isolated with you

Smoothing a hand over her hair to chase back those errant strands of honey blonde hair that always tried to escape and get in her mouth, Phoebe hopped up onto a stool at the bar. Nothing like the ones at the club, no tack of the alcohol sticky dance floor clinging to the soles of her boots. No music pounding loud enough to leave her feeling like perhaps she still had a heart beating human rapid in her chest. No press of dancers against her back, leaving the nerves that were still alive under her skin humming.

No Lawrence.

She pressed the tip of her tongue against the sharp edge of her teeth, huffing out her amusement with a breath around it. A few months ago her once dearly departed brother wouldn’t have been a consideration. For decades Lawrence had been her Treasure of the Sierra Madre, her Maltese Falcon, her Big Foot. She’d hoped he was still out there, believed that somewhere he was living a decent life like she’d been. Sheriff Murphy’s wayward brother living his best life, just hovering over the horizon waiting for a reunion. Rumours reaching her in the end, a breadcrumb trail thick enough for her to fumble her way along it to practically stumble over her brother. Her battering ram to work through that sweating mass of a crowd at the Ruby Slipper, solid enough for her to scuttle along in his wake until he’d turned and she’d practically been floored.

Phoebe let out a long breath, the echoes of that ache behind her eyes starting up as she thrust a hand into her purse to retrieve her phone. A brother who was practically within reach at all times now, the one she could send memes to, the one she could drive crazy when she hung out at the end of the bar at the Club until closing. Amused and teasing with sly eyes and sly words until the place started to empty out and she could practically drag him away from the place by his collar. Catch up time in her horror of a dorm room, or at Lawrence’s apartment. Decades melting away like the ice that would freeze over the lake every winter, a thaw of what had kept them apart.

Maybe, she thought with a cluck of her tongue against the room of her mouth, she should’ve headed to the club after her study session, with booze accompaniment to tolerate the discussion of Rawls’ theories of justice. Stay. The plea had rolled out of Joy, at least until her eye had been caught by some young blond who looked like he’d been raised in one of the communes out west. Bleach blonde hair, hazy blue eyes, the reek of avocadoes and mung beans practically rolling off of him. Stay had rapidly turned into a ‘see you tomorrow’ as she’d thrown a few bills down on the table and had bolted like she would tackle hug the poor man before he’d even cleared the doorway. There hadn’t been a shriek as she’d rolled down the stairs off of the pub’s wrap around porch, but, Phoebe thought with a shrewd glance at the drink menu on the bar top, that could’ve just been because Joy had learned to muffle them with a hand over their mouths when she attempted to attach herself now.

A cluck of her tongue against the roof of her mouth and she was waving the bartender over with the menu. Good luck to her if she could actually hold on to one this time, she’d struck out with Raik after all. Satisfaction curled into the smile she aimed at not-Lawrence Cheshire Cat bright. Poor Joy. Poor not-Lawrence. He trailed away looking as though she’d ordered the most malodourous thing on the menu. Maybe, but too late.

Hands working their way back into her hair, she glanced away, watching a group of people around the pool table. A tight little knot, obvious close, maybe even family close. Completely unaware of what the world outside the doors of this little safe haven had to often. It left her stomach knotted just as tight, pulling her back into those blips of memories she’d coached herself to forget, leaving her lost in a world of bitter-nostalgia until the voice babbled out next to her. Excuse me. Manners not unlike Raik’s. Polite, apologetic, that sheepish little smile that had Phoebe looking back at him with a gimlet gaze.

Brows drawing together faintly she studied that sheepish smile for a moment like he was talking Martian rather than merely sweetly and civilly. This. Like it was about to leap up and bite him. She tilted her head, hazel eyes narrowing a moment before her lips curled. ”Not a Blue Whale fan?” she asked, that same sweet edge to her voice. ”You don’t know what you’re missing with your …” There was another glass in front of him, something brown lurking in it. She sniffed subtly, leaning in slightly to get a better look. ”What is that?” A familiar scent but nothing she’d have been caught swilling unless it was the end of the night and even the dusty half bottle of Midori had been drained.

Twisting slightly, Phoebe settled her fingers over the base of the stemmed glass and drew it towards herself, the squint giving way to that curve of a smile again. She dipped her head, closing lips around the straw to take the first freezing mouthful of curacao and citrus vodka. A neon mule kick that warmed even her cold, dead little heart. ”Hi,” she murmured as she came back up. ”Honestly, it looks like the dinner of champions. Going to share?” She lifted her chin towards the fries she didn’t even really want. What would’ve been a treat once upon a time had become a necessity, all the joy of golden fries, crisp and fluff, perfectly doctored with salt drained with that snap of teeth into her throat.

Tagged: TEDDY AARONSON * Word Count: 1001

The earnest ones were always the most interesting to watch. In those isolated years almost immediately after her turning she’d watch them approach the homestead, creeping in with hats in hand as though they were about to disturb her, the flare of their eyes, jaws dropping open when they realised she wasn’t just ‘watching the store’ while her husband was out working the land. The babbled requests for water, a mouthful of food or two if she had it. Men who’d come to work themselves into an early grave in a wilderness struck almost bashful with concern for her. Wheels whirring away behind their eyes with it. Phoebe could practically see it now as she pinned him with her question. It certainly seemed just that side of too wild for him, a white elephant in a town that seemed unprepared for big game – alcohol wise at least.

Phoebe’s smile sharpened as she leaned in, inspecting what he was drinking. A far more subdued caramel brown, less likely to leave the meek of heart dancing on the bar after a single glass. Brown eyes ticked up from his glass to his face with that pitched answer almost squeaking out. She pressed her lips together, not wanting to send his voice into the stratosphere with a laugh. Phoebe hummed instead, lightly tapping her fingers against his glass before she drew back. ”Most Canadian things aren’t,” she informed him with a little weight in her voice. It had been home for more than a century before she’d been nudged out with the encourage to see more, to do more. To find him.

Lawrence might’ve elbowed her, told her to stop bothering the nice man, like somehow something would rub off of her onto him. Nice didn’t keep you going long in this world, it just gave others an opportunity to hack into your life. Was she one of those nebulous others? Perhaps. Sometimes. Not now.

There’d been something softer bubbling up as the frozen blue slush made its way down. Emerging in that quiet little greeting that had him grinning. There was someone with more teeth beneath that shy exterior after all. Phoebe’s own flashed at him as he echoed the greeting back again. ”A man who knows how to share, a rare thing even in Mystic Falls.” In some that selfish little boy need for things to be theirs didn’t fade. ”Thank you.” That twitch of her smile again as he fumbled it sliding the basket between the two of them.

She reached for one, had it halfway to her mouth before he admitted he’d never had fries before. Phoebe let her hand thunk back down lightly against the bar as she stared at him, the fry aimed almost like a weapon. ”Phoebe. You’ve never had fries before? OK, which cave did you crawl out of?” Brown eyes narrowed playfully before she nudged the basket an inch back towards him in encouragement. ”Nobody should hit … adulthood … without at least snarfing a basket or two.” She lifted hers, took a bite out of the end of it. Certainly sheltered then, not so unlike the way her and Lawrence had been until the vampires had split their community wide open, casting them out into a world they hadn’t ever learned much about.

A low rumble of agreement rolled out of Phoebe as she chewed and swallowed. She’d have snagged the bottle of ketchup, added a squirt, but one step at a time with this one. ”It definitely seems you have. Ooooh.” Perhaps more daring than she’d first given him credit for. Tilting her head, she plucked another straw from the container on the bar and plopped it in on his side of the glass. ”Go wild. What else haven’t you tried? You should make it a night of firsts, let me be the devil’s voice on your shoulder, Teddy.” She could almost imagine Lawrence’s sigh but Phoebe pushed it aside. It wasn’t like she was entirely corrupting him, that would’ve been cruel after all.

Tagged: TEDDY AARONSON * Word Count: 672

It was a 21st century thing perhaps. Confidence that only went surface deep, a swagger that lasted until you put a crack in it. Beneath was something as vulnerable and needy as a newborn, squirming violently when it was unearthed. There were few who were confident all the way through, at least at that chest puffing, ego the size of Jupiter sort of way. Rarer still were the ones who had those shells on inside out. The quiet and vulnerable on the outside hiding a spine that few could’ve imagined. Joshua had been none of those things, not exactly. He’d exuded a confidence but it was mild, the sort he probably didn’t realise he had radiating in that warm aura that took the edge of her own that could’ve ended up icy and cold after her expulsion from the pack. His own vulnerability had been that weakness inside him that neither one of them had seen coming.

Phoebe swallowed hard, her mouth flattening for a moment before it was tipping up at the corners at his awkward smile. There were maybe echoes of Joshua there after all, just enough to tug at that thing in her chest that could still play a tune that brought him right back to mind. She tapped her finger just below the rim of her glass, the cold biting for just a split second with each press of her finger against it. Warmth there again in his laughter, another string plucked, a louder hum of that chord before she mentally hushed it.

Reaching for a fry she let herself tumble, deaf to what tricks her mind and that inner tune wanted to play on her. Phoebe aimed it accusingly at him as he admitted to his relative inexperience. Cave wouldn’t have been that far off of where she’d spent her own childhood – just as cold and dark and isolated. She lifted the fry, spreading her hands in the air like she could ward off his description. ”Coming from a place that argued over witch’s tit or brass monkeys every winter, I feel for you,” she crooned lightly. If he kept this up she was going to start asking him for his family tree because each observation out of his mouth carried his childhood closer and closer to her own. Close enough to send a shiver down her spine. ”Sheltered,” she with a bob of her head. ”Awkward and sad.” Agreement there. ”Well, Teddy, this is your chance to break free of all of that.” As being bitten had been her way too.

Oh lord she wouldn’t have wished that on anybody but it had broken that chain shackling her to the coven, even it took all of her power with it. No magic in the fingertips that popped the fry into her mouth anymore, it had been replaced by a hunger the booze and fries wouldn’t take care of for long.

Amusement at his attempt to echo her had Phoebe snorting. She planted an elbow on the bar, her chin caught in the cup of her palm as she watched him stare at the fry for a moment before he bit, chewed and frowned. Her eyes were dark slits, glittering with humour. There he went. She straightened up, nudged his arm as the rest disappeared rapidly. ”Practically a religious experience, hmm? They’re ambrosia, nectar of the Gods and hailed as one of the seven wonders of the world of hangovers. A little grease and starch to soak up all the alcohol. If you want to go wild I’d try a little ketchup, takes it up from wow to practically…” Sparing him his blushes she clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, one eye winking at him. He’d probably flush anyway, the red in bright contrast to the dark curls of his hair.

She’d have pegged him for chickening out on the booze, even if he’d dived straight into the shallow end of bar based delights. Alcohol was the deep end, quite easy to drown in, especially for those who hadn’t learned to paddle – and didn’t have a built in instant detox. Oh well, if he did sink deeper than just merry she’d drag him back out again. ”Good?” Phoebe asked with a chuckle, her brows hitching. ”The sweetness is to distract you from the fact that you’re gonna get stinking rotten drunk on more than a couple of these.” He was obviously a man with taste, rating the pairing in the right way. She have been worried if he’d praised the blue slush any higher than the fries. Perhaps she shouldn’t have encouraged him to mix up the Canadian Club and the slush but if this was his attempt at going wild the hangover of the century come morning would be a small price to pay.

Each suggestion she wrung out of him would be another couple of dollars added to that cost. Layers of misery loaded on. Phoebe made a low sound as he actually went along with it after a moment’s hesitation. ”That’s music to my ears, Teddy,” she warned, in a tone that Lawrence probably could’ve him meant trouble. Eyes on him, she dipped her head to sip at the slush. The heat was growing in him, turning the tips of his ears red in a way that was adorable enough that she had to stop herself from brushing fingers over them. ”Stay at the bar late, get drunk in public,” she echoed right back at him. She looked down at the glass as he nudged it closer to her. Her turn. Phoebe drew in a breath, trailed her fingertip over the side of his finger as she lifted it. ”Find someone to take me home. Are you up for going all the way, Teddy?” There was something stark and bold in her eyes as she lifted his drink and sipped. A hum of contentment as the liquor went down warm. A taste of home setting that nostalgia aflame, probably in the same way she would his cheeks with that offer.

Tagged: TEDDY AARONSON * Word Count: 1011

Was she a corrupting influence? Maybe. It had been whispered a time or two in their sheltered little community, parents chiding after they realised that neither their sons or their daughters were entirely safe around her. Not that she’d done much of the corrupting in those cases. Teenagers were curious and not all of them were going to settle for their parents machinations in good matches and jockeying for positions within the Coven. Phoebe had clucked her tongue against it then. There wasn’t anything corrupt about what she’d been up to anyway – the proof on that had been there when she’d eventually settled in the village and had seen real corruption in the scarlet bloom of fingerprints bruised into a delicate throat, the court that had been willing to let the owner of those fingertips free.

No. She wasn’t a corrupting influence, just a freeing one. It hadn’t even been her intention to do that tonight – Joy had been the one to toss the opportunity in her lap and was by now likely wrapped around her avocado toast loving beach bum in the back of his VW bus.

Then Teddy had wandered into her path. Whiskey eyes full of temptation fixing on him over the rim of his glass, the colour reflected in the Canadian Club. Innocence had clouded him, leaving the ’oh’ popping like a soap bubble. Oh indeed, Teddy. Phoebe’s grin curled, still with that vulpine edge but raw with genuine amusement too. ”All the way to my place, yes, Teddy,” she told him, not going as far as patting his hand like he was a child. Her dorm. Home had become that dorm room and, of late, Lawrence’s apartment. Maybe she’d considered shifting from the campus into town after the blip on her radar that was maybe Lawrence had turned out to be her long lost brother after all. Maybe she should for moments like these when dragging someone into her dorm room with her would only result in a spate of compulsions. Messy for all involved really.

She set his glass down on the bar, wrapped her hands around his to guide them back to his drink, encouraging him to lift it. Drain it. Not even worrying about polishing off the fries before she had him nudged out of the bar. ”Night of firsts,” Phoebe agreed, feeling her stomach twist slightly at the thought. Not a corruptor, eh? She set a hand on his forearm then, not as rake thin as he might’ve appeared, lean muscle under her touch. ”Just the first time you’ve been brought home from a pub by a near stranger? Night of firsts, Teddy.” Phoebe chuckled lightly, her thumb stroking over the hillock of his wrist bones. A hidden strength and a raw honesty she didn’t think the alcohol was entirely to blame for.

Nervy, unfiltered, sweet. A deadly combination if she was the sort to fall.

She’d been worried that he would on the way back to her place. The Pied Piper of Mystic Falls leading her captivated company back to that troublesome dorm. Her arm wrapped in his, her giggle going up every time she had to steady him. Eyes shades lighter than his meeting his, her grin flickering like those lights overhead, fluorescent bright as he blubbered at her. ”It’s the alcohol talking, Teddy, but it’s appreciated.” Her other hand rising to curl around his, squeezing lightly. Too many repeats and a girl might just start believing it though.

Balancing him against her hip as they trailed down the path towards her building, a hand in her purse to retrieve the key card that would get her in the door this late. Oh, it finally struck him that she’d lured him onto campus. ”Don’t worry, I’m legal,” she promised, with a pat of that scruff shadowed cheek. Like Joshua he’d likely be well on the way to a beard by morning. ”You said before,” she said sweetly. ”You are too, Teddy, and not just for worrying. I’m in law school, they don’t let toddlers in there.” Unless they were geniuses, she had the smarts to be one, or, as she’d done, they conned their way through the door.

Phoebe hummed as she tapped her ID to get into the building. Not at this point Teddy. She wasn’t about to go to sleep alone when he had her wanting to bask in those compliments and that comfort blanket of humanity that maybe she’d admit she’d missed to a man who’d likely forget almost all of this by morning. ”You’d leave me to go to bed alone? Nu uh.” Phoebe curled her hands into the front of his shirt, drawing him through the door and into the elevator with her. She drew that comfort blanket around her as the elevator rose to her floor, knowing that in the morning she’d cast it off without a second thought. ”Take me to bed, Teddy,” she breathed in his ear as they shuffled out again. A quiet corridor, thankfully, because compulsion now would be a buzzkill. ”Don’t let me sleep.” Eyes wide, pupils blown by the low light in her room and what he’d sent buzzing beneath her skin, Phoebe towed him into her room. The door shut behind him, Teddy drawn down onto the bed with her, her hands still tangled in him as her mouth finally found his. The heat of liquor and his own innate sweetness blooming on her tongue, more intoxicating than anything blue and slushy could be.

Tagged: TEDDY AARONSON * Word Count: 918