Jo didn't even clear her throat. That wasn't even a thing she did.
She'd made it up the stairs and to standing in front of her front door. Their -- the front door. Partially hanging open, with the words of a conversation she wasn't even positive she'd ever wanted to happen, and yet debating having almost everyday. But maybe hadn't expected Kol to take part in. Or wanted him to. Except there was more. More right here, in the word he said while she stood still, skin too tight, with a familiar itch, speaking of more than she knew even.
The White Oak stake, that Thorfinn might destroy, but Jo definitely wouldn't. The family. His parents, and his brother. The parts he hasn't really talked to her about, or anyone. Not aside from general details. Home, and the apocalyptic Lawrence before now. People who'd been with him. But a century was a long time to lose. But. And maybe that would have been fine. The strange shift in her chest about not liking to hear about vampires with families and family shit drama.
But it all goes out the window when Thorfinn hits his next topic and Jo is not having that in the slightest. Not even a little. That's not a thing that's happening here. Here in this house. Here in this world. She would kill them both.
And then Thorfinn says there are three of them. Offering her up on a platter to the vampire, too, should he need her.
Jo's hand finally hits the door hard, and shoves it all the way open, on the men who couldn't have been more than halfway across the living room. Sitting near each other. They get a cursory of look, that's more sharpness than amusement, and droll distance, with just the edge of a warning already brewing. "The next time we decide to have intimate family chats about the truly deplorable state of Kol's life choices, could we at least do it with the door closed?"
no subject
She'd made it up the stairs and to standing in front of her front door. Their -- the front door. Partially hanging open, with the words of a conversation she wasn't even positive she'd ever wanted to happen, and yet debating having almost everyday. But maybe hadn't expected Kol to take part in. Or wanted him to. Except there was more. More right here, in the word he said while she stood still, skin too tight, with a familiar itch, speaking of more than she knew even.
The White Oak stake, that Thorfinn might destroy, but Jo definitely wouldn't. The family. His parents, and his brother. The parts he hasn't really talked to her about, or anyone. Not aside from general details. Home, and the apocalyptic Lawrence before now. People who'd been with him. But a century was a long time to lose. But. And maybe that would have been fine. The strange shift in her chest about not liking to hear about vampires with families and family shit drama.
But it all goes out the window when Thorfinn hits his next topic and Jo is not having that in the slightest.
Not even a little. That's not a thing that's happening here. Here in this house. Here in this world. She would kill them both.
And then Thorfinn says there are three of them. Offering her up on a platter to the vampire, too, should he need her.
Jo's hand finally hits the door hard, and shoves it all the way open, on the men who couldn't have been more than halfway across the living room. Sitting near each other. They get a cursory of look, that's more sharpness than amusement, and droll distance, with just the edge of a warning already brewing. "The next time we decide to have intimate family chats about the truly deplorable state of Kol's life choices, could we at least do it with the door closed?"