Lyla covered herself in a filmy robe and padded quickly out of her room, with barely a backward glance at her disheveled bed. She dashed down the hall and around the corner on quick, light feet. She saw Ramiel there, with nothing but a pair of pants hastily put on to cover himself. She picked up speed.
Ramiel heard her light, but quickly approaching footsteps and turned in surprise — just as she threw herself headlong into him. The force of her tackle threw them against the guardrail at the top of the stairs, then Lyla twisted and pulled him with her bouncing and banging down the steps. Somehow, she’d managed to put herself underneath him with the skill of a stuntman so as to take the brunt of the damage in the otherwise dangerous fall. They came to an abrupt halt when Lyla’s body, still clutching Ramiel with all her might, slammed into the wall at the landing where the steps turned ninety degrees before continuing to the ground floor below.
“What the fuck–” Ramiel exclaimed before being cut off by peels of laughter.
“Got ya!” Lyla exclaimed. She touched the tip of his nose.
Ramiel was a bit sore from the nasty fall, but looking at Lyla he saw that she’d used herself as a cushion, effectively making him ride her body down the stairs. Big bruises that had flowered over Lyla’s face and arms — visible through the flimsy “robe” if one could call it that — were already disappearing. It occurred to Ramiel that he could barely imagine what rough-housing between a pair of Uratha might be like.
“We just had sex,” Lyla said with a grin. “I’m not gonna let you skulk out of our room all moody without telling me what’s going on.”
“And this was the best way you could think of to ask me!” Moody was an understatement. Lyla had never gotten a reaction like this from any man. Ramiel always liked it when they were rough. He practically prided himself on seeing how much she could take. This should have been the prize for him, they had acted like he could heal just as easily as she could. But then he had panicked, and tore away from her and the room.
He pulled himself off the floor and rounded the corner. Retrieving a new bottle of Jack, he opened it and chugged. Then coughed as the liquid burned it’s way down.
“Nope,” Lyla said with a grin. “Just the most fun. Anyway, come on, babe! What’s got your nuts in a knot?”
“What just happened back there. The broken rib doesn’t help any either.” He said.
“Oh, it’s not broken, you big baby,” she said. “Maybe a deep bruise, but you’d be really carrying on if you had a busted rib. And maybe foaming,” she added as an afterthought. “Anyway, what did happen back there? I thought we were about to have earth-shatteringly awesome sex. I felt, like, really empowered!”
“I felt the same until you started draining me. Just like in the dream. If I hadn’t called out we would have kept going and no telling what would have happened.” He was obviously troubled.
“Draining?” Lyla said thoughtfully. “I felt something, too, right when we started. Like a pull that that came out of me and into you. I thought I imagined it.” Her mood was dampened. “What do you think it means? We can’t have sex anymore?”
“For now it means I am gonna drink until I pass out, or puke. Then I can worry about it later because really I don’t even want to joke about not being able to fuck you.” He took another big drink.
Desperation entered Lyla’s eyes. “But I need you! We can’t just let things be in the state we’re in, can we?” She really didn’t know how she could stand it. “Can’t we finish what we started? What if it gets worse because we’re not… you know, active?”
“Who says I won’t be active.” The alcohol was kicking in already. oops. He thought. Ramiel grabbed her quickly before she could hit him. ” I need you too.” He said as he held her. “You are the only one I truly need.”
“Then take me!” she said as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Take me now!”
He closed his eyes and did as she asked, hoping it would not get ugly. He took her up to his room and made sure no sound would escape.