Sat in the living room, Allura had her earphones in, blasting rap music into her skull. She never used to like rap music, but living in a house full of guys was bound to change her.
Danny was sat across the room from her, scribbling away in a notebook with his pencil. He did that a lot. He was one of the nicest guys Allura had ever met – even though he was an assassin. Nevertheless, he was sweet, kind and funny; all the qualities Allura didn’t look for in boys. She preferred the more vicious, aggressive guys that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.
Danny looked up, catching her gaze. He looked down again quickly. Another thing Allura didn’t like in men – shyness. She pulled her headphones out and turned her iPod off. She put it on the table next to her.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Stuff,” he mumbled.
“What kind of stuff?”
“Drawing,” he said, a bit louder, but not by much.
“What you drawing?” she asked.
“You,” he admitted quietly. It wasn’t much more than a whisper.
She smiled and stood up; swinging her legs off the arm of the chair she was slouched on. She walked across the carpet in her socks to look over his shoulder at the notebook in his hands.
Allura grinned. It was a simple drawing with no colour. It was shaded, giving it a 3D effect. She bent down to kiss his cheek.
“It’s really good,” she commented.
She felt someone pulled down her black, pencil skirt a bit. She stood up straight and turned around to see who it was. Spike grinned at her as he lazily dropped onto the three-seater. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Your skirt was a bit high at the back,” he explained. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Allura raised both eyebrows at him as she sat back down in the armchair. She ran her fingers through her silvery hair.
“So, how did it go with Mister Richard Wilson?” Spike asked.
Danny took this as a chance to leave the room; he didn’t like Allura’s methods, no matter how Goddamn effective they were.
“In what way?” Allura replied teasingly.
“So I take it you resorted to your... usual methods then.”
“Is there something wrong with the way I get my job done?”
“No,” Spike smiled, “I’m just jealous.”
“Oh, really?” Allura laughed.
“Mm-hm,” he said by way of agreement. His brown eyes looked her up and down, taking in all her assets.
“My face is here, Spike,” she said. She didn’t actually mind his eyes wandering. In fact, she liked it – loved it even; it was how she did her job.
“I know,” he said, smiling cheekily at her.
She watched him watching her. “All you have to do is ask, you know,” she said, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
He got up off the couch and took her hand, gently pulling up her slight frame. He turned around, taking her with him, and sat down. He pulled her onto his lap. Sat with her legs bent either side of him, Allura moved her face closer to his, letting him make the first move.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her forcefully. That was the type of kiss Allura loved, the dominating, authoritative ones, not the soppy, pathetic ones. In her heart she was slightly masochistic. Perhaps a bit more than ‘slightly’.
As Spike got into the kiss, it deepened, becoming much more powerful and passionate. They were both breathing heavily through their noses. He put his hand on her waist but it wasn’t long before his hands were roaming her body.
Somebody cleared their throat from the doorway. Allura and Spike pulled away from each other, though neither moved very much.
“I’d quite like to keep my dinner in my stomach, Allura,” said Jay disapprovingly, before heading upstairs.
Allura bit her lip, looking at Spike. She wanted to carry on with him. But she was tired. It was about 4 in the morning and she hadn’t slept much. She got up, picked up her iPod and followed Jay upstairs to bed.