2020-02-24 - Love (Until We Bleed)

The next couple of days, Lilith improves, but she still won't talk about what happened or what she's feeling. It leaves her subdued and depressed, and she's doubling up on painkillers from the stash she has accumulated over so many hospital visits. Sometimes, Byron catches her looking at herself in the mirror while in the bathroom, caught and fixated on the fading marks on her neck from burn and bruise, sometimes she reaches out and touches the glass, as if comparing it to another mirror she broke in the recent terrible Dream.

Improvements are nice, though. She's more affectionate in return, even initiates more hugs and cuddles and small kisses. She spends some time playing with the cat to wear him down with toys when he starts pacing and darting around looking for something to destroy with pent up energy. She's been holed up resting and healing with the animal enough now to see the signs before it happens. In fact, they're both always near each other, even if there's some stubborn space between and complaints about getting stalked here and there when she almost trips over the damn thing.

Today, she eats like normal and even asks to go to the grocery with him for the sake of air and routine. There was no more bandaging and she wore a high cowl neck sweater and used cosmetics to remove the fading marks from the public's view. Lilith also conversationally suggests going back to work (soon) to see if it helps her shake all the fog off, but leaves it pretty open-ended, submissive to Byron as to when he thinks she should.

Lilith is present enough, but it's... still not right. Her mind is starting to grow more and more strained and pressured. In reaction, she's fighting harder to contain the cracks by continuing to tamp the emotions. She might be afraid of what happens when she finally lets herself feel what she knows. It might be a sign she's close to breaking point, that dark stain is shifting and waiting to taint the moment it happens. Maybe she needs to lose control to let it all out, it's Lilith, she does that here and there. Then again, maybe she'll lose control and do something that makes things worse. It's hard to know what to do with that.

Right now, it's late in the evening after dinner and Lilith is in the tub with her hair piled up and held with a clip to keep it out of the water. It's still loosely curled from earlier in the day when she got dressed in full for the store trip, a few loose tendrils at dangle. She's reclined with her arms gently moving in slosh through bubbles and water, staring at the ceiling thinking who knows what, her expression is so far away with distraction. Eventually, she breaks that silence, though, looking at the time on her phone before deciding to call out with test, voice stronger and lacking the rasp of injury when it echoes.

"Babe?"

Byron is lucky that he has the option of working from home, so he's returned to his normal day-to-day even if makes sure that, for the most part, he's at home just so he can keep an eye on Lilith. In between phone calls and video conferences and pitch writing, he always made sure to take some time away to keep her company. It might make him seem over-protective, if not over-bearing in her eyes. He'll watch a show with her or discuss current events. Though it's hard talking about positive topics, aside for his plans for the casino, because a lot of their friends and acquaintances all seem to be suffering just as they are.

While neither of them dares to bring up her injuries, as they are slowly healing, Byron takes notice of them. It was hard not to. He caused those injuries. He had to wonder now whether Lilith was holding back, just as Alexander believed that Isabella was during their fight. He's no fool, he knows exactly the kind of damage that Lilith can do even though he's confident in his own abilities to deal with that if he ever needed to-- And strangely, in this unfortunate circumstance, he was given that chance. He tries not to stare, especially the dark discoloration at her neck, but she might catch him looking at it from time to time as if mesmerized by the injury.

With Lilith in the shower, Byron was finishing off some last minute errands in his office. He mostly had to make a few calls, this last one leaving him incredibly annoyed. "What an asshole." Though it's not just what was discussed during that call that raises his ire, there's something personal there as well and it quietly fuels his anger as he pushes himself up and out of his executive chair to hear Lilith's voice calling for him from the bathroom.

It doesn't lessen his foul mood, not immediately anyway, but doing his best to hide the strain from his voice, he calls out, "Are there no fresh towels in there?" He assumes that she's calling him because she needs something. Gripping his phone tightly within his hand, the muscles in his arm tensed, he goes to check the bathroom to see what she wanted. At this hour, he's already done away with his suit jacket, leaving in a dress shirt, slacks and undone tie. When he meets with her, he has on this curious expression, brows lifted, "Yes, hon?"

Lilith draws in a breath and sits up from recline in the water with gentle splash and roll of the tub's fragrant contents, prompted into motion from stillness by the sound of Byron's voice. The woman takes a moment to look at him, turned with her fingertips automatically going to play in some bubbles that overflowed onto the tub ledging. What slips from her mouth in greeting almost sounds sheepish. The towels nearby appear to be fine and bountiful,

"... hi."

There's a fond-eyed and focused pause after that greeting, then the woman's lips tinge with smile when she continues, head tipping toward the adjacent bedroom behind him as he stands, "It's hidden under the mattress on my side. Before you get it out, bring us drinks and maybe the bottle too..." Curling her fingers then at the ledge where they play, she instead uses her hand for support to push into standing rise out of the water, rivulets at cascade down wet skin. As she leans for a towel, bubbles shimmer with cling on her skin in the low ambient light setting, "By the time you get settled somewhere, I'll be along."

Lilith's is still gentle and quiet, but there's a willfulness about the tone of her voice that's...

You know, technically, it's bossy. But somehow, Lilith pulls this non-optional request off in a way that sounds effortless, saying things that compel and make someone want to comply instead of question or argue. It's familiar and animated and alive despite the soft delivery and that might feel damn good to hear. You know. Bossy aside.

She's ready. Lilith is letting Byron know.

"Hey." Byron's voice comes out light and friendly, doing his best to temper whatever it is that aggravates him at this moment. Seeing the stack of towels within reach, he knows that it's not that which she is seeking. Well if it's not that, he's about to scan the room to see what else may be missing, but then Lilith seems to want to play a little game. Confused at first, despite the warm vibes that he's trying to give off, Byron's not really interested in games.

"What i--" He starts to say, just as Lilith pulls herself up out of the water, giving him full view of her glistening body, covered in foamy bubbles, oddly, in some of the most alluring places. "iis?" He finally ends his question, brow quirked with this look of amusement on his face. Despite her standing there, looking at him, Byron was never one to shy away from showing his appreciation of her beautiful feminine form and he does so now wit his own wandering gaze.

Maybe he'll see just where this game is heading to before he passes judgment and let his aggravated mood ruin things.

This was also quite a change from the Lilith that he had since the bad Dream. The one who always looked like a broken doll whenever he talked to her or when he observed her, sitting there beside him, her eyes seemingly fixated on the television, but he knew that her mind was elsewhere-- he'd read her emotions several times since they returned home from the hospital. It was his way of keeping up on her what she might be feeling, but was unwilling to tell him.

Without any other word, but leaving with a final glance, Byron does as he's told, heading to the bar to pour them a couple of glasses of expensive champagne, but rather than leaving the bottle at the bar, he brings it along as well. Placing both filled glasses of bubbly and the bottle on the nightstand on his side of the bed, he casts another look back towards the bathroom, before circling the bed to examine just the spot which Lilith had indicated, "Should I try and guess what you're hiding?" He calls out from the bedroom, already knelt down beside her section of bed to lift that mattress up.

When the mattress is lifted, Byron's kneeling view allows him to see the album she had out, his gift they didn't pursue a couple nights prior.

"You could. But it's probably quicker just to grab it. You like efficiency."

That sounds nicely like Lilith too with her voice pitched up to be heard from the bathroom where she's drying off and putting on lotion, mingling gentle floral bath soak fragrance with subtle warmth and sweetness of cream to melt into the skin and leave silk behind. Mostly, she's about the business of drying and pampering her body with routine, but when she pulls down her hair and takes up a brush to the curling loose strands to sleek and detangle, she pauses and looks at herself, completely bare, the marking at her arm still redder with healing sear marks than the trace leavings at her throat with fading bruises. After a beat, she looks at the bedroom doorway frame, draws in a breath, then finishes with her hair.

When finished, she uses the bathroom entry to the walk-in closet for the master suite and slides on a white silk slip nightie with subtle shimmer to it given the fine quality of fabric. Though simplistic in sleek cut, the little slip of silken sleep dressing is cut to accent and cling to the body, more delicate shrouding and decoration than actual garment. He hasn't seen her wear it before, it looks like a sleep companion piece to the Valentine's lingerie, in truth. It's also all she puts on before she pads out in bare feet, toenails freshly painted a dusky rose to match her fingernails.

On her way to where he has the champagne set up, she reaches for a glass and plays with the stem instead of drinking or sitting right away, watching Byron with his gift. And even though she's standing there ready, even seeming to anticipate his opening to see what the album actually contains, her free hand knocks through her hair a touch anxiously. She's clearly shy about giving him something handmade as a gift like a sap, or maybe there's more personal things than just photographs inside.

"Fire at will."

The mattress lifted, Byron sees the mysterious album stashed away beneath it. He didn't push Lilith on it the other evening, but it seems like she's willing to open up about the thing now. Reaching a hand in to retrieve it, he kicks off his shoes and settles himself down upon the bed on Lilith's end at first, but he scoots himself over until he's practically smack dab down the middle. The album, itself, is set down beside him on his side of the bed. This gives him time to reach over for his glass of champagne and get ahead start on the drinking before the lady of the hour shows up.

Speaking of which, when Lilith first steps foot into the bedroom, she'll find Byron examining the album, but he has yet to open it and instead has decided to wait for her to join him. So when she does make her appearance, his coal dark eyes lift to find her wearing a shimmery slip of a thing. As with everything that she wears, she looked sexy in it. Of course, his eyes linger to every bit of curve that the nightie dares to cling to. Once she takes up the glass of champagne set out for her, he pats a space before him, right next to his outstretched leg, the other bent, that foot tucked beneath his thigh. "Relax." He tells her.

He'll wait either for her to join him on the bed or for her to decline, in case she preferred observing this whole affair from afar. At some point, he makes the decision to open album. She held this with her on the couch in the dark that late night. She'd been crying too, though neither of them wanted to openly admit that part. If he hadn't been so busy with work among other things, his mind probably would've been wondering what was in the album this whole time. Now he'll know.

Lilith drinks from her champagne glass before coming onto the mattress with kneeling walk until she's right in against Byron's side. Then she drops to lower onto her backside for seating against the pillows and him so she can see him and the album both with turns of head to look between. She smells delightful after all that bath soaking and lotion treatment, briefly nuzzling her head at his shoulder with encouragement for him to open the pages.

"... if it's too much at any point, you can stop."

She tacks those words on quietly while lifting her head to look at Byron, pressing his cheek with lingering kiss once she's made the disclaimer.

Lilith is aware she's not the only traumatized one in this house.

Once Lilith settles down upon the bed, nuzzling beside him, Byron waits a moment longer for her to get situated all while finishing off the champagne within his glass. Leaning over and across her, he sets his now empty glass down on the nightstand before pulling back. Her warning about him being able to stop if it became too much for him is something gets a quizzical look from him. "If you put it that way, I don't know if I want to open it anymore." He teases. Of course, he's going to open it. This was Lilith's gift to him. That doesn't mean that isn't quietly wary, inwardly steeling himself, the way he'll prepare for an object reading, in case that whatever she had planned, does become too much.

He's grateful for that comforting kiss against his cheek, leaning into it gently before doing the honors and opening the album cover.

The first thing that he does is to read the letter tucked away in the clear sleeve, his eyes following each and every word. Lilith was always expressive in this way and the poem brings a quiet smile to his lips, followed by a shake of his head. "You and your poems." He says with a laugh, which could come off as dismissive. "Always speaking from your heart." It's his turn to lean in close for a kiss, before venturing further.

She knows that he owns nothing from their childhood together and ever since he sacrificed the black heart to Gohl's casket, he doesn't even have that little glimmer of their past. But here was their lives laid out before him. There are times when he leans in to get a better look at a photograph, usually of older pictures or ones shot more so to show off the landscape around them and where they were just present. Their younger selves were goofy as hell and despite their harsh upbringing, they were usually smiling and happy.

He even laughs a little, pointing at one of the Polaroid pictures, "I remember that day," He remembers mostly all of these days, even if these memories aren't crystal clear. "You tried to put together a makeshift Halloween costume, only to learn that Mrs. G. had already bought you one. A real nice one too, but.." He continues to laugh, "What you created was pretty cute too for what you had to work with."

There were any amount of things that could've triggered him. Hell, he recognized many of these events and if he thought back on it, he could recall how many of those happy moments were often ruined on his return home in one way or another. Even if he fought hard to keep some of the good memories, cherishing them before stepping foot into his old house, where he'd learned that his thoughts and emotions were enough to trigger his father.

Then there are those pictures where you could really see them coming together as a young couple. While he can flash a great smile, in some of them, there's this hint of nervousness that can sometimes be seen in his eyes. He remembered these moments most of all, being some of the last moments that he spent with Lilith before she disappeared from his life. The finger that pointed at their childhood Halloween picture now drifted down to one of those strip booth photos where they were probably thirteen and life just felt like it was finally coming together for him. His father was dead, for one, and now he had...

"These really take me back." For good or bad, but he won't come out and say it. In his mind, he believes that this was it. These were all the photos she had, everything she wished to show him, but he continues on, flipping to the next few pages, taking some interest in the ripped out sections, but making no comment about that either.

Lilith stays quiet while watching Byron as much as the album through most of the whole thing, though she briefly breaks the silence to indicate the letters and why they're there, words drifting soft with explanation, "I know it gets bittersweet, but these were always for you. I didn't want the album to be a calculated lie. I wanted it to be real and show you how much you still mattered when I made you feel that you didn't."

There's a soft sigh at the tail end of that, as if she's regretting putting them into the album, but she keeps that quiet for the time being in favor of watching the tide turn with the more recent pictures. When he gets to the end of the album, the modeled photography shots are watermarked from a career photographer who lives in the next town over, which must have accounted for one of her busy days at 'work' here fairly recently, "... do you know how hard it was to be 'gone' all day to do this without you knowing? I had to bribe your guards not to tell you about following me out of town. It would have ruined the surprise."

The post-it on the last page, though, she seemed to forget about entirely until he gets right there to look at it too. It makes her catch her breath and stare.

Perhaps sensing Lilith's discomfort or just flat out guessing that these next few pages would be incredibly personal for her, Byron takes care when he goes through the various letters. In them were things he'd missed out on during their high school years. Though even then, Byron had been keeping tabs on her, so some of what is written he already knew about. At least the more mundane ramblings about her day. At that time, he practically stalked her and did emotional reads on her. Very much like when he'd read the black heart, he knew that Lilith still... love is a strong word for teenagers, especially for teenagers who had broken up. But he knew that she still cared for him and thought about him, yet she thwarted all of his attempts at trying to reconnect with her then.

Some of what was written makes him smile, possibly having remembered that day or finding it endearing to now learn about. Other letters are far more sobering. Once he reaches the end of that section, he turns to her to listen to the explanation she gives. Leaning in close, he presses his lips at the corner of her mouth. "I'm just. I'm just happy that you felt that you could share all of this with me." He looks back at some of the letters he'd already written, "Some of these," there's a slow shake of his head, "I don't think some women would want anyone to read in a million years."

Yes, that was so much wasted time and wasted opportunities. They missed out on so much by being apart and they both handled that separation in their own ways. But this was proof that she cared for him, maybe even loved him during one of the loneliest periods of his life, though hardly anyone around him realized that fact.

What comes after the intermission is mostly a welcome sight. It was the both of them together ever since they were reunited with one another. Even these memories came with their ups and downs. This past year was when the dangers in Gray Harbor truly amped up for the both of them and some of these images remind him of those times. However it's these final, more intimate images that has now caught his attention. These were visions of Lilith in some of her most sensual poses, professionally captured. "These are gorgeous." He just has to comment, looking from picture to picture and admiring not just the artistry, but especially the subject being displayed in all sorts of sexy poses. "When did you--" He starts, but she fills him in on the details regarding that.

It was hard to take his eyes off of these posed photographs, but here he had the real thing with him right now. At the very end, that's when he notices the post-it and what was written upon it. Just seeing those words there is rather chilling, though as usual, he does what he can to conceal the fact that he's practically shaken by this foreshadowing. When she's distracted by what she'd written, she might miss the shift on the bed. Byron was gently positioning himself behind her, drawing her forward as of to sit partially in front of him, just so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her close from behind. She can feel his heated breath at her neck and feel how he rocks her in his embrace.

"This was simply brilliant. I could never cobble together something like this. Which is why, I usually buy all of my gifts. I don't have the creative knack or the talent to..." His words come off softly behind her head, his gaze reading the words on that final page, on that pink post-it once more. Leaning forward, he rests his chin on her shoulder, she can feel the bristle of his beard brush against her cheek and chin. "I don't think I could ever convey the way that I love you the way that you do." He should probably get undressed, take a shower and who knows what for the rest of the evening, but for now, this felt nice.

Of course, it made him feel like a jerk, the way that he madly obsessed over her for jilting him. Among other things, but he was genuinely touched by this gesture with such a priceless gift. "And all I got you were some fancy sunglasses, a watch and, from what I'm told, some sexy perfume." He could hold her in this way for the whole night, simply reflecting on everything he was reminded of today.

"I know how much you love me. I don't need words and pictures. You're a man of action. You show me."

Lilith swallows down after that quiet declaration she can feel to her bones. At that moment, she's close to feeling it all, almost every single emotion she's been holding back nearly bubbles up at once, jolting her into tense body response and a few quick blinks. But Byron is shifting in position on the bed to be sturdy weight and solid man behind her, wrapping his arms around her skin and the silk of her night garment, she can feel his breath tickling through her strands of hair. He's complimenting the gift, soothing her worries about making it so damned raw and personal, praising her with his approval. Her own arms come up to hug at his, and her head tilts back with slightly angled turn to nuzzle while he's resting at her shoulder, lashes dropping with her breath picking up.

The emotions that were dangerously bubbling up are shot through with one dominating feeling. Want. The two of them have been plenty affectionate, but careful, reined in, not knowing what might get set off in the middle of the minefield that came from their last Dream together. She misses him even though he's been here all along, which is odd, but it's a bodily craving for him. It makes her feel strangely shy for a moment, she has to work up the nerve to guide one of his hands down her silk-clad body, ribcage to hip. Her skin is hot, and the subtle rocking of their bodies starts to feel like a dance to melt into as he leads.

"Byron. Can we go to London for a few days while Isabella is in the UK?"

Byron could get up and retrieve the hidden gifts from his closet safe, but that would ruin the mood and break the moment. Those material presents won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Unless those shadow goblins return or who knows what else that lurks just on the other side of the Veil to spoil the good that they have together right now.

Though he's been incredibly attentive and affectionate towards Lilith over the past few days, despite how accepting she was of his generosity and love, Byron could tell that she was guarded somehow and distant. This is why he kept a constant monitor of her thoughts and emotions. He's seen the sticky darkness like tar spreading through the well-oiled machine of her mind. He knew how it reacted to certain things that either he did or that she remembered. While he's not sure how to get rid of that stuff completely and do a full purge of everything holding her back, this darkness, so far, he's been doing all that he could to help pick up some of those shattered pieces, the aftermath of that one particular Dream.

Still dressed in his dress shirt and slacks, Byron doesn't care to remove his tie in full. Rather, he's savoring this moment with the two of them together and for once, he's not sensing Lilith drifting away, the way he sometimes felt due to her closing up for whatever reason. There's no resistance when his hand is guided over that sheer fabric, brushing against warm flesh before she allows him to caress at her hip all while retaining that gentle rocking movement.

He'd seen her standing in full glory when rising out of the tub and then again to be teased by her form beneath this thin sheer fabric of her nightie. It's only natural for him to go explore her body with touch, the hand at her hip dragging back up her ribcage to feel her soft bosom through the sheer fabric. There was always some kind of allure to it when while she might not be entirely in the nude, he can still feel her underneath the modesty of clothing. He doesn't do this aggressively, his is a subtle motion, appreciating her feminine form while still being comforting all the same.

Then she asks about a trip to the UK and this is something that makes him blink. If he didn't have Lilith so comfortably in his arms right now, he might check his watch or even pull out his phone to view his calendar. He knows that some important business will be going down shortly and for a moment he's going through his own schedule in his mind. "We could try. Did she tell you when she'd be heading out? I know that she was going to be gone for a while, I think."

Lilith murmurs a date roughly two or three weeks away, which is short notice for an overseas trip, but she clarifies, "We would visit while she's there, go and stay a few days, not the long haul." Her body continues to move with the subtle motion while pulled in against Byron, her hand curling fingertips in drag and tickle at the backs of his fingers and knuckles with caresses of her own. Her words stop to breathe out soft sigh in pause, but it's not one of the heavy and weighted, depressed sighs that have been creeping up on her. It's comfort and pleasure response, soft and fluttering air unwittingly breathed over her lips for him to hear. It's clear, suddenly, she's not guiding touch with care and caution, she's encouraging, praising his hand in tiny, affectionate ways.

"I was torn about asking..." she resumes speaking again after the sigh, eyes opening as her head pulls up and turns aside to look at him seriously, "If we can't, then we can't. It's alright." There's a pause that comes with a kiss at Byron's cheek to murmur there before drawback to look at him again, quietly considering one thing or another the longer her eyes stay on his in close quarters, "But maybe we need a little far away to get our footing back."

Lilith confessed to imagery of Byron as he was in the Dream haunting her, she told him about the fear inside her. Even distant, she still felt like she loved him, but with her so subdued or careful, everything felt too fragile or a little hollow, perhaps. He could sense her mind, he knew why she was like this, but that doesn't mean it was easy or pleasant to put up with, especially with his own trauma and worry. It makes Lilith feel a pang, she's more present right now, thought processes slowly aligning to something more natural and rational. It comes with realizations that feel overdue, her lashes bat a few times because it's finally hit her in a way it should have hit her days ago.

Byron was struggling to cope and process too, he's been doing it without her, juggling the caretaker role with work, she was compounding the problem. She knows she needs to fight harder, she's starting to take things in now, but she's afraid of what happens when everything she feels needs to come out.

All the want is starting to burn too. He can feel it creeping on her like an energy or spark of flame to slowly simmer and smolder, fed by his nearness. Lilith starts to say something suddenly, she takes in the breath, her lips part to speak, there's a dead air pause, then a whisper.

"Do you trust me?"

Byron actually had a good idea on when Isabella would be leaving, but he asked for confirmation from Lilith as well as to buy him some time to think on what he might be doing at that time. With the casino deal being finalized soon, then all the work that will soon follow once the deal is sealed, he has a feeling that this trip will land somewhere within that chaos. The quiet contemplation that she may sense from him is rather telling of where his mind is at now. Otherwise, he would've quickly stated that it would be no problem, but then again, Byron was always a very busy man.

He could come out and say that there was no time for a London trip. And really, it's the first thing that comes to mind now that he has the timeframe clear. Then Lilith brings up the why she'd asked, when she was hesitant to bring it up as well. That's something he can't say no to, but it does bring up some concerns. "Are you trying to erase everything that happened on this trip?" She is well aware that Byron practically forgot about the things that haunt Gray Harbor when he left for L.A. It could very well happen again. Then again, it's not that he'd never made trips around the world after his return in 2016, but that darkness was hardly as prevalent then, to him, as it was now. This past year brought out the bad, something which had never bothered him much in the past. Ever.

Quietly, accepting the kiss, he even leans in to her when he notices what she had planned, he considers this even more. "The return home is sometimes difficult, when you remember what you can do." He's talking more about his experiences. "I've only noticed it for longer absences, like when I returned from college and had little control over what emotions I drew from those around me. The memories, mostly bad, on random objects. It happens sometimes when I'm away for business. Usually longer trips. Maybe it won't matter this time around." Or maybe this is exactly what she wanting, but it would be /he/ who forgets what he'd done to her.

The gentle grope of his hand stops and he once more wraps her up in his full embrace, holding her tightly against him. The question asked makes him blink and whatever he was thinking about schedules or forgetting that he even has powers as well as the strangeness of Gray Harbor is placed to the side after this new inquiry.

Did he trust her?

The visions that They had fed him in that Dream are still clear in his mind. Nothing was forgotten then. And with that recent phone call between himself and de la Vega, he realizes that it still affects him, bringing out that anger and jealousy. Yet, he's not going to tell her that.

"Of course, I trust you."

"No. No, I'm not trying to erase, or even forget..." Lilith says quietly with a soft rush of air over her lips, but she waits until long after Byron is finished speaking. She contemplates his answer on trust and the questions raised, eyes going thick with the distraction of how rampantly she might be weighing what she's about to say. She starts to turn some in the embrace, better regarding him before she punctuates serious explanation with a kiss, "We're wounded. We're vulnerable. It's a weapon in this place. You're right, though. If we're still bleeding when we go, the wound re-opens when we come back."

The woman draws in a breath and tilts her head down some to look at the man's arms wrapped around her, still contemplative, and when she looks back up, he can see she has more to say. Her eyes have changed after the moment of thick pause and thought, they're intense in a way they haven't been since before the Dream. It's intimate again, the way she's looking at him with reverent affection and desire, despite the tremble of her fingertips when they come up to stroke his jaw.

"I'm dangerous like this. I can feel it. I need to let things in. I need to let things out. I can't be afraid anymore."

Lilith's fingers continue in pathing, along Byron's bearded chin from downward caressing sweep at his jawline. They linger, then drop along the side of his neck, she's touching him with barely constrained desire, he feels the want start to melt her body with more weighted press and shift in his hold. After coming in for a brush of kiss, she makes a proposal there at his lips.

"Feel it with me. Break with me. It won't control us. We'll fight through."

"I wouldn't be opposed if that were the reason." Byron easily says to her answer. To not trying to erase or forget. "But I know your stance on memory wipes and how it could change someone. Imagine moving far away from here and then forgetting everything that happened in Gray Harbor. The thing with that is, it's not a permanent loss. I remembered everything when I returned. It felt like I was run over by a semi-truck of weird... then things got more terrifying as time went on." He then starts his next sentence in the same vein as one he'd just said, "Now imagine if we just never returned. If are minds were wiped of everything Gray Harbor, does that change who we are? Was I different person in L.A. because I wasn't burdened by that knowledge?"

It's a question that he meant to ask before in regards to Gohl's funeral. He'd forgotten things. Was the man in L.A. different because of that?

His hold on her loosens when Byron feels her move and turn to face him, hearing out what more she has to say as he reaches out to take her i his arms again. In his mind, they would always be wounded, which in turn would leave them vulnerable, but that's why he wears this mask. To hide his vulnerability. Remaining quiet, thinking on her words as well as studying her features, his own dark eyes looking deeply into her bright ones, Byron catches this mood that she's projecting, one that matches his own in a way. It's been a while since they'd allowed themselves time for intimacy, to quench their burning desires. She was no longer this shell that he felt he couldn't truly reach. It's as if Lilith had been reawoken.

Byron's dark eyes never leave hers, though they shift, casually observing the way her hand moves when brushes fingertips along his chin and the lines of his jaw. There's a flicker within his depths, leaning in to her kiss once he senses this move that she makes, returning it with a fire of impatience all his own. Strong hands roam over her body, moving from her shoulder down to her hips to cup at her rear, pulling her in closer towards him. He squeezes at the curves of her flesh beneath the nightie, his own lips murmuring against her mouth, "They don't have a chance against us."

Lilith is attentive, intense and listening and touching Byron a moment before the kiss ignites in full with mesh of their lips, the sealing mouths serving as solid punctuation to his assured words. There's no care and caution in her return kiss, it's hot and heavy with shudder of breath, close to violent with passion right off of the bat, especially as she feels her body being shifted and pulled by the firm grip at her backside. She's tempted, so tempted to let go of everything she's controlling and holding at bay, to let loose like a tidal wave, but through sheer force of will, she controls the tumult inside that surges, body downright shivering and straining with the effort it takes.

Her body is also rolling with meld and press into Byron's body while trembling, displaying want with sudden dip of spine that heavily nudges her backside into his strong hold as she's moved. It might not even take much exerted effort at all to feel her coming back to him, life sparked and flaring with that kiss and grip serving as a trigger shot. Once that's free, though, all the other things start to fight for release, numerous emotions demand to be set free, pushing against her protective mental defenses and denials made by fear. It makes her gasp in the kiss with overwhelm, but she doesn't stop, she makes a point of drowning in sensation and pleasure, finding a strong and heady anchor in the powerful chemistry that exists between them.

One of Liith's hands moves up Byron's back with grip and shirt-snagging drag with fingers curled, finding grip purchase at the nape of the man's neck possessively. It's timed to match her next movement, she guides his kisses onto her marked throat with a backwards tilt of her head, so wrapped up it's hard to tell if she's moving him there unwittingly or on purpose. But there's an air of determination about it, her breath is hard and fast, hair spilling in dark tumble with the motion to bare the thin, delicate flesh of her still-marred neck. She wants him to kiss the leavings of tender and faded bruising, she wants them to confront it together, she's giving him her throat for taking, making herself vulnerable and empowering him.

It's a potential trauma trigger. Lilith gets flash imagery of being strangled after making her throat vulnerable, but she grits her teeth with fight, she focuses on what's real to feel, even presses in place there where she holds at the back of his neck to encourage it.

Then again, she might not get much of what she's pushing with fight and desire if Byron is set off by the very idea of kissing the 'death marks' he made at her throat.

Finally, his tie is completely undone with Byron pulling it from his collar to let slip onto the bed somewhere. With one hand still keeping this hold, this connection on Lilith's ass, the other starts to unbutton down the rest of his shirt, all while maintaining that passionate hunger of kisses. He felt like he was being teased earlier, in the tub, those professionally posed pictures. Even now with the thin sheer nightie which does very little to obscure some of her most alluring parts from view. There, the shirt hang open exposing his torso, his skin hot with desire.

Now that both hands are free, Byron works to reposition Lilith again, this time pulling her forward so that her head is on level with the pillows all while easing her down, back against the bed. It's at that point when she brandishes the discolored flesh at her neck, a clear reminder of the brutality that he'd done to her. Byron is hovering over her now, his heart pounding in his chest as he confronted by the ugliness of his action. If there is hesitation coming from him, it's terribly brief. She can think of it as a mixture of his lust and guilt that drives him forward to bury his face against her throat, to drag and suckle at the still tender bruising. Maybe he was just too caught up in this moment to allow his guilty conscience to bother him. It does't trigger him in a way to make him stop, in fact, it spurs him on.

Yet, despite the love bites and the intensity of that passion which he's currently displaying, he's still somewhat gentle to that area. He isn't trying to hurt her further after all. One of his hands toys with the front of her lingerie, rubbing against her in a back and forth motion where sometimes he's he's feeling her from beneath that thin fabric, while at others, the cloth is dragged upwards to go with his motion, giving him full access of her bared flesh.

Lilith is breathing so fast, so hot and heavy under Byron's lips when they hit her throat, body moved and repositioned, eased back against the pillows by his strong and decisive hands. Her pulse throbs with quick beat, there's life under there, fueled by lust and a darker adrenaline that's spurred by another flash of the man hovered over her with rage so powerful and intimate... desire gets all tangled with a throb of fear. It's oddly thrilling to her in a way she doesn't understand, she wants to rip away walls and barriers and submit to his hands on her body, his mouth on her flesh triggering echoes of the pain and helplessness she felt as he stole her breath.

He's stealing her breath now too, just differently, his power over her despite the memories is thrilling. There's soft and faint reverb of moan escaping her that he can feel. When she's shot through with more imagery, she remembers blood and the adrenaline of the fight, she tangles what she feels again, wants pleasure and pain between them. She's latched to the magnetic draw of Byron, centered by his hands when she's overwhelmed by the collision of what was and what is.

When Lilith flares with lash of power, it's precision controlled flashes of ripping violence, she owns and catches the overflow response. Without warning, fabric tears at the front seams of Byron's pants, his zipper and fly pop with break, she's reaching up with her hands to try and push his shirt off the rest of the way when it happens. Her hips undulate to roll her body as a whole under his hands, the pale slip of garment starts to split next, pinpoint violence to slow motion center slash the whole silk piece into fall away from her skin.

The pursuit of sexual passion is one of the few areas in which Byron's constantly calculating mind tends to drop its guard to a degree. He'll often refrain from partaking in too much alcohol or doing drugs due to the same fact as to why he's built up such a strong mental barricade. If he lets his guard down, then he opens himself up to be taken advantage of whether by more mundane manipulation or by those who share the same Talent that he does.

It's not that he lets himself go completely when in the throes of this passion with the various women he'd been with and if things took a turn for the dangerous, no matter how deep they may have been in their carnal lust, he'd like to think that he had a mind to get himself out of that situation. Even if meant taking the girl out. Though usually, he might get a sense about a woman and whether he should be concerned about her.

In Lilith's case, where he knows the carnage and destruction which she can do, Byron is often confident in himself and in his relationship with her that he never seems to overly worry that she'd turn against him... despite their confrontation at the Hanging Bridge and then again in the Valentine's Day Dream. It allows him to give into his urges and desires, almost letting himself go, in a sense. But this is Byron and at the first sign of trouble, he may be quick to react to ensure that he gets out of it.

Then it comes, that first sign of trouble. Despite it being rather helpful, well, aside from his pants now needing repair, he can feel the restraint lifted off of him once the seams tear and the zipper and button just give up on life. At first, he thought it could've been Lilith, but she's working on his shirt, practically peeling it off of him, something which he tries to help with when he shifts his body with a roll of a shoulder to free one of his arms. So while he may be distracted by his own libido and his need to have this woman who he'd denied himself until she made her recovery was a powerful urge, he's quick to sense that something is amiss. First with his suit pants and then her sheer top, the one that he'd been fondling.

"Shhh." He says, trying to keep her calm. Already he's reaching out, not within the confines of his bedroom or the apartment, but for as far as he can, trying to sense all of the minds within that radius, touching on their intentions in the case that they are being targeted. His mostly undressed form remains rigidly in place and he keeps himself leaning over her, propping himself by use of an arm while the other is raised outward in a more cautious defensive position.

It's complex, confusing, dark and twisted, intimate and lustful, the things that Lilith feels in waves and washes. The emotions that generally exist on opposite ends of the spectrum are all put together in a tumble and torrent and it's making her feel a lot of things at once now that she's no longer self-shielding and coming 'awake' to react. The denial is gone, the stubborn refusal to feel and process the violent, horrible flashes of memory and moments, it's gone too. She's opening doors inside with force, and each time tempts the overflow of all the power itching to come out and lash react with more visceral feeling response.

She feels a high, a pride in controlling her powers in this moment, it makes it easier to let go of the flood gates, to turn the ripping violence and need to break into something for them, something painted with lust, not just the need for destruction. It's what makes their clothing shred apart on their bodies, and for a moment, the lamp flickers, as if she's targetting it to blow into pieces next while lost in the moment and writhing with need and pleasure in the middle of overwhelming imagery. She's desperate to get Byron's shirt off, she wants skin on skin, her back arcs up some to hold as the silken fabric displays flesh. The rip sends the silk in slide off, stomach flexed taut with the curves of her breasts tipped and tightened with arousal.

When Byron goes on defensive and cautious edge, though, when he pauses in the hover, caught offguard and wary by the rip of clothing she caused with sheer want and reaction... all her movement and writhe pauses in response to the 'shh' of noise. Her arms fall out at an angle that makes her look submissive and prone, ready to pin, ready to take, and she's still breathing hard and fast despite the sudden inaction. Blinking wild eyes a few times, she looks at the man hovering above and suddenly starts to spill with dark confessional whisper at him.

"I won't hurt you. But if you want to hurt and bleed some of it away..." It almost sounds like an offer from Lilith while she's breathless and quietly making assurance, "We're controlling right now, we're choosing to confront it, we'll make the pain ours, not theirs." Her jaw trembles with teeth gently knocking on edge while she looks up at Byron's dark eyes with an intensity, "I see and feel and remember it all. I'm mad. I'm afraid. But you..."

Lilith's hand reaches for one of Byron's as it's upheld in defensive halting gesture, slowly bidding it down toward her throat as her head tips back, guiding a stroke, inviting his fingers to fan out and claim her anew, life and lust and passion, not death, "I love you so madly, it's all mixed up, what I feel and see. Pride in your fight and survival, the awe of power in your fury, I'm turned on by the helplessness to your hands despite the pain. Death came when our love exploded in the reactor, too big and too much."

It's fucked up. She knows it. But she has a sense of ego and pride and intense love and lust over the very idea that he simply loved her too much, that intimacy that's boundless between them accounting for the rage in the Dream while he was fed betrayal. She justifies, she does it because it's Byron, she wants him so badly, wants his hand back at her throat to bring her back to full life with a reminder of the violence, a test of trusts.

From his mental scan, Byron knows that there's no one else in the apartment besides Lilith and himself. And Smog. He knows that one of the couples downstairs is arguing with one another. Or if they aren't arguing, they want to. He got a good sense of the financial woes of another of his tenants. What he didn't pick up was dangerous presence-- No, that's not true. What he didn't pick up was a dangerous presence trying to kill them. Or one simply observing them for whatever perverted reasons. What he got, however, was Lilith's tempestuous emotions, feeling these intense dark desires. Incredibly powerful and dangerously needy.

Lilith confirms what he realizes. It wasn't some outside intruder messing with them. It was her. Turning to face her, his gaze lowered to stare deeply into her eyes, she can see the look of wariness and concern on his features, something which slowly begins to fade away when coming to this understanding of what just happened. He even smiles a touch to play it off lightly, "I know that you won't hurt me. I-- Sorry, after everything we went through. Hell, after everything people living in this town go through, sometimes I just can't help but be a little paranoid when some mysterious force tears up my clothes."

That's when he feels her dragging his hand forward to once more be placed at the neck which he'd been generous to with his heated kisses. See, Byron's usually the type to avoid any sort of pain or injury if he can help it. His body, his looks are far too important to him to want to actually feel any sort of hurt. Then there's his background. The masochist is someone he could never understand. And yet in some ways, he may be considered a masochist. He still lives in Gray Harbor for one.

Then she brings up her Death. Or he'll assume so. But was there really love there? Byron wanted to kill her. And he ended up doing just that. There was anger, bitterness. Pity, in the end. Pity that it had to come down to this. But was there love? Maybe that's where the pity came from. Her death would mean that he'd lost something as well.

On reflex, perhaps, she can feel the grip of his hand tightening around her throat, feeling her every breath and the way that her pulse beat rapidly beneath his touch. He has to remind himself that She was the 'infiltrator'. With no need to worry further on it, despite the hint of embarrassment and confusion on his part, he works to shed, leaving his torso completely bared. There was a little awkwardness now. In the beginning, he was acting on his own animal lust without any other thought. Now, however, he knows that this is what Lilith wants. And in a way it's strange for her to ask for it. This odd request of pleasure and pain, or so he perceives it to be. Like I said, he never understood the masochist mindset. But this is what she wants. So the hand at her neck squeezes tighter, mirroring the way he'd done so when he killed her in the Dream; his coal black eyes staring down at her with almost the same angry intensity, though the anger is gone, but he captures the look perfectly-- the flaring of his nostrils, the set of his jaw when his lips tighten into a sullen frown.

His back arches as his body draws forward that his head hovers over hers, but not directly, slightly overshooting her face in this bit of power play positioning. The other hand goes for what's left os his trousers, his knees and thighs shifting on the bedding to free himself of the fabric. This leaves in his boxers. "Is this what you really want?" Even his words come out sounding just as tense and tight as the muscles in his form. Not waiting for a response, he takes her mouth with his, lips parting to taste her and drink her.

It's what Lilith thought she wanted. She wanted to confront things head on, see them all, feel them all at once, let go of the angst that's triggering her power into tumble of reactionary chaos inside. She wanted to re-write the Dream's terrible moment, change the darkness into something that gives instead of taking away. Fighting through the way she feels with Byron's hand at her throat, his expression changing to suit, it's a head-on assault to her memories she feels she needs to face. It's tactical, she's trying to replace one reality with another so it can't hurt her or scare her anymore, she's trying to re-instill trust with force.

But... she's confusing love with fear and power while charged, amped on lust and the bliss of breaking and ruining with her power. Everything is all mixed up and tainted by that dark stain in her mind, it fans out over every emotion bubbling to the surface on release. She thinks she wants it, she thinks they have to fight to win, despite the new resentments, fears, and damages it might cause. She stares up at Byron's dark eyes, roams eyes intently over his changed expression, holds her breath as it's pressured out of her by his hand at her throat.

It's not right. Something about all of it feels not right, still tainted. It's not the rough dominant position triggering her to clarity, they've been plenty rough with each other in moments of lust before, but this is different. Suddenly, it feels like something the Shadows would want, molded learning that relishes and encourages the darkness inside Byron and Lilith. It makes her mad, she can't hold that part in, but she controls it, sends it away, out of the room to rage. They can hear glass shatter, the panes in the door to the balcony blow out with rattle of the frame, cold air starts to slowly seep in and chill their skin.

Right after it happens, she can see clearly, she can feel clearly, and Lilith pauses the rampant kiss between herself and Byron. Something has visibly and tangibly shifted in her thoughts, her intent, something cracked free when she lashed out with destruction. The woman whispers at him before kissing again, less hasty attack of lust, relish of the kiss and man himself. He feels her soften beneath his hands, the tension riding her body while she's pinned by the throat and writhing with lust ebbs away.

"No. I just want you. Love me."

It's hard to say how he knows, but then, with his propensity for picking up emotions, knowing Lilith through her very motion and tones of voice...

When she's done fighting the pain, the memories, the urges and darkness left inside her, he feels her come back to him completely. He has all of Lilith back, not some fractured semblance weighed down and fighting to break free.

Byron has nothing against roleplay. He's done it before with some girl in L.A. So doing a powerplay bedroom scene with some sort of bondage kink is not foreign to him. It was play, after all, no matter how real that some women might want it to feel. There was pleasure in fear or something like that. He could make this as realistic as possible if she really wanted. Except for the pain. Though, in truth, what he's doing right now, this forced kiss with him practically strangling her was something he'd imagined before. A long time ago. One of his fantasies when he was still angry with her for deserting him. How this is being played out right now is as if he were living out that fantasy. This isn't the first time too. The Dream, also, played into those dark desires very well. It's nothing that he's really ashamed of, of course. But it's also not something that he'd ever reveal.

While Lilith is having second thoughts on spurring him into action in this manner, practically reliving that moment in their Dream, but different-- Though, in all honesty, if his mind wasn't warped by images of her betrayal right then and there and rather, let him relive his anger towards her from his own memories, things could've ended just like this. It's hard to say whether he would've killed her in the end, but his need for revenge, there's a good possibility. So he's here, basically reenacting this revenge fantasy on her. She wanted to hurt though? Right? To shoulder through the trauma?

He doesn't stop, of course, no matter what her body language might tell him. His powers aren't always on, unlike some others who have a difficult time shutting theirs off, so he doesn't pick up the mixed emotions and confusion in her as he smashes his mouth down on hers hard, before the hand at her throat finally loosens to drift down lower, only so that the bruised section can be replaced by his lips once more but this time in passing. Rather than linger there, his mouth drags lower to her collarbone then even lower than that. She can feel his scruff poke at her like tiny needles to go with the soft bite of her skin.

The sudden shatter of glass makes him tense once more. What the hell was that? Lilith can feel his momentum stopping and automatically, he does another read of the vicinity. There's no hush sound coming from him, just this focused silence. Nothing out of the ordinary except, well, except for Lilith. His ear rests close to her heart now, when he hears her asking for him to just Love her. Seems like roleplay is over! His intensity relaxes, perhaps sensing this much needed release in her and the fact that she was now free. If anything, she can feel the heat of his breath once a sigh is released, his cheek resting against her breasts with the tension of the past several days finally leaving him as well.

So that's it. He thought to himself.

Nuzzling against her once more, picking back up some of that fire, despite his mind going to what he'll assume are some broken windows to go with his torn pants, he settles into something more comforting, his kisses soft against flesh. "Welcome back, beautiful."

A part of Lilith wants to spill and explain because she's so very Lilith again, part of her wants to apologize for being too much right now, for being worrisome and a burden for days. Part of her wants to drown in him, to be mindless with lust, to block it all out in the name of pure pleasure. But she's mindful too. She wants Byron, she wants to be present and feel everything he makes her feel. She wants right now, the love and security that makes her warm behind all the burning heat between them. The way she wants his pleasure changes, she wants it to soak in kiss by kiss, touch by touch, breath by breath, not grasp for it or hide away in the distraction.

"... you're my rock." Those words she told him so long ago still ring true. Despite all that fight inside her, the violence, the goading for him to confront their trauma with force and violence through passion, it's his steadiness that anchors her and eventually she can feel that enough to slow down. Physically, her body slows down too as Byron's position changes, goosebumps rising fast in wash over her bared, heated skin as a breeze blows in from the main area of the Penthouse, outside night air pushing cold and crisp through the broken glass in the terrace doors. Her hand comes to rake fingertips in caress through his hair, down along the edge of one of his ears as he rests kissing at her chest.

Then she starts to shift again, easing his lips on her skin to her breast with slow motion arching of back, hands running along his arms, whispering and encouraging his mouth to drink her in bit by bit, "Kiss me all over. Kiss me til I can't breathe. Kiss me til I can't speak. Every inch of me is yours. Stake your claim."

As intensely passionate as he can get when in the heat of the moment, Byron can often adapt well enough to this change of pace to go with her new desires. So when this hot power struggle and dominance play is no longer on the table, while it can get frustrating at times, he'll play along with wherever her whims lead. Primarily, because he felt something change in her and maybe wrecking the glass door in the living room helped with that. While the use of his powers may not be constant when reading people, a woman's body language during sex is something that he's learned enough to read. It will often tell him when he's close to crossing a line and when 'no' really means no.

The shattering of the French doors not only brings in a cold wintry breeze, but it also brings in the cat who was alarmed by the chaos outside, to make a quick dart into the room to hide as cats do.

In Byron's mind, this all means that she's no longer going to concern herself about the fact that he actually tried to kill her once (well twice) and succeeded the second time. As long as that's far from her mind, his own dark secrets remain safe and that brings him some relief. A faint smile on his lips at the sound of her voice, he murmurs something incoherently against her chilling skin. His own passion is stirred to raise his own natural body heat and the biting chill of the sudden breeze is actually exciting, despite the time and effort and possibly money it will take to clean up and repair that door. Yes, his mind is constantly planning on what he needs to do next.

There's a rumbling in his throat, almost like a purrr when she demands... no requests for him to drown her in kisses. That is definitely something that she needn't ask him twice about. With strong hands placed over her hips, he drags his mouth hungrily over her sensual body, tasting every inch of her with an ever growing fervor.