Dannyblue
20th June 2004, 08:32
Title: Night Visits (1/1)
Author: Dannyblue
Email: dannyblue2@yahoo.com
Summary: Sequel to “Choices In the Dark”.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Chloe/Lex.
Disclaimer: SMALLVILLE and its characters do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: All you have to do is ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: This came from two things. One was me trying to write a sequel. (I usually don’t, but I wanted to give it a go.) The other was trying to write something without thinking about it too much. I just let it flow. Hope you enjoy.
Some nights, Lex was content to watch Chloe sleep. To watch her closed eyelids flutter as she dreamed. To watch her chest rise and fall in a slow, gentle rhythm. To study the way she looked bathed in moonlight, her skin flawless, her golden hair turned silver-blue.
On those nights, he could touch her. Tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Run his hand down her arm, slowly, committing the feel of her soft, silken skin to memory. He could sit next to her, on the edge of her bed, and drink in her warmth. Let it surround him, and fill all those cold, empty spaces.
But those nights were fewer and farther between.
Lex stopped at the foot of the bed, in the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach.
She was lying on her back tonight, the blankets pushed down so they barely reached her hips. Her arms were flung over her head so that her tank top rode up, leaving the strip of skin above her pajama bottoms bare. The slightest smile curved her full lips, as if she were lost in some pleasant dreams.
The room was silent except for the sound of her breathing. And every breath she took sent another shiver racing up Lex’s spine, played across his nerve endings, bringing them to life. He could almost feel those breaths on his skin, a tickling warmth against his neck.
Lex took a deep breath, and she was there on the air. Peaches again, the one she seemed to favor most lately. And beneath that was her own scent, filling the night with the scent of sunlight. Coursing through his blood like honey, thick and warm. Flowing down until his chest was tight with it.
He took a step closer, resting his hands on the footboard. And he let his eyes drink her in. The way her breasts stretched the material of her tank top. The way the pajama bottoms rode low on her hips, leaving her navel exposed. The way her lips parted, almost in invitation.
Lex’s heart pounded, slow and steady but hard, in his chest. And there was nothing to stop the thoughts that drifted, cold and analytical, through his mind.
She was a heavy sleeper. And there were so many places—secret, hidden places—he hadn’t allowed his fingers to explore.
And if she woke? True, they weren’t alone in this house. But a hand over her mouth would keep anyone from hearing her screams.
He imagined her hands striking out at him, pounding against his face and chest. And he imagined not only feeling pain but pleasure, because they were her hands, her nails clawing at his skin.
He imagined the little whimpers that would issue from her throat, caressing his ears like siren song. So sweet and pure, he could ignore the fear in them. And the sound of her clothes ripping would be like whispers.
He imagined the feel of her struggling beneath him. Every inch of bare skin pressed against his. Her chest pressed to his chest. Her stomach pressed against his. Her legs tangled with his legs.
And he imagined what it would be like to bury himself inside her. Sinking so deep, all he could feel was her warmth.
Lex’s stomach clenched, his abdomen suddenly feeling hard and tight. His hands clutched the footboard until it was cutting into his palms. Until his knuckles turned white. His eyes raked across her body, piercing so deep it seemed he should have been able to see through the clothes that got in the way.
On nights like this, he wasn’t a content watcher. He was a predator, hungry and hollow, inches away from the only prey that could fill the emptiness. And he wanted her to wake up. To see him standing there amongst the shadows. He wanted to see her eyes widen in fear, her mouth open to scream. Because, then, there would be nothing left to lose. And nothing to stop him from making all of those dreams real.
He leaned forward, reached out slowly, finally resting his hand on her ankle. Captivated for a moment by the heat of her skin, which seemed to burn through the pajamas and into his palm. He ran his hand up her leg, across her knee, up to her thigh, the heat burning brighter and hotter, branding him.
And she stirred in her sleep, a frown puckering her brow, head turning from one side to the other.
Body still with anticipation, Lex watched, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open. His hand tightened on her thigh, fingers digging into her flesh. Maybe that would be enough…
But her restlessness only lasted for a moment, and she quickly settled into sleep again.
Disappointment crashing over him like a wave, Lex released the shaky breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. Reluctantly, he removed his hand, clenching it into a fist because it felt so empty and cold. As he took a step back, the practical part of him—the part that always allowed him to stay in control—insisted it was for the best. That they were just dreams, and that’s what they should stay. That there was a line he didn’t want to cross. Because he wanted her, but not that way.
But the predator howled, its hunger clawing at his insides. Pushing at him. Urging him towards the bed. Towards her scent and warmth. Towards promises of screams and fear. Pleasure and pain.
Without realizing, he took a step closer.
**********
Chloe woke with a start.
Caught in the grip of post-sleep panic, she struggled against the blankets that were snuggly tucked beneath her chin. Finally pushing them away, she sat up in bed, gasping for air. Her heart was pounding, and even the sunlight streaming through the window brought little comfort.
Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms around her knees. As she took deep, calming breaths, she tried to remember her nightmare. Because that’s what it must have been. Only, her mind was a blank. Whatever had been chasing her through her dreams, had made her wake up filled with fear and dread, was gone now.
Closing her eyes, she took one more deep breath. As her heart slowed to normal, as her fear started to dissolve in the sunlight, she shook her head. Well, a few people had told her she could be a little over-dramatic.
Smiling a little at her own theatrics, she got out of bed. As she took a step towards the dresser, she became aware of a strange sensation in her leg. A soft, dull ache.
A confused frown puckering her brow, she sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled up the leg of her loose-fitting pajama bottoms. And was perplexed by what she found.
They looked like bruises, faint, blue/black smudges dotting her skin.
Frown deepening, all she could do was stare. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how they’d gotten there. Maybe she’d bumped into something without realizing it? Not like it would be the first time.
As she studied the bruises, puzzled over how they’d gotten there, she was surprised to realize what else they looked like.
Fingerprints.
THE END
Author: Dannyblue
Email: dannyblue2@yahoo.com
Summary: Sequel to “Choices In the Dark”.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Chloe/Lex.
Disclaimer: SMALLVILLE and its characters do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: All you have to do is ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: This came from two things. One was me trying to write a sequel. (I usually don’t, but I wanted to give it a go.) The other was trying to write something without thinking about it too much. I just let it flow. Hope you enjoy.
Some nights, Lex was content to watch Chloe sleep. To watch her closed eyelids flutter as she dreamed. To watch her chest rise and fall in a slow, gentle rhythm. To study the way she looked bathed in moonlight, her skin flawless, her golden hair turned silver-blue.
On those nights, he could touch her. Tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Run his hand down her arm, slowly, committing the feel of her soft, silken skin to memory. He could sit next to her, on the edge of her bed, and drink in her warmth. Let it surround him, and fill all those cold, empty spaces.
But those nights were fewer and farther between.
Lex stopped at the foot of the bed, in the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach.
She was lying on her back tonight, the blankets pushed down so they barely reached her hips. Her arms were flung over her head so that her tank top rode up, leaving the strip of skin above her pajama bottoms bare. The slightest smile curved her full lips, as if she were lost in some pleasant dreams.
The room was silent except for the sound of her breathing. And every breath she took sent another shiver racing up Lex’s spine, played across his nerve endings, bringing them to life. He could almost feel those breaths on his skin, a tickling warmth against his neck.
Lex took a deep breath, and she was there on the air. Peaches again, the one she seemed to favor most lately. And beneath that was her own scent, filling the night with the scent of sunlight. Coursing through his blood like honey, thick and warm. Flowing down until his chest was tight with it.
He took a step closer, resting his hands on the footboard. And he let his eyes drink her in. The way her breasts stretched the material of her tank top. The way the pajama bottoms rode low on her hips, leaving her navel exposed. The way her lips parted, almost in invitation.
Lex’s heart pounded, slow and steady but hard, in his chest. And there was nothing to stop the thoughts that drifted, cold and analytical, through his mind.
She was a heavy sleeper. And there were so many places—secret, hidden places—he hadn’t allowed his fingers to explore.
And if she woke? True, they weren’t alone in this house. But a hand over her mouth would keep anyone from hearing her screams.
He imagined her hands striking out at him, pounding against his face and chest. And he imagined not only feeling pain but pleasure, because they were her hands, her nails clawing at his skin.
He imagined the little whimpers that would issue from her throat, caressing his ears like siren song. So sweet and pure, he could ignore the fear in them. And the sound of her clothes ripping would be like whispers.
He imagined the feel of her struggling beneath him. Every inch of bare skin pressed against his. Her chest pressed to his chest. Her stomach pressed against his. Her legs tangled with his legs.
And he imagined what it would be like to bury himself inside her. Sinking so deep, all he could feel was her warmth.
Lex’s stomach clenched, his abdomen suddenly feeling hard and tight. His hands clutched the footboard until it was cutting into his palms. Until his knuckles turned white. His eyes raked across her body, piercing so deep it seemed he should have been able to see through the clothes that got in the way.
On nights like this, he wasn’t a content watcher. He was a predator, hungry and hollow, inches away from the only prey that could fill the emptiness. And he wanted her to wake up. To see him standing there amongst the shadows. He wanted to see her eyes widen in fear, her mouth open to scream. Because, then, there would be nothing left to lose. And nothing to stop him from making all of those dreams real.
He leaned forward, reached out slowly, finally resting his hand on her ankle. Captivated for a moment by the heat of her skin, which seemed to burn through the pajamas and into his palm. He ran his hand up her leg, across her knee, up to her thigh, the heat burning brighter and hotter, branding him.
And she stirred in her sleep, a frown puckering her brow, head turning from one side to the other.
Body still with anticipation, Lex watched, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open. His hand tightened on her thigh, fingers digging into her flesh. Maybe that would be enough…
But her restlessness only lasted for a moment, and she quickly settled into sleep again.
Disappointment crashing over him like a wave, Lex released the shaky breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. Reluctantly, he removed his hand, clenching it into a fist because it felt so empty and cold. As he took a step back, the practical part of him—the part that always allowed him to stay in control—insisted it was for the best. That they were just dreams, and that’s what they should stay. That there was a line he didn’t want to cross. Because he wanted her, but not that way.
But the predator howled, its hunger clawing at his insides. Pushing at him. Urging him towards the bed. Towards her scent and warmth. Towards promises of screams and fear. Pleasure and pain.
Without realizing, he took a step closer.
**********
Chloe woke with a start.
Caught in the grip of post-sleep panic, she struggled against the blankets that were snuggly tucked beneath her chin. Finally pushing them away, she sat up in bed, gasping for air. Her heart was pounding, and even the sunlight streaming through the window brought little comfort.
Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms around her knees. As she took deep, calming breaths, she tried to remember her nightmare. Because that’s what it must have been. Only, her mind was a blank. Whatever had been chasing her through her dreams, had made her wake up filled with fear and dread, was gone now.
Closing her eyes, she took one more deep breath. As her heart slowed to normal, as her fear started to dissolve in the sunlight, she shook her head. Well, a few people had told her she could be a little over-dramatic.
Smiling a little at her own theatrics, she got out of bed. As she took a step towards the dresser, she became aware of a strange sensation in her leg. A soft, dull ache.
A confused frown puckering her brow, she sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled up the leg of her loose-fitting pajama bottoms. And was perplexed by what she found.
They looked like bruises, faint, blue/black smudges dotting her skin.
Frown deepening, all she could do was stare. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how they’d gotten there. Maybe she’d bumped into something without realizing it? Not like it would be the first time.
As she studied the bruises, puzzled over how they’d gotten there, she was surprised to realize what else they looked like.
Fingerprints.
THE END