On their way, he told her about what other things made Greysky famous, apart from the top record in back alley muggings for 15 years running. He did most of this talking, while she assumed the role of the attentive listener who regularly came with interested follow-up questions. The reason for this was thricefold:
1) she really could use some info on the city, seeing as she lived there now,
2) she was busy checking his butt out, but mostly
3) she was hesitant to share any personal information with a guy she had met not 30 minutes ago, no matter how cute. If she wanted to make it in the big city, she would have to leave the farmer girl behind. She had a blank sheet now, and she was going to write a drastically different story here than back home. She giggled to herself when she thought about what the people back there would have said if they saw her do what she was intending to do now. Because yeah, everyone WOULD have known by tomorrow. Every. Single. One.
"…which has a very impressive decour, I think. Oh look, here's my place." He pointed up at a building that seemed to be an apartment complex. It looked old, but relatively well kept. "Market Square is just down the road," he pointed that way instead, "for another couple of blocks, then right as you come to Sausage Lane and down that street for a few more blocks. Yeah, it's a bit to go." He turned to her. "Hey, you wouldn't want-" he began, but she interrupted him.
"You don't think it would be okay if I came in a for a bit?" She nodded at his apartment. "It sounds like a long way to go, and my feet are kind of tired." She noticed his surprised look, then the broad grin that spread over his lips as he opened the door, made a flourishing, inviting gesture and rapidly followed her inside, the sack bobbing on his back.
"Here we are," he called out as she passed a scruffily looking door. Putting the sack down, he fished up the keys from his pocket and unlocked. She expected a mess, but what met her was actually passable as tidy if you didn't have to high standards. "You'll have to forgive the state of the place, I so seldom get visitors," her excused himself, his back to her as he heaved the sack inside, planted it in a corner and locked the door behind them, placing the keys on a hook by the door. She stifled a giggle at the comment; yeah, a smooth talker like him was sure to be a lonely fellow. It struck her that he probably had a girlfriend or something of similar function already, and the thought wasn't pleasant. She shrugged it away, though. This couldn't be about love.
She busied herself with looking around the apartment. It seemed to have a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom, and probably a bathroom somewhere, she concluded. He passed her as he walked into the kitchen, and she followed him, her eyes planted firmly on his butt.
"Want something to drink?" he asked, opening the fridge. "I have beer, some cider, coffee if you want…"
"Cider would be nice, thanks," she flashed him an appreciative smile as she recieved a glass of the golden liquid. He took a beer bottle for himself and leaned against the kitchen sink. She sat down on a chair by the table, sipping. "Oh, how divine to sit down," she sighed, even if she wasn't particularly tired. Yet.
"It can be a long way if you aren't familiar with the streets," he commented. But my door is always open for the fair miss…" He paused. "In fact, I don't think you ever told me your name?" He lifted an eyebrow inquiringly.
"O-Oh, sorry… I'm-" She thought desperately. She didn't really want to tell him her name. She looked around, saw a table, a fridge, the… cider. She smirked, lifting her gaze to meet his and winking alluringly. "You can call me… Apple." She took another sip.
"Apple? That's an unusual name." He put down his bottle on the sink he was leaning against and took a few steps towards her. "I think it fits you, though." Another step. Apple swalloed her mouthful, her eyes still locked with his. She felt her heart beat faster and faster for each pace he took, her body becoming hotter and her vision rather selective.
"Because apples are beautiful… a very pretty fruit. Red, glistening… almost irresistable…" He took a last step towards her, kneeling down so that their eyes became level, and once again running his hand thought her hair. He slid it down over her cheek as before, but this time, he didn't pull away. He continued down, his fingers caressing her throat in a slow, deliberate motion that made Apple sure he was taking pleasure in feeling her increased pulse. By now, she was panting softly, her lips slightly parted and her eyes partly closed. She lifted her hands, wordlessly pressing them against his chest, feeling the toned, fit musculature beneath the teasingly unbuttoned shirt.
"But your body belies your name, Apple…" he muttered breathily as she smoothed his hands down over her shoulders and out onto her chest. Tracing the rounding of her twins through the fabric of her top, he slid his hands under them, lifting them playfuly and feeling their weight. "These are no apples, I'd call them melons at the least…" She shot her a glance that practially burned. "Are they ripe?"
"For the plucking…" Apple whispered, and at that, none of them wasted more time. Soon his shirt lay in a rumpled heap on the table, while her top was tossed onto a potted plant on the window sill. He had pulled her up to standing, their lips interlocked in a pssionate kiss, their tongues touching and writhing inside each other's mouths. Chests rubbing intimately together, Apple's bra pressed tightly against his sculpted torso while their hands hungrily examined the unfamiliar bodies. The room filled with sighs and wet kissing noises.
"In one religion… consumption of apples was the casue… for the fall of man… from the grace of God," he managed to moan between her needful assaults. Not a second after he had uttered that, he yelped in surprise as she deftly put one leg in the bend of his knee, clung tightly to his strong body and lay him flat down on his back, right on the kitchen floor. "Wha-" he began, but lost his air when Apple promptly sat down on his belly.
"Man has officially fallen," she muttered huskily, her eyes locking intently with the male specimen beneath her. "Now…" she purred, baring her teeth and letting her tongue swipe over them as she leaned forward, bringing her head to hover only a centimeter over his face, so that she could feel the warmth of his respiratory air. "…eat me."
- * *
Hours later, the two lay among a mess of of rumpled sheets, their legs entangled and their nude bodies wet with perspiration. Apple had her cheek pressed against his chest, his every heartbeat resonating like a smithy hammer in her head. She was content. Completely and utterly fulfilled as she lay there and felt her heart synchronize with his. And still, she knew this couldn't last. This couldn't be love, this was… something else. A farmer girl's rebellion when faced with the big city? The need for company after having just left a household of seven to live alone? Maybe it was just his damn smile, she smirked. She didn't know, but she knew it wasn't love… but right here, right now, it was easy to think it was.
So she needed to get out.
Raising from him, she went out to the bathroom and let the shower's water cleanse her body of sweat and other fluids. Then, having dried herself, she went around the apartment, collecting scattered pieces of clothing. At one point, she found his boxers, tossed over the back of a chair in the living room. She secretly slipped them into her pocket. As she put her hand on the door handle, he called from the bedroom.
"We both know how it must be." Silence. She had nothing else she could say.
"Take care, alright?" She opened the door, stepped outside and, the second before closing it, popped her head back in and called out.
"Goodbye… stranger." Then she slammed the door and hurried down the stairs in a halfrun.
She was already in her new home, tucked down in bed and about to get some sleep, when she realized her sack had not been by his door when she left.