Insomnia

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine was sprawled on her bed, arms and legs spread wide as she stared at the ceiling. She was in the one pair of cotton pants she had, a pair of yoga pants, and a baggy t-shirt, her hair a mess around her head. There was no way she was going to sleep. Micah was out on the couch, though she was tempted to just pull him in to her room and force him to lay beside her to see if that helped her sleep. How did one sleep? She found herself contemplating this and she stared at her stark white ceiling. It wasn’t just shutting your eyes like they did in the movies. There was more to this sleep business. She tried relaxing, but that only got her into a light nap sleep. The best she achieved with that was an hour and then she woke up again. At first it was frustrating, but now she had just given up. What was the point in getting angry? It didn’t help anything. Since she had woken up the day before at two in the afternoon, she had dealt with a lot of calls and panic and while she was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t come. So here she was, staring at her ceiling and doing nothing. It wasn’t helping a damn thing.

She pushed herself out of bed and shuffled out to the living room after running her hands through her hair to fix it some. Micah was awake too, which she was glad for, and she continued shuffling until she was next to the couch. She pushed his long legs off the end of the couch playfully and curled up on the end, looking at him. “Any luck sleeping?” she asked, resting her head on the arm of the couch. His answer made her sigh and she pressed her fingers into the corners on her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The best I got was an hour.” Her eyes opened again to his. He looked as exhausted as she felt. It made her just want to curl into him and see if that helped her sleep, but she refrained from doing so. They had danced and she had rested her head on his chest the night before last, but nothing further had happened with that. Their banter stayed playful, though, and she was glad they at least hadn’t taken a step backward. “How do humans do this sleep thing?” she muttered, looking out her tall windows to the storm. The darkness what was doing this to them and she was certain Mordecai’s murder had everything to do with this. It had been a cruel death, one which he didn’t deserve. He may have been naïve, but the man was a genius and he had been a good leader. Such a waste of a good life…

She looked back to him and stretched her legs out over top of his as a good-humored gesture, smiling wide. “Got any ideas, Gunnery Sergeant?” she asked playfully. Drinking coffee wasn’t going to do either of them any good, considering they did need sleep, and that was going to wake them up. What could they do to fall asleep?

[MICAH STOKES]

The storm that was looming over Scriptor Bay wasn't going anywhere. And neither were the gargoyles apparently. Their stone figures were lost to them and they were left all but human it seemed. Micah had mixed feelings about not turning during the day at first, when others seemed to find it to be the greatest thing that had ever happened in their lives. It wasn't as if they could go outside and bask in the sun though. It was dark and depressing out so it didn't even look like it was day in his mind.

As the days rolled by Micah found himself growing more and more weak. Exhaustion was setting in and he even looked haggard and worn down. When it was time to actually try to sleep though, he just couldn't figure out how it worked. He laid there on the couch and stared up at the ceiling most of the time but every so often he'd shut his eyes and pretend he was sleeping. He didn't know how to actually fall asleep, and the longer he laid there with his eyes shut he just found himself thinking about anything and everything.

He heard Eponine coming out of her room and opened an eye to peek at the woman in her casual house clothes. When she came over and pushed his legs off the couch he sat up to give her more room and cleared his throat. "Any luck sleeping?" His hand came up to his face and with the bottom of his palm he rubbed at his right eye. They were growing dry and itchy from the insomnia that set in. "None." He replied gruffly.

"The best I got was an hour." He nodded and slumped, putting his back against the sofa and just sort of sitting there sluggishly. "How do humans do this sleep thing?" He shrugged and turned his head just enough so he could lazily look over at her. "Their bodies are made for sleeping. Ours aren't."

He watched her as she put her legs up on his lap but he didn't make any sort of comment about it. It was like at the masquerade when she put her head on his chest. At first it was strange but then it actually felt sort of nice, and when she had lifted her head up he'd missed it there. It was nice to have someone there in such a stressful time. "Got any ideas, Gunnery Sergeant?" He snorted and shook his head but midway through it was like he got an idea and looked up at her. "Alcohol."

It sounded like a stupid idea but he'd seen humans pass out from consuming too many alcoholic beverages all the time. "Do you have any? If we drink enough maybe it will help. I wouldn't object to passing out roaring drunk." It was a suggestion at least.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine smiled as Micah snorted, shaking his head, and she rested her head on the arm of the couch again. “Alcohol.” The word caught her attention and she looked at him again curiously. She laughed at first because she thought he was kidding, but when she saw he was serious, she stopped and just looked at him surprised. “Do you have any? If we drink enough, maybe it will help. I wouldn’t object to passing out roaring drunk.” Her mouth frowned thoughtfully as her big eyes flitted up to the ceiling. It wasn’t a half bad idea. “Well…I have a lot of wine. I think I have a bottle of Hennessey too…We’re going to have hangovers, though,” she said with a laugh. Still, it was worth a shot. She gave a shrug and swung her legs off his lap and moved to the kitchen.

She had a good selection of red wine in a sealed, precisely cooled glass wine rack installed into her counter. That was one thing she and her cousin shared: they both enjoyed a glass of wine every now and then, and Eponine only collected the best. She didn’t drink terribly often, but it was good to have around and she loved the wine rack she had. She also dug in one of her other cabinets for the bottle of Hennessey she had received as a gift from one of her clients. When she found it, she dragged it out and then fetched two glasses and grabbed a bottle of strong red wine from her stores. She carried it all back to the living room, setting it on the coffee table and then going back to get a bottle opener.

Looking at the coffee table as she was walking back, she laughed softly and shook her head. “I look like such a lush,” she commented, sitting back down on the couch and twisting the corkscrew into the wine bottle first. Her eyes panned back to Micah and she gave him a playfully suspicious look. “I don’t know if I should get drunk with you. It’s probably unprofessional,” she commented. She pushing down either side of the corkscrew to pull the cork up some and normally she would be able to open it from there, but she felt much weaker than normal, and she had to push the sides down again to pull the cork out more. “Do you want wine or cognac? If you want that, it’s all yours. I got that from a client, but I don’t really care for cognac,” she commented. Finally the wine was open and she poured herself a glass before sitting back and taking a sip. Her eyes watched the storm outside and she shook her head. “Do you think it’ll go away?” she asked and it was obvious what she meant since her eyes were fixed on the black clouds.

[MICAH STOKES]

Micah was never a drinker, but he knew that the alcohol tolerance of a gargoyle was much higher than that of a human. But when Eponine set the alcohol along with the glasses down on the table he reached for the bottle of Hennessy. He'd never had Hennessy before but it was worth a shot and he grabbed the bottle and twisted off the top wrapper. Then with a few attempts, which was odd for Micah since he'd always been able to open something on the first attempt, he twisted off the cap and poured himself some of the auburn tinted liquid in his own glass. The comment she made about being unprofessional by drinking with him didn't go unnoticed. He just hadn't answered her right away.

"I think we've gone past a professional relationship," Micah chuckled softly even though it really wasn't that funny. He was just so tired that he didn't really know what to do with himself. "I like to think we're friends by now. If there's anyone out there who wants to come after you... they're probably passed out somewhere right about now." He knew that it would be gargoyles that came looking for her, but really everything had been quiet. Everyone had their own problems and if ever she was safe he felt it was now.

She had asked him if he ever thought the storm would go away and he turned his head to look out the window, seeing the dark clouds rolling by and a flash from lightning. It was awful out there and he had to admit he was glad to be indoors with Eponine, about to get wasted. "Eventually. Everything has to end at some point and the storm is no different." He explained and then brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. He wasn't expecting the sweetness of the alcohol, almost as if it tasted a little bit like wine. And while it went down it was warm... no, it burned going down. His arm went up to sheild his mouth and he started to cough. That was stronger than he expected, but when he was done with his coughing fit he took another sip and was ready for the burn this time.

"This is absolutely disgusting." He told her honestly about the cognac and almost wished he'd gone with wine, but he didn't like wine either. At least cognac was strong. "You have some very rich clients."

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine watched as Micah actually struggled a little to open the Hennessey bottle. The amber liquid looked good going into the glass, but she knew better than to trust it. Cognac was a little too strong for Eponine’s taste…but she might switch to that in order to get drunker faster. After she was done with her glass of strong wine. She took another sip and enjoyed the thickness of it. “I think we’ve gone past a professional relationship. I like to think we’re friends by now.” Eponine was glad he agreed with that notion, though she was the one who had mentioned the lack of professionalism. She did see him as a friend. A smile played on her lips and she nodded. “If there’s anyone out there who wants to come after you…they’re probably passed out somewhere by now.” Eponine gave a short, sardonic laugh and took another drink. “At least that guy can sleep,” she grumbled. Her eyes flitted to the sky outside again. Man did it look so uninvited.

“Eventually. Everything has to end at some point and the storm is no different.” It was a comforting thought and she nodded. At least she was sitting on her couch getting wasted with Micah instead of outside. Eponine liked the comforts of life and she had many of them right there in her apartment. She took another drink, but she was surprised by Micah starting to cough. Apparently the cognac was hard to swallow. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, knowing he must have never had cognac just from that reaction. But he went right back at it and took another drink, this time without the coughing. She watched him with interest, raising her eyebrows. “This is absolutely disgusting.” She just smiled wide, still biting her lip as she nodded with raised eyebrows. “You have some very rich clients.” Eponine gave a soft laugh, draining her glass. She was intent on getting drunk if it would help her sleep. “How else do you think I can afford all this stuff?” she asked with a teasing overtone. She was curious to know how disgusting this cognac was, and it was much stronger than the wine. Her hand gripped the bottle and poured just a shot’s worth in her glass; she didn’t mind the mix of tastes. She shot it back and her face contorted at the taste, though the burn didn’t bother her. With a hard swallow it went down and she shook her head slowly. “That is disgusting,” she agreed, grabbing the wine again and filling her glass once more.

She sank back into the couch, slouching a little as she crossed her skinny legs. “Most of my clients are assholes, I’ve decided. Only assholes would drink that crap regularly and gift it to somebody else,” she announced. When she cursed, it generally surprised people because they didn’t expect it from her soft, smooth voice. Her eyes turned to Micah and she gave a small laugh. “You’re the exception, of course. I don’t think you’re an asshole,” she amended. She looked at the bottle on the table and shook her head. “Know how I got that? One of the council members was congratulating me on a great year at this Christmas party; I hadn’t lost a single case that year and I’d helped him prosecute some punk who slashed the tires of his Bentley. Meanwhile all he could talk about was his two yachts and three houses and how he and his wife were going to spend the winter in their cottage because their mansion was just too cold in the winter. ‘It’s just too big!’ he said with one of those snarky laughs. It sounded like this.” She imitated him with an extremely haughty laugh, her eyebrows moved up on her forehead, giving her a ridiculously nouveau riche look, and she slapped her knee as the council member had done. When she settled again, she raised her eyebrows and nodded as if to say, “Yeah, that really happened.” Her glass came to her lips as she smiled. “Like I said. Assholes,” she said with a shrug, laughing afterward.

[MICAH STOKES]

"That is disgusting," He watched her and smirked at her remark about the cognac. He kept sipping at it and the more he did the less the burn bothered his throat, and he knew if he drank it long enough the burn would likely disappear altogether. "Most of my clients are assholes, I've decided. Only assholes would drink that crap regularly and gift it to somebody else,"

He nearly choked again on the cognac, but this time it was because of what Eponine said more than from the drink itself. He swallowed the bit that was in his mouth and then wiped at the corners of his lips with his fingers in case some might have slipped through when he'd tried not to laugh but his mouth was dry for now. "You're the exception, of course. I don't think you're an asshole," "Are you sure?" He asked and raised a brow at her sarcastically but she was still talking. She probably didn't even hear him and he wondered if maybe she was already feeling some of the effects of the alcohol. He wasn't just yet, but he poured some more of the Hennessy into his glass and kept on sipping it. Disgusting or not it was strong.

"Know how I got that? One of the council members was congratulating me on a great year at this Christmas party; I hadn't lost a single case that year and I'd helped him prosecute some punk who slashed the tires of his Bentley. Meanwhile all he could talk about was his two yachts and three houses and how he and his wife were going to spend the winter in their cottage because their mansion was just too cold in the winter. 'It's just too big!' he said with one of those snarky laughs. It sounded like this." Eponine didn't usually talk this much or in such a relaxed sort of way. She was swearing and talking bad about her clients and he liked it. When she gave a very arrogant look, her brows raised up and the snooty laugh had him roaring with laughter. "Like I said. Assholes," Micah couldn't stop himself from laughing and clamped his free hand over his eyes, shutting them as if that would stop him from laughing but it didn't. When his laughter did die down he sipped the cognac once more, beginning to feel a slight buzz coming on. It was going to take a whole lot of cognac but so far he was doing good.

"It's ridiculous what people do with their money when they have it. The snobby rich men with their two homes and seven cars all equipped with drivers to take them wherever they need to go. If there was ever a type of man I hated, that would be it." He explained and then held his glass up as if to say 'cheers' and then tipped it back against his lips once more, draining the auburn liquid from the glass before setting it down on the table so he could pour some more in. "I'm about equality. I know it doesn't exist but how nice would it be? Every man and woman equal in everything." He paused and took another drink. "But then we'd have nothing to strive for, would we?" He muttered and eyed her glass and then the bottle of wine. She was doing a pretty good job on that bottle on her own.

"There were a few men who had rich fathers in the Marine Corps. Mind you, this was over forty years ago during our last draft where the military didn't care whether you came from money or not. Well, most of the time." He shrugged, knowing there were times when men were able to get out of it because their rich families had connections high up in the government. But most of them didn't have those sorts of connections, especially the men who came from old southern money. "Anyway, they thought they were special. They were shown just how special they were real fast. It was always entertaining watching as they were slowly broken and turned into real men." He'd even befriended a few of them when they had gotten over their cocky selves. That was what the Marines did to men. It turned them from boys into real men who knew discipline and how to treat their fellow man and woman. "You would have made a good drill sargent," he told her and smirked into the glass, practically pouring the alcohol down his throat at this point.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine was laughing watching Micah absolutely roaring with laughter. One of his big hands was covering his eyes as he laughed and she realized she had never seen or heard him laugh like that. She liked it though; it was an infectious laugh and she shook her head as she brought the wine glass to her lips again, giggling into the glass. The buzz was starting to come on, and while she still had a long way to go, she was satisfied with the progress so far. As Micah came down from his laughing, she wondered if he was feeling it too yet. “It’s ridiculous what people do with their money when they have it. The snobby rich men with their two homes and seven cars all equipped with drivers to take them wherever they need to go. If there was ever a type of man I hated, that would be it.” Eponine nodded, agreeing, and she raised her glass with him before taking a drink of wine, though she couldn’t help wondering if maybe she fell into that category. She enjoyed the finer things in life, but she had to think she wasn’t what he was thinking of. She was far from extravagant, though elegant would describe her taste well. “I’m about equality. I know it doesn’t exist but how nice would it be? Every man and woman equal in everything.” All of his talk was surprising her—not that he believed in equality, but the casual nature of their conversation and just how much he was saying…it was a pleasant surprise. How many people got to see this side of her gentle giant, she wondered? “But then we’d have nothing to strive for, would we?” She raised her glass again with a soft smile. “Here, here,” she said before draining her second glass and pouring another. Yeah, she was definitely buzzed at this point. Being skinny had its advantages, she supposed.

“There were a few men who had rich fathers in the Marine Corps. Mind you, this was over forty years ago during our last draft where the military didn’t care whether you came from money or not. Well, most of the time.” She listened with interest, though she noted that he sounded like an old man recounting war stories. It was sweet in its own way. Her wine was going down easily now and while it was a little sour, it was mostly sweet on her tongue as she listened to him reminisce. “Anyway, they thought they were special. They were shown just how special they were real fast. It was always entertaining watching as they were slowly broken and turned into real men.” She gave a quick laugh, shaking her head. “You’re such a Marine,” she teased, finding he sounded like almost the stereotypical war veteran. She took another deep drag from her wine glass, finding she was getting thirsty with all this drinking. “You would have made a good drill sergeant.” She raised her eyebrows, giving him a look of surprise with her heavy eyes. “Oh yeah?” she asked with a big smile. She sat up, setting her glass on the coffee table, uncrossing her legs and moving so she was facing him on the couch, one leg folded under her while the other hung off the edge of the couch. She cleared her throat and straightened herself, actually looking like she was building herself up. Of course, she was so skinny in her casual attire, she was hardly imposing, but she set her face in a stern look. “Drop down and give me twenty, Stokes!” she barked at the top of her lungs. For a moment she sat there glowering at him before her face finally broke and gave in to her laughter. It sent them into another fit of laughter, Eponine bowing her head down to her lap first and then falling sideways into the back of the couch as her whole body shook with laughter. She was so soft spoken by nature that whenever she actually yelled it either came out terrifying or hilarious—this time, it was obviously the latter.

When her laughter died down, she wiped a tear at the corner of her eye that had gathered while she laughed. She sat back up and grabbed her wine glass again; she wasn’t quite tipsy yet, but she was definitely feeling pretty good. She took another sip of wine before she curled both her legs under her, leaning on the back of the couch as she watched him. “I bet you never actually laughed at your drill sergeant,” she commented. “Then again, I’m sure your drill sergeant wasn’t a scrawny, soft spoken lawyer in real life.” She smiled wide again, liking this new more open side of Micah. Maybe she should get him drunk more often. That definitely sounded like a good idea in her buzzed brain.

[MICAH STOKES]

It was the alcohol that was causing Micah to loosen up so much, becoming open and talkative. This wasn't a side of him that he let people see often and the buzz only continued to grow with every mouthful of Hennessy that he downed. The disgusting booze was definitely doing the job for him. He watched Eponine as she tried to build herself up and get ready to drill him while he tried his best to look at her seriously, but it was evident in his eyes that he wasn't as serious as he usually was. How could he take her serious when she was so small compared to him. Not to mention she didn't have the most booming voice, though she did do a good job that night with Goodman, but her voice couldn't reach the depth that it needed to in order to strike fear in someone like Micah. "Drop down and give me twenty, Stokes!" He held his breath and watched her for a long moment before he saw her face giving her away and his in turn did the same. The two of them roaring with laughter and he shook his head. He couldn't believe she'd actually tried to impersonate a drill sargeant but he had to admit it was entertaining.

When he began to settled into just chuckling softly he slouched back into the couch and sipped at the cognac once more. "I bet you never actually laughed at your drill sergeant. Then again, I'm sure your drill sergeant wasn't a scrawny, soft spoken lawyer in real life." It was true. His drill sergeant had been a very hulking man who had been hardened from his years of service. "We used to laugh at our drill sergeant. We just waited until it was on our own time or he might have shot us in the foot." He teased her and gave her a grin.

He didn't think that Eponine was scrawny. In fact he thought she was beautiful, but that was something that he would keep to himself. He liked how small and fragile she looked next to him, the pair of them almost opposites in every single way. But her small frame did make her look like she was an easy target, and maybe if she knew a few tricks she would be able to increase her odds of slipping away from someone who might try to do her harm. Something to just incapacitate them so she could run for help. The thought of someone actually hurting her started to upset him and he drained the rest of the liquor and sat back up. He sloshed more of the liquid into his glass but then he set it down on the table.

"Come on," he instructed as he got up to his feet and had to stand there for a pause to make sure he didn't end up wobbling. He'd gotten up a little faster than he probably should have and he swore the room was moving slowly around him, but the feeling settled down and he walked around the table until he was standing in an open area of her living room. "Get your scrawny butt over here, I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself." It might have sounded weird since he didn't explain why he wanted to teach her, but in his head he'd practically thought the whole thing out. "Before I'm gray if you will." He snorted a bit and had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at his little remark. It was dumb, but he was buzzing pretty bad.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

“We used to laugh at our drill sergeant. We just waited until it was on our own time or he might have shot us in the foot.” Eponine laughed, finding the grin Micah gave her cute. In her intoxicated state, she couldn’t resist those thoughts. Normally alcohol didn’t affect her this quickly, but she did have a semi-empty stomach and she was weak and tired besides. She was pretty sure it would only take a bottle to get her safely drunk, but not so much she would pass out. Looking at her bottle, she realized she was already three quarters of the way through it. When did she drink all of that? She let it go, taking another long drink, realizing she was tasting the wine less the more she drank. As he sat forward to refill his glass, she studied him, really letting herself appreciate how good-looking he was. He was big and hulking, muscle and sinew without being obnoxiously so, and he had a rugged look to that handsome face of his. She liked how big he was, but still gentle one on one with her; she had seen him subdue a man easily, but he rarely showed her that side of him. Around her he was just kind and quiet. And why did it matter that she thought those things? She was definitely smarter with wine in her, allowing herself to notice those things about Micah that she avoided thinking about most of the time.

She took another swallow of wine as Micah stood, her eyes following him. “Come on.” Her brow lowered and she looked at him curious. “Come on, what?” she inquired, maybe sounding a little bossy as she said it. She didn’t care; she was too relaxed to care. He wobbled some and she giggled, knowing he must have been feeling it too. She just watched from her comfy spot on the couch as he moved around the coffee table to the open area. He looked at her and she raised her eyebrows at him. “Get your scrawny butt over here, I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself.” Eponine laughed; she was usually the bossy one, not him, and it was funny to hear him refer to her “scrawny butt.” He was serious though, so she laughed and moved to get off the couch, draining her glass before setting it on the table. “Before I’m gray if you will.” Eponine scoffed, her jaw dropping as she looked at him as if she were appalled. “I thought I was the bossy one,” she teased, laughing a little as she stood. She too wobbled and put her arms out to either side of her as she tried to balance herself, laughing. “I don’t normally get this drunk off that little bit of wine,” she assured before carefully stepping around the coffee table.

As she walked, it got easier to be on her feet. When she was standing in front of him, she faced him, trying to be serious, but feeling very loose. Her hands came to her hips and she cocked her head to the side. “What, I’m not intimidating enough, Stokes?” she demanded playfully. She smiled again and then stood straight and let her arms hang at her sides. “Okay, serious now. What are you going to teach me?” she asked, hoping she would be able to stay balanced while he instructed her.

[MICAH STOKES]

"I don't normally get this drunk off that little bit of wine," He rolled his eyes at her playfully, "Is this some sort of confession?" Micah asked her sarcastically and waited for her to come around the table. He wasn't as patient when he drank as he was on a normal given day and found himself standing there staring at her as if she was the slowest person on the face of the earth. But when she finally came around he smiled at her. "What, I'm not intimidating enough, Stokes?" He snorted at her comment and knew she was only playing with him. "Okay, serious now. What are you going to teach me?"

He made sure he was standing directly across from Eponine and watched her, making sure she stayed still. "More now than ever you should know how to get away from someone who might try to hurt you. One in three human women are attacked." He knew his facts pretty well and figured he might as well educate her on them. Then again he was sure she knew these, being a lawyer she must have had a head full of facts that were useful for her.

"Alright. First thing you do is make a 'v' shape between your thumb and fingers, like this." He stuck his hand out, keeping his fingers together and sticking his thumb out like he was getting ready to choke someone. "When someone comes towards you, grab for their throat first. Squeeze if you have to. Hell, sink your fingers in just as long as you apply pressure to cut off their air passage." He explained, but that was pretty basic and he figured he didn't have to have her practice with that.

"If you can't grab their throat then turn your body to the side and go for the leg," he turned to show her, and then he lifted his foot and motioned as if he was going to kick at her but he didn't straighten his leg out enough. "Shin or knee. Even if its the side of the knee if you can get your foot there then you'll be able to do enough damage. Wearing heels you'll do even better." He smirked at her and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "They're pretty basic, but I've seen too many people who don't think to do those two simple things. They just back themselves up into a corner and that's that." He explained to her, figuring she was probably going to think he was just wasting her time explaining things so simple.

"Try it on me. I'm taller and bigger, so reach for my throat and see if you can get me before I get you." Practice makes perfect, right? He wouldn't hurt her but if she couldn't grab his throat and squeeze in time he might press her into a wall gently. "For safety, tap if I get rough. I'll do the same if you're feistier than you look." He winked at her playfully and then took a few steps back. "On three.. one.. two.." he didn't wait until three and came at her, trying to surprise her and acting like he was going to tackle her.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine held Micah’s gaze as he began to speak. “More now than ever you should know how to get away from someone who might try to hurt you. One in three human women are attacked.” She nodded, knowing the number was high, but not that high. It surprised her somewhat, but it also made her wonder how Micah knew those sorts of facts. He should probably be a defense instructor with that knowledge and with his patient demeanor. The thought distracted her for a moment before he began giving her basic steps to follow. “Alright. First thing you do is make a ‘v’ shape between your thumb and fingers, like this.” He showed her and she mimicked him. “When someone comes towards you, grab for their throat first. Squeeze if you have to. Hell, sink your fingers in as long as you apply pressure to cut off their air passage.” Eponine nodded, focusing on Micah’s eyes as he spoke. It was a trick she had learned a long time ago, but she’d never been forced to use it. “If you can’t grab their throat then turn your body to the side and go for their leg.” She watched as he made to kick but didn’t straighten his leg completely. “Shin or knee. Even if it’s the side of the knee if you can’t get your foot there then you’ll be able to do enough damage. Wearing heels you’ll do even better.” She returned his smirk with an impressed smile of her own. “All the more reason to wear my stilettos,” she teased. He turned back toward her, shifting his weight. “They’re pretty basic, but I’ve seen too many people who didn’t think to do those two simple things. They just back themselves into a corner and that’s that.” She nodded, taking in his instruction sincerely, though she was drunk.

“Try it on me. I’m taller and bigger, so reach for my throat and see if you can get me before I get you. For safety, tap if I get rough. I’ll do the same if you’re feistier than you look.” She laughed at his wink, feeling heat in her face, but it could have been because of the wine. He stepped back and she set one foot back slightly to set herself. It wasn’t dramatic, but like she would if someone actually came charging at her. “On three…one…two…” Before he even said three he was rushing her and she opened her mouth to protest, but he was coming on fast, so she reached her hand up to catch his throat the way he taught her. Her coordination was off and she caught the neck of his shirt instead as his hands grabbed her arms. Her breath caught and she fought to turn her body and kick him, but he was stronger and before she fully processed it, he had her back to a wall, her right hand still gripping the collar of his shirt as her left hand grabbed his right arm. She looked up at him with wide eyes, panting lightly with her adrenaline and realizing she had been holding her breath since she missed grabbing his throat. For a brief moment, she forgot she was tipsy, but her head began to spin a little.

Her eyes fell from his to his lips, unable to help herself. He was holding her against a wall, their bodies almost touching and she felt even more breathless than she had before. She swallowed hard, feeling her stomach twist staring his mouth before bringing her eyes back to his. It felt like things were spinning even if they were standing still. She was chewing the inside of her lip, trying to steady her thoughts that could only think about kissing him. A weak smile came to her lips as she looked up at him. “No fair. You didn’t say three,” she said softly, hardly able to talk with her stomach in her throat like it was. It wasn’t just the wine making her feel the way she did, but it did make the feeling stronger.

[MICAH STOKES]

Eponine couldn't get her hands up in time to stop him from coming at her. He'd went before three because he wanted to try and catch her off guard. She wiggled in his hands like she was trying to figure out how to act but it was too late and Micah already had her sandwiched between his body and the wall. He looked down with her, his face serious but a little off because he was buzzing pretty badly.

He didn't bother to move away as quickly as he should have, keeping her wedged there with his hands still firmly on her arms but he was careful not to hurt her. His strength wasn't what it usually was but then again neither was hers, and the last thing that he'd ever want to do was hurt this woman who was so.. close.. his eyes searched hers before looking down to her small mouth. It was like those lips had a magnetic pull and he started to move closer.. until she spoke. "No fair. You didn't say three," his voice was caught in his throat and he found he was having a trouble breathing easily with her so close. Because he thought about how he was breathing he ended up just holding his breath, not wanting her to have to smell the cognac on his breath.

Micah was going to let Eponine know that an attacker wouldn't count down for her and let her know when he was going to attack. He was going to tell her that she needed to turn basic defense moves into instinct. He was going to tell her to try again. But what Micah did do was scoop the back of her head into his big hand and bring her face up while his came down and met her with his lips. He knew part of it was the alcohol, but the other part was what he wanted. The booze only made him capable of acting on his desires, and he pressed her against the wall, having to bend at the knees so he could reach her mouth better. He kissed her, letting out the feelings he'd felt in the last few weeks that were bottled up out.

But then he realized that maybe this wasn't what Eponine wanted.. maybe the signs he'd read were all wrong and he was overstepping his bounds. Almost as fast as he'd kissed her in the heat of the moment did he break away and turn his back to her. He took a couple of steps away, feeling like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. "I'm.. I don't know what came over me. Sorry," he chanced a look at her again, wanting to see if she was angry.. if she hated him entirely.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine swallowed hard at the way Micah moved closer, her eyes flitting from his kind blue eyes to his lips. For a moment when she spoke, he paused, looking at her, and she waited with shallow breath. When his hand came to her head, pulling her closer as he came closer, she let out a sigh, melting into the wall when he pressed her back against it, and closed her eyes as finally, finally he kissed her. The world stopped spinning. She pressed her lips back against his, but she was too dazed to grab him, keep him close. And he pulled away. She was breathless and dizzy, but her hands released his shirt and arm instinctively as he turned his back to her, stepping away. Her head was spinning again and she watched him with confused eyes. She wanted him to come back, scoop her up, kiss her again. “I’m…I don’t know what came over me. Sorry.” He looked over his shoulder, but she was still leaned against the wall, breathless…but not for long. If he didn’t actually like her, that was just tough shit. He’d kissed her and invited her affection in return in her intoxicated mind.

She pushed herself off the wall and walked around in front of him, reaching up to take his face in her hands. His face was scruffy in her hands, but she liked the feel of it beneath her palms. She pulled him down gently, rising up on her toes to meet him, her heart pounding. It made her dizzy and lightheaded, but she loved the feeling, which only increased as her lips came to his again. She kissed him passionately, met with his passion, and her lips worked against his fervently. How long had she wanted this? For weeks, what felt like an eternity. A soft whimper escaped her as her arms wound around his shoulders, delighting in the way his arms felt around her waist. The twisting in her stomach made it feel like it was on fire and she sighed against his lips to try and calm it. It wasn’t happening, so she just pressed on kissing him, unable to stop herself with the alcohol in her.

The kisses only became more heated and she was certain her blood was boiling. Her knees were weak as their mouths meshed, unable to support her weight as giddiness and alcohol rushed through her. She turned once more, stepping back until she felt the wall, cool and steady at her back. A whimper left her as she used the wall to leverage her body closer, pressing against him desperately. Her tongue twitched forward to glide against his, making whimper with the shock it sent through her. She ran her hand along his scruffy cheek and jaw, needing to touch him to confirm he was real. That hand moved back to his short cropped hair, running through the strands slowly despite the quick, passionate movements of her mouth. She pulled away from him just a little to look at his face and see this was happening. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks now,” she confessed breathlessly, her heavily lidded eyes burning as she looked at him. She gave a dazed smile before kissing him again, her lips scorched by his.

[MICAH STOKES]

He expected her to be upset. Maybe to puff out her chest and to give him a dirty look as if he should be ashamed of himself. But the look didn't come and for a long pause he thought they were just going to have a staring contest. But then she came around in front of him and pulled his face down to hers, drawing them into another kiss. Her lips were so soft pressed to his and when he heard her whimper it sparked a desire deep down in the gargoyle. His hand found its way around to the back of her head and his fingers tangled into her hair as he cradled her head, pulling her as close as he could to her.

When she began to step backwards he had no choice but to follow her and mash her against the wall and keep her there with his body. There was this carnal desire that was surfacing and his breath picked up the tempo. He could care less if he had to breathe, it was her mouth that he wanted and his tongue made its way through her parted lips to taste her mouth. He could taste the wine on her tongue and it didn't bother him, it actually made the kisses sweeter in his opinion.

When she pulled away he flattened a palm against the wall and lifted himself away from her just enough and breathlessly he pressed his forehead against hers. "I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now," He felt like he could pass out from the insomnia they were suffering, the alcohol and the lack of oxygen he was getting from their little make out. But that didn't stop him and when she kissed him again he bent his knees and wrapped his arms around her back so he could pick her up, hoping she would wrap her legs around him. "Me too," he nearly growled against her lips, his voice easily gave away just what she was doing to him.

All tension that he'd felt over the last couple of weeks seemed to dissipate in the passion of their mouths. With her still up in his arms he clumsily started to walk through her condo, trying to find his way towards the bed or the couch. He didn't care which but he didn't want to stand there like some children making out in the corner, and she was also getting a little heavy since he was so tired and didn't have his usual strength. He bumped into the coffee table with his shin and had to grip her tightly to make sure he didn't drop her. "Shit!" he hissed before turning and walking in another direction just to bump into the wall. Maybe he shouldn't have been trying to walk through the place with his eyes closed and kissing Eponine. He started to laugh though and after bumping into a few more things he managed to find his way to the bedroom where he ran into her bedroom furniture before finally falling down onto the mattress, Eponine still under him.

[EPONINE GASCOIGNE]

Eponine gave a sound of surprise as Micah picked her up, her legs coming around his hips instinctively. “Me too.” Those words sent a shock of relief and desire through her—the signs had been right. She whimpered against his lips again, the gruffness of her voice turning her on immensely. Obviously she wasn’t the only one burning with desire. She sighed as he pulled her off the wall and began carrying her off somewhere else. Eponine didn’t care where they ended up, she just needed him, and badly. Kissing was grand and she loved the feel of his lips on hers, but it wasn’t just kissing that she wanted. As Micah stumbled his way through her condo, he must have hit the coffee table. It made a loud thump and his grip on her tightened. “Shit!” She couldn’t help but giggle, elated at the fact that she was in Micah’s arms, kissing him the way she was. There was cognac on his tongue, but it only tasted sweet now, subtle. Micah changed direction and she realized he was headed toward the bedroom; it made her heart beat faster. They bumped into a wall, making her gasp against his lips and then giggle. The entire way to her bed, they were bumping into things and laughing, and she felt dizzy and lightheaded and breathless. It was thrilling.

Finally they made it to her bed, actually in one piece, and she moaned as they landed on the mattress. Her thumbs wrapped around his ears as her fingers wove into his hair and she kissed him harder. There was so much tension between them over the past few weeks, and now it was pouring out into the open. Maybe it took alcohol and exhaustion to loosen them up, but she wasn’t going to hold out anymore. Not when she was enjoying his weight on her so much. Her hips moved up into his, grinding slowly with her longing. She could feel what she did to him and it only made her push up into him more, her tongue thrashing against his. Her back arched into him as she moaned, her hands clenching on his t-shirt. That needed to come off. She knew he was fit, but she wanted to see what was under there for herself. Her nimble hands found the ends of his shirt easily enough and whipped it over his head, forcing him to pull back for a moment. Just the sight of him without a shirt drove her crazy.

She only got to admire for a moment before he was back over her, kissing her roughly and making her gasp for air between kisses. Her hands moved over his abs and chest while her hips rose up into his. The rippling of his muscles only made her hotter, the heat almost unbearable. “God, I want you so bad,” she gasped against his lips, unable to filter whatever came into her mind. Her hands found their way to his jeans, unbuttoning them as she arched into him with a whimper.