Someone trotted down the stairs and their steps came closer to his room. A hot surface heat burned in the back of Iggy's neck as the blood began pumping there. He lied stiffer and more rigid now, with his hands clasped flat over his vulnerable chest. Becca's soft, playfully flirtatious voice sounded through the bedroom door from the hallway. A side that Iggy hadn't yet glimpsed of her. "Good evening, Bert," she greeted the stranger.
Iggy felt his cheeks go cold. He tuned in to listen, after all, he needed to know if there was someone out there who held her interest stronger than he did. Jealousy… it was a first for him, really. Even the sound of her voice drove him crazy. What made it the worst was that he didn't know why he wanted her so badly, or if it was at all a normal reaction to want her as strongly as he did.
"Hey there, Chica," a man's voice responded. Iggy jumped to his feet and pried the bedroom door open a crack. Bert was hunched down with bent knees, fiddling with the music player in the living room. His chin was narrowed down into a small point, while his forehead was large and rounded. The side of his cheek up to his sideburns was unclean and oily. His ashy brown hair was tangled and frizzy in the back of his head, and his boots were dusted with brown dirt. His dark clothing was wrinkled and bunched in all of his joints. He was careless with appearance and hygiene, however his movements were very specific and precise. Even as his fingers flipped a notch or two on the face of the player, it was as if he had practiced the very same movements a thousand times over for perfection's sake.
"Where's your bro, girly?" he asked, looking up at Becca with a small grin and large rounded eyes that weren't surprised or shocked, but naturally buggy. They were dark brown with the slight vibrancy that came with the weak street version of the virus.
Becca's narrow arms crossed over her breast less chest and she rested her shoulder into the wall. Her body loosely slanted down toward her crossed ankles. As if she had absolutely no clothing that could cover more than fifty percent of her body at any one given time, she was wearing a short pink skirt and a sleeveless yellow shirt that wrapped tight around her tiny waist. She spoke slowly, and with an intentional tone of boredom, "well, you know... he's away."
Bert clicked a few buttons and music with guitars and drums played through the speakers. He brought his attention back to her and stood taller. He was grinning, and the tiny tips of his teeth peeked out from behind his thin lips. He gawked down at her chest, regardless if she noticed or not. His arm lengthened straight and his hand flattened against the wall near her shoulder. "You usually go hiding too, why'd you decide to hang around this time?"
Her body tensed so slightly that it was easy to miss, and she compensated by becoming even more loose than before, since she didn't want him to think that she was uncomfortable with him. She tilted her head, and a devilish smile slowly swept over the lower half of her face. That mean smile that only other evil people like. "You know why. I wanted to ask if you brought anything special with you tonight?"
Bert's chin rose and his grin became confident, for now he knew that he had the upper hand in this interaction. "Sure did-" he leaned in closer "-You willing to do your part for it?"
Her shoulder tilted back an inch. "It depends on what you want. The usual?"
His tongue licked his narrow lips and his hanging arm rose. His fingertip glided up along the underside of her chin. "Yeah, that's what I want. The usual."
She met his gaze and nodded once. "Did you happen to bring enough for a third wheel?" His eyebrows crumpled and he pulled his head away sharply. She counteracted by leaning forward and closing the gap that he had left between them. "Sorry, I should've opened with that. I have a friend who is having a hard time-"
His eyebrow raised. "She?"
She chuckled. "He."
His hand dropped, his torso twisted, and he turned the music up so loud that the other voices upstairs were completely muted. "Alright, alright," he sighed. "You know I swing both ways, so I'll take care of you and your friend. Just give me a minute to go unwind. I'll be in your bed."
"Sure thing." She flattened against the wall and he passed by her.
Bert knew that Iggy was watching. He glanced into the dark slit between the door and the frame expectantly as he continued past. His body shifted the air around, and the vanilla scent that emanated off of Becca was so delicious that Iggy's nose and throat burned, encouraging him to go after her right then and there. His thoughts were loud, because she heard them. She turned her head, swinging her short hair against her flat cheek, and caught a glimpse of him in the corner of her black traced eye. Even after he shut the door and hid against the wall, he could still smell her sweetness in the air.
Becca propped his door open half a foot, and the light traced her body into a long shadow that lined the floor from her feet to the opposite wall. Her head peeked in around the door, then her body followed, and she shut herself secretly inside. Trapped in total darkness, she stood completely blinded, whispering, "Robert? Are you alright?" Her face turned left and right, but her wide open eyes were useless in such deep darkness. She spun around and stepped forward, unknowing that she was going the opposite way as where he stood, watching her. She stopped and crossed her arms over her flat belly.
A cold loneliness grew stronger the longer Iggy let her stand there in the darkness without any response. The space in between them seemed so distant and he didn't like it. He stepped away from the wall, softly ruffling his clothing. Her ears perked up, her chin raised and her cheek turned toward him. Less than an arm's length apart, Iggy reached his hand out, and twisted a rough strand of her dark hair around two of his fingers.
She stiffened. She allowed his fingertips to trace her jawline, down past her ear, and then bump over the small spotted scars along the side of her neck. He wanted her in every way. He wanted to feed on her, become her friend, and her lover all at once.
"Robert?"
He leaned closer and whispered into her reddening ear, "what is it that he wants from you?" Her face blushed and she turned to stand square to him. His hand drifted down to the round of her shoulder, and rested there.
"What they all want," she answered. "To drink from me."
"What is he paying you with?"
Her eyebrows squinted and she shrugged her frail shoulders. Her hot chin lowered and pressed against the back of his hand. Iggy exhaled through his nose and pulled his hand down to his side, leaving her completely untouched again. Her eyebrows twitched, and her fingers attempted to catch his before he let her go, but what could she do? In the blackness, her stick-like arms reached out, searching for his. She hopelessly looked with her eyes, and the difficulty was embarrassing for him to watch, so he clasped his much larger hands inside of hers, and held tightly. He jerked her near and wrapped his arms tightly around her, wanting to squeeze her hard against his heart, but unable to. So, he held her in silence, instead. She was warmer, moved more than he, and the smell of vanilla seeping from her hair was arousing. Her palm pressed against his shoulder blade, and she slowly stepped out from his embrace.
"My friend Bert can make it feel like life is worth living sometimes. And his price isn't too much for me to pay. Let me show you. Let's have a good night together. You might not get this chance ever again… especially because… You have nothing to lose."