Sicchorine; A Christopher Corradino One-Shot Part Six.
(No school in Canada! We be beast-mode!) He took a step forward, intent on cornering her. He just wanted to smell her again. His thoughts were in contradiction; he felt them directly focused, alert. Still, a fraction remained hazy, delirious. "You know," his voice lowered. He wasn't sure what he was talking about, only that he was getting somewhere. A vague but desired destination. "Now tell me, why are you here?" "I..." she took a step backwards, lost. He continued to take slow, deliberate steps towards her. She reminded him of a small animal, trapped and trying to escape without any true hope of escaping. Her spine touched the door which she had previously slammed and he wondered if she regretted the action. "I..." she tried again. "I just wanted to..." "Just wanted to...?" His hands were flush against the door as he stood over her. He could see the marks in her irises here, jagged and punctured. He came closer still, catching that alien scent that marked her from the rest of the world, which reminded him that this wasn't a woman who was born and bred like everyone else. This was a warrior, a princess; this was Parker. (Confused? Well, not for long.) He suddenly threw his head back and laughed. It all made sense now. The maddening feeling he felt when he saw her, when she spoke. He was in love with her. Of course he was. The acceptance of the obvious only held him back a millimeter second in which he considered the consequences and disregarded them. "Chris," she ...
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