The Exception Pt. 01

The feeling he experienced in that moment couldn't be accurately described. But it wasn't appreciated. He figured even if he'd lost rights to all other aspects of himself, he should have at least held complete ownership of his own emotions.

She wouldn't have those too. He wouldn't let her. All he needed to do was remember why he was here in the first place.

His line of sight was then blocked by Richard as he walked over to her with her belongings.

Looking up at the station's clock, the time read 03 53. That gave him around 3 hours to rest and get to work. If he was lucky, then Luka would be hungover until late that morning. Maybe even till midday.

Being AWOL again was not an option. Janice had made it more than clear his job was now hanging on a silk thread. Although something told him nothing wrong needed to take place for that to happen.

He pushed against the bar, cracking his joints in the process.

"I'm keeping the whiskey though," he heard Richard admonish while removing her tag, "Consider a milk bottle next time. You should at least be old enough for that."

"Fuck you!"

Connor blinked the surprise away. Beautiful relationship these two must have established. One would think they enjoyed it if they weren't both such arses by nature.

Luka immediately made a dash for Connor's back, gripping his bicep and using him as a human shield from the big bad policeman. It earned his amusement. In so many ways, she was no different from a child.

"Think fast" was all the warning given before he caught a set of gold keys with the Porsche insignia on one.

It invoked a feeling of dread. She could've been dead by now if the freighter's trailer never had enough clearance to go over her ride.

He spared her a frown over his shoulder.

"Sorry," she whispered, mouth pressed up against his shoulder plate like she was afraid of something. The heat of her breath seeped through his top as the word came out.

Connor looked back and voiced his gratitude. Richard merely nodded off handedly as he went back to his revolving chair, Luka switching positions appropriately.

It felt so unethical, but a large chunk of him couldn't help but wonder; How okay would he be with their arrangement if she could stay this way? This devastatingly cute, clumsy and clueless Luka.

A Luka without the condescending attitude. Without the impossible requests or downright self-centred character.

Of course that would still leave her with quite the mouth and a plethora of social manners to work on. But hey... Who was polite and without profanity in this day and age? The pope notwithstanding.

He shook his head before getting on with life. When you got right down to it, all of this amounted to nothing.

In the morning, she wouldn't recall him ever steadying her with a hand around her waist. Nor would she remember being comfortable and leaning into him.

She would never admit refusing to let go of him till they reached her car and she'd have no recollection his warm jacket or having her belt fastened for her.

That was the first and last time he would see that smile and likely the only chance he got to see her so unguarded.

But it was okay. What did he care how some spoilt rich kid acted when she had a little too much to drink?

She would be back to treating him like dirt in the morning. And he'd deserve it too if he was naive enough to believe she could be any different.

**********

06 15hrs

Sun rays eagerly seeped in through the fluttering blinds. A particularly windy morning was as assured as the tides. Unstoppable and unnegotiable.

What he would give for just one more hour. Not to sleep, but to pour out his thoughts onto the screens before him. To reorganise and make sense of every last concept before packing them away with a click of a button.

But he could see the carnage that was his desk. The discarded notes littered with illegible pencil marks or the wires and circuit boards parked on top of the said notes. His objective was a far cry at this point. Nothing short of a delusion.

Soon there would be colour and traffic noises. He could already smell trace amounts of coffee and toast in the works by fellow neighbours.

In fifteen minutes time, the keeper would come knocking by on each door, turning them out to the meaningless jobs that kept them fed and sheltered in this hole.

But it's okay. He was used to it. Maybe he'd have time to work early tomorrow morning.

Connor dropped the pencil with the intention of shutting the window. A tired yawn broke free as he pushed back on his chair and reaching for his glasses.

But then the motion came to an unexpected stop. A set of soft hands were felt on his bare shoulders and stayed there.

It was alarming at first. Then it clicked. The tension faded just as quickly as it came.

"Hi," he began.

Her drunk self almost threw a tantrum at the suggestion of being alone so he compromised by introducing her to his place for the first time.

He did have a spare room she could sleep in after all. Nowhere near her standards, but it would have to do.

Luka brought a hand up to his hair and gently played with the dark mess. It was rather soothing. So soothing that he barely managed to catch a sigh of contentment before it broke loose. Needless to say, nothing was done to stop her efforts.

Her other hand joined in and her warm body was felt pressing into him from behind. "What's an exception?" she asked in that soft voice of hers.

Connor couldn't even recall when his eyelids closed shut. They opened with reluctance to note the on screen dialogue. The very reason he was at war with his toys this early on.

"It's a problem," he replied.

"What kind?"

Connor looked up thoughtfully. "It's difficult to explain. An exception happens when the coder attempts the impossible."

The explanation only confused her further. "Why would you want to ask your computer for the impossible in the first place?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at misinterpretation. "I assure you. It's not by intention," he replied, spinning around on the chair to face her.

She was still in the oversized baseball top he dressed her in. The large neckline went around a bare shoulder and hem was riding dangerously high on smooth thighs. That alone stirred up his loins terribly.

"Say you send a child to get a bowl sugar..." He highlighted his point by picking up a basin. What it was doing on his work desk was another story entirely.

"Upon reaching the cupboard, that child discovers he's not tall enough to get it. You did not give him the ladder for elevation nor did you teach him a chair could serve the same function.

"Now then comes that moment where he returns and tells you; 'You fucked up. Give me proper instructions'. That's throwing an exception."

The young man stood up and stretched excessively. "Unfortunately..." He changed positions and pulled another set of muscles, "...there are times where that child is a mute who can't tell you what the problem is exactly."

She had a look of understanding about her. Azure eyes trailed over the chaos. Her bare feet trekked over to the second desk where the blueprints lay neatly arranged. It was the only table he actually bothered to keep in order.

"I'll admit," she started, "it looks interesting, but I still don't see what you are trying to create."

His hands found his pockets as he leaned back against the wooden desk. "It's just a toy."

"And that's what you woke up for? A toy?" Luka turned around and padded the short distance to the window. "That's a little anticlimactic."

"I never went back to sleep in the first place," he shrugged. "You on the other hand, should still be in bed with a splitting headache from hell."

"Oh it's there," she mused. Her hand rose and pointed out the open window. "But then I'd miss that."

He kept his gaze on her a few seconds longer. In that moment, she resembled an angel. Her loosened brown hair drifting about in the wind, the golden lining the sun cast upon the edge of her face. It gave new reason to being awake this early.

His gaze then shifted to where she gestured. The sun was peeking through the cracks between tall skyscrapers, appearing larger and slightly dimmer than it normally was.

He smiled. "I guess I can appreciate the sentiment. Though in most instances, it signifies the start of the worst part of my day."

Luka shook her head. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing."

He looked on curiously. "Well feel free to enlighten me."

Her palms found the window sill and her feet rose to her toes as she leaned over. The makeshift night-shirt was pulled up in the process.

"I'll let you in on a little secret of mine." She said. "How many colours do you see?"

There was a pause as he counted. "About three, maybe four. Each with their own shades."

"Name them. Be descriptive."

Okay. He liked games. "Aside from the usual grey? Then I see the lighter shades of lavender. And a bright amber reflecting off the city windows," he added. "If you put them together, then we're talking neon pink and even peach."

She smiled nonchalantly. "If you were to ask me the same question, I couldn't be sure."

And that caught his attention. He gave it some thought but came up empty. "I don't... I don't follow."

"I can only see so many. Making this the only time of the day where I see everything as it really is."

And that's when it hit him. "So that's why you always take me along when you go shopping. You can't really tell what you're buying, can you?"

For a while the brunette chose not to respond. All she did was simply stare out at the sunrise and enjoy the breeze like he didn't exist.

"Luka?" he probed.

"You don't feel sorry for me, do you Connor?"

Slowly he nodded his head, unsure of the correct response. "I kinda do actually."

"Don't," she said spinning around, her loose hair fanning out in the process. "It's not like I ever knew any better."

"But don't you ever wonder though? What the world really looks like?"

Three girl shrugged. "The mornings are enough." As bizarre as he found it, Luka genuinely looked like she believed it. "But there have been a couple of times where it's gotten in the way."

She turned around and approached the table with the blueprints. "I actually used to like art. I was nowhere near this precise with my sketches of course but..." She drew a finger over the schematics lightly. "But it was still fun.

"Then one day, our teacher decided it was time she switched us up from using chalk and wax pastels to mixing oil paints and gouache."

She turned her head to him with her digits still on the material. "I think what frustrated her the most was how she couldn't get me to actually see where I got the gradients wrong, you know?"

Connor could only shake his head no. How do you even relate to something like that?

"It's okay," she smiled looking back at the oversized papers. "It doesn't mean I can't admire the talent."

"I-I'm... I'm so sorry," he said stupidly.

Luka giggled at the sight of his heartbroken expression. "Doesn't it help your ego to know you're not simply around for the shopping bags?"

He frowned a little at that. "And here I was under the impression you actually liked my company."

She gave him a suggestive smile before forgetting all about the designs and sauntering over to where he sat. Her hips swayed naturally as she walked.

"l do." she half whispered, parking her feet between his legs. A shin was then raised to the top of his thigh. "I like a lot of things about you."

Suddenly, the air he breathed felt ten times thicker. It only got worse when she bent over and rested a forearm beside his neck. Such a position offered him a nearly unobstructed gaze down the T-shirt she wore.

"For starters, I like how these suit you." Her free hand began pulling reading glasses off a stupefied Connor.

"I also like being able to do this," she said smoothly rubbing her cheek directly up against his beardless one and stopping when her mouth reached his ear.

She simply held there, seemingly enjoying the slow friction and breathing tenderly. Warm air rippled against his skin. Just the sound of her breath left his sideburns standing on edge.

There was the clatter of spectacles landing on the desk before her hand trailed down his arm. "These are nice too," she whispered while trailing the lean muscles down to his hand.

"But you wanna know what I like about you the most?" Her hand confidently picked up his nervous hand and shamelessly brought it to her chest.

"More than everything else..."

By the gods he would never get used to the feel off her. The warmth, the tenderness, her perfectly round form, even in this position.

"... It's this."

Luka drew herself back a little and removed her hand, but his hand stubbornly remained on her. He was embarrassed to find himself without the willpower to let go.

And that predatory smile on her lips. He'd done it again hadn't he? He'd fallen into some kind of trap that effectively proved her point.

"You're shivering," she stated. He was. He didn't know why but he was. She had this uncanny ability to turn him on way past obscene levels, seemingly without even trying.

Her chest pressed further into his palm. "So..." she continued. "I woke up today to find myself in this." Her hand purposely tugged down on the neckline for emphasis.

His breath caught at the creamy sight.

"I'm missing my bra and my panties." She looked into his eyes expectantly.

"I-I'm sorry," he replied when it was clear it was his turn to speak, "but I... Christ... I never heard a word you just said."

The girl cocked her head. "What happened to my underwear, Connor?"

Brown eyes widened in panic. "I thought... I mean I figured it would have been a bit more expedient if..."

She just watched bemusedly as his own anxiety tore his composure apart.

"You were wearing tight synthetics the whole day and... and it's just not all that hygienic or comfortable. I swear I wasn't trying to be..."

"Did you look?" She gave him a salacious smile.

The apology got stuck in his throat. Perhaps he did go too far.

But she had been wearing the same drawers since early the previous morning.

And she most definitely was not in the position to make a better judgement herself.

Connor finally got his tongue untied. "I'm sorry."

Unfortunately moral values were not the topic here.

Without warning, Luka did something completely out of character. She straddled him and sat herself on his lap. Her crotch pressed right up against the full erection he was trying so hard to hide. His heart skipped a beat. Then another.

"Did you smell them?" His ward clasped both hands behind his neck.

The brat got off on this too. His shame. She practically rolled around in it like a pig does in mud. He could only turn his head away but her deft fingers brought it back.

"Be honest. How did the scent of me make you feel?"

It wasn't his mouth that answered on his behalf though. She purposely ground back against him in response. His disloyal body betrayed him again with a rasp groan and a tremor.

Luka grinned knowingly as her fingers combed free strands of hair out of his eyes.

He recalled the scene. How he promised himself it would just be an in-out job.

He'd innocently take off her garments without waking her, and dress her in his favoured top. He wouldn't stare. He wouldn't touch.

And for the most part he managed. He did his best to be a gentleman and respect her. But that last ungodly temptation broke him completely.

It was torture enough placing perfectly toned legs over his shoulders. And it only got worse when he pulled the underwear off the said legs... when he saw the mouth-watering revelation of what lay underneath.

Not long after, he hesitantly backed up off the bed with but one reward for his discipline. The cotton in his left hand. He remembered, his hand was trembling then too.

It was never his intention to bring it up to his face. The damn thing just called out to him.

So in the moment he lost the struggle, Connor found it to be the most arousing object he'd ever held.

Now in that state, what would any red blooded male do? Go to bed with a painful and swollen set of blue balls? Pretend like everything was alright despite the raging hard on demanding his attention?

"You beat off to the smell of me didn't you?" She teased. "That is just... crude."

"D-damn it Luka, I said I was sorry alright," he shot back frustratedly. "It just happened... I didn't plan for it. Before I knew it I-... Fuck, could you please cut that out?"

His hands quickly found her hips and forced them to a halt. He almost regretted it. The last time he held her still like this, it had been a very different scenario.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Her eyebrows rose in amused shock. "It just happened?" Connor tried to look away but once again, she brought him back.

God, he wished, he just wished he could hate her as much as she deserved.

"It just happened that you took my panties to a little dark corner," she dug further. "It just happened that you pulled down your trousers, and whacked off as hard as you could. It just happened that while you did that, my undies..."

"Yes!" he cut in, unable to stand any further humiliation. "That's exactly it. It all just 'happened'." He could only imagine the colour of his face right now. No wonder she looked so entertained. He was the joke here.

Luka conveniently readjusted her tush before continuing. "Well I still feel like I had my privacy violated," she said. Her coy expression told him otherwise. "How do you hope to fix that?"

Her soft pink lips were just mere centimetres from his as she spoke. He could feel every syllable that left her mouth.

Jesus, did she have to bite them like that?

She narrowed the distance between their mouths a little more, pressing her body snugly against his. "Any ideas, Connor?"

Thinking straight was a privilege. All he could imagine was how devilishly sweet it would feel to finally get a taste of them. All he needed to do was tilt his head up a little more and...

A sharp pain at the back of his head jerked his eyes open. Her grip tightened painfully on the dark hair there, preventing him from bridging the gap. "The hell Luka?!"

"You're so easy sometimes, you know that?"

She said it with what looked like a mixture of disappointment and sympathy. Her cocky smile was nowhere to be seen.

A moment later, the hand on her breast was pushed away as she got up off his lap. Without another word, the beauty made her way out of his work area towards the kitchen like nothing had happened. It made him question if he just imagined it all.

He fell back in his chair, groaning silently to himself. Was all that necessary? Avoiding morning wood was his silver lining for the lack of sleep. But now look what happened.

Aren't there simpler ways for a girl to validate herself? And what in the hell did she mean by 'easy'? It's not like she ever gave him the freedom of choice.

On first contact, he found the nymph to be way too cute. Maybe subtly flirtatious too, but he could deal with that. It kind of was his job after all.

But then a few days back, Luka unofficially waged war on his libido. The taunts, the teasing, the edging and the dares. They all started up in earnest while the means of gratification became less and less frequent.

It was all piling up, one on top of the other, dragging him to his cracking point. The little brat really knew how to mind fuck a guy.

And that was what the name of the game. She would mercilessly push his buttons, torturing him relentlessly with every sexual provocation in the book, knowing his hands were tied.