn't do too well there. He encouraged me- as he was a rogue- to hunt humans and that didn't settle too well with me. So, when I was 13, I left. And I've been traveling ever since. A man of means by no means; King of the road!"