Drunk

It was always a mistake to let Rosette get drunk. Not because she was a violent drunk, well, she was, but when she opened her mouth, it was either to speak in elegant slurs, or drink more alcohol.

She was a chatty drunk.

Especially now, Chrono realized as he watched Satella and Rosette celebrate whatever the occasion happened to be.

She had changed so much in the six months they were apart.

He stood, sealing back the features that looked inhuman before waltzing into the now-drunken brawl over “I’m sleeping with Chrono, you half-baked SISTER.” A fluid motion had Rosette slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Satella stared at him with glassy eyes before muttering, “I never get to sleep with the cutie.”

“As often as I’d love to take you up on your offer, my lady, Rosette here can be a force to be reckoned with,” he smiled and patted the young woman’s backside.

The squawk of pure indignation caused the smile to widen into a full-fledged grin.

“That girl is a natural disaster,” Satella sighed, pouring herself another glass of brandy. “Have a good night Chrono, and don’t rip her in half tonight!”

A blush lightly burned on his face as the innuendo sank into the both of them.

Rosette wasn’t too far gone to yelp in humiliation before going slack of his shoulder, letting the demon take her drunken self to the bedroom they shared.

He refused to sleep any farther away then by her side at night.

Naturally, he used his newly adopted form when he did sleep, but now he didn’t have to worry about thriving on her soul anymore.

Flinging the blond onto the bed, he smirked as his eyes settled on her heaving chest.

One devoid of that cursed watch.

Because there was nothing to count down anymore, thank God.

Rosette stared up at him, warily waiting for him to either head to the john so she could split for more alcohol, or do… dammit, anything that got him out there. Climbing to her knees only to fall face-first into the blankets, the alcohol hit her like a ton of bricks.

What was worse was that she knew how a ton of bricks felt.

Gentle hands slid underneath her shoulders and rolled her onto her back and a beautiful Chrono’s lap.

He was so pretty.

So pretty when there was two of him, she realized as she lifted a shaking hand to one of the beautiful Chronos above her.

Red eyes watched in amusement as callused figners traced his jawline.

His contractor was such a silly drunk.

The trembling fingers tapped his lips in an attempt to caress his face.

Grasping the young woman’s hand, he kissed the fingertips before setting it back down on Rosette’s chest.

She reeked of the foul brew known as brandy.

She was so vulnerable too.

That had to have been the only reason he was still sitting there.

Sister Kate would toss her habit if she had seen them now.

Sister Kate would scream had she watched Chrono undo Rosette’s dress and help her out of it.

She would flip her wig (did she even wear a wig) had she saw the way Chrono ran his hands possessively along the blond’s curves, only to pull her closer as he knelt in front of her, burying his face into her stomach.

Sister Kate would shoot Chrono full of Gospels (and Rosette as well) had she seen the flush on her dear’s face, hair tumbling as Rosette kicked her head back in a cry of pleasure.

Sister Kate would explode if she watched a half-sealed Chrono thrust into the young woman, only to see him sink his fangs into the soft skin of his human’s neck.

Thankfully, Sister Kate was on the other side of the country.

Literally.

So she couldn’t see the flushed face of Rosette as she panted, whimpered, pleaded for Chrono to go faster, harder, deeper only to gasp as a clawed hand toyed along her body.

So she couldn’t see a long tongue flick inside the moist depths as purple hair stood out between the pale flesh of Rosette’s thighs.

And especially so she couldn’t see as their bodies collapsed, spent and tangled on the bed.

But the one thing that he was grateful being cross-country from the juggernaut–

–was so that Sister Kate couldn’t see them go back at it in the morning.