hymn for the weekend. [torrence]

Fast asleep in an unfamiliar bed, Perdita wrinkled her nose and twisted her slender body, automatically scooting closer to the warm mass beside her on the mattress. The weak and frosty daylight streamed in through the window and she frowned in her sleep, cracking one eye open and then the other as she realised Torrence's arms were wrapped snugly around her. What was more concerning was the fact that she rather liked it.

Biting her lip, she watched him for a second before gently and carefully untangling herself, shifting slowly as not to wake him. Remnants of the night before were scattered around his Dublin flat - her dress was on the floor, one shoe upside down and she couldn't see the other. His shirt was on the rug and her underwear was hanging provocatively off the headboard. Perdita winced as her bare foot hit the cool floor, quietly dressing herself as she wiggled back into her knickers and her discarded dress to recapture the modesty that she'd long lost.

Looking over her shoulder, she tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Her fingers curled around the edge of the basin as she squinted at her reflection - oh dear. Quickly, Perdita dragged her fingers through her short hair, attempting to work out the kinks and achieve that desirable "bedhead" look but failed. Next, she pinched some colour into her cheeks and her lips before looking around.

Chewing on her lip, she spied Torrence's toothbrush in a tumbler. Shrugging, she picked it up, rinsed it under the tap, added some toothpaste and began to brush her teeth. Perdita then began to snoop, opening and closing drawers quietly as she worked her way through the cabinet, stopping only to snort as she found a box of condoms. Spitting out the toothpaste, she swilled her mouth with some water and not finding anything remotely feminine in his bathroom, used some of his deodorant. It smelled nice, like leather and sandalwood.

The bathroom door closed gently behind her as she picked her way to the bed, just admiring him as he slept. Torrence Regan was a royal pain in her backside but when he was unconscious, he was actually sort of cute. She almost made it across his bedroom but her toe got caught in the belt loop of his jeans and she stumbled.

"Ow," Perdita hissed under her breath as she scowled, hopping on the spot angrily as she nursed her stubbed toe. Then something caught her eye. A slip of paper had fallen out of the pocket and intrigued, she picked it up. It was the receipt from their dinner the night before and Perdita flipped it over in her hands and she stopped suddenly.

On the back of it, there was a name and a number, written in looped handwriting in black pen and signed with a heart. Perdita swallowed and forced herself to relax, looking up at his sleeping figure as she let a wave of anger, jealousy and humiliation wash over her. They'd had a really nice night - or so she thought. They'd dined at a fancy place on the dockside, dark and moody with expensive food and well mixed drinks. It was low lit with classy Christmas decorations, cosy, luxe.  Torrence had been attentive, they'd even played footsie under the table. They hadn't left each other's sides all night, except for when she'd gone to the bathroom.

"Oh," Perdita whispered as realisation dawned. Silly her, thinking he'd bought her dinner because he wanted to spend time with her. But no. He was hitting on other women the moment she was out of sight. She laughed softly as she tilted her head back, scrunching up the little bit of paper and held it tightly in her clenched fist. Folding her plump lips into a thin line, she nodded, a hand tangled in her hair. Oh she was so stupid. So stupid. Now she was mad. How dumb was she? She needed a better taste in men. More fool her.

The tall witch picked up a cushion that had fallen off the bed and hurled it at Torrence with all her might, not caring if she'd interrupted him in the middle of his dreams about Jenny. Perdita struggled to picture the woman. Had she been another customer or their waitress? She felt hot and then cold as the embarrassment bubbled up. Perdita lobbed another pillow at him, harder this time, her cheeks pink as he groggily woke up. "Who the fuck is Jenny?"


@Torrence Regan

Torrdita

It was fucking early. That’s all he knew as he felt the mattress shift and the warmth of Red being tucked into his side disappeared. He grumbled and reached out a hand across the bed, but only touched cool sheets. The snick of the bathroom door sounded and seconds later, he was drifting back to sleep.

That was until something hit him in the face. He woke with a jolt, confused with sleep still fuzzing his mind as he blinked a few times trying to figure out what the hell— and that’s when another pillow hit his face before he could even lift an arm to stop it.

“What the hell, Red,” he growled as he shoved the pillows away from him, gravel in his voice and he glared at her from where he was sitting up in bed, the sheets around his hips, but nothing underneath as per his usual sleeping habits. His hair was a mess and not the artful, rumpled look he usually went for, just a straight mess, sticking up oddly, flat on one side.

Torr wasn’t much of a morning person and wasn’t really awake until after at least one cup of tea so when  she started shouting about ‘Jenny’ he honestly had no clue what the hell she was blathering about. Or why it was so important to wake him up like that. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, irritation at being woken up like that an instinct he couldn’t hold back. He ran a hand through his hair as he finally noticed something.

She was dressed. Already. He rose a single brow. “Going somewhere?”

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she stared at him, her cheeks pink, her fingers itching to pick something else up and hurl it at him. There was a wave of sick pleasure that washed over her to see him finally wake up - she hoped the pillow hurt. Distracted momentarily as his sheet slipped, she shook her head. Perdita didn't think she was overreacting.

When questioned, her long legs strode over to him before she slapped the receipt against his chest rudely. "Do you think that was funny?" Perdita asked as she rounded on him, realising that she sounded every inch the jealous girlfriend. She stared at him for a moment. His hair was sticking up and looked oddly endearing like a newborn chick, and she was torn between throwing another pillow and throwing herself back into bed with him. She opted for the former and put some distance between them as she looked around for her missing shoe.

"You weren't even clever enough to bin it," Perdy tutted darky as she gestured to the receipt which may (or may not) have shown his transgression. More than anything else, she was embarrassed. "I know you're sleeping with other women," Perdita began patiently as she dropped to her knees to look under his bed to find her left shoe and let out a grunt of frustration as she came up lacking. "But I thought you respected me enough not to flaunt them in my face when I'm sitting right there."

On her feet again, she tucked her hair behind her ears as she debated whether to dutifully collect her belongings, never to return, or forsake them and make a grand exit. "Home," she told Torrence, nonplussed, as she pointed to the door. "I'm not going to stick around and be laughed at twice in a twenty four hour period," she added sarcastically. "If you find anything of mine, just stick it in the post for me." And to think she was actually going to make breakfast.

She came closer and Torr tilted his head back a little to look at her, her dark hair in waves around her face, pretty even in her fury. Pretty even though it was fucking annoying to have her shouting at him this early in the morning without even knowing what the hell she was— Her hand slapped against his chest and he grabbed at her wrist, almost wanting her to dig in her nails the way he liked but she was pulling away a second later. He allowed it because it was then that he noticed the paper she had pushed at him. Torr frowned as he picked it up between two fingers from where it had fluttered to the sheet and then noticed the looping handwriting on the back.

Ah, he had completely forgotten about that from last night. Various emotions rolled through him, one flickering across his face right after the other and he looked back at her, swiping another pillow away that she tried to throw at him. “Stop that,” he hissed, his irritation winning out.

“So you went snooping and now you think I have to explain myself?” he threw back at her. Torr was pretty sure that had been tucked into a pocket, not ‘flaunting’ it. And her words pricked at something deeper in him and he gave her a look that was both patronizing laced with the need to needle her just as she did him. “I never made you any promises, Perdita,” he reminded her, feeling defensive because of her insults, her assumptions even if they were accurate, his expression hardening.

“Besides what does it matter if I am,” he threw back at her, his words louder now as his irritation turned to anger. “It’s not like your one to judge,” he snapped with a glance up and down her lithe body. Her reputation wasn’t that much cleaner than his. And she had to have known exactly what she was signing up for with him in the first place. It wasn’t his fault if women were always expecting more than he had to give. Than he wanted to give.

Torr laughed at her just for spite, his cobalt blue eyes frosty. “You’re crazy if you think I would owl any of your shit,” he said with a callous grin. He guessed he wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, they were always up and down the two of them but they always found a way back to each other, or he usually showed up unannounced on her stoop, before anyone really needed to owl anything back. Maybe it had been going too well between them for it to last. Maybe he should’ve been expecting a fight like this sooner rather than later.

Her eyes widened as she stood still. "I beg your pardon?" Perdita answered him quickly, her eyebrows raising so high that they almost disappeared into her hairline. Unable to help herself, she scoffed derisively. "I was not snooping," she corrected Torrence, arms crossed over her chest. "I tripped over your stupid jeans and it fell out onto the floor," she explained with a toss of her hair before she faced him, her expression stony. "Why did you feel the need to hide it?"

She rolled her bright blue eyes with another laugh, as though any of this was even remotely funny. "Get over yourself," she snapped at Torrence with a shake of her head. "Don't treat me like a child. You're only backtracking because you got caught." But the use of her actual name made her falter, a flicker of surprise and disappointment on her face as she forced herself to swallow. A niggle of panic made her skin crawl.  Torrence wasn't letting her get a word in and the onslaught continued.

Perdita flinched as though she'd been slapped. Stunned into silence, her jaw dropped. An ugly feeling of anger and unfairness bubbled in the pit of her stomach as her nails dug into her skin to leave little crescent moon shaped marks. Something inside of her snapped. "How dare you," she countered, hating the way he looked at her and her body's response to cover herself up. Her cheeks flamed red at the injustice and all she wanted to do was smash something.

Of course, he had a point. Torrence wasn't the only man she was sleeping with but this felt different. Perdita felt wronged but more than that, she was ashamed that she'd let herself get caught up in this, in him. How had she been so stupid? She was floundering and she hated not having the advantage.

"Fine," she said stiffly as her eyes narrowed, dropping her arms to her side as she turned her back on him. "Keep it," Perdita added as she stomped around his bedroom, snatching her scarf off the floor to wind it angrily around her neck. "Give them to the next poor soul who ends up sneaking out of here before breakfast." Her mother was a petty queen and Perdy would carry on her legacy.

She turned back around to face Torrence, her cheeks still pink as she folded her lips together. "I feel sorry for you," Perdita announced.  "You're a dickhead, did you know that?" She asked him as she shifted her weight to fasten her earring to her left lobe. "You're going to end up alone," she stated as she shrugged on her coat, not caring if she had to apparate back to London in her bare feet. "It's nothing less than you deserve."

"I wasn't hiding it at all," he threw back at her, equally defensive. And then tacked on, just to be mean, just because he hoped it would irritate her. "I was actually going to owl her right after you left." Not that that was true, at least he hadn't thought so last night when the girl had slipped him the paper. She had had a nice ass, and he had appreciated the way she swung her hips as she left, probably knowing he was watching, but he had been almost.. disinterested? He hadn't even wanted to dive deep into the why of that shit so he didn't really appreciate her dredging all of that up right now. Shit, it was so early.

The look of hurt on her face, the flinch as it he had touched her, made a flicker of feeling run through him and he almost wanted to take it back. But then again, it was the truth. "How dare I?" he scoffed, his featured rearranging into patronizing amusement. "Pot, meet kettle," he said with a gesture between them. They had no promises, no agreement, no commitment. So why was she losing her fucking mind over a piece of paper?

He tracked her with dark eyes as she stomped around his bedroom and he shifted, leaning over to swipe his boxers from the floor where he had peeled them off in a hurry last night. He stood, his body stiff from sleep, thinking it was smart not to have his jewels out there in the open when she seemed so.. unpredictable.

Torr crossed his arms in front of him as he narrowed his gaze, anger at her insults, irritation at her so-called pity rolling through him. "Didn't seem to mind my dickheadedness last night though, did you?" he threw back at her, wanting to needle her as much as she was needling him, wanting to hurt as much as she was hurting him. Not that he'd ever admit that. "So this is all because of one girl flirted with me at dinner?" he asked, as he grabbed something off the floor and moved around so that he was standing in front of his bedroom door.

"You seem to like to make sure I'm not alone.. several nights this week, in fact, if I recall correctly..." he added before bringing his hand up and twirling her wand lazily between his fingers. She couldn't apparate away like she did the day she got out of the tattoo and he wasn't letting her go that easy with him standing in front of the door, the cool press of the wood against his back. If she wanted a fight and had wanted to win, she should have picked someone else.

"Oh!" She laughed without any humour, her bright eyes wide. "Then accept my apologies," Perdita went on, a hand on her chest as she expressed insincere gratitude. "Sorry for staying so long," she snapped back. "But look at it this way. At least she can take my place," she snarled, feeling her cheeks flame red and her grip on her temper becoming fragile. She loathed this. She hated losing control and for what? A guy with a wicked grin and a leather jacket? She needed to get a grip. Fast.

Her brain was spinning. Perdita hadn't fixed her face fast enough to conceal her upset. "Oh fuck right off," she said tersely as she rolled her eyes. "You and I are nothing alike," she told Torrence swiftly, a bubbling of something in her gut was making her feel queasy. He was right, though. No commitment, no agreement. They'd been doing this for years and this was the closest thing she'd had to a steady relationship, so how bad did that look on her? He was free to do as he pleased - he knew that, she knew that - but what she didn't know was why finding that girl's name was tipping her over the edge.

Perdy scoffed sharply as she turned her back on him, pulling her scarf with more force than was necessary. "You're less of a dickhead when you've got your hands on my arse," she corrected him because yes, she didn't mind Torrence's behaviour as long as he was behaving as she liked it.

"No!" Perdita screamed in pent up frustration, the noise ricocheting off his bedroom walls. "Yes," she changed her mind. "No," she changed it back. "I don't know," she settled on as she began to pace across the floor, a hand tangled in her hair so tightly, her knuckles turned white as she let out a small noise of agitation. Eventually, she turned to face him, her eyes wide and the remainder of last night's eyeliner smudged, making her look much younger in the weak sunlight.

"You don't get it," she breathed out on a sigh. "You can sleep with whomever you want," she turned her back again, preoccupied with looking for her hairbrush. "But you don't need to do it in front of my fucking face," she countered. "I thought you respected me enough to at least get through dinner without getting distracted." It was petty and it was silly but it hurt, deeper than she thought it would. She wasn't naive. The women he was sleeping with were always kept at arm's length, so much so that Perdy forgot they existed sometimes. Then they all came screaming back, like this morning. Torrence was a handsome man, he was seeing other women but Perdita had confronted the fact head on and she didn't like it - she was jealous.

Perdita set her jaw, hating to be proved wrong as she watched him walk around her, her gaze dropping to his hands as she made a snatch for her wand. Missing it, she let out a strangled screech of frustration as she stomped her left food on the floor like a petulant child.

"That was last week. Move!" She demanded as she squared up to him, despite Torrence being half a foot taller than her. With her hands out, she shoved his chest, quickly dropping her hand as she felt for the handle and attempted to pull it, weaving and dodging as she tried to somehow squeeze herself between him and his bedroom door. "If I disgust you as much as I apparently do," she grunted as she shoved him, still trying the door handle in vain. "Let me go."

"Yeah, well at least she probably won't go mental over nothing," he snapped right back at her, trading insults as fast as she was throwing them. He couldn't help it. It was instinct and she started it anyway. But it was his turn to give her a humorless laugh, derision clear on his face. "Nothing alike? So you aren't sleeping with whatever guys you fancy whenever it suits you? Should I make a list, Miss Bloom?" Not that he would admit how he knew the names.. or how much it irritated him to think of her with other guys.

He raised a brow at her and smirked. Was that the solution then? She was just looking for a little morning pick me up with his dick? He took a step closer, his cobalt blue eyes gleaming, as he said, "That could be arranged.." looking at the pert arse she had so artfully mentioned. But then she was shrieking, and changing her mind every other second, and he frowned at her as she paced. "Red.." he said as he tried to reach out a hand, it sliding down her forearm before it slid off as she paced in the opposite direction.

"I wasn't doing anything in your fucking face," Torr spat back at her. "What was I supposed to do, hmm? What would have been acceptable behavior?" he asked, as if he would have listened anyway even if she told him. "She came up to me at the table while I was waiting for you in the restroom. I tucked it into my pocket so you wouldn't be upset, so you wouldn't see it. It's not a big fucking deal," he added, leaving out the fact that he had flirted right back with her while Perdy was in the restroom. Details she didn't need to know really.

But it seemed she was beyond reason and Torr was definitely above walking the high road. So as she tried to snatch for her wand, he avoided her reach easily then raised his brows as she pushed at him and got physical, trying to get to the door. He trapped her between his body and the door easily, pressing into her hard as he tried to grab at her wrists to stop her from hitting him even though he kind of liked it. "So you don't like me this week? That's not what you were screaming last night," he said against her ear as he pressed himself further into her, playing with her, not wanting to let her go simply because that's what she wanted to do. "Beg me like you did last night and I might let you go."

Perdita fell silent for a moment. It was unsurprising that Torrence was invalidating her feelings but very surprising to find that she cared so much. She sighed heavily, the action ruffling her fringe as she set her hands on her hips as though she was growing tired. "How many people do you think I'm sleeping with, Torrence?" She asked him clearly, her eyebrows raised as she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "A ball park figure. Because I'm fairly sure it's considerably less than you are," she concluded darkly. If he wanted to play dirty, then fine. He wanted numbers, statistics, time stamps? Great.

She set her jaw as she wrung her hands together, her annoyance rising because she was overreacting and she was making things worse but she was in too deep to back down now. "Don't," she hissed at him, familiar goosebumps rising on her arm as he touched her. She didn't want his sympathy or his apology. She wanted - needed - him to be angry with her so she could blow up like a spectacular firework and blame it on retaliation.

"Oh, I don't know!" Perdy replied in a high pitched voice, her eyes wide and her hands in the air. "How about maybe not making eyes at the waitress in the three minutes I was gone from the table?" She asked with a laugh, that only got louder at his next statement, verging on maniacal. "So this is my fault?" She asked Torrence, her smile not reaching her eyes, her pretty face suddenly stony. "I can't go and powder my nose because you have no self-control? Behave yourself," she snorted with a shake of her head. "No, you're right," she agreed, hands up in front of her, palms outwards. "It's no big deal at all."

"Oof! Christ," Perdita complained as she was flat against the wall and Torrence was crowding her space, feeling winded as she let out a cough. She couldn't breathe and he was pressing harder, causing her slender body to shift and contort into an uncomfortable position. Her wrists were shackled and she panted, her chest rising and falling thinly as she glared at him, shifting, annoyed at her body betraying her in such a way.

"Yeah? And what lies was I telling you last night?" She asked Torrence innocently as her eyelids flickered closed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention as she curled her fingers into fists. He was stoking the fire, poking and prodding where he really ought not to be. There were only two ways to beat him at his own game - concede or stoop to his level. She turned her head, bumping her nose against his as she faced him, barely an inch between, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin, the fight seemingly knocked out of her. There was a moment of stillness as her eyes dropped to his mouth before back up to meet his gaze. "Please," she said simply.

"What, you think I keep count?" he scoffed with derision, giving her a patronizing look. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't going to come anywhere close to talking about all the guys he was sure she was seeing when he wasn't around. He was pretty sure he'd punch a hole through the wall. And yet, he also hated this fucking conversation in general. Why did women always think they needed to cage him in and tie him down. He hated the feeling. Felt like she was trying to pin him under her stiletto heel and while he didn't mind bottoming sometimes in bed, it was vastly different when it came to commitment.

Torr's jaw tightened and a muscle ticked as she pulled away from him and told him not to touch her. It made him want to haul her into his arms. To kiss her hard just so she would stop screaming like a banshee. It was almost like.. she wanted to fight. That thought clicked and he recognized it as something he often craved for reasons he couldn't even decipher. "Look at you being all petty over nothing," he threw back at her. If she wanted to fight, he knew just want buttons to push. "It's not myfault she came up to me. Besides, it's not as if you haven't flirted right in front of me," he growled, thinking of Riley fucking White and how he still hated the bloke.

But damn she was strong for being so petite. He was breathing hard with her, his body wired as he caged her in against the door, spelling the vanilla scent of her shampoo, her hair against his cheek before she looked up at him and he was caught in those icy blues like usual, spellbound. They shared the same breath for moments, a roar and an exhale of energy all in one quiet moment as he watched her gaze flicker to his lips.

That one word nearly undid him.

He liked when she begged. He grinned at her and released one of her wrists, touching her chin with his thumb and forefinger as he hovered above her lips. "Next time you want to fight, let's do it in bed, love," he whispered to her before he kissed her hard, thinking victory was his.

"It looks like you do," she told him serenely. If he was going to throw around accusations so carelessly, he needed to be able to back them up. "Got a tally running?" Perdita asked with a smile, head tilted as she watched him. A small part of her liked this, liked seeing him come apart at the seams. It was cruel and unfair and needless but in the back of her mind, she saw this coming. It was only a matter of time.

Her eyebrows were raised again as she nodded eagerly. "Sure," she replied, seemingly to agree with Torrence. "You just sat there, completely innocent, your eyes glued to the wine list," Perdy went on, making a mountain out of a molehill. Torr didn't need to confirm or deny his actions because she'd already decided they'd happened. "You're not the innocent party," she told him darkly, only to be stopped in her tracks.

"What?" She snapped, her pretty face creasing in confusion because she had no idea who she could have flirted with, her blood pumping with irritation, before the penny dropped - and she grinned. "That was over eighteen months ago," she reminded him calmly, her lips pursed and looking smug. After spending time with Riley, he wasn't  much of a conversationalist. All he wanted to talk about was his training regime and how many calories he needed to eat, but Torrence didn't know that.

"He's a great kisser," she lied, twisting the knife deeper. "And besides," she added with a careless shrug. "You and I were not on a date," she reminded Torrence, thinking back to that boxing match. "I never made you any promises, Torrence," she told him, using his previous words against him, her face stony as she flicked her eyes over his. It was a pathetically low blow but unfortunately for him, she was not against stooping to a much lower level. It made a flicker of hot, dark satisfaction shimmer through her and she knew she should be disappointed in her behaviour but the guilt never arrived.

Torrence continued to close whatever space was left between them and she gave a grunt of annoyance but it seemed to do the trick. He let one of her wrists go and she dropped it to her side, using her newly found leverage to attempt to escape before he held her face and she scowled. Next time, he'd said, like she was ever going to be in this position again.

On her tiptoes, she kissed him back, letting out a hiss of pain as the back of her head collided with the door. Her free hand was on his chest, her fingertips pressing into his skin before they went to his hair. There was a very thin line between love and hate and she could never figure out how she felt about him. Her leg outstretched to loop itself around the back of one of his calf muscles, dragging him even closer to her.

"Stop," Perdita told him between kisses, despite continuing to kiss him. "You can't kiss me and think that everything is alright," she whispered before she looped her arm around his neck and deepened the embrace, pausing to bite his lower lip. In his distraction, she wrenched her other hand free of his grip and shoved him back roughly, her cheeks pink and her lips feeling bruised as she panted, struggling as finger reached up to touch her mouth. "I'm not doing this," she said quickly, more to herself than him.

He shook his head at her in disbelief, sucking on his teeth, feeling like he wanted to spit. "Always gotta paint me as the bad guy, don't you? You weren't even there and you just assume I was the one to what, beckon her over and ask her to hit on me since I couldn't go without attention for five seconds?" he spit the words at her. Torr looked down at her, his eyes cold and hard. She wasn't the first one to pit him as the bad guy and normally he didn't mind, normally girls like Red liked it. Except when they wanted to make a fucking point and then, suddenly, it didn't suit their narrative anymore, it suddenly was a negative to use against him instead of something that had appealed to them.

That grin though grated at his patience, what little he had left. He could still see Riley fucking White's smug face as she flirted with him. Right in front of him, trying to rile him, distract him. He didn't even want to admit that it had worked. His gut twisted as she mentioned he was a good kisser and he balled his fists before placing hands on either side of her head. "So which is it, Red? You want promises or you don't because it seems to me like you can't make up your fucking mind," he growled, his whole body taut with tension and ire.

But just like always in the next moment, their lips were fused, his slanting over hers again and again, their bodies tangling, arching his body into hers as she twined around him. He heard her whispered word, but he didn't stop because like with every other woman he had ever met, she said one thing and her body said another. Torr just happened to be really good at listening to the latter. He ran his hands over her backside before growling as she bite his lip, hard. And then shoved him back, hard. He had to take a step back to regain his balance as he brought up a finger to touch his lip, almost expecting to see blood there. Her eyes looked just as wild as his felt even as she tried to deny him, deny herself. "And why not? You want it," he said taunting her.

"When have you been the good guy?" Perdita asked, perplexed. She blinked. "You leaned into it," she reminded him, her eyebrows arched. He wore black leather, tattoos covering his skin, he smoked, he drank, he didn't keep his word. "You're not exactly someone I could take home to my mother," she added, needlessly mean. He wouldn't want to go, anyway.

Torrence had flipped the switch. Perdy didn't think she was scared but she hated the way he was looking at her. Without meaning to, she recoiled as far as she could go, swallowing nervously. This was getting out of hand. "Why does it matter?" She asked softly, finding the strength from somewhere to muster up the courage to look him dead in the eye. "You'd break them," she countered.

"It didn't matter if you made them to me or anyone else. You just don't care," she frowned. Was this what she'd become? Was she so desperate to be loved that she'd take any scrap of attention thrown her way, like a stray dog? Quickly, Perdita looked away, unhappy with her thoughts but she might as well keep doing. This seemed like a big argument. If she didn't see him again, she may as well be honest.

"Would it --" she trailed off, her eyebrows coming down in a furrow. "Would it be so bad to take me out on a date?" She asked Torrence gently. "Take the time to get to know me. Properly. Rather than turning up at midnight and leaving soon after," she admitted, uncomfortable as she shifted. "But I know," she said, holding a hand up to stop him. "It's not what you signed up for. And I'm overreacting and trying to "trap you"," she added with air quotes and rolled her eyes. "But we've been doing this for ages," Perdy said, sounding tired. "Why didn't you just call it quits?"

The bite had worked and the space that opened up let her breathe, her cheeks flaming red with exertion before she shook her head. "What I want is to clear my head," she said simply as she moved, finally spotting her missing shoe before hastily shoving past Torrence and slipping her foot into it. "I don't want this," she admitted, gesturing between them. Taking a steady breath, she looked up at his face. "You make me sad sometimes," she told Torrence plainly, adding a shrug to show it was just a fact, nothing deep, nothing intense, just how it was. She gave a curt bob of her head, her short hair swinging in response as she clasped her hands together before she shrugged. "So, yeah."

"So what if I did? It's exactly what you expected of me anyway. You wanted it, you got it, don't go making it seem like it's my fault now for you changing your mind every five seconds," he argued right back. For as long as he could remember, people had wanted to see him as the bad boy and sure, he liked that moniker, sure, he had leaned into it. But it was a street that goes both ways. Most people only saw what they wanted to and her judgey little opinions of what and who he should be grated against every fiber of his being. He narrowed his eyes at her, but smirked, his eyes still cold. "I was just with your mother last weekend. She didn't mention anything," he lied baldly, his tone full of innuendo, hoping to rile her just as much as she was doing to him.

You'd break them. Well damn, if that wasn't the truth coming up to slap him in the ass. He knew she was right and still he said, "I might not." Even Torr knew he had no business saying that. He didn't even know if he wanted to make her promises. And why should he when she was being a right witch about everything.

Torr wasn't exactly one to let someone speak without having something to say right back so every sentence she uttered, every bit she tacked on, he interjected with his own defenses. "A date? We go on plenty of dates-- Leaving? I'm the one who always stays over, you're the one that was trying to sneak-- Yeh, actually, you are. Trap me into something that I don't even want just because you're jealous of some fucking girl whose name I don't even remember--" but he quieted real quick when she said she wanted to call it quits. Yeah right. Mhm sure. He was familiar with this card with other girls like Perdita who wanted move than he had to give. He wasn't a stranger to ultimatums. He put his hands on his hips as he laughed lowly, no humor in the tone, just cold laughter rattling in his chest.

"Sad?" he repeated incredulously as he reached out as she passed him and grabbed her arm. He didn't believe it for a second. Perdita like drama and battles and attention and he knew this was just her new way of expressing it. "Not the impression you give whenever you're with me. More like begging, pleading for more, so yeah," he said repeating her little phrase with a cock of his head as he looked down at her. "I don't believe you and your fucking ultimatum is bullshit."

She blinked at him. Torrence had a point - she had liked that she thought he was the archetypal bad boy. Why? Because he was dangerous. Edgy. Moody. Mysterious. So unlike the men she'd known before him who were too polite, boring conversationalists, stuck up and stuffy. Torrence was a breath of fresh air. She'd liked it and she'd walked into this knowing full well what to expect. She frowned at him, uncomfortable with his accusations being a bit too correct. If he had been a "good" guy, would she have liked him so much?

"I didn't change my mind," she told him gently, her shoulders back definitely before she burst into laughter. "What are you? Twelve?" Perdita asked with a roll of her eyes, forcing herself to bite down on her lower lip to stop herself retaliating. As satisfying as it would be to stoop to his level, she couldn't quite manage it.

She grinned at him lopsidedly. "You're a fucking liar," she accused him, her eyes bright and her face smug. She had him bang to rights and he was faltering. "I could be the prettiest woman in the entire world," she went on as she spun in a circle. "The cleverest, the funniest, the sweetest but you still wouldn't make a promise. You need to grow up," she spat at him. "You're not a teenager any more, Torrence. Stop acting like one."

She laughed again, more out of exasperation than humour. "Asking me if I want something to eat after we're finished shagging doesn't really qualify as a date," she reminded him patiently as she held her breath, trying to force the anger back down. "I was about to make you breakfast," Perdy stated. "That's why I was "sneaking" off and oh!" She yelled, her hands in the air as she resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. "You don't want this?" She pressed him, eyebrows arched. "End it," she goaded him. "Do me a favour and just go," she snarled, his laughter prodding the sides of her mounting ire. She couldn't get the waitress' face out of her mind.

She faltered. Torrence was laughing at her as she tried to explain how she was feeling and instantly, she changed tacks. She shut down, a metaphorical door slamming shut. If she as going to be a villain, she might as well be a rude one. "Behave," she warned him, letting out a yelp of pain as he gripped her arm, trying in vain to shrug it off. "So what?" The brunette began, her eyebrows arched. "I'm not ashamed of what we do," she told him plainly, amused in thinking that she'd be offended by what happened in the bedroom.

Perdita tilted her head back and looked up at Torrence, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted, a moment of stillness between them; she was going to call his bluff. She wasn't sad now but she certainly was livid. "Okay," she whispered as she peeled his fingers off her arm to take a step back, ignoring how her skin felt aflame. "Then I'll decide for you," she went on, looking at him briefly, with his wild eyes and tattoos and a deep loathing for her.

"We're done," she announced, her hands out by her sides as though she had no other choice. "How's that for not believing me?" Perdita asked him as she snatched her bag from the floor and turned in a tight circle, gipping the bedroom door handle and slamming it shut behind her with such force, it rattled on its hinges.