Licking Old Wounds [Lilith]

[Drew Schultz]

The noise from outside was an irritation, keeping him from sleep. At least, he would have preferred if it was the noise that was keeping him awake, but he'd done a thorough enough job with sound-proofing his apartment that the children would have needed to lay on a car horn to get through both the walls and the ear-plugs he wore to bed. Instead, he lay in bed in his dingy apartment, staring at the white crumble of the ceiling, his arms open and flopped on either side of him. His brown eyes blinked sluggishly as he picked out patterns in the random mess of white, trying not to think. Wearing only his boxers and a white t-shirt, he felt chilly in the shade, but he still didn't move to make himself more comfortable. He felt too weary, deep in his bones. How long had it been since he'd slept?

When he closed his eyes, there was no knowing what he would see. Some nights, it was a burning man amidst an ocean of brown soil and scraggly trees, his eyes wide with shock and his mouth flung wide open in a soundless scream that went unheard among the roar of the flames. Other nights, it was a wolf shaped like a man, his black claws drawing rivers of red-tinted pain across his flank like some gruesome marker, while he was holding its snapping jaws an inch from his face, his fingers already sore and bleeding. Still harder were the nights when he dreamed that he was strapped to a table, and white masks with scalpels for fingers were touching his bare skin, asking if it hurt, seeming disappointed when he writhed and screamed a yes. Drew forced his eyes open, dispelling the visions in favor of a white ceiling.

Why had he ever dared to think that anyone would be able to see past the monster that he was? Lilith deserved a whole person, not this shattered husk of a man who was good at only one thing, and that was hurting people. His eyes stung, and he blinked away the dryness that made them ache.

If his body would have let him, he probably would have lay there in bed all day. After all, he didn't have work until around midnight, and he didn't often go out during the day anyway. But the tension of hunger had been twisting his belly for the past hour, and he'd been ignoring it for too long already. Sitting up and rolling his neck to crack it, he pulled his jeans on and buckled the belt slowly, deliberately. He shook his head as the room tilted alarmingly, his hand flying to the wall to brace himself. He'd sat up too quickly, it seemed, but the room was leveling itself out.

It didn't take him long to locate his boots in the sparse apartment, and he soon found himself down on the sidewalk, heading toward the hot-dog vendor on the corner. The smell of the meat made his stomach gurgle eagerly, and he ordered himself three, discarding the buns as soon as he came upon a trashcan. With the three hot-dogs remaining in the small paper-board container, he leaned against the brick wall and pinched one between his fingers before wolfing it down. Leaning his head back against the wall, he murmured to himself.

"Oh, thank god," he groaned in relief at the feeling of food on his stomach.

He pulled another steaming strip from the container and lowered it into his mouth, his eyes still closed. They opened again as a familiar smell finally filtered through the scent of food. He tensed again immediately, looking around the semi-empty street for her.

[Lilith Prescott]

With a heavy sigh, Lilith pulled her hair up into a messy bun, letting some wild strands hang down her face. She put on a touch of make up and her heels, walking into her dark room. She pulled up the pictures that she was going to deliver to the magazine, paper clipping them together and sticking them in her file folder. She took a glance in the mirror, straightening out her skirt.

All that has been on her mind lately has been work. She had been ignoring the hurt from what had happened with Drew. She hadn't meant for him to leave...She couldn't have helped the shock she felt. She grabbed her purse, making sure to lock the door behind her. 

Once hitting the street, Lilith took a deep breath. She was lucky she lived inside the city, and didn't have to go far for things. It saved her gas money and everything else. In all honesty, it was a nice day, but Lilith really didn't find herself caring. She had tried to go on a date last night, only to find her mind drift other places and she ended up making an excuse and leaving in the middle of it. Lilith lifted her head up, she had to move forward. She hadn't seen Drew nor heard from him for a time and if that was how it was...Lilith had no idea how to find him or anything like that. So she had to keep going forward.

Walking down the street, the smell of vendor food hit her and she let a small smile cross her face. She was hungry and had to make a note to pick something up on her way home. She blinked as she turned the corner, a familiar figure filling her vision.

No way...

Lilith blinked, watching Drew look up and around. She froze for a second. Then she saw him quickly turn and start walking away from her. Oh no you don't! Lilith did a little trot in her heels after Drew. "Drew you hold on one minute! I have to talk to you! Stop! Don't run from me! Or walk away fast...whatever!" Lilith grabbed his arm, catching up to him. She couldn't stop him if she threw all her weight on him, but she stopped in front of him, hoping it would make him stop walking away from her. "Drew, don't go please. We have to talk!" Lilith grabbed his hand, dropped her photos without a second thought. She needed to tell him what she thought and he was going to listen, even if she had to kill herself making him listen!

[Drew Schultz]

He froze for only a half second before he turned and began walking away, but it was too late, apparently. She had seen him, and now she was following him for some reason. He lifted his eyebrow at her in utter confusion as she stepped into his path, and he lurched to a halt, trying not to step on her. With her track record with clumsiness, he would probably break her if he accidentally stepped too close to her foot. His eyes searched her face for a moment, trying to figure out what she wanted, but it took him a moment to realize that her hand was on his arm, and he looked down at it with furrowed eyebrows. Why was she touching him? He had been sure that she had finally figured out that he wasn't someone she needed to be involved with, and yet she was practically running him down in the street?

"What are you doing here?" he asked before he could stop himself, looking back up at her. "How did you even find me?"

Shifting to subtly pull his arm away from her, he looked down at the single hot-dog that he had left, wishing that his appetite hadn't just vanished under the writhing mass of nerves. He tossed the last dog and the paper container in a nearby trash can, the smell of it now making his insides churn. Did she want to rail at him for what had happened? He could understand it, even if it didn't lessen his nervousness. Besides, she needed not to be seen with him in public, as he had told her more than once. At the thought, he looked up and glanced around, ensuring that no one was watching them. Unless the hot-dog vendor was with them, she was probably safe.

Looking down at her again, his nose twitched. He could vaguely smell another stale scent on her hair, some cologne that he didn't recognized. He was surprised at the rage of jealousy that reared in his chest at the thought, and he snorted to rid his nose of the scent, looking down at the scattered photographs at their feet. Resignation touched his eyes as he knelt down and started picking them up for her. Tapping them gently into a more orderly pile, he handed them to her.

"If we're going to talk, it can't be here," he said, his low voice tired. "Let's head to my apartment."

There seemed little harm in letting her know where it was now, considering that she had apparently been looking for him anyway. Tilting his head in indication of its direction, he put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and began to walk, a mild slouch making him look incurably like a teenager caught in wrongdoing, whatever his size.

[Lilith Prescott]

"How did I find you?! I wanted to see you again, but this was an accident. I turned the corner and there you were..." Lilith's voice kind of died down at the end, listening to him tell her to come to his apartment, so they could talk. This was what she wanted right? She nodded, following him to his apartment. She watching him walk, walking partly behind, partly beside him. He had slouched a bit and she tilted her head a little bit. Did he think she was going to just..yell at him?

Once inside his apartment, she looked around at his sparsely furnished place, holding her arms together in front of her. When the door was closed, she looked down then at Drew. "Drew...I....I didn't want you to leave that night. You just...you left! You left with a sorry and I couldn't stop you from leaving. I mean that was your choice because we all have freedoms but you left. I didn't mean to freeze up, I was just so shocked. Like...I didn't know Drew. I didn't know how hurt you had been in the past. How much pain..." Lilith felt a tear fall as she placed her hand on Drews chest.

Lilith knew she was just rambling and blubbering, she paced away from Drew and back towards him. "What were you thinking though? Why..why did you just leave." She let out a breath, walking up to him and looking up at him. She was infuriated that he was so tall and she could reach him. She looked around, a frown marring her face. She grabbed a chair, dragging it over to him. Not caring if she looked crazy, she kicked off her heels, climbing on top and grabbing Drews face. She wanted to look him in the eyes.

"I didn't want you to leave." Lilith didn't know how much clearer she could be with him.

[Drew Schultz]

He stood with his arms folded in front of himself, subconsciously defensive as he tended to be when expecting someone to be angry at him. What he didn't anticipate was her words. She hadn't wanted him to leave? How... why did...? He could only blink stupidly at her, his brain hazy with half-finished thoughts and utter confusion, complicated by the fact that he'd not slept much in the intervening time. Looking down at her, he rubbed the back of his neck, abruptly embarrassed for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of. He supposed he had seemed a bit childish when he left so suddenly, but he'd been so certain that she was afraid of him... The look of horror on her face had been too obvious for him to mistake it, right?

He was about to voice this thought when he looked down and realized that she was dragging one of his few chairs over to him, and she stood up on it, coming out about his height or an inch or so shorter. She looked into her eyes as she unexpectedly grabbed his face, and it took a good deal of effort not to recoil at the sudden contact. In his experience, most people expected someone with his kind of scars to be violent, or at the very least dangerous. What was it about this contrary woman that made her so determined to stay close to him, regardless of the marks on his skin? Did she have a death wish or something?

An angry retort was on the edge of his lips when he saw the look in her eyes, the borderline anger that she had, and he bit back the words. Was he really going to be angry because one person in the whole world was actually concerned for his well-being. The anger faded from his eyes, and his gaze fell, his hands raising to hold hers as gently as he could. His palms dwarfed hers, and the skin was rough because the only real skills he had included hurting people, but her hands were soft and heartbreakingly frail in comparison. Why was she being so kind to him?

"Lilith," he said her name softly, not looking at her. "I told you the truth. I was raised to be a killer. These marks, ugly as they are, do not come close to the damage I've inflicted on others. I left because I thought you understood what I am."

He looked over to the mirror in the corner, which had a spider-web shaped crack in the upper edge, where he had punched it the night before, after catching a glimpse of his scarred torso in the mirror, and remembered her reaction to them. He didn't know why he still had it, other than the fact that he would have looked strange throwing it in the dumpster outside.

[Lilith Prescott]

Taking a deep breath, Lilith felt her heart flutter at the gentle touch from Drew as he took her hands. She looked at him, shaking her head. "Drew. You aren't a killer. I know you're not. If you were, you wouldn't have saved me on the steeple at the cathedral. You wouldn't have helped me to my car in the cemetery. You wouldn't have been so kind to me. Drew..." Lilith had started out strong, her voice high and practically yelling, until she said his name. His name came out a whisper on her lips.

Why couldn't he see? He was so thick headed! Lilith wanted to just shake him, but she doubted she could even jostle him a little bit, even if she tried. She lifted a hand, moving her fingers through his short hair. It was soft and she gave him a small smile, remember the last time she had her hands in his hair. Why couldn't he understand why she was here?

"Drew, I need you to understand why I'm here. I'm here because I care about you. You aren't a monster or a killer, or whatever you think you are...you are not that to me." Lilith shifted her feet on the chair, felt it wobble, and slipped off of it. Instinctively she grabbed onto Drew, wrapping her arms around his neck as the chair fell, her feet dangling off the floor now. She blushed, sliding down his body, unintentionally, attempting to reach the floor again. She felt the electricity pass between them again and as much as she didn't want to, she let go of him, backing up a step.

Really, Lilith did not want Drew to be uncomfortable. She would have held onto him, but she was slightly self conscious about one thing. She looked at the mirror Drew looked at, walking up and touching the spider web crack. She looked at Drew in the mirror and felt her shoulders relax. "Drew...what do you want?" The words were a whisper as she moved her hand, cutting her finger on the broken pieces of glass. She looked down, sticking her finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding, turning to look at Drew. He was able to walk away, and that was something she was conscious about. Did he want her as much as she wanted him? It wasn't like her to question herself but she needed to know..

Lilith let her hand drop back to her side. "I know what I want. I want to be near you. I want to see you and be with you and just....whatever. I just want to whatever with you." She stepped up to Drews chest, staring up at his face. "If you ask me to leave. I will leave. But I will track you down later and pester you until you see what I see, the good and kind man that I have seen."

[Drew Schultz]

He was taken off-guard by the vehemence of her response, as if she thought that he was being stupid instead of the other way around. His brain was trying to explain away the events, protesting the very idea that he was a good man. No amount of saving her would wash away the blood from his hands, he wanted to say. But he didn't say it. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk sense into himself. It would have been a nice change of pace to believe himself to be the good man that she thought that he was. What harm was there, really, in indulging in the idea, if only for a moment. Then he could feel good about helping her, and helping that starving wolf girl the other week. Did those things make him a good man? They certainly made it more tolerable to be himself, trapped inside of his own head.

Her hand brushed through his hair, and he closed his eyes at the tingle of sensation that raced down his neck. What was it about her touch that calmed him down, and made his thoughts stop racing? He opened his eyes to see a smile playing about her lips, and he wondered if she was remembering their kiss, as he was. The taste of her lips on his, with her lean body pressed against his.

The thought became almost comical as she overbalanced herself and almost fell of the chair, ending up with her arms wrapped around his neck, dangling there. He took a single step back to compensate for the addition of her weight, and she began to slide down toward the ground as he wrapped his arm around her middle. Bending slightly at the middle, he lowered her so that her feet could touch the floor, a gentle smile on his lips. She couldn't help but be clumsy, and as frustrating as it could be, there was something oddly endearing about it. He could only watch her as she walked over to the broken mirror and put her finger on it. Raising his hand to protest, he could have rolled his eyes when he smelled her fresh blood.

Walking over to her, he stood in front of her and took her injured finger in his hand, examining it for broken glass before moving it to his lips. His tongue darted out to clear away the blood, the wolf in him savoring the taste for a fraction of a second before he looked down at her.

"I don't know what I want," he admitted, sighing softly. "It's not safe for you to be here, with them after me, and yet... I don't want you to go. I like it when you're around, and I think about you when you're not."

His cheeks darkened in a blush as he spoke, and he looked down with embarrassment as he stopped talking. It wasn't like him to talk about his feelings, and it felt awkward to try to explain his own head, which made little sense to himself at the best of times.

[Lilith Prescott]

Lilith felt a blush creep up her neck to her cheeks when he licked her finger. She didn't understand why that made her blush but it felt so...intimate. More so than when they were kissing. She did love it when he smiled and it made her heart flutter. And he gave her his answer. It wasn't a commitment or anything, but she could fly on wings when he said he thought about her when she wasn't there, and didn't want her to leave when she was. Lilith took his hand with both of hers, running her finger over his calluses. His hands were rough, and she loved it. She gave his knuckles a kiss, looking up at him.

She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were racing. "Drew, whoever they are. They can't hurt me. They won't hurt me. They don't know where you are, they don't know who I am. And, I don't care about them. They can go jump off a cliff." She ran her hand up his chest, over his shirt. This was what had stopped her last time, his scars.

Her eyebrows pulled together as she moved her hand back down his torso, wrapping both her arms around him, reaching under his shirt. Immediately she felt him tense a little as her fingers moved over his scars. Her heart was racing. She was scared that he might bolt. Lilith kept eye contact with him as her fingers moved their way around his sides and back down to his waist. She was hoping he wouldn't misunderstand her and she figured she would have to say something. "I was just shocked before...I just wasn't expecting all of them. I want to get to know you more, Drew. All of you. Your scars...everything."

Lilith's eyes moved down to stare at her hands, her cheeks glowing. She couldn't believe she had said that, she was a confident person, but she didn't want him to bolt, or in this case, kick her out of his apartment. She wanted him to just understand. She looked up, chastising herself for being so self conscious. Not this time. Lilith took Drew by the arm, dragging him to the bed, she assumed he just went willingly out of shock because she knew she couldn't move him. "Sit." Lilith kept her tone light, a smile playing across her lips as she made Drew sit down. She wasn't scared anymore, she couldn't be.

She touched his face, her fingers tracing his jaw and then the scar on his nose. "I need to see." Lilith spoke quietly, moving her hands up his arms and down his chest, reaching under his shirt. She needed to see and to take it in. She didn't want to be shocked again, she wanted to know, to memorize every part of the man in front of her, from his short dark hair to his long powerful legs. She wanted to know every scar. She was hoping he would let her. Hoping he didn't run again. Just plain hoping now. Here goes nothing...

[Drew Schultz]

His shoulders were taut with nerves as her delicate fingers traced the contours of a scar beneath his shirt, but he forced himself to stay still. She wanted to know his scars? There was hesitation in his eyes as she took hold of his arm and pulled him toward the bedroom, but he followed without complaint. There was no changing what she would see, and if she was determined to see it, why try to put off the inevitable? Sitting on the edge of the bed, he allowed her to pull off his shirt, baring his chest to the air. There was something a little forced about her smile, but he closed his eyes to allow her to explore the flesh as she wanted to.

His torso was thick, bound in hard muscle and wide shoulders, with the only tattoo marking it being the barcode across the back of his neck. From a distance, it would have probably looked impressive, but the dark skin made the pale scars stand out against the warm flesh. The scattered bullet scars, five aside from the grazes on his neck, were circular and puckered, shiny in a way that only scars could be. The claw marks from the werewolves were the dominant feature, some in groupings of two or three, long and ragged, others winding across his chest by themselves. The ugliest scars, however, were the most numerous, even if they weren't quite as obtrusive as the claw marks. The surgical scars from years worth of experiments and exploratory surgeries were always regular in shape, almost geometric in their exactness, but they stretched across nearly every surface of his torso and back, vanishing under his pant line.

Keeping his eyes closed, he focused on her scent instead of what she must be seeing, allowing it to slow his heartbeat. The wolf in him was soothed by her proximity, and by the feeling of her fingers on his skin, even if the scars weren't as sensitive as the rest of him. It was oddly intimate, having his naked torso touched and examined by gentle and caring hands, from someone that he had begun to trust. He released a long, warm breath, his face calm this time, instead of panicked as it had been the last time she'd seen him like this.

"You're awfully quiet," he commented at length, opening one eye to look at her. "If you have questions, ask them."

For all of his secrecy, there was some part of him that could not deny her the answers anymore. She had gone on faith with him this far. It would be cruel not to trust her back, at this point.

[Lilith Prescott]

Taking in a breath, Lilith took in the sight before her. There was Drew, his eyes closed, tensed up, and what she had only gotten a glance of before. The scars that littered his upper torso were ranged in size and in intensity. There were bigger jagged ones, and ones that were straight and precise. She took a step forward, slowly reaching out her hand and tentatively touching the hard muscle of Drews chest. Her fingers ran along a couple scars, a frown forming on her face. What had happened to him?

She stayed silent through her more intimate examination of his scars, her fingers running down his chest. This was like nothing she had ever seen before. She crawled onto the bed behind him, her hands moving over the scars on his back. They looked so perfect. It was a weird way, but the scars that were much neater but much more common on his body were in perfect lines, and that was something that scared her more than the more jagged scars did. They were precise, which meant someone had done it. The people that were after him? She bit her bottom lip, her hand moving up to the only thing that wasn't white with scaring, his black bar code tattoo.

She took in a deep breath, her hands moving to close around his neck. She put her face in the side of his neck, taking slow breaths to calm the overwhelming feeling she felt. She heard him speak, and moved so she could see his face, choosing to sit next to him, crossing her legs on the bed. Questions? Well she had loads. But Lilith hesitated, pulling her hair out of its bun and putting it back into a pony tail, she looked over at him. She had been quiet, it had been a world record for the longest she had been quiet while in the room with another person. She placed her hands together, a flame forming between her two hands before she snuffed it out. She looked back at Drew.

"So...the scars...were from the people who are after you?" She touched his hand, feeling out his calluses and just paying attention to the warmth emanating from his skin. It warmed her pale skin which seemed to have grown colder through the silence that had been between them while she was looking at his scars. "How long was...all this...going on?" Lilith looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She hurt for the man in front of her. The man with scars covering his body. She had no idea how much more of his body was covered with them, but she had to assume it was more because there was no way this was just on his upper torso. She looked back down, continuing to run her fingers up and down his, rubbing her thumb on the palm of his hand. It was a small comfort in what she assumed was going to be a much darker answer than anything she had known.

[Drew Schultz]

"Yes," he answered her, closing his eyes again.

It was easier to talk about it when he didn't have to see the look in her eyes, the silent devastation that he should have been able to feel, if he hadn't been so hardened to it. It hurt him in a strange way, seeing his childhood horror reflected on the face of someone else, someone who should never have to know any of it. But he had decided, hadn't he? He'd decided to tell her, so that she would understand and be safer for it. So that she wouldn't go out in public and light little fires with her mind, and one day end up in a cage from which there was no escape. And maybe it would allow her to understand some of his stranger personality quirks, like his near-constant paranoia. At her question, he sighed.

"20 years, 7 months, 24 days," he recited, the number clearly ingrained in his thoughts. "Axium Corporation took me when I was 8 years old, or so I read in my file. I don't remember much of those early years. I do know that they were trying to create an artificial werewolf, and I was one of the few lucky enough to survive the surgeries. I escaped three years ago."

His deep voice was all but monotone as he spoke, detached from the depth of horrors that he was describing, as if he had read the story in a book somewhere. As much as his subconscious had internalized all of it, as evidenced by his inability to sleep, and the restlessness that led him out walking almost every night, he spent as little time thinking about it as he could. How else was he meant to function, other than banishing it from his consciousness. It was only because Lilith was asking that he was even telling her now, but it felt oddly good to tell someone. He'd only told one other person in his life, and that was his boss, who ran interference with any of Axium's attempts to reacquire him, in exchange for Drew's physical protection of his person.

It was like pulling a poisoned thorn from himself, telling her now. As if telling her would allow him to further distance himself from it. After all, it was this secret that kept a wall between him and the outside world, who could never know the truth. Telling her this secret was like surrendering it, and the pain that went with it. The loneliness.

[Lilith Prescott]

Her fingers froze, taking in the information he gave her. She was surprised at how detached he sounded from what he told her, but she shrugged it off. Lilith continued to stare at his hand. 20 years. 20 years of torture. Axium corporation? She had never heard of the company, and she was more glad for it now. She started moving her hand across his palm again, digesting the information. Even though it was only a little bit...it was a lot to her. He had gone through 20 years of experimentation and she would never be able to understand that. But all Lilith wanted to do was take the burden from him that was this memory of everything.

Looking up, she wiped her eyes, clutching his hand once again, moving closer so she had pressed the side of her body against him, moving his hand into her lap. She had more questions, she was just preparing herself for the rest of the information that was going to come her way. "So you have been running for 3 years. How did you manage to get out? Are you scared they might find you again? How were you able to read your file? 20 years...how are you able to function...." The questions came fast, but that was the question Lilith was scared of. She took a deep breath, slightly embarrassed for the questions that had poured out of her.

How was Drew, after 20 years of torture, experimenting, and whatever else that evil place did to him, still able to function some kind of way. She had seen his paranoid self and she knew there might be other things, but other than that he wasn't crazy or anything. She wouldn't have been able to last nearly as long as he did. She would have just given up possibly...

Lilith took in a breath, leaning her head against his shoulder, using his warmth to help chase away the dark thoughts that were making their way into her head. "Why a werewolf? Do you know?"

[Drew Schultz]

At her hesitant question, he laughed once, a rough laugh like a bark that had nothing to do with humor. He slouched sideways a little, his nose teasing her ginger hair. The scent of her shampoo almost masked her own natural scent, but it was there beneath the first layer of ginger, and he savored the sweetness of it. It was Lilith's scent on his clothes that would linger long after she left, like a gentle pat on the shoulder whenever he was going about his day. The thought of it made him smile.

"There is that flood of questions I was waiting for," he teased her, looking at her as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I had a friend there. He was a true werewolf, the whole 'howl at the moon, eat the tasty people' kind. He was a captive there, too. He told me my name, and he trained me in fighting and controlling the wolf inside of me."

Virgil's face had faded in the past few years, but he could still remember the old wolf's laugh, and that satisfied huff he would give, whenever Drew finally mastered a skill that they'd been working on. It was those weird little things that he could always remember, and he was grateful for that. He doubted any of the scientists would remember some old wolf that had been gunned down in an escape attempt, but Drew would always remember his friend, and all that he had taught Drew. Although he would never have a wolf form quite like that of a true werewolf, Drew had learned from Virgil what it meant to stay in control of a mind that was constantly divided.

Turning his thoughts back to Lilith, he gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. There was too much to tell her for one night's conversation, but he liked to talk to her, more than he'd ever liked talking to anyone else. The words just kept coming.

"He called himself Virgil," Drew said, after a moment's thought. "He showed me the records room, where I found out a lot of the memories that they'd taken from me. I found my parents' address, my last name. My birth date. On our way out, Virgil died protecting me. I got away, and I went back to where my parents once lived, though I still can't remember them. I had hoped they would still be alive. I found out from a neighbor that they died before I was ever taken by Axium."

[Lilith Prescott]

Lilith breathed deep as Drew shifted. She enjoyed being this close to him and honestly, this was the most she had ever heard him talk. It was nice to listen to his deep voice, calming almost. She could have been content listening to him all night, the topic wasn't that happy but he seemed a little better talking about Virgil. She was glad he had someone in there....it would have been terrible to not have anyone. She looked at their hands, joined together, and tilted her head. "I am glad you had someone...in there..."

She started to relax against him, the room darkening. "Dead? I am so sorry." Lilith looked up, touching his face. "You can't remember them at all?" She leaned back against him, chewing the thoughts over in her mind. How awful it must have been. She frowned, trying to remember before New Orlando. Her brain started to hurt, just like it did every time she ever tried to remember. She could relate, but she had never really thought about it, going with the flow. 

Closing her eyes, Lilith felt all the stiffness in her body drain out. He was talking so much, and it was so nice, she turned her clear blue eyes up to him. "Where did your parents used to live? Is it close to here? How did you end up back here?" She paused. "Do you have nightmares?" She quickly looked down. As night was falling, and they were talking, to Lilith nothing else in the world existed. Nothing but Drew, and his story. He had a story, as sad and dreadful as it was. And Lilith wanted nothing more for his story not to go back to what it was.

Of course, the world waited for no one, and her cell phone started ringing. She looked at her purse, unceremoniously deposited on the floor next to the door next to her file. She let the tune of classical flutes go off and it stopped, going to voicemail. She relaxed again, until her cell started ringing again. She huffed, crawling off the bed and grabbing her purse. She rummaged through her purse. It was the guy she had gone on a date with, and she frowned, sending the call to voicemail.

Turning, Lilith looked at Drew, his scars seeming less now to her than before and she gave him a light smile. He was still shifted how he had been with her leaning against him and she didn't hesitate to crawl back to where she was so she could lean against his chest. She partially liked it there because being that close to him felt good, but also because he was warm, and she loved the warmth. It was one of the reasons she liked being in New Orlando, the heat.

The sound of her cell phone going off in her hand, made her groan and she looked at the number, recognizing it as work. Her eyes widened as she answered it. "Yes?...mhmm...no sorry I got caught up with something...yes. No. It won't happen again...I'm sorry." She hung up her phone, checking who had called her twice before, recognizing it as the guy she had gone on a date with before. Did he not take a hint? She powered her cell phone down, relaxing back into Drew. 

"Drew, is there anything that you look forward to now? Aspire to be? There has to be more than hiding right?"

[Drew Schultz]

Drew sighed softly at the next stream of questions. There was never a way of knowing what questions were the most important to her, and he could never quite remember all of them well enough to answer them all. However, at her last question, about nightmares, he sharply inhaled, as if she had read his thoughts. Could she tell that he hadn't been sleeping, or had it just been a random question? She asked so many of them, he wasn't getting any closer to understanding her train of thought. Sure, the shadows under his eyes were enough to clue anyone into it, but like most insomniacs, it wasn't an unusual look for him.

He jumped, his heart racing, when her phone went off. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief when he realized it was just her cell phone, he shook his head in self-disgust. Yeah, the flutes were coming to take him away. Get a grip. Leaning back to rest his weight on his hands, he waited for her to come back and sit with him. When she sat back down, the phone went off one more time, and he glared at it this time, as if it was startling him on purpose. Still, he said nothing as she answered, and he could hear both sides of the conversation. Her boss didn't seem particularly pleased with her for some reason.

Frowning as she turned it off, he glanced at the number and didn't recognize it, aside from a local area code. She pulled his attention back to herself with a question, and he blinked blankly at her.

"More?" he asked, tilting his head. "Well, there's you..."

He brushed her cheek with his own, much warmer cheek, his lips brushing her ear. That scent of hers... If he was lucky, maybe it would linger for a few days. He was sure he would be able to sleep with it close by. In fact, if he wasn't afraid of what she might say, he would rather have asked that she stay over, so that he could have a few hours of peaceful sleep at least. Picking her phone out from her fingers to avoid further distractions, he put it on the bedside table, which sat against the wall beside a guitar, which was easily the nicest single object in the apartment, shiny and well-maintained.

Returning to her side, he sat on the bed and ran his fingers through the soft hair by her cheek. Was he being selfish by wanting her to stay? After all, it seemed that the phone call from work hadn't been exactly favorable.

"Do you need to go?" he asked softly, hope that it didn't mean she would leave.