just like little girls and boys, playing with their little toys [jett PG-13]

[Violet Rossfields]

Exhausted. Violet was exhausted, and there was no other word for it. She was exhausted and bored, and thus had no reason to force herself to stay up any longer. Since was Medea was out and away Merlin knows where, unable to persuade her from the granny-like hour at which she would be retiring, Violet began her nightly bedtime ritual slowly and brightly, humming quietly to herself as she brushed her long red hair out.

Having felt a little, well, disgusting lately, Violet decided to throw on a sexy-little-something that a would-be suitor had sent her over the summer. But the stupid boy was an assistant of her father's, and while she'd been able to hide the beautiful nightgown, the love letters had been a little less easy to keep concealed. Not that the feelings were reciprocated; but Violet had been so enjoying letting him think they were... Shame.

Throwing on her loose grey robe, reluctantly due to the heat and letting it hang around her shoulders loosely for pure decency's sake should someone wander into her room, Violet headed for her bed, leaning against the side casually and letting her thoughts wander. She still hadn't taken her makeup off, and after a moment of pondering she strode back towards the bathroom, washing her face until it was clean and natural, her hair brushed back away from her face. While some would think she looked her most beautiful natural, her freckles standing out, her eyes clear and makeupless, her skin glowing and pink, clean, Violet hated the sight of herself un-made up.

Sighing and leaning against her bed once more, Violet pulled herself up so that her long, bare legs hung over the side, sitting back against her headboard, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of her quilt. So little had happened thusfar in the school year that it was really remarkable, or perhaps rather unremarkable. Her little letter tiff with Jett was really the most exciting thing that had happened to her the whole year so far, and while she regretted thinking about it, the memory still brought a small smile to her lips.

[Jett Leighton]

His senses were pounding as twilight set in. It was something in the nature of Jett's blood to come alive in the evenings - if not for classes, he'd quite frankly probably sleep through the day. The mind of the brooding boy was incredibly active, churning with considerations, thoughts that often started him pacing the halls of Braeden past dark. Tonight was no exception that rule - except tonight, instead of wandering aimlessly through the echoing halls of the institution, he had a purpose. His steps fell with heavy familiarity on the stone floor of the corridors as he left his dormitory, hands tucked as always in his beloved leather jacket, black hair falling just a bit in his eyes - need a trim, he supposed. He tossed his head to remove it and continued, lips in a thin line as his mind twisted unpleasantly with a single notion that this school year had brought to a sickening, unacceptable forefront.

Jett and Violet had always played the same game. Hatred, loathing, in public, seething glances and total verbal humiliation or bickering whenever possible. She even afforded him the occasional slap when he crossed the line with his remarks. He couldn't help it. There was something deep within him that hated the whole charade. The hard-arsed Jett Leighton had a very secret soft spot for the Queen of Braeden, and frankly, it drove him to the brinks of hell. She was like a drug to him - he had been enchanted by her from their first meeting, and she consumed his thoughts more than anything else. Violet, of course, used this to her advantage, but Jett, in his own way, was using her as well. He got what he wanted - mostly. It was beginning to come clear to him that with each passing day he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the entire situation.

While it wasn't exactly often, he still had Violet. And quite frankly, Jett didn't give a flying fuck if it was public or not. What was eating at him as he made his march to her dormitory had nothing to do with the privacy of their relationship, the nature of it, the demands of it. If Jett had a choice, everything he did would have been a secret. It was just how he like it. The problem was a minute detail; a dreadfully annoying, rat bastard of a detail - Nate Fox. While Jett didn't feel a bit threatened by him alone, he was feeling highly threatened by Violet's interest in him. His possessiveness had flared before, but it had never been powerful enough to stir the animal rage within him. Tonight, he was boiling with this anger. Violet was pushing him, and she knew that she was - blatantly ignoring his requests to see her, throwing herself all over Fox, dangling herself in front of him and then, the ultimate, 'I don't want you.'

Her taunt lingered heavily on his mind as he unsympathetically forced a scraggly first year into providing him access into the Dovenbell dormitories, and with his long strides he made it to the door of her room in seconds. Jett didn't care if here roommates were here or not - they needed to have a discussion. He pushed the door open abruptly and slammed it behind him, opening his mouth to say something before the predator in him was distracted by a pair of long, gorgeous legs peering from beneath her silken robe. Shite. He held back curses, his eyes still narrowed dangerously, before unclinching his fists and finding words in his throat to speak, all the while annoyed at the idea that Violet thought herself unattractive (in a sense) without make-up. She was bloody gorgeous. He knew she knew; the urge to tell her was therefore resisted in favor of what he really wanted to say.

"We need to talk." He reached behind him and locked the door with a powerful finality, stripping off his jacket and tossing it into the chair of her vanity. "Right fucking now."

[Violet Rossfields]

At the sound of her door being flung open and then slammed shut, Violet quickly hugged her robe closer to her body, spinning to glare at the flustered and confusing figure of Jett Leighton. A brief moment passed between them, and she couldn't help but notice his dark eyes roam over her legs as they stared at each other for a bewildered second. But the moment passed as soon as it had come, and he was advancing on her, growling, demanding, confusing.

"Jett, go AWAY." she hissed, tying her robe as securely as she could but, much to her sudden dismay, unable to cover her long silky legs and instead hiding behind her bed. Self-consciously, Violet did her best to resist the urge to turn her makeup-less face away, not wanting Jett to see her in such a natural state. Tucking a red lock behind her ear and looking down at the floor, Violet cleared her throat, not wanting to look at the boy who was still standing there obtrusively in her room.

Sighing and chewing her lip uncomfortably, she somehow managed to pull them apart after a long and uncomfortable silence, her voice sounding timid and weak after her assertive and powerful spurning only a few moments prior. "What do you want, Jett?" She was hidden behind her bed, but still felt uncomfortable having him in his bedroom, especially with Medea out and due to return who knew when, but most likely not soon enough to save her.

[Jett Leighton]

Jett's feet remained planted just beyond her closed door, his mind struggling with the difficulty raging within him. His affection for Violet made it extremely difficult for him to express his anger with her, even with a temper as volatile as he had; the weak timber of her voice in her last statement made him even more reluctant to begin the tirade he had waiting behind his lips. Instead, he just looked at her for a moment, something reserved only for her in his icy blue eyes, darkened with fury and glimmering with some shade of tenderness. The fact that he could even feel tenderness was shocking, but it was there, and the fact that her voice almost indicated fear, fear of him, made him want to do nothing more than hold her. Dammit. He let out a vicious sigh, looking up at the ceiling for a long moment while he calmed down before drawing his gaze to her once more.

She was ethereal in the twilight streaming through the window. He wished she would stop hiding - he had seen her legs before, although her face without make-up was a rarity. Finally uprooting his feet, he walked slowly to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to face him, his stomach clinching uncomfortably as the scent of her hit him all at once. It moments like these, he really hated his incredible senses. After a moment, he dropped her hand and ran one of his own through his hair, finally deigning to speak. "I'm not going to hurt you, Violet."

Another pause, and then he continued. "I'm tired of playing games with you. I can't -" He stopped, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, and turned his back to her, taking a few steps away as if it would save him the feeling. "I can't watch you fuck around with whomever you please and be fine with it. It makes me...bloody Merlin, Violet, it pisses me off." Jett turned his head so that he was barely glancing over his shoulder at her, eyes strangely bright in the moon rising beyond the window. "And the thought of someone..." His teeth gritted at the thought. "...someone like Nate Fox with his hands on you...it sends me over the edge."

Turning suddenly, he looked at her, his expression powerful and dark, pained and resolute. "What do you want, Violet? Who do you want?."

[Violet Rossfields]

As Jett forcefully grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, Violet tried her hardest to stifle the leap of longing deep in her stomach and did her best to keep on her weakening mask of revulsion. She was only human, really, and being this close to a boy while half naked would make anybody excited. but really, this was Jett Leighton...

Intensely Violet did her best to manage her stony features, and as Jett drew away just a little, stating that he wasn't going to hurt her and going on his little tirade, she took advantage of the moment to set her mouth firm against him. As long as she kept her teeth locked, her jaw firm, she would be able to maneuver skillfully through this and move on, get out of the room, make Jett go away.

With someone like Nate Fox... Was he- was Jett jealous? Was he honestly jealous of Nate, jealous of the thought of violet being with him? The minister's daughter was hit with such a confusing mixture of emotions that she didn't honestly know how to react. Whether she should be shocked that he cared that much or repulsed or honored or charmed or what! This was a side of Jett she had rarely seen. He was so intense yet so... gentle with her. Even though there was a fire burning in his eyes, his hold on her wrist had been tender, and careful, as if he might break her if he was too rough.

As his harsh question was spat out at her, Violet didn't know what to say. She could be earnest, say what she was feeling, that she wanted Jett and wouldn't stop him if he tried to take what he needed. But there was no way she could, after years of their games of tug of war, just give up like that. Setting her chin firmly, she tilted it upwards, huffing lightly.

"Whatever or whomever I want," she said icily, "is most certainly not you"

[Jett Leighton]

The sudden twitch in Violet's expression caused Jett to pause for a moment. Dammit. Moments of weakness were what she fed on, just as he did, and shit had he given her fuel for fire. Why had he brought Nate into it? Fuck! Mirroring hers, his face hardened almost instantly and struggled with internally while she bore those beautiful, hardened green eyes into his skull and returned the intensity he'd given. It only reminded him why he craved her. She was strong, unbreakable to a point, beautiful, and her temperament was no better than that of a King Cobra. These stunning similarities that they shared were only part of why Jett was currently feeling all of his blood rush downward. He didn't move, however, and waited as she replied to him, her voice just as achingly cool as ever. Jett, however, didn't believe her. He could smell the lust, first of all, but he could also sense the lie, the same lie she always told him when it wasn't a good time, when she had face to save.

It was lucky that the wall behind Violet was bare, that there was nothing between her back and the cold stone of the dormitory. Because in seconds Jett had crossed two steps to her, wrapped his hands around the sides of her waist and pushed her into it, not hard but with enough force for it to make a statement. His body followed his hands -he was barely an inch away from that perfect form with his own rather God-like physique, and he lowered his head slightly, icy blue eyes matching hers attitude for attitude, ferocity for ferocity, and stubbornness for stubbornness. Where her eyes were full of defiance, however, his were purely predatory, carnal, and impossibly heated. Her rejections fueled his determinations; her bending fueled his desire. This was no different, except it was. Jett was not going to walk away from this with nothing but his word. He would going to walk away from this with or without Violet, and he intended to make that painfully and utterly clear.

With, of course, was a flexible term, but was better than without.

He glared for only a second before lowering his head just enough that he could feel her heart pounding, the artery in her neck reverberating through his skull at the proximity. Their lips hovered a mere centimeter from each other. Neither of them blinked. Finally, the boy spoke, his voice dark, heavy, and impossibly thick with the desire he was finding it hard to stifle. "Violet, you're lying."

It was matter-of-fact, and he didn't give her a chance to deny it. Instead, he closed the minimal space between their bodies and mouths after only a breath, pinning her against the wall with his form as his hands lifted to cradle her head for his kiss. His fingers slipped into her hair, and then, suddenly, he released her, mouth and body, only, however, giving minute space between them as before. He breathed huskily and just looked at her, going over her bodily responses in his mind for a moment. She was a good liar, but not when it came to Jett. He knew the wiles of the women under his hands far, far too well.

[Violet Rossfields]

It took Violet quite some time to realize that she'd stopped breathing the moment Jett had swooped in and completely closed the space between them, his lips hovering millimeters above hers for what felt like years. She did her best to deny the trembling of her slender hands, the butterflies in her gut, and the rapid rising and falling of her chest.

Oh god. Oh god oh god. She needed to do something to stop this. So many things would be lost if she let it continue. Desperately, Violet did her best to cling to reality as firmly as she was clinging to Jett, her green eyes foggy as they looked up at him, her eyebrows knit together in lightheaded indecision.

She WAS lying. It was true. As Jett pressed his lips fervently, ardently against hers, Violet pressed her own back with equal ferocity. When his hands found their way into her hair she mimicked the motion, even going so far as to bring her leg up to meet his hip unconsciously. Every movement of his was matched by one equally hungry move of her own, and by the time Jett pulled away to breathe she was panting, looking up at him with a curious mixture of feelings that she couldn't explain.

But there was no way she'd admit that to him, nor be the first to kiss him again. She merely looked up at him, trying to fight away the imploring look making its way into her big green eyes, trying to clear her head, and failing miserably. This was most likely inevitable. May as well enjoy it.

[Jett Leighton]

There was a very powerful moment between them as Violet's leg began to slowly return to earth while Jett's pulse continued to skyrocket into space. He wasn't like most men in that he wasn't hot, not in the conventional sense, from the testosterone pulsing through them -his temperature remained cool inordinately. He was hot, however, in the sense that his breathing was shallow and that his eyes had changed. Their usual icy blue had darkened impossibly to a color only indicative of the animal creeping over his shoulder. He was, in these small moments, extraordinarily happy that he wasn't a full vampire, that beyond the constant tests of his control, he could enjoy very basic, human moments. One of his hands fell from her hair, the other drawing downward so that his thumb could graze her mouth, her jawline, and her pulse, before sliding around the nape of her neck as he pressed his body hard against hers. She was completely pinned to the wall, as gently as he could manage, and before her leg slid further down, he hooked it with his dropped hand beneath her bent knee and pulled it back up to his waist, bringing them even more intimately close together.

All of this was done in heated silence, intense quiet that held a mixture of lust, uncertainty, stubbornness, and the pure, unadulterated ferocity that practically bled from each of their pores. Her eyes matched his despite their darkening, just as hardened as ever, but they were different, too -no longer a wall, no longer a denial. It was more like an agreement, a truce. Jett only looked for a moment more before releasing a low growl he couldn't possibly contain any longer and tilting her head sideways so that his lips and teeth could graze her ear, her neck, her jaw, his heart beating more quickly as their pulses matched. His lips drew kisses over that porcelain skin until they found her mouth, where he wasted no time with eyelids heavy on pretenses. Jett cupped her lower lip between his and sucked gently for a moment, nibbling before deepening the kiss and pulling her leg a little higher on his hip. She wasn't telling him no. She wasn't giving him any indication to stop. She was hot and subtle under his hands, just like before -except this time, it felt much, much more loaded.

[Violet Rossfields]

Ugh, this was going to happen, wasn't it? There was no way stopping it now. Her brain was screaming bloody murder at her heart and loins, shrieking at the decision that her body was clearly making for her as she let him roam his mouth over her body, let him pull her leg up on his hip, let him have his way. In a final sign of defeat, Violet slid her eyes closed, pulling him closer with her leg and hands, and kissing him imploringly. Shit.

She was in deep, no pun intended. As she found herself sighing his name and clinging to him like they were old lovers, Violet knew what was going to happen tonight without question. It had pretty much been decided. Now all there was was to find a way to tell Jett without being a complete weirdo.

But he probably knew already. He could probably tell, dense as he was, what was going on. What WAS going on? Violet was giving up her virginity. No! That was her biggest power! That was what she held most over... the male population as a whole! She couldn't just give that up!

Frantically, Violet did her best to resist, trying to push Jett's hands away. But the idiot clearly just took that as an invitation for more, and slid his hands up her body, preparing for Merlin knows what kind of violation! Resist, Violet! Resist! she told herself angrily, trying to force her eyes open, trying to force him away. And failing miserably.

"Jett-" she finally managed, breathlessly, "Jett, virginity... wait... ack!"

[Jett Leighton]

Jett was in another world.

His pulse was pounding in his ears and still he heard her sigh; it was like a drug, even a taste of blood, on his tongue. He didn't survive off of it, but that didn't mean it wasn't a pleasure. The fact that she wasn't pushing him away would have initially deterred him had he not been so heated when this all began; it wasn't like her at all to accept this for more than a few minutes unless it was on her own terms, but here they were, together, and Jett was spiraling beyond the uncomfortable reality he called him. The predatory, controlling, and protective instincts written into his genes were simmering to the surface; he had to fight for some measure of care or he was sure he would break her. Her porcelain skin was hot beneath his hands and he reveled in it before picking her up just slightly around the waist, one hand still cradling her head, and laid her across the bed, pulling back from their kisses to look at her as she feebly pushed his hands away in a motion he had misinterpreted moments before in his oblivion.

She wasn't as into this as he had originally assumed. He was about to close himself off again, disappear into the halls of Braedan and leave her to blush under memories and dreams, but she spoke. Instead of getting angry, storming off, he froze, and looked at her, his expression one of shock. Standing up, gazing at her slender form propped upon elbows, lingerie slightly askew, he tried to rationalize the information. Violet...a virgin? He had always assumed...well, her teasing was just in her nature, right? It was surprising to him that the teasing had never led to more with anyone; in fact, he had thought that she only denied him for sport. All this time...but why? Jett knew her well enough to guess.

Very quietly, levelly, with no trace of emotion but curiosity in his voice, he spoke. "Why?"

The lust and affection he felt for her had not decreased in the slightest, but he stayed away for the moment, wanting an answer to his question. Most of all, he wanted to be sure that he wasn't being a brute. It silently annoyed him that Halpsen was more of a human that he was in the ways of manners and social graces; and while Jett typically just ignored the annoyance, he couldn't be that in privacy with Violet -unless provoked. It was a silent wish in his mind now -don't provoke me, Violet. Just talk to me.

After a moment of her silence, he drew a little closer, giving in and sitting on the bed next to her, eyes dark with desire matching her own, never straying from her face. "Why?"

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