What Separates Me From You //Mila//

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "You're assuming that I exist on hate alone." she said, giving him a small smile. "Perhaps it's apathy. Or selfishness. Or the thirst for power. Hatred is assuming that something has happened to warrant me being hateful." she said, her smile turning into a smirk, even as she spoke. "Tell me Garret, do I seem broken to you?" she asked, her eyebrows arching as she leaned back in her seat. She shifted a bit, her eyes never leaving his. If there was one thing that Mila loathed it was victims of circumstance. The life that she had led, in truth, was a horrific one. Not that one could tell. For the most part, she was incredibly well put together. And some people were just cold. Mila seemed to be one of those people. Mila laughed lightly, the smirk giving wake to an almost mirthless flash of her teeth. "If I wanted you, I wouldn't just talk about it, Garret." she teased. "I take a bit to warm up." she said, finishing off her glass of rum. Despite the fact that most would find that their tempers were flaring, Mila seemed completely aloof to the conversation. No emotion showed on her exterior, save for what she wished him to see. "Of course I have been attached to people before, I am human. But this is a world that doesn't save much room for humanity." she said, setting her empty glass down on the arm of her chair. She absently picked beneath her nails, keeping her eyes glued to the man before her. "We live completely different lives. One where I will be exploited for any weakness that I have. While you see it as a strength, you don't often have to fight Raiders off of a stash of loot. Or your traveling companions for your share." she bit down on the inside of her cheek. The first sign of humanity that she had given since they had met. While he raised good points, it truly was a matter of opinion, and preference for the lifestyle that they led. Neither had to agree with what the other believed; they just, simply put, had to respect the other's choice. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 366. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield

"Do I seem broken to you?" If looks could kill, Garrett felt certain he would be six feet under at this moment. He had pegged her right, and he had misjudged her at the same time. While he was sure that she was using this cold exterior as a shield, she wielded it as a weapon as well. Perhaps she was never a damsel in distress, but rather the cause of distress for others. He would have to write this into his journal at some point, an entry about Mila. The fiery temptress from beyond. Actually, now that he thought about It, this would make good material for a song.

Her temper was definitely rising, and the look on her face made her beauty both haunting and dramatic, accenting her eyes, and the crook of her mouth. She mentioned that if she wanted him she would need to warm up. She then replied to another one of his queries that the world didn’t leave much room for humanity. He could agree with that. He quashed a retort about battling adversity and continued listening to her. He kept her gaze the whole time, as she talked about their differences, how he didn’t have to fight people for his share, or enemies for loot. She was right that his life was easier, but hadn’t he chosen his path, as she had chosen hers? Why some people had to either self-destruct or take it out on others he didn’t know. he supposed he was doing the same with the alcohol he drank every other day, Perhaps the rum was starting to kick in, or perhaps Garrett simply couldn’t process all this information that he did not agree with. "Oh Sod it all." He muttered. He moved rapidly out of his chair and leaned over her, kissing her full on the lips.

Word Count :312

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - To most others, the silence would have left her feeling uncertain. She might have worried about whether she had offended him. Or, she might have found herself dwelling on the conversation that they had just had, attempting to figure out the pieces of the conversation that had led to the awkward quagmire. But, the silence was something that was used to. Something that she was accustomed to. While she was working as a Dominatrix, she toyed with the idea of becoming a lawyer. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was poking holes in the arguments of others... Forcing them to see her side of things, and abandon their preconceived notions. For the most part, Mila was damn good at figuring out peoples moves long before they made them. But what happened next was not something that she was expecting. There was no rage in his movements. No anger. Simply one thing that she understood; and that she understood well. Lust. A carnal desire to claim her mouth as his own. But, it had all happened so fast that the thoughts didn't connect. It wasn't until his lips were pressed against hers in a feverish, almost urgent kiss that she made the connection. She smirked against his lips, kissing him back. It was only a few seconds before she parted his lips with her own. She let out a soft, teasing moan, before pushing her fingers through his hair, reciprocating the passion that he seemed to have have held inside himself. Gently nipping at his lower lip, she tugged, pushing herself out of the chair so that she was standing. She wasted no time in pressing herself against him, enjoying the moment of physical intimacy. While it was... the fastest she had ever found herself in the arms of a man, this had to be the most interesting. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 312. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield

Warmth. Lips. Mila. Rum. Emotion. Garrett didn't understand why he had launched himself at her. Why he had just met her only a short time ago. All he knew was that he needed to connect with Mila. And if a physical connection was the only kind she understood, then that was where he was going to start. He breathed on her neck and entwined his arms with hers.She parted her lips and gave a small sighing moan, before entangling a hand in his hair.Garrett kissed her neck slowly on both sides of her head.
"Perhaps I'll simply give up on looking for the best in people." You dont have to like my views, and I don't have to like yours, but I think you're going to want it. A chance to show the side of you you keep so hidden under this cold exterior." He moved a hand up and down her spine. "A chance to open up. You won't be able to resist. You're going to want to know what it feels like."

He kissed her lips again. He thought he had probably wanted to do this since the moment he laid eyes on her, and yet this had happened. He hadn't known things would lead to this. He moved to his left, placing her back against a wall. He whispered into her ear. " I believe in decency, honor, love, and all those other little virtues you believe are weakness. If you want me to believe otherwise, you'd have to persuade me." He pulled at her cheek a moment with his mouth and rubbed her side with a hand before looking into her eyes.


Word Count: 258

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Mila laughed out against his laps, enjoying this tete-a-tete more than she had any right to. It was as though he was yin and she was yang. He was good, and she was evil. But, they were destined and determined to be together; joined in one way or another. Because, without the other, there was no balance, and there was nothing that could bring them peace, until, in one way or another, they were back in contact. This physical contact was just proof of that. A shiver rolled up her spine. It was electric; the passion. The heat of the moment. This was what she had missed in the arms of the many lovers she took. Of course, she would never admit that. "I'm not like every other woman." she breathed against his lips. "I have opened up, and I know what it feels like." she said, cryptically. "I have nothing to open up about." she smiled. "But if this is how you press an issue, I don't think I'd mind if you continued to press a bit more." For the most part, she was telling the truth. She had nothing to talk about in her life now; she made sure of it. And the past was something that she carefully chose to forget. Another small chuckle escaped her lips when he pressed her up against a wall. Oh, he had already found one of her most favorite aspects of intimacy; the roughness. She offered more of her neck to him as he started to plant light kisses along her skin. Her eyes lightly lidded as she listened to him speak. In a younger time, when she was far more naive and less world savvy, she might have believed that this was a man that she could fall for. Right now, however? He was a man that she wanted between her thighs, and as an argumentative participant. Beyond that, there was nothing for them. "But why would I want to corrupt, quite possibly, the one last innocent person...?" she asked. Another candid response. Her eyes searched his for a moment. Did she really just confess that? She leaned forward and kissed him heatedly, her fingers moving through his hair, gently tugging. A leg slipped over his hip, pulling him against her. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 381. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield.

It was clear to Garrett that Mila had no reason to talk about anything concerning herself. And yet she said she didn't mind if he pressed the issue a bit more. He planted more kisses along her neck. "But why would I want to corrupt, quite possibly, the one last innocent person...?" The question seemed almost rhetorical in nature to Garrett, as though she were asking herself instead of him. Was that how she saw him? Their eyes locked for a moment, and then their lips locked again, and again. One of her legs drifted up to pull him in closer. A low groan escaped his lips as he struggled to formulate a cohesive sentence. "You don't have to be afraid you know. I'm not the kind of man who bites." He said in a heavy breath before nibbling at one of her ears. "Unless, of course, you want me to."

His hands moved up to her lacey bodice. He fumbled with the knots for a moment, before starting to caress her partly exposed chest. He moved down her neck and planted light kisses in that area as well. "Mila, Mila, Mila, i wonder what brought you to my doorstep." He used his free hand to grip the leg she had raised. He panted for a second. If things continued like this there was no going back. He hesitated a oment, The rational and irrational parts of his mind battling for control. Not knowing which side of his mind to trust. He decided it was best left up to the thundering tempest that had blown into his life. " Mila." He breathed. "Do you want this? "


Word Count: 281

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Mila blinked a few times, for once, the smirk of a temptress coming to her lips. Instead, she fixed him with a rather serious look. "What makes you think that I'm scared?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. Mila wasn't scared of intimacy. She just chose to forgo it in any type of relationship. It made things easier. Less sticky. Less grounds for someone to manipulate and deceive on. The last chance of her being truly intimate with someone died with that last altercation with Lucas. "I enjoy biting." she smirked, tugging his hair lightly before dragging her teeth along his neck. "I don't deny myself the ability to be close to someone because I'm afraid of getting burned. I do it because I don't want them to get hurt. Myself as a byproduct." It was a strange confession, given the current state of affairs between the two of them. If Mila would have taken a moment to think on what was happening, she might have questioned what exactly foreplay had degenerated to. But, she wasn't thinking. Their lips were on each other, and at the moment, that was the only thing that mattered. As much as she hated to admit it, Garret's incessant need to take a meaning out of everything made her want to search for her own meanings. Even if it was just for one night. Mila arched her back off of the wall to give him a better chance at tugging off the corset. Not many men knew their way around the various knots and ties that were crucial for a steel boned corset. She watched him, rather smugly as his fingers fumbled around the strings. He managed to tug it free, just a little bit, to plant light kisses over the newly exposed flesh. Do you want this? Mila laughed, an eyebrow arching as she watched his face. She didn't offer a real answer; she simply grabbed him by the back of the head once again, kissing him with the same passion that he had initially kissed her. If there was one thing that she missed about... being normal, was that she could indulge that childlike need to feel as though, she too had the propensity to be loved; to be needed. But, those days were dead to her; as they should be. She pushed him back, slightly, her fingers dipping under his shirt. She tugged it up and over his head, throwing it carelessly to the side. Before he had a chance to respond, she began kissing down his neck, gently nipping at whatever skin she could access. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 437. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield

She wasn't scared she said. She wasn't afraid to be burned she told him, rather she didn't want to do the burning. " I see... So you are a flame then. I guess that makes me a moth. I might be flying too close to the glow. But you don't want to see people hurt." Teeth grazed his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. "My, but you do care."

She didn't answer his question directly, instead kissing him in silence. He tried to make more sense of her previous words, but thinking straight was becoming increasingly difficult for him."It's not worth it to give up on someone. Especially yourself. The saddest thing I can think of is when something dies inside us and we continue to live without it. Is that really living?"

She moved to remove his shirt, moving him back a little and bringing it over his head and casting it aside. He grimaced as she nipped up and down his chest, causing little bursts of fireworks under his skin wherever she left a kiss. " A beautiful thing like you, what has the world done?" He struggled with some more laces as she moved around his torso, and a few more of them came unlaced. He moved closer to her, tracing the outline of her curves with his fingers and then his tongue. He gripped several laces and leaned back, falling to the ground and taking her with him. "Laces. Now who thought these were a good idea?

Word Count:240

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Mila threw her head back, giving him a genuine laugh. "Just like the tiptoe moth, that dance before the flame, they burn their hearts so much, that death is just a name. And if love calls again, they run, they run, they run... They run without a sound, the desperate ones." she quoted, her eyes locking on his. Given the conversation, it was actually quite fitting. All this talk of getting burned, and being drawn toward one another. "Consider me your savior then. The one that cut you off." she smirked before pushing him back a bit, distancing their bodies a bit. It was more of a tease than a legit way of pushing him away. "You make plenty of assumptions." she said, a haughty tone of indignation in her voice. In all honesty, she wasn't displeased with him asking so many questions, or making so many assumptions. What was bothering her was the fact that it was all taking place while they were supposed to be.. for lack of a better phrase, getting it on. She rolled her hips toward him, proving that she had more weapons at her disposal than most men wanted to realize... And her hips? While most would peg them as weapons on their own, they hadn't the faintest idea how potent they could be when Mila truly wanted to exploit someone. "What has the world done?" she smirked. An involuntary shiver took a hold of her when his fingers, and then his tongue moved over her curves. She watched him, a hungry look in her eye. He certainly did know how to make a woman needy. A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips as he tugged her down onto the floor with him. She straddled him, so that she might be able to better get at the corset that he was having so much issue with. Laces... Now, who thought these were a good idea? "Clearly you've never been to Singapore." she mused, pulling the corset free and tossing it aside. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 338. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield
She replied with a quote about moths and flame, that riveted hi, He felt like he had heard it sometime in the past. He wasn’t sure when or where though. She gave him a look and eased him back just a bit before saying that he made plenty of assumptions. She said that in a slightly offended tone, as if he had displeased her. However, her eyes told a different story as they seemed to dance. With what, he wasn’t certain. It could have been passion in her smoky eyes, or lust. Or simply curiosity. Garrett did not consider himself to be particularly deep or anything, though His brother had often asked his advice on relationships. It was always an odd request, for Garrett rarely had any relationships. Those he did have had been far and few between, though they had each lasted for a few years. He didn't know why that thought had crossed his mind. Mila did not appear to be one for relationships. Though one could never tell.

It seemed as though Mila could tell he was highly distracted as she rolled her hips towards him, grinding against his lower regions, in a way that made him gasp. He hadn’t spent much time staring at her posterior as she had been facing him for most of the conversation that they had. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps this had been her plan all along to find someone new in town and seduce him or her, though at the moment that thought didn’t bother him. She was escaping the only way she knew how, the same way he had been ignoring life by drinking his troubles away. He didn’t think he could fault her for that.

They had wound up on the floor and he continued to struggle with the corset. In his mind, this particular article of clothing should have gone out of style in the seventeenth century.. She straddled him and removed the corset herself, quipping something about him never having been to Singapore. At the moment, he did not care about that country. He was more concerned with the topless, ivory skinned goddess on top of him. He gripped her arms to pull himself up just a little bit, breathing on her exposed chest. He traced the outlines with his tongue again before fastening his teeth on one of her breasts. He felt more alive right now than he had for the past year. His body was on fire, and this raider, this woman, this Mila, was the cause.


Word Count:426

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] what separates me from you It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This was... strange, for Mila, to say the least. While she wouldn't say that she found a kindred spirit in this man, she would say that she felt as though there was... Some kind of commonality, that made it so that they were able to interact this way; to get lost in one another. It seemed as though he could see right through her. It was daunting; petrifying. And, while she would never admit it to him, what she really wanted was someone to confide in; someone that would understand her. Someone that... She didn't just use for their body, and the carnal pleasures that they could bring. But, his touches sent an electric chill throughout her body, covering her small curvaceous frame to erupt in goose bumps as his lips and teeth dragged over the skin of her chest. She leaned back slightly, pulling him up with her. She kissed him again, and almost needy moan escaping her lips. Normally, these noises were byproducts of seduction. Everything was calculated; meant to get a rise out of whoever she was sharing her bed with that evening. But this man? He was disarmingly genuine... In his own little way. They played cat and mouse with each other, and she was intrigued. But Mila was not the type to be broken. Nor, was she the type to be tamed. She lived the life that she led, and offered no apologies for it. She never had to think about others, and that was the way that she liked it. This life was hers, and hers alone to lead. Too much of her past had been spent under the thumb of someone else and their whims. Now that she had the ability to be who she wanted to be, and do as she pleased, she was going to do so. With no remorse. She grasped his wrists and pinned him down, her lips seeking the skin on the side of his neck hungrily. Smirking as she took the lobe of his ear between her teeth, she breathed, "You have a strange effect on me..." into his ear. Perhaps, she was compensating for the lack of affection that she had with Lucas, and the lack of intimacy that she had with her other partners with this man. She wasn't entirely certain. But for right now, she just wanted to get lost in him. Get lost in this moment. Pulling back, she looked down at him, an unreadable smile coming to her face. "Damn you..." she murmured, before trapping him in yet another heated kiss. TAGGING, GARRET THE ENIGMA. 429. OUTFIT.

[Garrett Brookefield]

Garrett Brookefield

For what reason was this happening? The answer to that question was unknown to Garrett. Mila exhibited many of the characteristics he found himself loathing in this “brave new world” Joseph had always called him the knight. He was someone who wanted to rescue people, even from themselves. Two peculiar thoughts flashed through Garrett’s mind at the moment, almost at the same time. Who saves the hero when he needs saving? And why the hell were thoughts of deceased friends going through his mind as he was getting intimate with this woman? He supposed that intimacy bore intimacy. Your personality was shaped in part by the people that you interacted with, and his closest friends had left their mark. Though they were gone, pieces of them lived on in Garrett’s quirks, or the things he said, or his very actions.

This Mila was at a different end of the spectrum than him. He put others first, she relied on herself. She would take an eye for an eye, and he would turn the other cheek. He wondered if life had played out differently, that they would have been in each other’s shoes. Perhaps he would have been a raider, a man without conviction, taking out his hurt on those around him under pretense of masculinity. Maybe Mila would have been a resident of this small town. And it would have been him that had come to her window. But he had the people in his life to thank for his worldview. It was clear to him that for Mila’s countenance to be this way; she must not have known as many decent people as him.

As if sensing his thoughts, Mila roughly grabbed his wrists and nipped at the side of his neck, whispering that he had a strange effect on her. He thought this must be a rather good effect. She too, was having an effect on him. She had brought out the impulsive Garrett, the part of him that was so often drowned in a bottle, the part of him he had nearly stopped believing existed when he had found himself alone those months ago. He no longer thought she was toying with him, as he had initially thought. This felt real. So, forget his paranoia, forget the booze, and forget the rest of the town. Right now, all he needed was this woman. She pulled back and smiled at him again, before murmuring the words damn you and bending forward to kiss him heatedly again. “Damn me?” He whispered back. He wiggled his left hand out of her grasp and moved it over, sliding his hand into her pants and undoing a buckle. Moved his hand lower into her leather covering until he found an area radiating warmth, he then began deftly massaging the area, while he kissed her fiercely. This raider woman had so little in common with him, and yet so much, but all he knew was that he wanted to be there for her.

Word Count: 500

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

And then we fade to black...

[Garrett Brookefield]

And then we fade to black...

[Mila Mika Eppolito]

And then we fade to black...