Chapter 7 #4
“Nope, not going to hear it, Princess.”
It was the way he spoke, his humor, his quiet boldness. Calliope liked it far too much.
“Besides, this is my apology, right? I’m the one making it up to you, so...”
The words died in the air as the waiter returned with the folder.
Calliope watched as he hurriedly signed and stuck his credit card back in his wallet.
Reality struck her that this... this perfect, comfortable dinner was coming to an end.
And that meant the night itself was coming to an end, and Calliope did not want it to.
She wanted the night to go on forever, with Theodore.
He rose before she could, so quickly, he moved like a blur. Before she could push her chair out, she felt it drag across the floor and realized Theo was pulling it out. So she could stand.
Gods, he has manners, too. He is certainly too good to be true.
“Merci,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks heat.
When she stood, she could see the warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. It appeared he did not want this night to end, either. But end, it had to.
Everything had an ending. Even perfect dates.
It was not a date, Calliope. It was dinner, nothing more.
Though as she followed Theo out of the restaurant into the cool LA night, as she settled into the passenger seat of his car, she felt as if she was trying to convince herself of such things because the reality was so much more frightening than a missing diviner.
The sounds of Maneskin’s Begging filled the space, and Calliope could not help the rapid beat of her heart, nor could she stop herself from stealing glances at Theo.
He’d been more than attractive in his dress pants and button down, alongside his mask, but now—in his car, dressed in a simple black shirt and dark jeans, his dark hair smooth and straight, pushed behind his ears, she couldn’t help but think he was much more attractive.
Because this... this was the real Theo. Simple, understated. A sharp druzy stone embedded in rock.
Beneath the surface, Theo was quite stunning. He turned, catching her glance, and smirked at her. She forced herself to look away. If she did not pay attention, she’d never make it home.
Would that be so terrible?
“Take a turn here,” she pointed, alongside the street off campus that led to her apartment.
Theo didn’t answer, he just turned down the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight. When they’d finally arrived at her complex, he stopped the car, turning it off, but neither of them seemed to want to move.
“Can I walk you to your door?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
There was the anxiety she remembered. The uncertainty, and something about that fueled her more than she cared to admit.
“I think I’d like that,” she said carefully.
There was a pause before the door opened and Theo climbed out.
He opened her door only a moment later, offering her his hand to help her out.
It was a polite gesture, one that felt quite foreign to her.
In recent years, and even with David, Calliope’s patrons did not expel chivalry.
The men she met rarely did things like Theo.
Not because they were awful men, but because in today’s world, Calliope had noticed a disconnect.
Women preferred to do things themselves, as they should, and though many desired men of a certain manner, men did not feel as inclined to put the effort into courting or romancing as they once did, deeming women’s independence as emasculation.
But Calliope was certainly capable of opening her own doors, and doing things for herself. She’d become accustomed to it. So much that when Theo went out of his way to be polite and mannerly, she was surprised.
It was not a ploy or thinly veiled manners with ulterior motives. It was genuine.
Theodore wanted to be a gentlemen. He wanted to be romantic and sweet, because it was who he was.
So, Calliope set her hand in his, and the spark returned. It did not burn as it had before, no. It lit up like static between them.
Thin, lilac fractals danced between their skin for only a fraction of a second before it disappeared.
She glanced up at Theo, and he caught her gaze. His thumb stroked the back of her hand.
“Static electricity,” he murmured.
Calliope knew he was trying to convince himself what he’d seen was not real. Looking for some earthly explanation to the spark that existed between them, and at that moment, Calliope realized there was indeed, magic between them.
There was something magical and intense and overwhelming between them.
He dropped her hand, and she hated how cold it felt without his palm warming her.
But she did not take his hand as she wanted to. She knew it would only make the ache worse when he left.
So, she walked with Theo by her side, their hands dangling within inches of one another.
And then she felt his fingers graze hers, almost innocently. He ghosted them along hers, seeking permission.
He wanted to hold her hand.
And she wanted him to hold it.
But Calliope could not bring herself to reach for him, and he could not bring himself to steal her hand, and so they walked, grazing, touching ever so faintly with whispers of hope.
When she got to her stoop, she stopped, holding her hands in front of her. She regaled Theo with a steady gaze as the overhead light above her door shone on them.
“Thank you. For your... company, this evening,” she said softly.
Theo gave her a graceful smile. “The pleasure was all mine, Callie.”
There was pregnant pause as his gaze drifted to her lips.
Calliope’s heart lodged in her throat, her insides twisting with anticipation. She leaned in just the slightest, the spark within her catching, remembering just how it felt underneath Theodore’s hold, under his kiss.
His voice faltered only slightly when he spoke. “All you have to do is ask,” he whispered, leaning in just slightly. The distance between them lessened.
“It’s not that simple, Theodore,” she murmured, smelling his intoxicating scent. He smelled like cinnamon and cloves and deep, dark forests.
His phthalo gaze caught hers.
“Yes, it is,” he insisted, reaching one hand out and tucking her hair behind her ear. The graze of his fingertips on her cheek made her blood rush.
“Perhaps I don’t want to ask for what I want anymore. Perhaps I don’t want to be told no, again.”
“Calliope...”
“Perhaps I want someone to give me what I want. Without asking. I want someone who knows what it is I need.”
She gazed up at Theo, at his dark, inviting eyes.
Her words made her feel as if she was on the edge of a cliff. One she couldn’t escape, one with dark, churning unknown waters below.
And Calliope wasn’t ready to jump into its cold, shocking waters.
Theodore leaned in just the slightest, his lips inches away from hers.
She settled her hand on his chest, holding him where he was. As badly as she wanted him to kiss her, she knew if she kissed Theo, he would not leave her doorstep.
Because if Theo kissed her, she would take everything he was willing to give, and she would not let him go.
And she needed to let him go. She could not keep him. He was not a thing to possess, but a person. A student.
And it was a school night.
“Good Night, Theodore,” she said, her voice darker than it should have been.
He dropped his hand, settling it over her hand on his chest. For a moment there was silence, thick and heavy like an ominous villain.
Theo carefully plucked her hand from his chest and raised her hand to his lips. The spark returned, where he touched her, where his soft lips laid a kiss to the back of her hand.
Violet sparks disappeared into the air like fireflies.
He kissed the back of her hand softly, before dropping it, his verdant gaze capturing hers once more.
“Good Night, Princess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, Theodore Lange left her on her doorstep, sauntering off to his car.
She watched him leave, unable to tear her gaze from him or the way his perfect ass swayed as he left.
When his car took off, only then could Calliope breathe.
She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking from the onslaught of emotion and physical response to Theo’s sparking touch, to his soft lips. The ache in her heart spread to every inch of her body. Including her pussy.
She grumbled as she shut the door, tossing her keys on the end table. Only a day ago, he’d been here. They’d rushed into her apartment, hands moving of their own possessed accord, mouths seeking one another for more perfect kisses.
She could still remember the feel of his hands on her thighs, of his lips on her skin. Her gaze settled on the room before her, remembering every step, every moment, with new clarity.
One glance at the clock told her it was nearing nine-thirty. It was not late by any means, but Calliope suddenly felt exhausted.
But her fingers twitched, words starting to form in her brain.
Flashes of color begged to be swatched, to make themselves known.
Calliope wanted to paint.
That itself was a victory, and she felt the tears culminate in her eyes, her chest tightening. She took careful, calculated steps across the living room, remembering every strewn piece of clothing. Every kiss, every touch. Every word uttered.
She remembered his promises.
Anything you want.
She remembered his deep, phthalo green gaze and the red paint smudged along his skin.
When she arrived at her canvas, Calliope stared at the white, bare block in front of her.
She grabbed for her palette, fished around across the strewn tubes of paint on the floor, looking for her ultraviolet blue.
She grabbed her cadmium red, noting the tube itself was rather full.
It had been too long since she used the color, clearly.
She squirted the paint onto her palette, not even bothering to mix it with a palette knife.
Her fingers slid through the cool liquid, blurring the colors together.
She stood there for what felt like eternity, blending and sliding her fingers through the soft, cool acrylic, watching as it stained her fingers and hand.
And when she’d gotten several varying shades of purple—from plum to lilac and in between, she took her fingers and touched them to the canvas.
One streak of violet paint stained the surface, bleeding into the taut fabric and it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Calliope closed her eyes, letting the tears come as she followed her inner muse, the inspiration taking hold. Her fingers glided across the canvas over and over until she opened her eyes to see the shape of a star.
A spark.
Shimmers of violet and mauve and purple and blue that hadn’t mixed well, streaks of red that refused to be diluted in anything.
Relief flooded her.
She’d done it; she’d broken her block.
Calliope grinned as she sauntered to her bathroom, removing her clothes if only so she could bathe and ready herself for bed. And as she crawled into bed, she breathed in deep, the faint scent of Theodore’s cologne clinging to the air. To her pillow.
She closed her eyes, breathing in deep, the scent igniting her inner spark. Warmth flooded her, her memories once again circling her like prey.
His mouth, his tongue, his laugh, his eyes...
Theo filled Calliope’s psyche, and she was too tired to fight. So she let herself wander down the memory of his kiss, his touch, his smooth voice. She let herself remember just how he could please her.
And the thought of his devotional tongue sparked desire in her loins once more.
She knew she should not pursue such fantasies. She’d promised herself tonight would be a fresh start, that she could put aside what had happened and start the semester anew.
But Calliope knew as she let her hand travel underneath her nightgown, as her fingers slid between the fabric of her already soaked panties, that there was no forgetting Theodore Lange.
Because fate had brought him to her, that she was sure of. And Calliope had a feeling if they somehow found the diviner, it would divine the truth in its stone, the same way it longed to divine through its dust.
Theodore could not see the color of the diviner unless he was divined for someone.
Perhaps her.
It was wishful thinking, Calliope knew that.
For she’d only seen the color of the diviner on her own, not with another person.
Even when she’d lain her gaze upon it, when Mars and Athena and Isabelle and Spike and Lorelai had been there, she hadn’t seen a line toward.
.. well, anyone. All she’d seen was the thin violet line, shooting out, but without an end.
It was short, perhaps because she had no divined mate.
Perhaps, the diviner was only showing her her openness to be a muse, to be open to so many.
But now, perhaps, Calliope thought, it was because Theo was simply not in her proximity yet.
Her fingers slid inside her entrance as she tried to push the thought aside. She could not afford to fall for such fantasies.
But the fantasy of Theo wanting her, of him giving her what she wanted more than anything else—to be his in all senses of the word—was too much to fight.
And so Calliope gave herself to her fantasy, telling herself it was just for tonight. Tomorrow, things would be different.
Tomorrow she would call Mars and inquire about his knowledge of supernatural shifters, of his experience with the diviner, and she would find a way to bring the diviner back, and when she did bring it back, she’d know for certain if she was right about Theo.
Until then, she vowed she would keep her distance from him. She had to. Because if Theo was not the mate she wished him to be, it would be too painful to bear, if she was too entangled.
She closed her eyes and chased the memory of his lips on her clit, his fingers pumping inside her. She tried her best to mimic his movement, but it was no use. It wasn’t the same and it would never be the same.
She thrust her hips against her hand, inserting another finger inside herself as she flicked her clit with her thumb. She lost herself in the motions, the feelings. The memory.
All yours.
Her orgasm built, steady and slow as she wandered down the paths of her psyche, of last night.
And when she remembered that feeling of wholeness, of being lost and found all at once while he filled her, she came with a moan full of relief and exhaustion hit once more.
Calliope removed her hand from her slick channel, her pussy spasming like sparks beckoning to catch onto kindling.
It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. Because Calliope could not have what she wanted, but in her dreams, she found herself entangled in shades of violet and green, once more.