Wanting You, Needing You

Summary: An 'average' night for one girl, can lead to the most bizzare encounter, especially when she needs comfort.(Oneshot)(Cassandra x Tymmie)

Disclaimer: I do not own Daughters of the Moon.

AN: My first try at a Cassandra x Tymmie oneshot. Be gentle... (::Random Friend::) That's what she said! (::Me::)... Right... Wellllllll, on with the story! Takes place somewhere before book 8, I guess. Ugh! I want Microsoft Word so badly... I want that damned product key or activation code or whatever the hell you call it! (::Evil Smile::) Hack mode... Hehe... No one can stop me! O.o I'm kidding! Or am I?

Warning: Mild cussing and some sexuality... Steamy! Lol. And when I say 'some', I mean 'A LOT.

-

I sat on a stool, legs crossed, and my silky hair pulled into a ruffled bun. Stares; they were almost getting pathetically ridiculous - if I caught you staring at me 6 times now, what makes you think I'll come over? Maybe it was because of the glass of alcohol that lay perched near my hand; I hadn't even bothered to touch it. The men were anticipating it - waiting for my intoxicated state to arrive. Men...

With a sigh, I took a sip.

A bitter, stinging stench filled my nostrils while this numbing feeling spread through my stomach. Fantastic. Another night full of drinks, and guys 'hitting' on me. This was the oh-so-wonderful life of Cassandra, the queen of all losers.

I was in another random bar, of course. On stage, red curtains swirled around a man performing, his guitar in his hands as he played an acoustic beat that I very much despised. Dust gathered around the small room, and tables with lit candles were scattered around. It was dark, except for the one bright light shinning on the performer.

But I could very well feel and see the gazes of those three men, eyes hungry. Honestly. I was more interested in watching the movement of the candle's flame. Why would I take any liking to them?

Oh, God. I reall hope I don't get stabbed... or raped.

What a horrible end for me, Cassandra! But that was what was so ironic of it. My end had already happened. Now, I was forced to walk alone with no hope, no future. Excpet for withering skin and dead eyes as I hit old age.

I felt the approach. One of them was 'going in for the kill'. I was the prey and he was the predator, yearning for the one thing he desired. And unfortunatly, that was me. But then again, I was fond of being 'the prey'. Pity.

" Excuse me, miss? Do you mind if I-"

" Yes", I interrupted, voice leaking with acid and a warning: Do NOT fucking mess with me. Simple enough? Well, apparenlty -to this fellow loser- that was a take as," Sure, keep talking."

He cleared his throat." No need to be cruel. I was just-"

" Being what you are", I cut in once more, my face twisting into a nasty smile. I didn't even bother to look at him.

"... And that is?" he asked, curious and angry all in one.

I giggled with ancient malice."... A man."

A few long seconds ticked by, before I felt his prescence vanish. He was mostly sulking, wondering why he wasn't able to get the girl he saw at the bar like most other nights. He didn't realize that I wasn't just a 'girl'. I was far from average. Taking another taste, I leaned back slightly, my eyes set on the plain walls. Someone approached me once more, and I growled.

" Don't you fucking understand?" I demanded, whirling around only to hear my words trail off and become nothing more than a shocked silence. Tymmie smirked, enlightened by my assault.

" That you're a bitch? Yeah, I do", he teased, crossing his arms and sitting on the stool next to me.

I didn't look him; no eye contact. I bit down on my lips, controlling my irritation. Bastard...

" Why are you here?"I sneered. I was a stand-offish person, and he should know that. But this knowledge is what fueled him, I could tell. Last I heard, he was a part of some cult that followed Lambert. Dumb-ass.

He shook his head at me." Cassandra... Why else whould I come here? To get a drink. It's farely obvious, if you look at the fact that I'm in a bar. And I know how much you want attention, but sorry, that's not why I came here. But you are here, so... might as well make small talk."

" What's there to talk about?" I whispered harshly.

He ignored my bitterness." When I meant talk, I meant 'catch up' on each other's 'lives'. Now, Cassandra", he seethed." How has your life been goin'? Anything new?" Stupid question.

" Well", I began with fake enthusiasm, my voice taking on a higher note." Every night I sit in bars, drinking. I wake up with a hang-over but oddly enough, I like it. Ya know why, Tymmie?", I spat, not bothering for his reply." Becauase the physical pain distracts my emotional pain. But other than that... well, I'm just 'peachy'"

Tymmie cocked an eyebrow, and smirked with amusement; this made me furious as my face flushed.

" My life is just about the same", Tymmie started." Pain, rejection, hurt, hoplessness. All that jazz."

I scoffed, and took another long sip, the nasty taste satisfying me in more than one way. Tymmie leaned in closer, his breath smelling of tobbaco as he spoke.

" Why are you in so much pain, Cassandra?", he challenged. I rolled my eyes, and finally turned to stare at him.

" Because I've been fucking abandonded by the- What. The. Hell... are you laughing about?" I had halted my 'rant' when he began to laugh icily. His dark, cold eyes locked with mine, and he shook his head at me again.

" You've been abandoned, huh? Well I'm here, talking to you. What do you call that?"

I glared danergously at him." Annoying", I answered simply.

He cocked his head, smug." So what you're saying is that this isn't about being abandoned. You're just whining? You want someone to give you pity for your 'horrible' life? Sorry, princess, but not everyone is going to give you pity when you want it. Too bad."

I began to protest but he continued, voice sharp.

" Or is what I'm doing right now making you uncomfortable? I'm giving you the attention you want, but since no one has done that, you're getting suspicious of me? Is that it? Well guess what? I've been left behind too, so we share the same desires and pain. But unlike you, I'm not untrustworthy of everyone who God damn comes around. Stop picturing Stanton in your pathetic little mind!"

I reeled back, stunned by his name, and before I could register what my hand was doing, I had slapped him across the face, the noise loud. Only a few people had noticed, and they watched us curiously. I didn't care.

Without another word, I stood and stalked off; away from him. Because that was the only thing I was good at.

Running away...

Too bad for me - when I had made it around the corner, the street empty, he had followed me, probably furious from the slap that I had given him. He deserved it. No one speaks his name when I'm around. That's crossing the line. But the tears came streaming down my face still. I was vulnerable now, and I wondered if that's what he wanted...

My steps grew quicker as I continued down the sidewalk.

" Cassandra", he snarled, grasping my hand harshly and spinning me around. My hand rose as I was about ready to give him something worse - a firm punch to the jaw. He stopped it, mid air, and pressed my hands to my sides as he shoved me against a wall, his glare vicious. My eyes were narrowed, matching his anger as they blazed with fiery loathing.

I didn't struggle, but merely smirked." I hope you enjoyed that, bastard."

" Not so much", he sneered, a white mist coming from his mouth due to the chilling cold. But he completely caught me off guard with his next words."... But I will enjoy this."

Before I knew what was happening, his lips -cold and pale- were on my, pushing me back as he pressed his body against mine, need surging through both of us. He took both my wrists in one of his hands, and locked them together and placed them above my head while his other hand was placed firmly on my hip. I was in so much shock, especially when his tongue trailed across mine, eager.

And I reacted - reacted how I should. By kissing back roughly.

Because this was something we had both yearned for; maybe not each other, but having someone actually wanting you. To have someone even touch you so openly was beautiful. I felt as if I was important enough for someone; that my life was so meaningless.

This violent, needy kiss lasted a bit longer, before he pulled back, breathless, his eyes never leaving mine. I gaped at him, too shocked to say anything as I shrunk back against the wall, my face flushed from the cold. I shivered and I could feel my tears turning to ice.

And then, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed me closed, whispering into my ear,

" Thanks for wanting me..."

My eyes were solemn, but glad.

"... No... Thanks for wanting me."