Chapter Twenty-Seven | No Appetite

Around five-thirty that evening, Warren came out of seclusion. A plume of smoke escaped from behind him as he walked through the mist; in reality, he'd just been smoking a lot. Warren enjoyed the occasional cigarette but had been known to up the ante when stressed. Collectively, he smelled of liquor, leather, and tobacco when he passed Karou on the way to his bedroom.

Inside, Warren shed his T-shirt and changed into a casual sage green button-down. Rolling up the sleeves to his elbows, he popped into the bathroom, where Karou heard the tell-tale sounds of toothbrushing and his electric razor. Trimming his beard at any other time than the morning told Karou he was getting ready for an occasion.

Warren confirmed her suspicions when she heard him making a phone call; he requested that someone bring him a dining table from storage. Karou presumed she would have to make herself scarce again for the second evening in a row. For now, he said nothing and passed by and into the kitchen.

Karou sprang up from the couch and poked her head around the corner. "Are you having a dinner party by any chance?"

"Yes. Why, you're not offering your culinary expertise, are you?" Warren joked while standing before the fridge, gathering several ingredients onto the island near a chopping board.

"Ha! Luckily for you, no, I'm not," Karou gauged that he wasn't in too bad a mood, "uhm, when is your dinner party starting?"

"We won't be eating early, probably around seven," Warren set a large roasting pan on the countertop and placed a plump chicken into it. He seasoned the bird before sorting through the array of vegetables he had laid out on the work surface. "Why?"

"I was just wondering when you needed me to leave, that's all," Karou admitted as she watched him and quickly found herself lost in a daydream. The scent of cigarettes and liquor had been replaced by mint and cologne, but mostly, she watched his hands and forearms. She found them arousing in their distinctive masculinity. A modest display of his strength, she mused. Something about the way the veins, muscles, and tendons twisted and flexed under his skin made her want to hold onto herself tight. Maybe that way, she could assimilate a fraction of what it might feel like to be held by such strong and safe-looking arms and be caressed by his capable, dexterous hands.

"You're not staying?" Warren asked, symbolically cutting Karou's daydreaming short as he pulled a sufficiently large knife from the block. Unassumingly, he began chopping his way through the vegetables before adding them in a circle around the chicken in the roasting pan.

"Uh... I didn't think I would be invited," Karou stuttered as she pulled herself from her daze. "besides, I've... got nothing to wear."

"You are invited. Magnus would like you to be there, and I know you have plenty of dresses because I brought them," Warren turned to glance at the oven; it was just about getting to temperature.

"A dress?"

"Or not. Wear whatever you like, but why did you keep them if you're not going to wear them when the occasion arises?"

"Alright, I guess I could wear a dress, but I don't think you'd enjoy the atmosphere if I joined your birthday dinner. After what happened earlier, I doubt Magnus likes me very much; he seemed kinda mad. And Ellis, well, she's never liked me."

"Magnus was angry with me, not you. You were just brutally honest. He thought I might've changed, hoped you'd had a positive effect on me."

"Are you angry at me, then?"

"Not angry, no. I wish that what you said wasn't true... For your sake," Warren's meal prep continued until he was finished, and he set down his knife with a great sigh. "I know what you said wasn't a complete lie, but I don't understand why you said it when you did. You said it as if to defend me somehow. Do you really think I don't like you? That I hate spending my spare time with you? And… Karou, you know I don't dislike your scent, don't you?"

Karou finally glanced at his face, and his expression was one she'd never witnessed before; he was desperately trying to navigate through his confusion. Usually, it was her reeling off question after question, but now he'd posed three to her in a matter of moments. She had to respond carefully. "Well, Magnus was getting ahead of himself when you mentioned I wanted to be sired. When he jumped to the conclusion that you would do it, I wanted to dash that in case it made you angry. I hoped I was being truthful for your sake, but I might have gone a bit overboard on the honesty front. I assumed it wouldn't matter to him; I thought he would think something like, 'Ah, that's just Warren being Warren'. I mean, I think that sometimes, for brief moments, you like me and enjoy our evenings together, but I'm not entirely sure I grasp your feelings about my scent.

"And the rest of the time, you think I'm indifferent toward you?" Warren didn't want to divulge his thoughts on her scent; if he did, their discussion could quickly get off-piste.

"Yeah. I get it, though. I am sorry I'm such an inconvenience."

"You were, at first. But… I like you for longer periods than 'snippets', Karou."

"Like a whole day? Like when we went to the lake?" she paused with a hopeful smile. "That was a great day."

"More like thirteen months. Now, go start getting ready for dinner. They'll probably arrive early, and I've got to set up the table yet."

"But I haven't been here for thirteen months..."

"No, but I first met you in August last year, remember? Why do you think I didn't attack you, hm? It might've seemed like I tolerated you, but it was because our meetings' timing was less than ideal, and the circumstances were... are difficult. Well, that and, as you often remind me, I am kind of a jerk when it comes to being sociable. Now… Go put on a dress."

Stunned by what he'd said, she followed his request and wandered into the bathroom, mulling it all over. Who the hell is this guy, and what has he done with the real Warren?

Once she was showered and had pampered herself more than was routine, Karou exited the bathroom and went into her bedroom to collect some clothes. Standing before the mirror in the hall, in her underwear, Karou placed one dress over herself and then another, picking between them all while keeping an eye out for Warren; she could hear he was still busy in the kitchen, out of sight. Eventually, she settled on a simple strappy summer dress in a lilac shade of purple with some pretty floral embroidery on the chest panel. She accompanied that with a light grey cardigan and remained barefoot for now as she wandered back into the unit's main living space.

One of the Compound's staff had delivered a dismantled dining table to the unit, and Warren had assembled the parts and placed chairs before the four place settings. While he was distracted by finishing setting the table by arranging the wine glasses, Karou came to be standing across the table from him and asked a question that weighed heavily on her heart: "When you said you liked me, what were you really trying to say?"

"During the times I'm less than nice to you, it's not because I don't like you. Is that enough?" he knew it was cliché to make the 'it's not you, it's me' excuse, but it was true. Though he didn't look at her when he said it, he smiled in that lop-sided way she liked when he finally did.

"It's enough to know you don't hate me, yeah," Karou nodded; this was a truce. "Dinner smells good. Can I eat it?"

"Yes, I made sure you can eat it. Wouldn't it be inconsiderate of me to cook something that the only person at this dinner party who actually depends on food to survive couldn't eat?" he grinned, laughing breathily.

"Hmm, I guess, but it is your birthday. It would suck if you didn't have something you enjoyed."

"I'll enjoy the occasion no matter the food, Karou, don't worry. Oh, just one thing… Please make sure you sit next to Magnus."

Karou nodded, figuring he must want to sit next to Ellis.

Before long, their dinner guests arrived. Magnus made a B-line for Karou. He hugged her, kissed her cheeks, and told her how pretty she looked. It was a sweet gesture, but she didn't take him too seriously. Together, they went into the kitchen, where Magnus poured her a glass of wine from the bottle he'd brought along with him. As she sipped it, he filled her in on the wine's vintage and list of flavours to note. She knew so little about wine it all went over her head, and honestly, she still didn't enjoy the taste.

Meanwhile, in the lounge, Ellis and Warren seemed to make amends. "My jealousy got the better of me; I know now that it was unfounded. I've no cause to feel that way," Ellis said as she smoothed out the fabric of Warren's shirt over his chest. He listened to what she said and understood the underlying meaning—she meant to say that he had this evening to prove to her that she had no reason to be jealous that he lived with Karou. His birthday dinner was forecast to be taxing. Trying to be friendlier to Karou and not to dispel what he'd only just told her while playing Ellis' game and convince her that he had eyes for no one else but her. Warren could already feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. He steered Ellis towards the dining table and promptly left her there, promising to return with alcohol.

"I know you're trying to protect Karou from her, but do you think you can subdue her a little? She's already making hidden threats," Warren said, thinking that Magnus was alone. When Karou peered around the Spaniard's arm, Warren froze.

"If me being here really is going to ruin your dinner, I can just leave," Karou offered.

"Nonsense, you've put on that pretty dress. I'll deal with my wife. You two have some wine and relax, okay?" Magnus disappeared from the kitchen with a bottle of wine, hoping to mellow the viper sitting at the dining table.

"He's so sweet. He's only been here five minutes, and I think he's told me how pretty I am at least as many times," Karou chuckled into her wine as she took a sip. "D'you want some wine?"

"I think I'm going to need something stronger." Warren poured himself a generous glass of scotch and necked it back before pouring another; the speed at which he'd begun drinking alarmed Karou, so when he brought his third glass halfway to his lips, she set her hand on his wrist to stop him.

"Whoa! Easy there. It won't just be Magnus spouting nonsense if you carry on like that."

"You do look pretty," Warren lowered the glass, understanding her point, but he downed his third drink regardless of her hand, "but I won't make it through dinner sober."

"Liquor makes you lie."

"No, it doesn't. I lie whether I'm drunk or not," Warren defended, but Karou gave him a look of disbelief as she sipped at her drink.

"I thought we didn't lie to each other?"

"We don't. I told you I wasn't drunk last night, but you still don't believe me, do you?"

"I'm going to sit at the dinner table now and try to forget that you brought that up at a time like this. You need to eat something or start drinking water. Your tongues' already loose."

"Hmph! Seems liquor has affected someone else's mood; that wine's made you sassy."

Karou smirked and walked away.

The food was laid out down the centre of the table, and they'd all served themselves. Karou did as Warren requested and sat next to Magnus. Warren guarded her against Ellis even further by sitting across from her, which meant she had the task of not meeting his eyes too often. Warren didn't heed Karou and chose to stick to scotch. He ate a small portion and didn't touch a single drop of water throughout their meal. Overall, the dinner had gone quite well, and once things started to wind down, Karou quickly realised why Warren insisted on getting so drunk. Ellis was all over him, casting snide glances her way any chance she got. Magnus pretended to be oblivious, stuck to enjoying the company of Warren and herself, and kept the conversation alive, light and hilarious.

Inevitably, their guests left, but Karou knew the drill; Ellis would be back. She helped Warren clear the table and washed up while he dried. She'd shed her cardigan to save her sleeves from getting wet and thought nothing of it until she could feel Warren's eyes burning into her bare skin. The silence between them grew heavier. When he set the dish towel aside, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

With her hands still submerged in the sink, Karou froze, waiting to find out what he would do. When she felt Warren push his body into her back, she squeezed the cloth tighter. When his fingers pulled her hair back so he could access her neck and shoulders and Warren's lips set against her skin, a shiver ran down her spine. When the strong hands she'd been dreaming about held onto her hips and pulled her back against his own, Karou grasped the side of the sink with white knuckles. Seduced by his forwardness, she pressed herself back against him, and it wasn't long until she yielded a whimpered, the kind that tormented and delighted him. His eagerness grew, and it would've been easy to be swept away, but Karou couldn't help worrying about the cause of his actions and the consequences. She wondered whether, now that he'd taken one bite out of her, she had unwittingly become part of some blood pact. Had she made a vow to become all of his meals?

"W-Warren, Wh-What are you doing?"

"The best things tend to happen when I stop thinking," he mumbled behind her ear, "don't you agree?"

"But you're drunk and…" she was sure the amount of scotch he'd consumed inspired him and nothing more. He seemed so out of it, his movements so trance-like; allowing him to carry on felt wrong. It made her feel dirty even to consider letting him continue. "Ell—" her breath caught in her throat as he continued to kiss down her shoulder and boldly tugged the strap of her dress down with his teeth, "Ellis will be coming back."

"Hmmm, I am drunk. But I'm not lying. This isn't a lie. Liquor gives me the courage to reach for you," Warren explained as his hands wrapped around Karou's waist and nuzzled his face into the hot spot on her neck where her blush began. "Ellis might show up, that's true, but not yet..."

Not yet? That made her feel horribly objectified! Now Karou was certain that stopping him was the right thing to do. Holding back the tears of anger that she could feel filling up her lower eyelids, she quickly found the strength to push Warren's arms away and turned about to glare at him. "That being the case, I don't want to be your appetiser!"

"She can go to hell! I'm tired of being a pawn in her game."

"Well, I'm not going to be a pawn in yours! You can't pick me up and use me when you're bored of Ellis' games."

"That was never my intention," Warren backed away in respect of Karou's refusal. He picked up the dish towel and held out his hand for another clean dish to show he was willing to make amends—they could go back to washing dishes together as though nothing had happened, even if when he licked his lips, he could still taste her on them.

Silently agreeing to dismiss the whole thing, Karou turned back to the sink. "When do you think Ellis will arrive?" she asked, passing him a utensil to dry.

"Magnus spiked her last few glasses of wine, so she won't be bothering me tonight," Warren admitted casually.

"You said that so matter-of-factly I'm not sure if you're telling the truth."

"We can wait for her if you don't believe me?" Warren suggested with a deadpan expression. Equally as calm, he reached out and placed the strap of her dress back into place on her shoulder. "It'll be a long night."