October 1, 2012 by Lyn
Directly after the last Outtake: Brenna and Noam.
“You have to know who I am before you can decide if you want to be in my bed with me.”
“Who you are?”
That was either very promising or very terrifying. Possibly both. Noam followed Brenna’s tug towards the bed. If she would just tell him what to do, he could do it. But she was going to make him decide.
“You have to know.” Her throat bobbed, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. “The Mask is just a cover for what I really look like, you know that.”
He nodded. He could do that much without provoking a reaction, usually.
“Say something!” Not today, it seemed. Her hands were pressing little circles into his.
It was his turn to swallow and think fast, the pressure of the order urging him to open his mouth. “Something. Ah,” he went on hurriedly, before she could get upset. More upset. “I know you have a Change under your Mask. Everyone here does, eventually. But that’s what you look like, Bren, not who you are.” He ducked his head until his antennae brushed against her hair. Usually, that got a smile out of her. “Like I’m not a butterfly, I just play one on TV.”
“It’s easy for you. You have a pretty Change.”
“Being pretty isn’t always that easy for boys.” He squeezed back, hoping he was being reassuring. “Show me, Brenna? Please?”
“Stay there.” She released his hands and tried to step back further, but the bed blocked her way. “Move back a little bit.”
The conflicting orders gave him the beginning of a headache before he even started moving. He backed up a step, shuffling his feet.
The pressure of the orders distracted him; when he looked up again, she had dropped her Mask. The gasp snuck out before he could stop it.
She flinched back. Shit, shit… Noam grabbed for her, keeping his feet where they were. The pressure of the orders was going to split his head open, but he could reach her. “Bren, Brenna…” He rushed the words, hurrying before she closed up entirely. “Brenna, you’re _beautiful._”
“You have to say that.” She peered at him through white-and-green hair, with eyes like the sea.
“You’ve never ordered me anything like that.” He squeezed her hands, and, very gently, tugged on her arms. Would she come to him? One step. It would have to do. “Brenna, I don’t know who lied to you, but you’re lovely.” He could reach her hair, and did so, stroking the smooth white, like silk, and the curly green streaks, like dry seaweed. “It’s a beautiful Change.”
“Even…” She opened her mouth, wider than a mouth ought to open, showing him a mouth full of very sharp teeth.
“Even those.” He urged her another couple inches closer and leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t think about what those teeth could do to flesh. He didn’t think about the way her fingers and toes ended in claws. She wasn’t going to hurt him. And she was a gorgeous predator.
Maybe that would help, bur probably not. So he settled for stroking the skin around her gills. “Even these. Can you breathe underwater?”
She nodded. Her lips were pressed tightly together; already blue, they were turning almost white.
“I’d love to see you swim.” Feeling really daring, and like he had to be really daring or she’d run away, he reached for the top button of her shirt. “But you wanted something tonight…?”
She made a little squeaking noise through closed lips. He kept unbuttoning her shirt.
“You’re in charge here,” he reminded her. “You can tell me to stop. You can make me do whatever you want.”
That got her to open her mouth. “But you don’t like that.”
He settled for the closest to truth she would believe. “But I like you. And that makes it better.”
This outtake was written in response to Rix’s donation and request for “more Brenna.”
For every $5US donated, I will write 300 words on the character or situation of your choice. In addition, every donation will bring you to a small snippet of story – a new snippet every Wednesday!