Getting Settled, {Orson Only, Please.}

[Isla deFeo]

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, Isla shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other as she flipped another pancake. The smell of cooking could be caught throughout the whole of the loft. Eggs, Bacon, Sausage, Pancakes, Biscuits.. She was cooking it all, and just as she normally did on the weekends for she and Bella. 7 AM was one hell of a time in the morning to be awake, but being a business owner and full time mother.. plus housing those in need of constant sanctuary... Isla was always tired. However, one of the guys were leaving the Sanctuary and moving to another state all together.

Another was scheduled to leave the country in another day or so, Isla would be able to spend more time with Bella at last. Looking up from the skillet on the stove, she smiled at the sight of Bella dancing in her seat with a strip of crispy bacon in her little hand and humming tunes to herself while reading the funnies in the local paper. Sliding Bella's blueberry pancakes onto her purple plate, Isla turns down the flame and briefly looks up to the open panes of windows lining the slanted roof and walls. The rain hasn't let up in the last few days, making everything feel much lazier than normal.

Picking up Bella's plate, she saunters to the dinette set and places it down for her with warmed maple syrup and the butter dish. "Here you go, Princess Bella." Giggling with her daughter, Isla runs her fingers through Bella's dark waves and slips back into the kitchen to crack open a few more eggs. Scrambling them was normally the safest way of cooking strangers eggs, at least for Isla. She was still getting to know Orson, and she'd been rather shy around him. Only usually offering a soft hello or goodbye to him when coming and going. After that, she'd usually be so busy she had no time to stop and chat.

Still, she felt guilty for avoiding him. And her mother was no better for always mentioning it to her! She'd say something along the lines of, 'Give that young man some work for a change, why do it all yourself Isla? The only work you've given him so far, isn't enough to satisfy someone who NEEDS to work, child.' Isla, yes.. she felt guilty indeed. She'd been blaming his lack of work on the rain, she hadn't included physical labor like landscaping into his job description! Trying to tell her mother this was like trying to talk to a wall. Knowing Orson was still sleeping, Isla decided not to wake him up just yet.

However, looking up from her post.. Bella wasn't at the table eating her pancakes. And she could hear distant giggling down the hall. Hissing down the hall, "Bella! Leave that poor man alone!" Brushing back a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, Isla is ready to move from the kitchen to go retrieve Bella but sees her daughter traipsing back instead. "Leave Orson alone, he needs his sleep ya know." Still, she can't help but smile at her antics. "Are you finished, Mija?" Getting an enthusiastic nod from Bella, Isla shoos her away to go downstairs and play at Grandmama's house. Shaking her head, a smile still perched on her lips, Isla listens as the door shuts to the Loft entrance. Silly child..

Lifting a hot lid from a plate of cooked bacon and sausage, she hums to her own self as she fixes her own self a small plate of breakfast. Two strips of bacon, an bit of scrambled eggs and a biscuit.. She sits down at the island on a stool and looks out to the cloud covered sky while rain continues to pelt the windows.

[Orson]

Orson wasn’t much of a heavy sleeper, though for some reason he had to drag himself out of bed. The smell of whatever Isla was cooking seemed to be a great motivator. He hadn’t been getting up to early the past week. Which was amazing. It helps when your neighbors aren’t stabbing each other. He didn’t have much to do either. When he wasn’t doing anything he was reading, writing, and conversing with those who sought sanctuary with the deFeos. Hell, he was about to start mucking around in the rain soon. Though, with it raining for so long, his itch to work wasn’t particularly annoying.

A giggle from the hall distracted him with his morning stretches and bear yawns. He looked over his shoulder to see Bella peeking from the hall. They made a few silly faces back and forth until Isla called her back. As Bella skipped away Orson resumed his stretching and nearly tripped onto his face as he crossed the room to look through his clothes. Two duffel bags full of clothes that looked virtually the same. He didn’t have much of a variety, considering when he lived in Canada he barely wore any half of the time. Now down in Aldenville, always in his human form, he felt like he stuck out horribly.

He resolved he’d take a shower a bit later and maybe figure out how to do some laundry. Then he sighed slightly looking at his door. He was debating whether he should go out or not. He also felt horribly awkward around Isla. It seemed whenever he was looking for something to do her mother would send him her way. If she didn’t think him to be a stalker by now, he would be surprised.

“Uh,” Orson said with a slightly sheepish smile. He shuffled into the kitchen feeling like a shy little boy. The pair were still very unfamiliar with each other. “Good morning,” he greeted, his voice rumbling and gritty. It was a wonder he could even remember how to talk anymore. He really had no need to until he went off in search of his brother. His voice still protested, however, when he decided to utter anything in the mornings. ”Sleep well?” he asked after clearing his throat? Sitting down he looked around for Bella but his nose quickly confirmed that she did leave already to play at her grandmother’s.

[Isla deFeo]

Nearly jumping from her skin at the sound of Orson's voice cutting through her minds solitary confinement, she places a palm to her rapidly beating heart. Giving a shy smile right back at him, she laughs her sudden fear attack off. Realizing she hadn't yet changed from her pajamas to anything else was a slight embarrassment. Cheeks flushing violent red, she casually looks down to her baggy white cotton pants and matching tank top. At least she'd had the decency to put a bra on.. not like she would be able to walk around without one on anyway.. She was.. well.. they were larger than she'd like.

Smiling up at him, she turned in her stool and gestured to the breakfast she'd laid out. "I hope you're hungry.." Chewing on her bottom lip a bit, Isla twirled a bit of bed head hair around her fingers. Thinking to herself.. 'Isla.. stop fussing!' She smiled again, she hadn't done a thing with her hair either. She'd only half thrown it up into a hair band, and it was a mess.. really. Coming back to his question, "I.. slept well enough. The storms help a lot." But honestly.. those dark circles under her eyes were just getting worse, and she was losing weight. Now, she wasn't doing this on purpose.. She happened to like being voluptuous!

Breathing deeply, Isla turned back to face the island and peered up at the panes of glass that made up 50 percent of the ceiling in the living, dining and kitchen area. The rain was just not letting up. Giving small talk while Orson got himself fed, she nibbled on a piece of biscuit while he did so. "We've got two rogues leaving soon. One in a few days, he's heading to another sanctuary in a different state. The other is fleeing the country, he's a bit more wanted in the US. Not for anything crazy like murder, but from fleeing a top notch pack. Poor guy's been on the run for three years. Their enforcers have come here time and again to bargain his expulsion from here.."

She paused as Orson sat himself down, "They've threatened to burn the place down to get him out, but they've yet to put action to mere words. However.. Michael has hired help to come escort him out of the country. As soon as Robbie, the one who's leaving in a few days.. As soon as he leaves, you can move down there to his apartment. He's a real clean freak, no worries about moving into a mess." Giving a small smile, Isla picked at some of her breakfast and eyed her silver watch. Only going on 8 am.. She'd decided to let Helena run the shop today, that girl was a real gem in the shop.. A veritable blessing in disguise. With Helena running the shop, she knew her mother would take Bella out on her errands with her.. Thus giving Isla time to get things caught up and prepared for the departure of her two charges, Robbie and Michael.

[Orson]

One of the greatest things about coming out into the world was the food. There were so much flavors and different textures that he was missing out on for so long. If he didn’t watch himself he’d go on an eating spree. He kept a legion of granola bars and various types of jerky to keep him settled throughout the day. From what he gathered it wasn’t normal fro someone to eat “obscene” amounts of food several times a day.

Orson nodded along with Isla’s talking as he helped himself to the breakfast she had prepared. He looked up, slightly concerned when she mentioned that there was the threat of fire being put upon them. He could only imagine that there were several threats and or attempts on the sanctuary. She didn’t seem to miss a beat as she continued chatting on about what was going on within the next few days.

“Do you ever stop working?” he asked peeking up from his plate and catching her look at her watch. Isla seemed so distracted and it was times like these that Orson could look upon her without becoming bashful or shy. It didn’t take someone with heightened senses to see that the philanthropist would soon burn herself out. “If you need help,” he started, unsure of how to approach her. He didn’t want to sounds offensive in any way. “I’ll be more than happy to give it to you,” he finished after his pensive pause.

Orson’s skills may be limited to cutting down trees, and surviving off of the land, but he was willing to learn.

“I’d like to show some sort of appreciation,” he shrugged as he began losing his confidence. It was a wonder how much Orson changed in the presence of Isla. “I’ll sure miss this when I move,” he added with the smallest of smiles. Show appreciation for breakfast. Yeesh. He was practically on pins and needles while living with Isla and her daughter, though he did enjoy it.

[Isla deFeo]

Unaware that Orson is watching her with such confidence, Isla continues to pick at her plate and go over the events of the following days to come. She has completely stopped thinking of the dangerous rogue on the loose, and if she were to possibly know what was to unfold over the course of the week.. She'd take her family and lock down the Sanctuary.. She wouldn't know the breach would occur in her own territory.. She wouldn't know the terror until the events would happen. At the moment, in her spacious kitchen with the worlds most handsome man ever in front of her.. she was off in La La Land with thoughts of the upcoming work to do.

The words that tumbled from Orson's mouth brought tired hazel eyes up to meet his for a moment. "Stop working? Me?" She smiled some, leaning back in her stool as she regarded his question. Glancing back down at her knees, she gently twirled in her seat and shrugged lightly. "I've been doing this for almost five years now..." Offering Orson a better smile, one that touched her eyes brightly. "It's my life.. before Bella was born, my mother and I lived in Cuba our entire lives.." Isla pauses, unsure of how to proceed without making it seem she wanted pity from her story. Ignoring the feeling, she continues unabashedly.

"My mother and father ran a home based orphanage ever since I was very little, always bringing in kids from the streets that were left homeless and unwanted.. abused children, children with nothing left but death." She smiles to ease the pain of the story, "It was an illegal business, but one with such heart and devotion. My father was arrested for it, and is still serving time back in Cuba. It is for my Father's unrequited love for the homeless, for the ones most needing a safe place to lay their weary heads.. For those needing a warm welcome.." Isla glances up at Orson, shrugging again..

"After my father was imprisoned, I got pregnant with Bella by a terribly wonderful man by the name of Constantine. Brilliant mind, but used in the worst kind of way.. Drugs, Street gangs.. Oh, don't get me wrong.. he loved me greatly. Just.. a promise too late to leave that life behind and travel with us to the US.. We were gunned down a few months before our departure." Wrinkling her nose at the memory, she shakes it off and murmurs further. "Needless to say, Constantine never traveled with us. And I thank God every day for blessing me with my life, and Bella's.. for the will to open this business for the memory of my Father." Isla smiles brightly, Not in the least bit upset about the past.

"I think I'm afraid to hand the rains over to anyone else, really!" She laughs now, "The whole saying.. 'if you want something done right.. do it yourself..' Well.. I won't deny that I need a large break. And maybe I'll take a break after Robbie and Michael leave." She looks up to Orson, nodding a bit. "Your offer is very much appreciated.. maybe I'll stop being so terribly shy and put you to work!" Finished with her plate, she hops down from the stool and begins to clean up. "First thing is first.. I have some things I need to shop for. You are more than welcome to come with me and help carry things back. These puny arms.. so weak!" Joking some, she begins to slide out from that shy shell into something rather comfortable with Orson.

"Besides.. A wild bear like you shouldn't stay cooped up in the house all the time. Rain or shine.. Oh.. if you're worried about not eating home cooked meals if you move downstairs.. not to worry. You'll still get well fed." Winking, those tired eyes now sparkled with a new hint of life and intrigue. Burn out? Maybe soon.. or maybe not at all.. This was her life, and everyone would do well to remember that with passion comes... well.. whatever passion brings, it certainly brings rewards and consequences. "Maybe we can get you some new clothes and whatnot..."

[Orson]

Orson was quite shocked that Isla told him her life story so comfortably. It wasn’t exactly the way he had pictured it either. He had always imagined that she’d be crying and he would be holding her in his arms as they whispered back and forth their darkest secrets. Thankfully, those illusions were swiped from his mind. He had read one too many dime store novels in his day. This was practical. Information came first, and any form of intimacy… well Orson would have to work for that. He at least wanted to be her friend, someone she could trust. Something about Isla deFeo made Orson want to stick around.

Good people are hard to find, and from her story it’s obviously in her genes. He couldn’t really pay attention to finishing his breakfast as she practically bared her soul in the rainy kitchen. Once she brought her attention back to him fully he fought to find somewhere else to look. His plate. It was interesting enough. He smiled lightly at her joke about her puny arms and dared to look up at her for a moment.

Never had he been so shy around women, and actually had to live in seclusion due to his love for them. Well, that wasn’t entirely the reason, but it was a small deciding factor. Now Orson was out and about. These women were nothing in comparison to the women he grew up around. They had fire, and they reeked of curiosity. Not so many of them were just content with where their lives were. Here was Isla, trying to heal the world, or at least the city.

“I guess I’ll stick around forever then,” he said with a small laugh when she guaranteed him home cooked meals. When she mentioned clothes he shook his head a bit. “I’m not much of a clothes man,” he confessed with a slight shrug. It was true, though he probably should have said that. He was going to be wearing quite a bit of clothes, and it wouldn’t do well for them all to look the same. “I think I may just be a bit out of style,” he added with an embarrassed chuckle.

“And really,” Orson said putting up his hands,” I don’t mind the work at all. They say idle hands are the devil’s workshop. I’m sure your mother keeps sending me off from the shop because she’s scared I’ll crush the life out of any plant I touch.” Which wasn’t true. Orson was pretty much a big ol’ laid back teddy bear… most of the time.

[Isla deFeo]

Isla couldn't help but smile at Orson, he was so shy. Almost painfully shy.. but hey, she had no room to talk. Shyness just ran so deep through her hot Cuban veins. Giving him a playful wink, she murmured over the din of the dishwasher. "Well I guess you'll have to just stay forever then.. Bella seems to like you pretty much. My mother.. well.. she's my mother. Many words come to mind when it comes to her." Isla laughs softly, moving deftly around the kitchen with her cleaning supplies. Soon there is nothing left to clean except for Orson's plate and the leftover food.

She gives him plenty of time to eat while she moves into the open living space and tidies up Bella's toys and books. That child loves to read. "If Bella collects anymore books, we'll have a library soon enough.." Smiling over at Orson, she shakes her head as he explains he isn't much of a clothes man.. Should she tease him on that? Nibbling her bottom lip, she might as well!

"So you prefer running around buck naked!?" She laughs heartily, leaning one small palm on the back of the couch. Still laughing, she barks out "I can just imagine it!" Chest heaving, she has tears running from her eyes as she presses her empty palm to her blazing cheek. "I'll wake up in the middle of the night, and run into a naked bear of a man!"

Leaning now, on the arm of the couch. She tries to catch her breath and looks over at Orson's bewildered facial expression. This just sets her off again to laughing, she holds her belly. The laughter makes her look younger, taking away the edge of tension that usually surrounds the Sanctuary queen. Shoulders shaking, she glances up just in time to see Orson getting up from his stool with a certain look in his eyes. It's all playful of course.. but he looks so serious. Isla sobers a moment, smirking at him. She dares tease him a bit more. "Why don't we just throw all the rest of your clothes out?"

[Orson]

“I do actually,” Orson confirmed with an entertained smile. When you’re out living by yourself, and usually rambling through the brush in your bear suit, clothes don’t become much of a priority. His smile seemed permanently emblazoned on his face the more Isla’s laughter grew. Though his smile stuck, his face flushed red. It was nothing uncommon to him in his solitary days, obviously it wasn’t around here.

My goodness, he thought as she continued to laugh. Was it really that funny? Her laughs just kept growing, like a snowball rolling downhill. She looked younger. She looked refreshed. Most of all, she looked happy. Orson could definitely tell the different between her weary smiles and one fueled by genuine, even if momentary, happiness. It was probably for the better that Bella had gone down to her grandmother’s. The joke would hardly be as funny.

As Orson stood and moved toward her he could see the tears streaming from her eyes. She was laughing so hard that it looked as if she would pass out. She was holding onto the couch for support. Now tat the distance between them was closing, Orson wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do when he reached her. Never had he heard someone laugh so heartily, without being drunk.

“I might have to hit the gym a few times before we do that,” Orson attempted a bit of humor. He really wouldn’t care at all, save for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go into public without getting arrested. Quickly grabbing her shoulders he stooped to see her eyes. Was she delirious?

“Are you alright?” he asked.

[Isla deFeo]

Delirious? No.. hardly. Or maybe she was.. all the work would drive someone insane. Not she though.. like she'd said before, it was her life, her passion.. her reason FOR living. Shaking her head at Orson, she smiles through the mirthful tears and looks up at his concerned face. "I'm okay, honest.. I guess you'll learn that I laugh more at my own jokes than at a joke made by someone else." Still.. seeing his face so close to hers.. butterflies erupt within her chest and stomach, hazel eyes beginning to soften from laughter to something more.. down to earth.

His attempt at humor was duly noted, and she gave a softer smile in return to it. "It wouldn't be a good idea to run around naked in front of me.." Heart thumping in her chest, she broke eye contact and looked down at her knees. Were they knocking? Like a school girl with her first crush, her heart twinged with him standing so close. The heat that rolled off of him infiltrated the steel doors of her paranoid mind. However.. how could she run such a business where she couldn't let someone in her heart? Ever since Constantine had been gunned down next to her nearly 5 years ago.. she hadn't thought of love since.

Did she love Orson? Hardly.. but she was beginning to care for him an awful lot. Was it safe? She'd never know until she stuck out her heart and waited for something to happen. Still smiling a bit, yet looking down at her knees.. Isla sobered up. "Seriously.. although I've been exposed to lycanthropes that run around naked as the day they were born.. they don't have a problem with running around without a care in the world about being naked.. It's taking me some getting used to.. I always want to offer them fig leaves." Smirking now, she takes a chance to see what kind of look Orson has on his face. Concern? Humor.. Does he think she's crazy after all? Who knows..

[Orson]

“Well that’ll hardly do anything now would it?” Orson’s look quickly went from concerned to entertained at Isla’s mention of modesty via foliage. Fig leaves had always made him chuckle. The idea of trying to bring modesty to something so free and natural was quite laughable. Hell even the size of a fig leaf was laughable, hence his second attempt at humor.

His smile faded and a deep rumble ran through the silence as he cleared his throat. He hadn’t been so close to Isla before, or touched any woman in decades. Which wasn’t much of a problem, out of sight, out of mind. But now Isla was in his sight, and his hands on her arms, though there was no need for a health assessment anymore.

Dropping his hands then putting them in his pockets, he fought to find something for them to do. Clearing his throat yet again he stepped backward, with a half smile upon his face. He wanted nothing more than to just stand there and draw her up to him and drink in the youth she had just exuded. Though most of his urges were driven by simple physical attraction, and chemical reaction, he could feel a glimmer of intimacy behind it. He cared for the deFeos, and loved what they stood for. The world needed quite a few more doves in it, and somehow they flew their way into the darkness that was Adenville to nest.

“What time were you planning on leaving?” Orson asked, crossing his arms to keep his hands still and from finding their way back to Isla. Idle hands, idle hands. he kept repeating to himself. How would he be able to focus now? He needed to do something, build something, anything or this moment would stay forever at the forefront of his mind.

[Isla deFeo]

Rosy cheeks rise with yet another smile as he goes on about how the fig leaf will do hardly anything. She chalks this up to be that he means.. it would hardly cover what he needs to cover. The places in which he touched her leaves a scorching want beneath the layer of skin on her arms. She can still feel every nuance in the pressure he'd exerted. It wasn't much, but.. it was enough. Enough to ignite a terrible yearning deep within her mind, body and soul.

"You'd probably need the whole branch to cove..."

Breaking off the sentence, she blushes furiously and chuckles again. What the hell had gotten into her?! Why in the hell was she flirting this openly? Especially with the hired help.. That was living with she and Bella... who looked like dessert ready to be eaten. Ok, enough Isla!

She couldn't look at him.. and yet, she found her eyes drawing up the length of his body to meet those soulful eyes of his. A breath of silence between them, she knew he was fidgeting. Did he know she was, too? Heart beating faster than it ought to, Isla also cleared her throat and fought to find her voice. Was it squeaking? Bottom lip trembling just a bit, she stood up in front of him and craned her beautiful neck to look up at his face. She'd never been around such a tall man before.. it made her feel even smaller than her 5'2'' frame was used to feeling. Sighing softly, Isla couldn't help but brush her dainty fingers over his right forearm. To comfort? He'd gotten to touch her.. if only to steady her and ask about her mental welfare.

The texture of the hair on his arm, the sinew and muscle bunching there and the general warmth. Isla smiled up at him, doe hazel eyes harboring a secret she couldn't yet relay to him. It did, however, offer up a shred of that secret. It spoke silent volumes of the caring she felt for him, gratitude for his being there.. for being such a wonderful part of her community. He looked like he wanted to kiss her a minute ago.. it was probably a good thing he hadn't.. She'd again know what it was like to have a man look at her in that way. Or maybe.. she wanted to kiss him?

Regardless.. she'd better pull away now. And yet.. she couldn't bring her hand to drop from his thick forearm. Hazel eyes search his, mind wondering what he is thinking.. She finally slides around him, heart catching in her throat as lungs seem to seize up. She swallows it down, eyes darting down to her open palm where it burns from the touch she'd given him. Turning slightly back towards him, Isla gives another shy smile.

"Give me about half an hour and we'll go.. I... need a shower."

A COLD shower at that, Isla Amaranthe deFeo! Why does she feel like floating? Why does she feel like crying out to the world that she was feeling a shred of happiness? Shaking it off, she hums to herself once again and pulls all of that black hair from its holder to tumble lazily about her hips.

[Orson]

Orson let out a barkish laugh and halted it just as abruptly as Isla cut off her sentence. She probably couldn’t tell because of the height difference, but he was indeed blushing. There was silence yet again as they both wracked their minds on how to take the moment off of pause. Orson fought the urge to clear his throat again. Pretty soon she might think he wasn’t insinuating something. Was he? No, Orson was more tactful. Atleast he used to be…

As her hand brushed over his arm, something stirred within him. He felt like literally ripping off his clothes because the heat and tension was stifling. He could feel his primal side emerging as if coming out of a deep hibernation. Orson hadn’t transformed once since being here and that only added to his frustration. The bear was none too excited about being in the shit hole dubbed Aldenville, and only now did Orson realize that it was adding to his stress. His muscles were wound so tight that he felt they would snap like guitar strings.

Yes, Orson was out of his element, and out of practice. Years ago he had courted many women, and not a damned thing bothered him. Rich, poor, married, single, none of it mattered. He was young, wiled, and buck strong. He practically ruled the little towns he occupied. He was Orson Bancho, and years of solitude did nothing but build a shell around him as the world changed. Sure the women had changed, but he had taught himself at a very young age that they all virtually wanted the same thing. It may vary from woman to woman but the key was finding out whatever it was, and making it your world.

Turning to watch her walk away, he could feel himself lunge at her. Even though his legs were planted firmly in his spot and he did not move an inch, his instincts kept bullying him.

“Mmhmm,” was all that he could say, his usually passive eyes full of fire. He watched her hair tumble down, framing her and hugging her hips. He had to blink to keep focused. He really should say something. Grunting was hardly gentleman-like. There was no finding anything to say now, as his mind was totally blank.

”Will… Bella be coming with us?” Well that was hardly something he should be saying to keep himself out of trouble.

[Isla deFeo]

Feeling her lips tug into a smile once more, she had to control herself.. Having no idea that Orson wanted to lunge at her, he had no idea she wanted to do the same. Like him, she was wound so tight with sexual energy.. Honestly, if the day ever came.. she felt sorry for the male to enter her bed after such a long dry spell. No pun intended. Chewing her bottom lip, Isla turns at the bottom of the stairs to the loft.

"Today is Bella's day with Grandma, every Saturday and Sunday." There.. that should clear it up for him.

"You look like you're ready to just, fall over.. You okay, Orson?"

His name rolled out of her exotic mouth like a delicious fruit being tasted for the first time. She made it into something more than a name... she just wanted to strip out of her pajamas right there, she wanted him to see all she had to offer.

Damn.. now she ought to slap herself for such a mental image! Shaking her head, that mane of hair twirled about her full hips. A playful smile is offered, and she finally turns around to head up the stairs.

"When is the last time you had a romp in the woods? Maybe you need Mother Nature.. I know I do."

Isla took every opportunity she could to run around in the woods. She'd been caught by the Professor not too long ago, but it was weeks ago.

About time to go and relax with nature again.. After all.. what was stopping her? Her mother had Bella for the next couple of days.. it was just.. She and Orson.. if he decided to stick around her that is.. Flaming cheeks stay on the uprise as she makes her way into the deeper part of her bedroom. The overlook from the open loft has sheer curtains lining the railing that overlooks the living quarters. A sense of privacy.. but living with an animal like Orson.. one who could smell and hear far better than she.. And see, for that matter...

Was Isla in trouble? Not with Orson.. but with herself. Better calm herself down, for sure. Every bit of clothing finally shed, she saunters into the master bathroom and starts a very hot shower. It doesn't take long before she's out again, feeling ten times better and dressed in a simple pair of wide leg flare khakis, a white fitted polo shirt and her hair french-braided down both sides of her head. She's never been much of a classy broad, always preferring a hippie lifestyle, than all that glitz and glamor. Adding a bit of makeup, not too much, she spritzes on her favorite perfume and on go the white flip flops.

The rain seems to have let up, at least... a sliver of sunlight peeks through bulbous clouds to light up the loft. Descending back down into the danger zone that is her living room, Isla peeks down the hallway towards where Orson's room is located.

"You ready, Orson?"

Waiting for him to come on out, Isla picks up her car keys and wallet. Cell phone is already in her pocket, just in case Bella gets into one of her 'I want Mommy' moods. Smiling prettily up at Orson as he comes back out, her heart skips at least ten beats and she falters in her words.

"You.. smell good.. Okay, let's go..." Turning about, cheeks flaming once again.. she heads out the door, keys jangling on the way.

[Orson]

Orson had been ready, well before Isla, and had been sitting on the end of his bed, trying to occupy his mind. He tried to push the moment they had earlier out of his mind by having a short conversation with himself.

”Nothing’s changed. I’m still Orson Bancho,” he whispered, fearing that he’ll die from embarrassment if Isla were to overhear. ”She’s just a woman.” he lied. Never before had Orson been afraid to speak with, or even flirt, with a woman. But he had gotten so comfortable with being by himself that he was horribly out of practice.

He slid his dark leather jacket over his olive green t-shirt as he came to a stop where Isla waited. Faintly hearing her heart, he nearly blushed at the irregularity.

“You couldn’t even imagine how good you smell,” Orson rebutted quietly as he followed her through the door. He wasn’t of course talking about her scent, as pleasant as it was. He noticed her pheromones much more. Even the faintest of attraction was amplified in Orson’s bearish olfactory.

“So where exactly are we headed?” He asked lightly closing the door behind him. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her as she walked in front of him. He could feel himself itching beneath his skin. The more he resisted the more pent up he became. If he didn’t change soon he’d wind up saying something incredibly vulgar to Isla sooner or later. When lycanthropes resist changing, they become agitated, and their frustrations were amplified. His current frustration…. just so happened to be his temporary roommate.

“I don’t want you leading me into some dark alley,” Orson joked.

[Isla deFeo]

[ooc: I love this color, steelblue. kthx]

Chewing on her bottom lip, Isla turned a bit to the side so she could look up at him and his remark on how good she smelled. She turned back, smirking to herself.. wondering how she'd cover up just how wet her panties were. Damn.. Isla, girl.. get a HOLD of yourself, oi vey.

"Need to go grocery shopping, and I need to look for a new patio set for the court yard between the two green houses.. Need to get some rock, maybe some good limestone."

Shrugging lightly, Isla makes it nearly to the steps leading down when Orson makes his punch line. Oh, and it sends a punch right to her stomach. The good kind.. if.. there IS a good kind of punch. Shaking her head, she laughs a bit.. but in all seriousness, turns to him and retorts.

"Oh darn.. I guess I'll just have to take you in this hallway then." Not much of a joke, but she thinks it's funny. Stalking back towards him, she waits to see if he'll back up from her onslaught of female hormones. Surely he knows.. just how revved up she is.

"Besides, Mr. Bancho.. I'm not so sure you wouldn't want to be led down that darkness with me.." Her chest feels heavy, excitement riding her hot veins. Who knows if they'll make it to the supermarket. She'd better.. get a grip on herself.. She'd never been the type to go after a man like this. What in God's good name was making her so assertive like this?

Maybe she was going off of his high strung tension, feeling the shock of his frustration subconsciously.. She didn't know.. All she did know, was that she wanted to feel that big body of his, covering hers completely.. or, vice versa.

Throwing all caution to the wind, she reaches out and touches his tight stomach; lightly pressing him flat to the wall. Hazel eyes, hot with something she hasn't felt in nearly 5 years, they search up into his to find what she needs to see.. There! A flicker, if anything.. assuring her he wants this too. And then.. she's pulling, gently, of course.. pulling him behind the neck, while on tip toe.

Her lips are a breath away from his.. Does she do it? Does he fill in the smallest gap between their hot lips? Or does she play it off as a joke.. like her brain is screaming to do. Quick now.. time to make a decision..