At her equally silly flailing and teasing, Saith smirked. "Oh really? Could have fooled me. I could have sworn all the stories were about how you worked yourself to death. Perhaps the rumor mill lied."

Even if Mae didn't openly admit it, Saith knew she was pleased with his dare. At the dinking of their glasses, he decided to go with a truth. He wasn't about to put her on the spot to declare a dare, hence going with the usually easier option. Granted, there was nothing easy about the dare she spoke to him.

To say he wasn't surprised was an understatement. He knew full-well that this question would come up. Truthfully, he hoped it would come later for he wasn't sure just how to tell his story. Oh, he wanted to be truthful but... what if her intentions were aligned with the wicked?

When she asked just what brought him to the garden that night, Saith just let the question engulf him. It seemed almost biblical. Only, instead of snake and apple, it was water and a poisonous creature. Wait, was it really that different? Apples are mainly water. Snakes are poisonous. Heh, Saith smirked at his own connection.

"The jocks needed a reminder. I stole their prized trophy to kindly remind them not to be asshats." He cringed at his choice of words. "Everyone thinks I stole it because I'm just a jerk. I like the spotlight, the attention. But that's hardly the truth. I stole it because," his eyes fell off her. They seemed... sad.

Conflicted, he took his time in crafting his words. He would be truthful, for she asked for the truth. Still, it was hard. To relive that night and all that came after it, well, it was no easy burden to bare. Why, even Kev didn't know the full truth.

"I should have stopped it. I heard a rumor and I did nothing. I honestly though it was a rumor but... I should have known it would be true. They were," he bit his lip, "planning a hit. She was a sweet little freshie. Gorgeous red curls, an innocent smile, and the greenest of eyes I have ever seen. Hardly knew a damn thing about man and those feral urges. She strayed too close and, like a deer in the headlights, was completely taken by surprise."

Saith pulled his lips together and uttered not another word. At least not until the next song, one with a more up-beat tune came on.

"She's been missing ever since. I've tried to get leads on her but, I'm finding nothing. I thought, if I stole the trophy, and revealed that I knew the truth, they might tell me where she is." His movements seemed frozen. And although his response was more than enough to answer Mae's truth, he continued.

"Instead," he rubbed his shoulder, "I ran into you and ended up needing medical attention. I never got the truth. And when I tried to ask the night after I walked you home, they told me it was too late."

Ears drooping, he felt a knot form in his throat. It was almost hard to breath, even harder to swallow.

"The evidence is long gone. I did get a confession out of them though. Nothing that would hold up in court and nothing they couldn't spin against me. Still, I know where she lays. I got her body's location." A pang of anger smeared his sorrowful gaze. "Bastards dumped her in the lake. I called in an anonymous tip. Telling them I witnessed a car back into the lake. The crime scene investigators have been dredging the lake since Thursday."

The whole time he spoke, he never looked at her. Ashamed for turning something serious into something reckless, the drow blamed himself.

"If I had just been a man about it, instead of trying to hide what I actually do, she might still be alive." Although, deep down, Saith knew she was dead the moment she walked into the locker room. He also knew he could never stop her. She was hell-bent on becoming a 'cool girl.' Why, even Saith, as bad as he seemed to be, didn't have the lure to keep women off jock junk.

"I think the worst part is, no matter how much I pressure those jocks, they never crack. It almost makes me wonder... are they pawns to some bigger game?"

As his mind glided over this thought, he grimaced. "They're too stupid to truly be the masterminds behind these mysterious vanishings. I know the jocks are a clue but I'm missing something. Missing the bigger picture."

Finally, his gaze moved to her. Those blue orbs bore into her core, as if her face held answers. As his eyes jerked around to read all her nonverbal cues, he finally relaxed his brow before adverting his gaze. Based off her eyes alone, he could tell that this was all news to her. Clearly, whoever orchestrated this wanted to keep it under wraps.

"So yeah, there you have it. I fucked up royally and now Lenalie is dead." A cold chill swept across the room.

There was so much more he wanted to share but, in fear of her involvement, he decided to keep it to himself. If she were involved--not that he believed she was--he didn't want to reveal his hand. Not yet. There was no way he could tell her that he was part of a special task group purposely planted on the campus to unearth the truth about the numerous killings that have sprung up over the past few years....

---------- Post added 12-28-2015 at 09:50 AM ----------

"Ha," Cain let loose a laugh. "Don't flatter yourself, mate. I was thinking about following you and then got sidetracked. I just so happened to land here and, low and behold, you happen to be here too. Either it's dumb luck or we're destined to be together."

At his last comment, he winked, knowing full-well she would react violently to such a comment. Still, it was a mere tease. Perhaps she wouldn't get her panties in a knot over his lighthearted joking. Sometimes Marwo was hard to predict.

"Couldn't help but notice your friend over there though," he leaned forward so he could spy the man with the bloody nose. "Didn't like his face? Thought you would help make it better?" Cringing, he shuddered. "Don't know how you would fix him. Bloke's hideous as hell."

As Cain relaxed and found his rhythm, he finally spilled the beans. "Truthfully," he pulled his brilliant orbs up to meet hers, "I wanted to walk you home and make sure you didn't have some one bail you up ((*slang for corner someone*)) like you did to Luke over there." He gestured toward the man eating the wall caked with his nose's blood.

Kicking off the fence, he jumped on his toes a bit before finally catching his balance. With a dip down and then a swing up, he slapped a grin on his face.

"Not that a sheila of your caliber needs a man to walk her home." She didn't need buttering up but he liked the idea so he spoke it anyway.

"Still," his eyes shifted from her, "there's a rumor that mentions a missing woman. Of the four known women who have gone missing, all of them were redheads." Sizing Marwo up, concern washed over his features. "You're a redhead. Spunk as hell ((**overly attractive**)), too. And like the other four women, you're a loner. I just," his hand rubbed the back of his neck, "I know you can defend yourself, saw it first hand, but."

How could he say he cared for her? That he enjoyed the witty banter? That he loved the way she always glared at him?

Sighing, the small smirk on his face turned into a frown.

"You're always stirring up trouble, even if you don't mean it. And I know you can take care of yourself but we know nothing about the individuals behind the kidnappings. I would hate to see you wind up in their clutches."

The only reason he even knew about the kidnappings was, well, one -- he worked heavily with the psychology department and they were tasked with psycho-analyzing the students and faculty, and two -- probably most importantly, he was accused of the crimes. Of course, he wasn't the culprit and was completely blind to the whole ordeal until after he had been exonerated. Oh, and not as prevalent, there were posts in the school paper that mentioned missing women. There were also the obituaries too. Both shuffled under the rug but visible to the public if they wanted to learn more.

Running a hand through his pink hair, he tried to muster up a small smile for her. It was pathetic though. Quite pitiful. But, even so, it was a gesture that came with a promise of friendship. And, if indulged, perhaps something more.

Even if she objected, called the police, or beat him into pulp, Cain would follow her home. Within, he hoped that someday she would come to appreciate him. Maybe even allow him to walk her home, without threats.

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