: The Edge of her SkinDisclaimer
: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises & The CW Network. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended. Rating
: Weekly Challenge #1 - Weather at Slaying the SupernaturalTeam
: Some spirits are cursed. Walking back roads, waterways, and if they find the unfaithful, they kill them, and that person is never seen again. There is femslash in this story if you do not like such things please do not read.The Edge of her Skin.
Moonlight leaked through the canopy of trees sliding across the edge of her skin and brought it to glittering life. She spun through the fog, bare feet slipping past rocks and over grass, pausing in her dance long enough to hear the rumble of an engine. She stilled, toes curling over the ledge of concrete that separated the road from woods and watched as a gray car slowed, stopped.
Her neck arched, head inclining toward the vehicle as the driver’s door opened and she twisted, allowing the front of her dress to be caught in the glow of the headlights. Felt the whispers of a faint breeze catch the edge of the tears created by the rocks beneath the Centennial Bridge; her skin was smooth beneath the dress, cleansed by the river. Her brows drew low at the bonded female that pulled herself free from the car and she took a step back from the edge of the road.
“Are you alright?”
She dipped her chin, softly curled black hair fell forward to frame her face and she felt the first stirrings of warmth from the woman as she continued to move toward her. “Take me home.”
The driver paused just in front of her car and the headlights filled red hair with enough orange undertones to resemble flames. She frowned and glanced up and down the road before turning back, “Do you need help?”
She bunched her hands into the front of her nightgown and lifted it to expose more of her pale calves as she stepped down onto the road. “I just want to go home.”
Green eyes dipped helplessly down before sliding back up her form and the stare, the look settled her decision as the redhead nodded and opened the passenger door. “Come on, I’ll take you.”
She smiled faintly and moved forward, sliding past the woman and into the seat. Her head tilted as she felt the trail of warm metal over her wrist as she moved to close the door. She glanced up, watched the redhead pull back her hand and saw the charm bracelet filled with silver crosses catch the moonlight. The woman offered a tight-lipped smile before closing the door and moving back around the front to the driver’s side.
The fog seemed to thicken around them as she settled herself behind the wheel and closed the door hard enough to rock the car. She flicked her gaze to the review mirror before turning back to her passenger.
She leaned back against the seat and angled her head, made the moonlight fill her face with light and shadows. “I’m cold.”
Willow blinked, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and hit one of the knobs along the dashboard and twisted the vent toward her to offer more of its warmth. “I should have…”
Pale fingers trailed over the skin exposed at her wrist and green eyes slowly slid over her hand, up her arm to the sleeve of her torn nightgown and across the exposed flesh of her breasts. She inhaled, pushing them against the soft cotton before slowly releasing Willow’s arm.
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“What?” Willow shook her head, drew her gaze up to her face and swallowed. “I mean…what?”
She lowered her head, twisted away from her as if ashamed of the question. She turned, black hair slipping from behind her shoulder as she turned to stare out at the fog. “He didn’t.”
She felt the heat of the redhead’s gaze turn from lust to irritation. “Who didn’t?”
She ignored the question, turned back to Willow. She reached out, lightly trailed fingers across that blushing check. “Take me home.”
Cool fingers dipped to trace her lips, still her protests. “Please.”
Willow swallowed. “Where do you live?”
Her lips lifted, “At the end of Breckenridge Road.”
She shook her head. “I’m not from Jericho. Where’s Breckenridge Road?”
She nodded and pulled back, turned toward the road and eased the car forward through the wispy, low-lying clouds. The leather of the seat groaned beside her and she took her eyes off the darkness stretched before them to glance at the passenger. Her hands bunched the white cotton of her nightgown, sliding it free of the knee closest to Willow. Who stared at the exposed flesh, turned translucent by the soft moonlight and hurriedly shifted her attention forward as it rolled up further uncovering more pale skin.
“How did you end up stranded? It’s not safe to be out alone at night.”
She twisted, turning to face Willow and trailed fingers over her uncovered skin. “I’m not alone. I’m with you.” Willow repressed the urge to look at her when she heard the leather groan again. “Turn here.”
The car complied, rolling off the paved road and onto a dirt one. The headlights illuminated the trees lining a worn driveway that led them further from Centennial Road and any type of civilization. The fog lifted as the lights caught sight of large two-story house in the middle of a large clearing. The car slowed and Willow pushed it into park as she stared at the boarded windows and crooked porch.
“You live here?”
She watched Willow turn her attention from home to her and reached out to trace fingertips across the slope of her cheek and trailed them down her neck to play with the jean collar. The other hand pulled at her shoulder, eased her forward. “I’m so cold.”
She felt the spark of lust flare as her fingers traced Willow’s collarbone, nails settling in the hollow of her throat. Her hand lifted from the warmth of her shoulder to lift her chin. She forced eye contact between them, “Tell me I’m pretty,” her thumb traced Willow’s lower lip. “Take me home.”
“You are home.”
She leaned closer, watched green eyes widen. “Not yet.” She settled her lips over Willows, a soft brush of cold across warmth.
A spark of remorse flickered inside the redhead before it was pushed back and Willow’s hands rose to coil in her hair, pull her closer and deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth; welcomed the first sweep of heated tongue and dropped the hand tracing her throat to slip under the jean jacket. She released her chin and slid the hand to cup the back of her neck, lightly fisting through her hair as the hand beneath the jacket traced the underside of Willow’s breast.
The gasp of approval was swallowed, the last stirrings of remorse doused as she lifted the hand up a shuddering chest, nails lightly catching the distended nipple before it settled over the steady beat of Willow’s heart. She pulled back from the kiss, brushed her mouth from side to side and whispered.
“She loves you.”
Willow’s eyes opened, confusion warring with desire. “What?”
“She’ll miss you.”
The hand settled above her breast sank into her skin and Willow screamed, tried to pull back. She was slammed into the car door, head snapping against the glass hard enough to leave a trail of blood. She pushed deeper, held the beat of Willow’s heart within her hand and crushed it.
Crushed it like Joseph had hers. The End.