Kick 'em to the {ELLA} curb

[Curran Aiden Pettelli]

Curran found himself raising an eyebrow, not one hundred percent sure as to whether she was joking about the other guys. He had been, on the most part, but he wouldn’t put it past some of the high school kids (hah, kids, Curran was not exactly one to be described as mature at the best of times) to be stalking her, and of course, offering to be her tour guide. Though if she had been a few weeks already, he couldn’t help but wonder somewhat as to how she hadn’t already been asked out by every guy in town. Still, with that gleam in her eyes Curran could not help but grin back. He’d be here, waiting at nine thirty even if it killed the young man, he’d be here.

For now however, he simply settled for a small nod, and his most flirtatious, and charming, smile and left, shouldering his pack as he left the cool air of the diner, and jogging the rest of the way home. He beat his personal best – even whilst eating pie.

It took him all of two hours to shower and choose what he was going to wear. Curran was not one of these guys who normally cared too much about what he was wearing, as he knew most of his wardrobe was tailored to make him look good, but he wanted to you know, knock the socks of this girl or something along those lines. He ever reached the point where he asked daisy, who had been curled up on his bed, snoring no less, what she thought. He took her little huff sound as a yes, and pulled on the jeans and jumper he had pulled out, before grabbing his shoes and his wallet and heading back towards the diner, jogging at a pace that would get him there faster than walking, but not enough that he would actually break a sweat, and undo everything he had just strived for under the hot water.

As was, he was only waiting five minutes before Elle emerged, and his face instantly broke into an easy smile. Which, in case you were interested to know, didn’t alter even as she walked past him. In fact, it just made his smile grow wider – he was liking this girl more and more. When she called after him, Curran span on his leg, his long strides quickly catching up to her side, his gloved hands still pushed deep into the pockets of his coat. It was cold, even for texas, and the faintest hint of white puffed before his face when he breathed. Not completely noticeable, but there none the less – and here was Curran with no idea where to go first. The Town wasn’t big by any means of the word.

In the faint glow of the moon, which if you were interested to know, was only half full tonight, Elle’s skin looked milky white, ethereal even, and her eyes shone. He smiled, and skipped ahead, walking backwards with his hands still in his pockets and facing her. Well, he wanted to appreciate the way she looked out of the harsh, and unflattering lights of the diner. “Okay, ” He smiled, walking backwards as easily as he could forwards. It was a little perk that came with his inheritance, the grace with which he could move when he so wished. “Where do you want to go first? That way” He pointed with his right hand “Is the mall, my mom’s bookstore, my apartment, the gym and range, and a load of motels and stuff. But, on this side” he pointed with his left hand “There’s the park, some old shops, the track, and i do believe the carnival. There’s also some bars and stuff, but we can worry about them some other time.”

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TAGGING Elle!
WORDS 643. !
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES Thread thingy change! New clothes! !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[Elle Nora Taylor]

Elle tried not to cut her eyes his way when Curran caught up, strolling backwards in time with her pace and wearing a charming smile that the blonde waitress thought was easily infectious. It was useless to try and hide her satisfaction that he’d really shown up; the light in his sapphire eyes was endearing and Elle really liked the way he walked with his hands in his pockets. He’d changed and looked surprising sweeter than he had in the garish illumination of her work place, and when his gem-blue gaze caught the silvery reflection of the moon, she could have sworn they actually glowed.

Of course that wasn’t possible. The willowy blonde chuckled quietly and shook her head at her over active imagination, slipping her hands into the pockets of the coat and tilting her head to the side as he went over their options. Really, as giddy as she was feeling at the moment, the young man couldn’t have taken her to the dump and her heart would have probably still beat with the quickness of hummingbird wings.
Silly girl. He was just a boy. And boys were trouble. She had to remind herself not to get overly flighty lest she make a fool of herself.

“I guess the latter…” Elle answered, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to turn her into an eager 5-year old at the toy store. It was bad enough that she couldn’t keep from blushing like before, but luckily the biting winter breeze could easily do that without the blood rushing to her pale cheeks. “I live in one of those motels…” She confessed and then winced at the openness she always tried her hardest to avoid. Clearing her throat and pretending she hadn’t just stated that fact, the lithe girl pasted on a guileless smile and added, “I haven’t really seen the parks yet, and if there really is a carnival in town, I’m going to beat you at the ring toss game.”

Elle raised her eyebrows at him in an utterly mischievous fashion, and grinned; the kind of smile that made her appear a playful imp where as she might have been a tad bid craven before. And to prove her impishness even more, the off-duty waitress reached out with one hand to grab his bicep, twisting him so that he was walking by her side the right way, and she could link her arm through.

“So, what do you like to do besides picking up unassuming waitresses?” She asked innocently, turning her face to him. “You mentioned the range before. What exactly is a range and what do you do there?”

[Curran Aiden Pettelli]

Well, if only Curran could hear what Elle was thinking about his eyes he would be having a field day. He’d also get a lot out of knowing that she thought enough of him to think about his eyes, though as it was, despite his grace and lithe frame, the fluidity of his movements and a certain transformation every full moon (and just when he fancied a good run) Curran did not have that particular power. He could however, as the linked arms and he fell easily into her stride, feel the heat of her skin through his light jumper, and smell her shampoo and soap beneath the smell of the diner. There was no competition as to which scent he proffered, and somewhere in his brain it started that the diner smells where blocked out. Much better.

Beside her, his eyebrow arched when she said she lived in one of those motels. If he was his mother he would start insisting that she come stay with them, more so with it being so close to Christmas, but he could tell by the way she quickly moved into another topic of conversation, the way she started asking questions. So Curran simply walked with her and steered them towards the park, and the moonlit path, heading towards the small wood where he jogged every day. Just through the trees they would find the carnival, and he could just about hear laughter on the breeze. ”Would I lie about a carnival?” he asked, grinning in mock shock.

”What do I do for fun?” He pretended to think about, he smile turning flirty and charming once more. ”Well, as much fun as picking up waitresses is – I guess i do a lot of sport, and research and stuffs. The range is an Archery range, and i go there a couple of times a week. My trainer is trying to get me to join the team. ” He bumped her with his side, grinning as they walked, quite content with life just then, and for once in what seemed like forever, he wasn’t spending his time noticing things that weren’t there – though it might have been a good idea. ”What about you? Other than bake foreplay pies, what do you do for fun?”

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TAGGING Elle!
WORDS 379. !
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES Sorry it;s short !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[Elle Nora Taylor]

Their pace was steady and her steps light, and if she hadn’t been so careful a girl, Elle probably would be floating by now. Not literally of course as she was just your run of the mill everyday sort of human, but every passing moment, especially on the young man’s arm, reminded her that some things in life, particularly people, could be extraordinary.
She was grateful that -he- was the sort of boy not to press the reason as to her living out of a hotel room, and she wondered at the fleeting concern that drifted in and then back out of his radiant eyes no sooner than it had appeared. Maybe, after they’d learned some more light-hearted things about one another, she’d tell him about her parents. God knew that there were times she just needed to talk about it, because the build-up of sadness in her chest was eating her up inside and it got even worse the closer it got to Christmas.
But for the moment, she was content to be swept off her feet (though they were firmly on the ground) by this remarkably charming young man.

She hadn’t been so much accusing him of lying about the carnival as much as she’d been teasing, so Elle smiled blithely, reaching up with her opposite hand to pat him on the arm in reassurance. Curran went on to tell her all the things he did with his free time, and she was amazed at how active a person he was…sports, research, though the former she could very well make out herself considering how athletic his form was. (She hadn’t failed to notice the sinewy muscle her hand clung to beneath the grey hoodie and that ephemeral thought whispered a diffident beam across her delicate features) The waitress thought she might very much like to let his liveliness brush off on her because she spent way too many hours holed up in that horrid motel room in front of the television or just strumming her guitar.

The lithe blonde let an airy giggle bubble up from her throat when Curran nudged her with his hip and mentioned foreplay pie, and she shook her head as if to shake off the warmth creeping up her cheeks, chewing on her bottom lip a little when she tilted her face to look at him. “I’m kinda’ embarrassed to admit I don’t really do much.” She confessed, and lifted her hand to brush that darned annoying wisp of hair out of her blue eyes. “I like to write…songs…I play the guitar and I like to sing, but mostly in the shower. There was a couple of times I did karaoke, and that was fun.” Elle screwed her face up, thinking that she probably sounded like the biggest idiot right now. “I dunno…if I had more friends I’d probably do a little bit more, but like I said I’ve been moving around a lot…”

Elle inhaled deeply and held the breath, turning her face up to the sky and hoping that being such a ridiculously boring individual wouldn’t put Curran off too much. She’d like to do more, honestly…so maybe now that she’d met -him- it would be easier to become that active, open person she wished she could be.

“Give me all your money.” A harsh voice out of the darkness popped the bubble of contentment Elle was feeling, and when she focused her eyes on the shadows before them, a singular figure came into view.
The man was scruffy faced and had beady eyes and his frown was a harsh slit cut into the lower of his countenance. The slender blonde gasped and tightened her grip on her date’s arm, stopping dead in her tracks.

“Just give me what you got and no body gets a bullet.” The mugger added, now pulling the weapon out of his jacket.

Elle had never been a very brave girl. In fact, she was usually very careful and compliant. Maybe it was the fact that she was so mad at this awful man intruding on her and Curran’s very innocent, enjoyable time that caused the waitress to be daring…and she threw her purse square in the guy’s face.

Too bad the purse was just a little lacy thing that held only a couple crumpled bills, a small hairbrush, a motel room key and a tube of cotton-candy pink lip gloss. It hit him in the nose and bounced off, not hurting him in the slightest but making him dreadfully angry.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Dont be sorry-- it was great.
New Header! Woo!
Song-- Our Song
Word Count-- 755!

[Curran Aiden Pettelli]

Perhaps in stark contrast to his -not- date, and current partner for the evening, Curran was one of the most carefree people in the world – at least on the outside. Outside he was all carefree and adrenaline rush, a person who engaged in the simple pleasures of life for the very simple reason that they were pleasurable. He was easy going, friendly, funny, and he pulled of the facade so well not even his parents knew the truth behind his actions, behind his easy going ways. But then, who would guess that the young man spent quiet hours in the shop looking through the occult sections for references to demons, that he ran everyday to make sure he was fit enough to travel long distances on foot quickly, just in case, that he had an app on his phone which a friend had hardwired and designed to alert him if anything relative to his sister appeared on the net – that he spent those long days and hours in the gym and at the the Archery range so that he could find his sister, and save her.

Who could indeed then know that his savings, ones he had originally put away to travel the world and possibly pay a deposit on an apartment had been spent on a state of the art compound bow, and arrows that were spelled and carved specifically to force the demon to leave his sister’s body?

Behind his happy go lucky facade, behind the smiles and the carefully placed veil in his eyes - you couldn’t. Still, for now at least, the carefree will of the young man was not a facade but real, he enjoyed Elle’s company, the feel of her fingers on his arm, the easy way she laughed at his stupid jokes and playful manner, and as she spoke, he most certainly did not find her boring. Whilst they walked he tried to pick out the small things that made her, her... the loose curl of her hair, her pierced ears, the white of her teeth and the way her eyes reflected the stars and the nearly full moon above them – a moon that very soon would claim Currans form for its own and force him out of this skin and into another. But for tonight at least, he was safe, even if the wolf was there, in the back of his mind, it was easily ignored and pushed aside to revel in the night that was unfurling before them.


”I’d like to hear you sing sometime” Curran grinned, and meaning every word. His mother and his sister sang beautifully, both in human and wolf form, the notes high and musical, almost magical in quality. Unfortunately, Curran had gotten his father’s genes, and both men were practically tone-deaf, and often only sang when very drunk, or coaxed into karaoke by drunken relatives. But he could appreciate a good voice, like most people, and from the way she spoke, the musical lilt to even her speech was hint at something far greater that she seemed to hide behind shyness.


What with all this distraction, the normally so attentive Curran – the boy who noticed the tip of a sneaker peaking from under a bush, who could track a fly at the other end of the room whilst keeping conversation, who noticed things others did not, and who found it impossible to sit still, failed to hear the crunch of approaching feet, or the heavy breathing of a mugger with an accelerated heart rate. The young man swore under his breath at his own stupidity – though there was something to be said about a girl who could distract him so easily, when all others had failed.

Instinctively, Curran moved in front of Elle, blocking her in most part from the potential mugger before them. As always happened when confronted with danger, certain aspects of the boys nature took a back seat to let other, more resilient qualities step forward and take over. In that swift motion of stepping forward, and blocking Elle, at the sound of threatening words, the carefree personality of Curran Pettelli was replaced with the snarling cornered beast of his wolf, more dangerous for being backed into a corner – more deadly for protecting someone else. His eyes had even changed shade, swapping from the ocean blues of his norm to the amber and gold eyes of beast. He was even Growling, a light rumble in the boys chest as he stared down the man, mugger, enemy. Somewhere, he was mildly surprised when Elle flung her purse at him, registering the proper Kudos for the petite young woman, but right then Curran was more instinct than anything relatively human.

”Get lost” he snarled, eyes ignoring the weapon and instead boring into the skull of his mugger. A wolfs greatest ability when cornered was to work on the instinctive predator versus prey, the fight or flight reaction – the fear of death, and that was exactly what Curran was doing now. ”Turn around, and walk away, and i’ll forget you even exist” there was threat concealed in that single comment, and on that was far from empty.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

TAGGING Elle!
WORDS 837. !
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES Muahah snuck it in after my revision !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[Elle Nora Taylor]

Elle let out a little ‘eep’ when the thrown purse did nothing to dissuade the assailant, taking a fearful step backwards when the man growled low in his throat and aimed the gun at her chest. It wasn’t like she’d been expecting the little lacy thing to drop him like a ton of bricks, but she’d been hoping that it would have nailed him in the eye or something.
Where was Lady Luck when she needed her, huh? Too bad that old rabbit’s foot she’d clung too as a child despite the way the other kids had teased her of its morbidity had lost its mojo long before she’d thrown it out. It was a shame that the penny tucked into the discarded purse on the ground hadn’t helped her one bit despite the fact she’d found it ‘head’ side up. What about all those whispered prayers before bed? Hadn’t she said them right? How come no one up there ever listened? They certainly hadn’t brought back her mother and father and they definitely weren’t keeping her safe from harm now.

When Curran moved to stand before her, Elle clutched his shoulders tightly and let out a strangled sound of surprise.
Who’d have guessed the engaging boy with the laughing eyes and the warm, contagious smile would be her knight in shining armor? A warmth spread through her middle and for a moment, the wispy blonde forgot where she was. Maybe all this time she’d been so very, very wrong. There was someone out there she’d always been destined to meet and fall head over heels for and this night, of all nights, when her feet were aching and the moon was only half full but hung proud and bright amidst gossamer cloud, she had found him.

Too bad he was as silly as a snowman in July. Though he held his head like a hero, the weapon pointed at his lean chest wasn’t a toy and he likely wasn’t wearing an armored vest.

“Curran, don’t…” She leaned in and whispered into his ear, letting her pink lips brush against the velvet of his ear in hopes that the distraction would keep him from pushing the man further. Of course, with his back to her he couldn’t see the supernatural shine in his eyes nor could she pick out the slight change in his voice from normal to just a hair huskier.

It was also very unfortunate that the thug was too high to recognize these details either; Curran’s threat was followed by a mirthless chuckle and a shaking head. “You gotta’ be kidding me.” The man said and suddenly, as if without thinking, the gun exploded in his hand.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then.

Elle gasped, and the mugger dropped a step back like he hadn’t meant to actually follow through with his threat. Curran’s arm was struck with the bullet, and though it was only a minor flesh wound, the blonde waitress’s eyes filled with mournful tears.
She didn’t know where the bullet had hit him; she only knew that the sound of the explosion caused her ears to ring and the impact of weapon hitting skin jostled his body.


♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Sowwy Curran. Bad, bad mugger!
Song-- Our Song
Word Count-- 535!

[Curran Aiden Pettelli]

Her words only registered in the part of the brain that were still Curran, and even then only to move slightly, alter so that the barrel of the gun, shaking in the muggers hands, had no way of hitting Elle behind him. See, she had no way of knowing of course that, unless the bullets in his gun were silver – a small factoid that he highly doubted- they couldn’t do him any real, lasting harm. The skin would simply heal over, knit itself back together –it would not even scar. But no, Elle had no way of knowing this, and as the beast pushed the human further away, as it elongated teeth and pulled lips away from gum in a snarl, Curran took the two small words with him. Before he had given the mugger warning, the decrepit fowl smelling stain of a human had a chance to run. If he even wavered and pointed the gun at her... well. He wouldn’t get away with it. Curran did not kill – it went against everything the young vegetarian man stood for – but he could see to it that he never found his way out of the wards of a mental hospital again, that he never had the chance to pull a gun on another unsuspecting couple ever again.

And then he pulled the trigger.

Curran span a half turn backwards, the force of the bullet spinning his arm, digging and searing a channel through his skin that hurt like a bitch, even as it already began to kit itself back together, ligaments and muscle rejoining in process that was incredibly irritating on only minor wounds, claw marks from his sister during moon lit nights, and would only be worse for the hole bored through his skin. As time appeared to slow, several things happened at once. Currans head turned and he saw Elle’s eyes, the look of pain on her pretty features, and the start of tears in her eyes. The part of Curran that reacted to threat and instinct took over, and for a split second, during the shock and the worst of his pain, his eyes were blue again, before turning amber once more and tilting, reshaping, growing darker as the wolf took over.

For, as Curran snarled, he changed, as he span himself forward again, at the man who dared to point a gun at them, who had dared to fire despite fair warning, Curran was no longer man. The transformation was too fast for the eye to follow – one moment he was a wounded young man in a hoodie, jeans, protecting the girl he’d invited out that night, and in the next he was all teeth and silver fur shining in the moonlight, his clothes a bloodied, and torn heap on the floor. Curran was bigger than a normal wolf, easily standing at hip height as he threw his weight at the mugger, knocking gun from hand.

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TAGGING Elle!
WORDS 490. !
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES Muahah snuck it in after my revision !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[Elle Nora Taylor]

Just the sight of the merest spray of blood from her date’s arm along with the ringing in her ears due to the thunderous gun explosion was enough to make Elle’s vision hazy and her head to whirl like a carnival ride.
How had everything gone from sugar to shit in one fleeting moment? It just wasn’t fair. Here she’d been, floating on cloud nine in imaginary ballet slippers with wings on her heart, having met one of the cleverest, nicest-looking guys in her entire life, and a nasty, out his mind junkie had gone and stolen the moment away like the proverbial thief in the night.
If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, she likely would have stuck out her bottom lip to pout, and stomped her foot like and angry child.

But there was no time for pouting, and no time for useless stomping, and when Curran was twisted around halfway due to the force of the bullet, Elle caught a glimpse of his cobalt eyes. What she saw in them both scared and saddened her. He must have been hurting so much. The wound on his arm was covered by the fabric of his jacket, but before the skin had begun to seal itself around the lesion, crimson had bloomed over the dark material. If Elle could have stolen his pain just then she would have. No, she definitely was no Wonder Woman, and she wasn’t a masochist that enjoyed the presence of pain, but in exchange for Curran not to have to suffer, the lithe blonde would have endured it.

But wait…his eyes…
For a split second the off-duty waitress saw them quiver like two moonlit pools of sapphire liquid, and then suddenly, the gem-blue turned to a beautiful amber color and it drew a gasp from her parted lips.

She was still clinging to the back of his jacket when he twisted around and leapt, the clothing falling away in her clutched fingers as the form of the man took the shape of a mythical creature.
Elle stumbled backwards, her own eyes large and round in bewilderment and shock; a pale hand lifting to her open mouth.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be!
The beast was magnificent, but startling. Silver fur the color of the moon, paws the size of plates with onyx claws that could tear a man to shreds, and eyes like molten lava.
Elle imagined that she had been dreaming all of this, because boys didn’t turn into wolves, and they certainly didn’t ask her out on dates and she’d figured out a long time ago that she wasn’t a princess and her life was no fairytale.

Watching the scene play out with her hand still to her parted lips, Elle tried to shake her head so that she would wake up from the dream. The snarling wolf leapt at the mugger and knocked the gun from his hands, and the human yelled out in terror, while Elle spoke to herself like a mother soothing a child.
“Wake up Elle, you’re going to dream the day away and you know how the roaches like to nibble your toes when you sleep too long.” The blonde clicked her tongue and picked up the forgotten clothing that dream-man had been wearing a moment before he’d transformed into a beast, and brought the material to her nose. Inhaling deeply, her forehead creased when the perfectly intoxicating aroma of his soap and his shampoo, and something rather earthy danced in her nostrils. It smelled so real…

The girl rubbed it across her cheek, and a strangled sound of surprise left her when it felt too real to be a dream.

Blinking in confusion, Elle let her hand drop, as well as the shirt, and let the fingers pause at her opposite wrist.
Okay, just one little pinch, and she was bound to wake up, right? RIGHT?
She squeezed the delicate skin there, soft at first, and then harder, but still the man and wolf remained before her, and she didn’t wake up.

It wasn’t a dream?

The last thing Elle saw was the assailant screaming bloody murder and scooting backwards like a crab before pulling himself up to run away. The lights got brighter for a moment, and then all went black as she fainted; dropping to the frost covered concrete.



♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Her knight in shining armor fur!
Song-- Our Song
Word Count-- 725!

[Curran Aiden Pettelli]

Curran was oblivious to the young woman’s confusion, to the way she was trying to make herself wake up, though the words floated around in his mind for a long while, tugging the wolf inwards and letting Curran take over once more, driving away instinct with reason. Still, as long as he wrestled with the man, snarling as his claws raked the man’s flesh and teeth tore at the material of clothing, Curran was making sure that this man thought twice before he ever thought about mugging another couple in the park, or pulling a gun on seemingly harmless people every again.

For a long moment after the mugger had run away, Curran stood and watched him go, amber eyes very slowly beginning to lighten to the ocean blue of normality, of Curran, as his human from fought back the wolf. He stood on four paws for a long moment, breathing heavily through bared teeth, his hackles raised as his muscles trembled in anticipation of the muggers return. It was only when the mugger was nothing more than a faint sniff on the wind – once he had taken the barrel of the gun in his strong jaws and crushed it, that he turned around and saw Elle on the floor, her eyes closed.

It took only a second for Curran to shift back, to become human once more and leap to her side, his naked flesh white in the moonlight. As he had shift he had called out her name – though it had started as a growl, a snarl, it ended in the concerned voice of Currans tones, strained as the young man checked the girls pulse and her breathing, making sure that she had not been caught by the bullet as it had passed through him. It was with a sigh of relief, and realisation of his nakedness, that he came to the conclusion that she was okay, had only fainted. He moved his jacket under her head, something soft for the pretty blonde who looked so serene in the moonlight, before he found his boxers and jeans in the pile of clothes and pulled them on, should anyone else decide to travel this path tonight. He slipped on his shoes and stood, searching for his shirt – but it was nothing more than a scrap of material now, his claws having ripped through it when he changed.

Still, he thought nothing of it as he carefully picked Elle up. Holding her against his bare chest and started to carry her back towards her motel, stopping only to grab her frilly purse – the one she had so valiantly thrown at their attacker. It made him smile, looking down at her face as they walked, and thinking of the way she had defiantly thrown her purse at him. Though his expression grew troubled somewhat as he walked, taking her back to his apartment above the bookstore, the place closest to where they were now. She wasn’t moving, and he didn’t want her to get cold out in the night. He ran warmer than most, and the cold didn’t bother him so much, but the last thing he wanted was for Elle to get a cold – but his mind wandered to other things as he crossed the distance swiftly. How could he explain to her what had happened? How could he explain his sudden change from man to wolf, without driving her away and from town? What if she told someone... what if some Hunter got wind of him and hunted him down, tracked down his family? Maybe, if he was lucky, she would not remember, or think it a dream. That he could work with, he could spin a story of the mugger and her fainting... and that he had simply brought her back to his apartment to keep her warm and get some food in her – for surely she had not already eaten and it was late. Yes, he thought as he opened the door to his apartment deftly and flicked on the lights. That would work.

Curran took her into the living room and lay on her gently on the overlarge leather sofa, switching on the little gas fire. He was somewhat surprised to find that she had hold of his jacket still, and the young wolf-man smiled, retreating to his room to clean up the blood from his arm and apply a bandage to the wound that was already nearly healed. That at least, would sway questions to that respect.

Hearing her stir, Curran found another shirt, similar to the last, and pulled it over his head, heading back into the living room with the old blanket form his bed, and towards the other end where the small kitchen sat. He flicked on the kettle and went back to her, covering her with the blanket and sitting on the armchair, far enough away to avoid startling her as she swam back to consciousness.

Curran rubbed his head, running his fingers through the fine dark strands – this was going to be interesting.

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TAGGING Elle!
WORDS 843. !
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES Hope you don’t mind! I kinda got a little carried away !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[Elle Nora Taylor]

It had to have all been a dream.
The boy, the mugger, the wolf…
Even now Elle felt as if she was floating and although the air around her was wintery cold, she was so very, very warm. Nuzzling into that warmth the young waitress kept her eyes locked shut, remembering the playful smile of the boy that has certainly been some tempting hallucination. Too bad. He had been so kind and absolutely the most charming man she’d ever met. Of course it couldn’t have been real. She just didn’t have that kind of luck. Customers at the diner, though all in all not too bad, never came back to visit, never over tipped her, and definitely by no means did they leave a lasting tremble in her belly something akin to little dancing pixies throwing a party in there. Even in unconsciousness her pale pink lips curved up at the corner and she let out a soft wistful sigh.

After what felt like ages though in reality it couldn’t have been more than minutes, Elle was laid gently upon a yielding, comfy surface. At first she refused to let her blue eyes open; not wanting to lose the flawless mental image of that mischievous grin and that impish cobalt gaze. She clenched her lids shut and silently implored that the world around her would go away so she could stay sleeping, even though curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. Elle brought her hand up to her face, holding whatever material that was clutched in her palm close enough so she could inhale the earthy aroma, and some how, just that smell made her feel all the more safe.

When a soft blanket was laid over her, the girl could put it off no longer, letting her eyelids flutter open. Elle pulled the covering up to her chin and her eyes, wide and bemused, took in the unfamiliar setting around her.
It was quite nice; this little space, with shelves of books and a balmy fireplace, but she had no idea where she was, which was quite disconcerting. The blonde’s heart was a pounding staccato in her chest and her head was dizzy with confusion.

A quiet sound drew her attention to an armchair across from where she lay, and a strangled sound bubbled up from her throat when her eyes landed on that dream boy with the chocolate hair and sapphire eyes.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” Elle said with mirth in her gaze. “You used me for pie and now you have kidnapped me to a strange, but wonderful place. Any other secrets I should know Curran Pettelli? Do you murder your victims? Cut them into tiny bits to use as dog food?”
The words were serious in nature, but all said with an air of teasing that was hard to miss. So the mugger must not have been a dream after all, but she’d fainted and bumped her head definitely; the only explanation she could fathom for Curran’s transformation from human to creature of the woods.

With a soft moan Elle sat up and pulled her legs underneath, still clutching the jacket but now the duvet in her slender ashen fingers. “Where are we Curran? I don’t remember walking here. Did I hit my head that hard?”
She lifted a hand into her golden ringlets to inspect the damage, but couldn’t find the knot to prove her theory. “Good thing this isn’t a date or I would be awfully embarrassed right now.”




♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Carried her away, quite literally. XD Its fine Boo. You have permission to move Elle when ever you need.
Song-- Our Song
Word Count-- 592!