These are the lies we want to live [Kait]

“Hey, Lo-ACK!” Chloe started laughing as Lochlann picked her up. She laughed as she carried him all the way down the hallway. Her face was red.

One of the other girls who lived on the hall looked worried as they passed by. “Chloe? Are you…?”

“I’m getting kidnapped.” She explained, all laughter and smiles.

“Oh, okay. Have fun?”

They made it to the elevator. ”Hungry?” he asked.

“Ravenous. And I’m ready to walk a long way, too, once you get tired. I have the best shoes for the job.” Chloe wiggled the claws at the end of her scaly bare feet for emphasis, still laughing. She wasn’t expecting Loch to make a joke about her body, but she certainly didn’t mind seeing it in his invitation. Or perhaps it was a kidnapping notification?

“You look nice, by the way, Loch.” He cleaned up rather nicely. Was he trying to impress her?

“Oh no!” Chloe cried out unconvincingly and pretended to struggle against him. “You fiend! Not fun! Anything but fun!” She hit him lightly on the back with clenched fists.

If Gomorrah was on the itinerary, she’d be able to get them free food and drinks… but with everything that had happened between him and her father lately, she didn’t imagine Loch wanting to go there. There were other bars on the island too, she was sure; hopefully they would let her in.

"You always look nice, so I take it for granted and don't tell you enough."

“Flatterer.” She hit him on the back again and laughed. “Thanks. Do you think people will believe me if I say I’m old enough to drink? I mean, my birth certificate doesn’t exist in this universe, so…”

People were staring at them on the way to the first club. Chloe was a little embarrassed, but it was all too funny for her to mind it. Occasionally, she would see someone she knew. They would look at them, confused, and she would go red in the face and laugh a little bit more and wave.

They finally made it to the club, and she could finally walk on her own two feet again. Thankfully, the music was quiet enough for them to hear each other. “I’m down for chicken wings.”

She looked around the club. It was a pretty subdued place in general. A nice change of pace from Gomorrah’s first floor, as far as she was concerned, but it was also far less stylish than Gomorrah’s first floor. “Is this really the kind of place you can get reservations?” she asked him, “Or was letting the bouncer see up my skirt your whole plan for getting us in?” She smirked. This wasn’t a serious question, even if people could see her panties when he was carrying her around.

Chloe sat down on the stool next to him. She noticed that wink at that other girl earlier, and it reassured her. Now she was less worried about there being romantic overtones to this little excursion of theirs. She could let down her guard a bit more.

What did she want to drink? “I dunno, actually…” she reached over and grabbed one of the little menus they kept on the bar, flipping to their selection of beers.

”No, I wouldn’t let them see your underwear, especially since we might need to use them as a bargaining chip to get into the one club later,”

Chloe’s head shot up to look at him, eyes slightly widened with worry. If she actually had to take off her underwear…

Loch smirked, and Chloe started chuckling with relief. He wasn’t being serious; he just had some kind of suggestion power that got them into the bar. She nodded with understanding.

Prompted about the wings, she flipped back to the page with food on it. “It says they have a sampler, if we want to… nope, wait, cancel that. They have ranch-flavored wings. We’re definitely doing ranch wings.” She flipped back to the drinks. “And I think I’ll get some MCPA, too.” Manta Carlos Pale Ale, a craft beer brewed on the island. It was delicious. Any bar on this island that failed to have that beer was just an abject failure as a bar. At least, so said the bartenders at Gomorrah who taught her a little about beer.

“I can pay for some of this stuff, by the way.” She moved the small purse in her lap closer to her, ready to pull out her debit card if she needed it.

“What? Ranch is tasty,” she said. “Sucks on salad, but it’s great on other stuff.”

If Lochlann wanted to pay, Chloe was fine with that. At least she had offered.

She was about to ask him about his new job, but she needed to come up with a nice way to ask. Her initial instinct was to act surprised: how could he, Lochlann Cabyll-Ushtey, ever hold down a job? Who would hire him? But she might have been cutting too deep with a question like that.

The conversation moved on before she could ask.

”… close your eyes and let me put something in your mouth.”

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “In front of all these people? So forward, Lochlann.” She knew that wasn’t what he meant, though.

”I want you to try something—a drink—but I don’t want you to know what it is. Would this be okay with you?”

A drink from the menu, probably. She spent some time sipping on her beer, weighing the likelihood that he was going to try something like drug her. She spent enough time sipping that beer that it was starting to get awkward. Eventually, she replied.

“…You know what? Sure. I think I trust you that much. Just, uh, lemme know when to close my eyes, ok?” She smiled at him, nervous, but she knew how scared Lochlann was of her father; he wouldn’t do anything too horrible to her. Chloe never thought she would be thankful for how terrifying her father was.