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[center][color=yellow][b]Location:[/b][/color]
[color=#959595]Vex’s apartment[/color] [color=#3A5F7F][b]Time:[/b][/color] [color=#959595]Dusk[/color][/center]
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Vex leaned over him, her golden eyes burning with a fierce, predatory glow, breath steady but sharp as she held him pinned beneath her. Her thighs locked around him, legs braced on either side of his body, the strength in them unmistakable.

A low, sultry laugh slipped from her lips, breath hot as it danced over his skin. She stayed there for a heartbeat longer, letting the weight of her presence settle, then with a slow, deliberate motion, she let herself fall back beside him, boots thudding softly against the floor.

One leg still draped lazily over his chest, she reached out with a graceful, inked arm, fingertips snatching up the can that had tumbled away during their scuffle. With a flick of her wrist, she cracked it open, tilting her head back and drinking deeply with ease. Half-finished, she let out a small exhale and a satisfied moan, offering the rest to him, eyes glinting with dark amusement.

Zachariah grimaced when she offered him the half-empty can. Drinking after a stranger wasn’t exactly appealing. But after a beat, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, ignoring the protest of aching muscles, and accepted the can.Cold, cheap beer had never tasted so good. Each gulp erased another layer of pain, washing copper-tinged blood from his tongue and cooling his raw throat.

Her gaze swept the wrecked apartment: jagged holes punched through the walls, shattered drywall scattered like snow, furniture overturned and splintered. A slow, wicked grin curled at the corner of her mouth.

[color=yellow]“That,”[/color] she murmured, voice rich and velvety,[color=yellow] “was one hell of an introduction.”[/color]

She flexed her wrist slightly, noting how the torn flesh was already stitching itself back together — a perk of her kind, but even so, she’d need to tend to it later. With a fluid roll, she rose to her feet, standing over him with the easy, feral grace of a predator.

Vex reached down, offering her ringed, tattooed hand to help him to his feet. 

Zachariah didn’t hesitate this time. He clasped it firmly, letting her pull him to his feet. Pain radiated through his body as he stood—sharp stabs along his ribs, duller aches in his shoulders and back. He winced, rolling his neck carefully to assess the damage.

[color=yellow] “Name’s Vex,” [/color] she purred, her voice laced with danger and a hint of playfulness.[color=yellow] “Found you crumpled up in some alley, beaten bloody. You were turned and dumped I imagine. Must have pissed off the wrong vampire…” [/color] 

[color=#3A5F7F]“Zachariah,”[/color] he introduced himself, still holding her hand a heartbeat too long before letting go. [color=#3A5F7F]“I guess so.”[/color] His brow furrowed as he tried to gather the scattered fragments of memory. There had been a club. Neon lights bleeding into darkness. Whispers of suspicious activity he’d been tracking. Then... nothing. A blank space where memories should be. [color=#3A5F7F]“I can’t remember what happened.”[/color]

Vex gave a sharp kick, sending a crumbling piece of drywall skittering across the floor with a dull thud. She sauntered over to the worn-out couch, the faded fabric mottled with age and stains. With a casual swipe of her hand, she brushed away a layer of dust, sending tiny motes swirling in the dim light. With a satisfied sigh, she dropped her weight into the cushions, the springs creaking softly beneath her. Leaning back, she slouched deep into the sagging embrace of the couch, boots landing with a heavy thump on the scratched, battered coffee table in front of her. A lazy smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she settled in, surrounded by the quiet disarray of the room.

He nursed the remainder of the beer, buying time while his gaze drifted across the wreckage surrounding them—the overturned furniture, punctured walls, and dust that hung in the air like the aftermath of some private war.

Guilt and embarrassment settled over him. He’d attacked his rescuer and trashed her place. Nice work. Zachariah set the empty can on a miraculously intact side table and limped toward what remained of the kitchen. [color=#3A5F7F]“Not... to sound ungrateful for what you did,”[/color] he said, pulling open drawers and cabinets until he found a trash bag and began searching for a broom, [color=#3A5F7F]“but... why did you save me?”[/color]

Vex slouched deeper into the battered couch, fingers slipping into her back pocket until they fished out a joint—bent and a little crushed from all the fighting. She frowned, giving a soft click of her tongue as she tried to smooth it out between her fingers. [color=yellow]“...Damn.”[/color] she muttered, but with a flick of her lighter, the tip flared to life anyway.

Drawing in a long, steady drag, she let the smoke fill her lungs before slowly exhaling, the haze curling around her sharp smile. Her dark eyes tracked Zachariah as he moved awkwardly through the wreckage, a faint gleam of amusement lighting her gaze.

[color=yellow]“You wanna know why I saved you?”[/color] she murmured, voice smooth as silk, edged with just a touch of heat. She tapped ash off the end of the joint, watching it fall in lazy flecks to the floor.

[color=yellow]“I’ve got a thing for underdogs, a soft spot I suppose.”[/color] She let the words hang, eyes half-lidded as she smirked. [color=yellow]“Too many spawn running around, tearing up the streets, causing havoc. But you…”[/color] she motioned loosely with the joint, smoke trailing after her hand, [color=yellow]“you didn’t look like some junkie who pissed off the wrong vampire. You looked put together. Like you didn’t belong in their game.”[/color]

[color=#3A5F7F]“[i]No one[/i] ‘belongs’ to them or in their game,”[/color] Zachariah commented tartly.

She took another drag rolling her eyes, the glow of the ember briefly lighting the sharp curve of her cheekbone. [color=yellow]“That’s not how the world works Sugar and the fact that they didn’t want you…that makes you interesting.”[/color] Her eyes seemed to linger on him for a moment before she took another long drag of her joint.[color=yellow]“Look. I have no agenda if that is what you’re getting at. I live in a shithole and run a tattoo parlor.”[/color] Her yellow eyes turned to the joint in her hand as she slowly twisted it in her fingers, watching the smoke rise from the cherry [color=yellow]“I had a spare room and you look like you needed one.”[/color] she shrugged looking back at him [color=yellow]“That’s it.”[/color]  

[color=#3A5F7F]“I… see.”[/color] If that was really the case, then he completely read Vex wrong. However, this was Halcyon, not everything was as it seemed. In this city, suspicion in moderate amounts was healthy for those who worked with the supernatural. [color=#3A5F7F]“Thanks for taking me in.”[/color]

[color=yellow]“ Dont’ mention it. Oh, You wont find a broom, if that is what your searching for…”[/color] she let out a small laugh watching him attempt to clean up the mess they made.

Zachariah sighed at that and closed the pantry door. [color=#3A5F7F]“What do you have that I can use?”[/color] Emerging from the kitchen, he flapped open the trash bag and began stuffing all the unsalvageable debris into it. 

Vex took another drag of her joint, the cherry flaring to life and briefly casting a devilish red glow across her sharp cheekbone. Her yellow eyes narrowed slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as Zachariah rustled through her barely-standing kitchen with the tenacity of a man clinging to civility.

[color=yellow]“What do I have you can use?”[/color] she echoed dryly, tipping her head as if actually considering the question.

She exhaled smoke slowly through her nose, watching the grey plume drift lazily toward the cracked ceiling.

[color=yellow]“Mmm. Let’s see…”[/color] she said, gesturing vaguely with the smoldering joint. [color=yellow]“I’ve got a dull butter knife, three lighters that only work if you beg them, a cursed blender, and an overwhelming sense of disappointment in men.”[/color]

Her grin widened, sharp and lazy all at once.

[color=yellow]“You’re welcome to any of that.”[/color]

Zachariah shook his head, smirking slightly. [color=#3A5F7F]“In other words, nothing I can use to clean. Got it.”[/color] He surveyed the apartment again. This was going to take forever. Maybe he should just call in a professional to patch up the room and pay for the expenses.

She kicked her boots up onto the edge of the battered coffee table again, reclining deeper into the couch with the posture of a woman entirely too comfortable amid the ruins.

[color=yellow]“But don’t get too eager, Sugar. If you start fixing things around here, I might think you’re trying to nest.”[/color]

Vex gave him that look — slow, and sultry. The kind of look that wrapped itself around your spine and tugged. It said she wasn’t joking… but she absolutely was. Probably.

[color=#3A5F7F]“Or maybe I don’t consider property damage an appropriate thank-you gift. Shocking, I realize.”[/color]

She took another drag from the joint, flicked the ash to the floor without a hint of remorse, and let the smoke curl lazily from the corner of her lips.[color=yellow]“I consider it a…”[/color] she thought for a moment [color=yellow]“well…nevermind about that.”[/color] she grinned as clearly an inappropriate thought ran through her mind. 

[color=yellow]“Besides, I kinda like the mess. Gives the place character.”[/color]

Zachariah nodded toward the refrigerator with its dented door and exposed coils. [color=#3A5F7F]“Do you also ‘kind of like’ broken appliances? Because there’s a scrapyard on the east side that might be more your style.”[/color] Vex chuckled in response. 

Patting his pockets, Zachariah frowned when he realized his wallet and phone were missing. After rummaging through the kitchen drawers, he managed to find a pen and a crumpled receipt. He smoothed it out against the counter and wrote on the back.

[color=#3A5F7F]“At least buy something that actually works,”[/color] he said, setting the pen down on the paper where he’d written his contact information. [color=#3A5F7F]“Just send the bill to me.”[/color]

She let herself sink deeper into the wrecked couch with a long, satisfied moan, stretching out like a cat that had just won a street brawl. She smirked at his comment about billing him. By all appearances Vex looked and lived as if she needed it, but in reality she was the opposite. 

[color=yellow]“Haven’t had a fight like that in a long time. You fight really well considering you were human.”[/color] she attempted to change the subject. 

Her voice purred but there was an edge of adrenaline still riding her tone, a buzz beneath the calm. Then suddenly, as if a wire had snapped tight in her mind, her eyes snapped back to him—sharp, alive, deadly.

She sat up abruptly, boots slamming to the floor, elbows on her knees, eyes glowing bright with something between disbelief and amusement.

[color=yellow]“You were a [b]fucking[/b] Warden.”[/color]

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement—accusation, realization, maybe even admiration tangled in the chaos of her voice. Her grin twisted, hungry and dangerous now, like she'd just realized the rabbit she dragged inside was actually a wolf.[/color]