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Cadence is tired.
It's two AM, she needs to sleep, even if she doesn't really have plans for tomorrow. Why is it always like that? Dead tired all the time, working nine to five, and still get insomnia as a reward on weekends… ugh.
Just lie here, looking into the darkness, and pretend to be asleep. Fool yourself into that. Rest.
She looks at the thin line of light coming through the window. Moving from wall to wall and then fading away. A car. Cadence sighs. She grabs her phone.
Fuck it. The ceiling isn't gonna be more interesting than that. She squints as the screen lightens, too bright for her eyes. Maybe music will help her sleep? Or one of those techniques that Dove sends her links to? Cadence looks at the screen, her thumb ready to type the password. But she hesitates. There's a notification, a new message. She blinks a few times. It's from him. As if she didn't have all her own problems! That shitfuck. Oh, she would absolutely not give him the pleasure of attention. She will ignore it. Block him, maybe.
But her eyes catch a few words anyway.
"Come and fuck me"
Her thoughts freeze for a moment. What the hell? Cadence looks at the words, holding her phone as if it was a snake trying to bite her. No, really, what the actual fuck? Oh, great. Now she doesn't want to sleep at all.
"Pleaes" It says on the screen, among a few dozens of other messages from him. "I need tht. . Now"
"Come and fuck me"
His spelling is as bad as it is possible for a human being. Cadence blinks slowly, suddenly understanding.
He is drunk. So fucking drunk that he perhaps didn't even know who he is typing to. Oh, she's going to have fun with that in the morning. Maybe. But she took a screenshot anyway.
"I knw u reading"
Fuck.
Her phone vibrates. He is calling her.
Fuck!
She sits in her bed, too fast — Cadence understands her mistake at the very moment her finger touches the green button.
The room is silent for a second.
"Hello?" Croaky voice sounds from the phone. "You there?"
"The hell do you want from me?" Cadence snaps. "Is it some kind of a prank?"
"I want," he says slowly, struggling to remember words, "door opened."
Okay, maybe that's fun. A little bit.
"What?" She asks.
"Cold."
She isn't sure what she heard. The meaning of this. Was he.. outside? Drunk, on the street? Suddenly she wants to know where exactly he is, even if just to call the cops on him. Absolutely not because he can try to sleep on a road and freeze to death.
But at this point she wouldn't be surprised even if he somehow closed himself in his own fridge. Still not good.
"Open?" His voice sounds hopeful.
"Look, I don't even know where you are, let alone what door you want me to open, so…"
Yes, he is a bad guy, but is it a reason to let him put himself in danger? A few years ago, yeah, she absolutely would let him finish himself like that. But now? She'll be even worse than him if she did that. That new world teached her a few things.
Negligence is absolutely disgusting.
"What you mean don't know? I'm here!" He sounds confident, like it would explain everything to her.
Cadence stands up and turns on the light. She presses the phone to her ear with her shoulder, slowly scrambling for her pants.
"Where is here?"
It starts to anger her. Maybe it's really better to just let him be.
"Close to you."
Okay. First things first it's creepy as fuck. Second — it doesn't help even a bit.
"You moron, I can't—"
Doorbell rings.
Cadence stands shocked a little. No. A lot. She breathes in and out a few times and goes into the corridor. That's better be a coincidence. She's still thinking that it's some kind of a deliberate prank. Wicked , very, very inappropriate prank. That she would get confetti flying in her face at the very moment she opens the door.
Phone stays silent all the time it takes her to walk to the door and unlock it.
Cadence looks at the figure standing there, swaying a little. A very familiar, very blue figure. She ends the call.
"Hi. Move." He sounds even more drunk in person.
Necrodancer waves awkwardly and steps inside, ignoring every emotion on Cadence's face as he walks past her. At least he closed the door behind him.
"And may i ask what the actual fuck are you doing here?"
He opens and closes his mouth, frowns, thinking about something. Then puts his fingers in the vase that was peacefully standing on a shelf nearby and rubs his face with wet palm.
"Oh, that's better." He smirks, showing sharp teeth. "Figured you didn't know where I live, so I came to your place instead."
As if it was some kind of detoxing potion, not just water in that vase. Cadence side-eyes the vase briefly and then glares at him. So those messages were really for her. Fucking great. She swears she would kill that drunk asshole if he wasn't looking so miserable right now. No wonder he feels cold, man's got only a t-shirt and shorts that don't even cover the ankle.
"Um," she clears her throat, "and what do you expect from me?"
Necrodancer looks right in her eyes. "I want you to fuck me." And, without a pause, he is walking past her.
Cadence's brain just shortcuts, as she dumbly follows him. Reading that is one thing, but actually hearing? Looking in those red eyes, that smug face and listening as the most heartless bitch she ever knew says that? He goes to her bedroom and plops himself on a bed, legs dangling.
"Oh, that's so much better than a couch!" He touches the pillow with the tip of his finger. "Soft."
That's so surrealistic, to see your enemy, that absolute moron, lying on your bed, playing with the corner of the pillow like a child. Cadence folds her arms. There was a question that bothered her.
"You're crazy. Out of all people you could come to, why me? Why don't you call some, I don't know, strippers?"
"Ugh!" He sits. "That's not the thing I want. They would be soft, or fake, and fucking expensive! You're so much better than any of those whores." He sighs, and then his eyes go wide. "Wait! Wrong meaning. Fuck. I'm not comparing you to some random whore, I- fuck, I am, but not in that way! Oh gosh, why is it so hard to not sound offensive when you for once trying not to?"
"You," Cadence grits her teeth, filled with anger to the brim. "You have thirty seconds before I'll break your nose and throw you out the window."
"Yes! That thing, this is what I mean! You're honest. You won't hesitate to do what you think is right, to say anything! Oh I love that part of you! Come closer." She does. He slowly grabs her hand and moves it to his throat. "I came to you because I want you to break me."
"I'm going to punch you."
"Please do. Just not at the face, okay? It's hard to hide bruises on my skin."
Her anger fades. It's strange when someone is asking you to do such a thing. Well great, now she's more confused than mad. It's time to just kick him out and forget about everything. Or, on the other hand, he is literally asking for it. Such a rare opportunity. Technically speaking she wouldn't even do anything bad if she provides.
His throat is warm, her hand wrapped around it. Cadence squizzes it a little and feels his heartbeat fastening. He really wants it, that weirdo. She steps back, hands over her chest.
"You know what, why not?" She gets her phone and hits record. "For safety." Blackmail. "Repeat what you've said or go home, Necrodancer."
He swallows loudly, fiddling impatiently. Redness coming to his cheeks. Trying to look cool but failing miserably. Oh, that's amusing.
"Right. Um. Cadence, I want you to break me. Beat. Fuck. Do anything, just make it hurt, okay?" He lowers his gaze. "And, by the way, it's Octavian."
"Really?"
"What? You thought that abomination you kept calling me was my name? A mere title it is, and we aren't even in the Crypt anymore. It's like thinking that the President is a name, gosh."
Back to usual 'everyone is stupid' self it seems. Ugh. She thinks for a second and goes to the shelf, pocketing her phone. That arrogance won't stay for long, she'll make sure. There was a thing Dove gave her to relieve stress when nothing else helps. Embarrassing gift to be honest. She hasn't been using that before and surely wouldn't be if that drunk idiot hadn't shown up. Cadence feels unusually confident now, strapon in her hands. She looks at belts, fiddling a bit, but manages to understand how to wear that thing. It takes her a painstakingly long moment to turn around. She feels hot, knowing that they both are red now. She looks at Necro.. Octavian and whistles. He's shirtless, his hands on the belt. Oh, she wants to do some stupid things. Fuck it, if he's allowed to be dumb and brave, so she is.
"Woah, you're curvy!" She walks closer, hovers over him, forcing him to lean back and rest his elbows on the mattress. She puts her hand next to his head to keep herself from falling, tracing his waist with other one. "Do tell me, has someone ever mistaken you for a girl?" Cadence doesn't really know where she got that attitude from but the look at his face is so fucking funny that she doesn't want to stop.
"The fuck are you talking—"
"Cause the whimpering mess I'll make you into won't deserve being called a man." Their faces are so close she could feel his breathing on her lips. He looks stunned.
Octavian breathes in sharply, cheeks burning red.
"Blondy brat. Dirty talk is not something you are good at."
She speaks before she could stop herself.
"But you liked that."
He bites his lip, averting his gaze, and stays silent. And from that silence she knows — he did.
"You're a fucking psycho, you know?" She stands up. "Don't worry, I won't judge," she couldn't help but smirk. Oh, that irresistible carving to be called a good girl, a common trait between pure evil. He looks funny, lying on her bed like that. And maybe, just maybe, a little hot. "So, is my lovely girl ready to get fucked up?"
He looks like all the alcohol left his body at that very moment.
"I don't like that."
"Oh yeah?" She moves her hips, bumping the bulge on his pants with the tip of the rubber dick. "Then I'm imagining your boner, do I?"
He lets out a muffled moan. God bless the internet for all the nasty things she found there. It's definitely helping now.
"Okay, okay, you got me, cowardly woman." He pulled the blanket under himself so he could lie down and still see everything. "Can we start already?"
She snorts and reaches to undo his belt.
"You are fluffy." She reaches for his belly and touches the white fur. There's so much of it it's no way she would call that hair. It's almost comically soft. He reminds her of the blue bats that she saw in the Crypt.
Can all that get any more insane? If someone told her few years ago that Octavian would beg her to fuck him, she would spit in that face. And here she is. Staring at his blue dick, silently wondering if hand cream will work as a lube.
Oh, that's gonna be a fun night.