The first part of Eight's plan to avoid Angelo and Jessica went well. He slipped down the steep, narrow staircase as soon as he heard the first sounds of the innkeeper's family stirring, bought breakfast for himself and King Trode, and even managed to run for the stable during a lull in the storm. The king was in a mood to complain, which distracted him while he groomed Medea, and then the storm got worse, which gave him an excuse not to return to the inn immediately.
He wondered if he could avoid everyone until they were back on the road and things were...hopefully...back to normal.
Even King Trode eventually ran out of complaints, though. He was so mollified by Eight's attentiveness that, when the downpour eased, he patted Eight kindly on the shoulder and said, "Well, my boy, no sense in all of us being stuck out here and miserable. You go back inside before the rain starts up again."
"I really don't mind."
"Nonsense! Off you go."
Eight sighed, but objecting would either get him a lecture or, worse, King Trode would want to know why he preferred the floor of a slightly-damp stable to a comfortable inn, so he had little choice but to slog back across the muddy courtyard and brave the common room.
"Oy, Guv! We was wonderin' when Grandad'd let you come back in."
Eight forced a smile as any hope he'd had of sneaking upstairs was destroyed. With a sigh, he sat across from Yangus at the long table which dominated the room. "The storm got worse while I was taking care of Medea," he said by way of excuse, and hoped the subject would drop.
"Yes, it does appear we're going to be here a while," Angelo said.
Eight risked a glance in his direction. Angelo sat at a table by a window, a book propped open in front of him, seemingly untroubled that Eight had witnessed what happened the night before, while Jessica was nowhere to be seen.
Of course, Angelo probably wouldn't have cared if Eight had watched him take Jessica right there on the long table...and that was really not something he needed to be thinking about.
Unfortunately, he was as helpless to avoid thinking about it as he'd been to avoid watching. The little catch in Jessica's breath when she had realized Angelo was drawing her close for the kiss. His tongue tracing gently along her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open. Long, slender fingers curved around her arm; lean, strong body curved toward her.
Looking away hadn't been possible; he'd tried, and his eyes had been drawn back. Not because of what they were doing - it wasn't as if he'd never walked in on a couple taking advantage of a storage room or seldom-used corridor. It had been...them, both of them, together and individually, until he hadn't known which one he wanted to...
He really, really needed to not be thinking about this.
He made an excuse to leave - he hoped it had been a good one, since he couldn't remember what he'd said - and took the stairs two at a time.
Straight into Jessica.
Reflexively, Eight caught her arms to steady himself as he stumbled down a step, and found he was face to chest with her. Frantically, he tipped his head back to look at her face instead, only to find that it wasn't much of an improvement. Their eyes met; she blushed and looked away. Eight knew he was blushing, too, but there was another kind of heat on his skin, and his hands tightened briefly around her arms before he let her go.
"Sorry, I should have been paying attention." He pressed against the wall and climbed a step higher, trying to squeeze past without actually touching her.
She looked up, still blushing; her lips caught his attention as they parted to say speak, and he had to drag his eyes away from them, stifling the insane desire to kiss her the way Angelo had.
As if he could, even if she'd let him.
"Is everything all right?" she asked
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"I hope my behavior last night didn't change your opinion of me." She said the words in a rush. "That truly isn't like me."
"More's the pity," Angelo said, a few steps farther down the stairs. "You should let yourself enjoy life more often."
"I think you 'enjoy life' quite enough for all of us," Jessica said tartly.
"Not judging from last night."
Jessica raised her head and straightened her shoulders; Eight pressed tighter against the wall and carefully stared at a spot over her head. "Did you want something?"
Angelo climbed the last few steps and rested his hand on her shoulder, thumb tracing the line of her collarbone. "I wanted to see if you were planning to grace us with your presence."
The air felt heavy, charged, and Eight really didn't think he'd complain if lightning struck the inn, as long as it did it soon. Preferably right where he was standing.
"I'll grace you with something," Jessica said, but her voice was soft, so that it sounded more promise than threat.
Or maybe he could get past Angelo, go back downstairs and get Yangus to distract him, visit King Trode again.
Angelo leaned forward, his lips following the path he'd traced with his thumb. Jessica gasped softly, her hands rising as if to push Angelo's head away, her fingers tangling in his hair instead, toying with it as Angelo worked his way up her throat to her mouth.
Eight knew he shouldn't, and watched anyway.
Jessica's head tipped back; her eyes closed. The charge in the air was stronger; Eight's skin felt too hot, too tight for him to breathe properly. The hand Angelo had been resting on Jessica's shoulder now curved against her breast, thumb teasing across the fabric; Jessica made a soft sound in her throat, and Eight clenched his own hands into fists before he could do anything stupid.
They'd both obviously forgotten about him; he could slip past them and downstairs, definitely downstairs, because if he went into his room he wouldn't be able to think about anything but what the two of them were doing.
He started to edge past; Angelo's hand moved to catch his arm, gripping too hard for him to get away without a struggle he didn't want to make. The tension centered there, under that hand.
"I think," Angelo said, and his face was still close to Jessica's, lips brushing across her cheek, "we should take this to the bedroom."
Jessica made a sound almost like a purr. "I think you're right," she said. Her eyes opened, and when she saw Eight she glanced aside, but didn't protest his presence.
"We're in agreement, then?" Angelo's blue eyes were fixed on him, now, and Eight found he couldn't answer.
Instead, he just followed.
