CONTAINS CONTENT:
Brief strong language, and mild sensual talk / sensual situations.
{Unedited}}
Silent tears were streaming down Marielle’s face as she looked up into Vincent’s sad, brown eyes. “You think I’m ugly, don’t you?” She asked brokenly.
Vincent’s eyes watered, and he shook his head from side to side, “Non, Marielle. Tu es belle. Les fantômes sont présents et j’ai peur,” Vincent breathed against her neck, both wrapped tightly in the sheet, as their breathing calmed. They were still one being, he hadn’t left her, yet.
“Comment puis-je aider, mon amour?”
Vincent cleared his throat, and lifted his head, looking down at her. “Tu n’es pas moche, Marielle, mais je pense que tu comprends pourquoi c’est difficile.” She nodded, understanding completely. This was traumatizing for him. Both were suffering from the entire ordeal; she wanted to forget the whole thing, as well.
He helped her up, and held her against his strong chest, feeling her heart, her skin, her breathing. She was alive; she was okay.
She probably needed time, and help, but she was alive and unhurt, and he knew that Austin had done it, not him.
This was one of the key reasons that he’d put Austin in the room next to them… as much as their growing love for one another hurt, he knew that Austin would do whatever he could to protect Marielle even if Vincent couldn’t. This caused Vincent’s chest to ache, but it was the way that it had to be.
He helped her to the shower again, and they both quickly rinsed off, together, standing under the water in silence as they held each other. Then they got dressed, and Vincent took her down the hall to a room four down and knocked.
Kirra answered the door, her eyes red and puffy from sobbing.
To Vincent’s shock and horror, Wei Ling was in her room, as was Liam, and Sasha’s body was on the bed. Wei Ling was sitting on the bed with him, her hands gently stroking his face and hair. “Mon dieu… are you still trying?” He asked and he gently lifted his free hand and cupped Kirra’s cheek. She began to sob again into his big hand. “He’s gone, mon amie,” he breathed. “Let him rest.”
Liam stood and sighed, coming to the door behind Kirra. “I tried to tell them as much. They wanted to try for a while longer.” He turned to Wei Ling who was stretched parallel to Sasha’s body, her hands on his chest. “I’m calling it,” he whispered brokenly, his gaze finding her’s. Her eyes were red and swollen and rimmed with giant tears as she rested her hand against his stilled heart. She sighed, bowed her head, and nodded, the weight of defeat and the loss of the man she secretly loved pouring from her eyes.
Wei Ling leaned over him, and gave his lips a tender kiss. “Rest well, my hunter,” she breathed against his mouth. “May you find peace.”
Liam went to the bed, picked up his body and carried him out, Wei Ling following closely behind; head down as she quietly cried. No one ever talked about the secret love that she’d had for Sasha, unrequited, now lost forever. Marielle squeezed Wei Ling’s hand as she passed and Wei Ling paused, but didn’t meet eyes with her. She nodded blankly back to Marielle and kept walking.
The sound of Liam’s boots and the creaking against the floor became distant as death marched on.
Vincent brought Marielle into Kirra’s room and they paused, all three looking to one another as Kirra wiped her tears away for the last time regarding Sasha. They gave her a moment as she said, “Can I help you?”
“You can do something that you might not know that you can do…” he explained. “You regrow cells. You can regrow hair,” he explained.
She put her fingers to her lips in shock, and glanced at Marielle, wide eyed. “How do you know I can do that?”
“I saw you do it, once.” He sat in her chair near a window. “It’s difficult and it takes a lot out of you. You won’t be able to grow much, but-”
“Just enough so that you don’t feel violated,” she realized turning to Marielle, who was looking at the floor with silent tears rolling down her face. “Do you want me to do this for you, Sheila?” Marielle nodded, brokenly. Then she sat in the chair opposite Vincent and waited. “I’ll do it,” Kirra said, and her tone sounded like she was desperate to help anyone.
She stood behind Marielle, put her fingertips on either side of her scalp, and cocked her head. “It’s strange, I’ve never tried this, but I can feel it. I know exactly what I’m doing,” she explained. Then she took a few deep breaths, and let them out before she pressed in with her abilities.
Agonizingly slowly, the tiny bit of black fuzz on Marielle’s head began to sprout at a glacial pace.
It took about half an hour for Marielle to regain what Vincent guessed was about four and a half to five months’ worth of hair growth before Kirra couldn’t continue. She collapsed back onto her own bed and panted, exhausted.
Marielle reached up, and put her fingers into her hair, hardly believing it. She stood, shakily and went to the bathroom mirror, looking at herself. She wasn’t bald… Oh, thank God, she wasn’t bald! She shook her head quickly, like a dog, watching it move, and bounce. She thought that it was ironic that between the length – and the way it’d grown out – it looked a little like Austin’s before he’d had his shaved off as well.
She ran to Kirra, and collapsed on top of her, holding her close. “Oh, thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you, so much. This is so much more than I could have hoped for.”
Vincent smiled and silently looked down, feeling himself eyeing their closeness more than admiring her elation.
“I can probably do this for Austin too, huh?”
Marielle nodded, lifting her head off Kirra’s chest and grinning at her. “I feel so much more normal.”
Kirra sat up, and embraced her as Marielle thanked her again before she and Vincent went back to their room.
Vincent settled her next to him on the bed, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into him. “Do you think that you can sleep, love?” he whispered, kissing her temple.
“I’m not really sure.”
“I’m going to take a sleeping aid if that’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” She asked, lifting her head a little.
He smiled and kissed her temple, “I just want to be sure that you are okay not needing me for a while.”
“Vincent, I’m traumatized,” she replied bluntly. She sighed. “There’s no better way of putting it. I will need a few days.” She took in a deep breath, and Vincent ran his fingers slowly and purposefully through her beautiful hair. “I don’t know how to handle what I’ve experienced,” she breathed, her eyes welling up.
“Do you need to talk about it?”
She tucked her knees up into her chest as he held her. “I – I don’t know.”
“Did they beat you?”
She sighed. “One of them slapped me… another…” she paused, thinking about Four Two Seven’s tongue slipping up the side of her face.
“They touched you?” The muscles in Vincent’s arms became taut and veiny.
“One did.” She shook her head rapidly as she buried her face into the pillow. “They made me undress. They all stared at me,” she said into the pillow as if hiding it meant it hadn’t happened.
“Oh, love…” He planted gentle kisses across her shoulder blade. “No, love… no.”
She was shaking. “Austin killed them all,” she eventually peeped.
Vincent understood then that this had been the strangest part for her. She wanted him to kill them all… but it had terrified her; what she’d seen, and how he’d done it. She was in a state of high alert both loving Austin for slaughtering the men who’d hurt her, and being utterly traumatized by seeing it happen. “Did he…” He swallowed hard, “-did Austin touch you?”
She turned her head, glaring at him with anger in her eyes. “…No.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, I meant-”
“You’re asking if I slept with Austin… is that what you care about right now?”
Vincent exhaled and pressed his face against her back, shamefully. “That’s not how I meant it, Masin.”
“Yes, it is.” He repressed the rage welling inside of him, and tensed his jaw as he looked at her again. “Yes, Vincent, I screwed Austin… are you happy? We sort of had some free time, so in a freezing room, in an orange onesie, with a shaved head, I sort of nonchalantly laid back and said hey, hey…you know? I just couldn’t help myself,” she hissed.
“Masin,” Vincent said in a gentle, fatherly tone as he turned her to him, and stroked through her hair. “Please try to understand what I was meaning to say.”
“I understand, Vincent,” she growled. “But it’s an inappropriate question right now.”
He touched her face, then cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “Masin,” he whispered, “I would understand.” She swallowed hard. Vincent started to speak in a soft, calm, controlled tone. “He protected you. He killed for you… you thought that you were going to die in there.”
She paused, searching his face. He was hurt, but being honest. “He kissed me. That’s it. Unless you count the two times that they made me pass through him at gunpoint and with the threat of shock sticks pressing at us from all angles.” There was silence and Vincent’s expression showed shame that he’d even pushed the idea. “And the kiss? Like a family member kisses you. Quick, shy.” She went distant for a moment, remembering it; reimagining the feel of his cracked lips against hers. “He was saying goodbye.” She wasn’t going to tell him how much she enjoyed it, how he’d done it more than once, or how he’d held her so close that she could feel every part of him most of the time that they were in there. She wasn’t going to admit how Austin had also told her that he was in love with her, Vincent already knew this, and so did she to some degree- or at least, she knew that that was what Austin thought that he felt. She wasn’t entirely sure of the validity of the claim. She was definitely not going to tell Vincent how she’d almost said the same back to him in a moment of despair when she was about to be forced – for the third time – to move through Austin and how it would have actually killed her.
She trembled against Vincent and he pulled her against his hard body, enveloping her and squeezing tightly. “I need to know that you’re going to be okay, Masin. And part of that means understanding everything that you went through… including with him.”
“He kissed me,” she said with a sigh. “That was pretty much it. It was cold; freezing, actually. We kept each other warm.”
Vincent sighed, and continued his gentle combing through her short hair. “I am grateful to him, then,” he said brokenly, understanding that this meant that their bond had only deepened and that there was no stopping whatever course this had created now.
“You should be. You’ll never understand what he went through in there,” she explained, truly taking in the fact that he’d also been through it all, and that she hadn’t spoken to or heard from Austin in a long while. That was starting to worry her.
She desired home; she wanted her own bed. She knew they were going to be done soon, but other thoughts and feelings were starting to tear at her insides. Vincent was keeping something more from her… she could feel it, and this was something that was mortifying; she knew that this was why he wouldn’t tell her whatever it was that he was keeping back.
Vincent nodded. “I didn’t sleep.”
“I can see it in your eyes, love,” she said, and for the first time in a while, she reached over and touched his face, then her fingers trailed up into his hair, and she dragged her nails back across his scalp. “No, I don’t mind if you take your sleeping aid. I’ll still be able to wake you if I need you, right?” she asked. He nodded. “Do you think that you can rest, now?” She asked.
“If I know that you are safe, I’ll be able to rest. I’ll never be able to rest if you are not safe,” he explained.
“Then rest, love,” she said, leaning in and kissing him deeply, and passionately. For a moment, they were lost in one another’s kiss, their mouths speaking to one another; words that they couldn’t say but felt all the same.
Then, she reached up, removed his glasses for him, putting them aside and gently combed through his hair for several minutes, helping his muscles to relax, and his arms to release their tension.
He got up, went to the bathroom, took a pill, drank some water, and wandered back to bed. She couldn’t see it, but tears were falling off his face.
He knew all the things and all of them were killing him. He even knew that she was going to sneak out in a while… he decided not to care for now. He couldn’t care. All that he could do was figure out the next step… just get to the next day… the next night… the next hour…the next minute… the next second… keep moving.
Soon he was asleep.
Marielle rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. It was so quiet; it was too quiet… the silence was starting to cause her to panic. The anxiety was becoming overwhelming.
Cory and Austin had done something, hadn’t they? Nightwatch and Tundra, that was… She had to stop thinking of Austin as Tundra and Tundra as Austin.
All of Marielle’s breaths were shaky, and thin. She swallowed hard, and curled into a ball on her side, trying to sleep, finding none, and experiencing no relief.
She tried rolling over to her left side, away from Vincent who was softly snoring, now. But that didn’t help… every time she closed her eyes, she continued to see that place, the room with bits of her hair on the ground. She continued to see those eyes on her and hear the sights and sounds. Her head hadn’t stopped ringing with gunfire all night. Her mind echoed with screams, shouts… bones snapping, and popping. Austin’s eyes blazing down at Four two seven… I promised… crack.
Barbara, and that thing that slithered between her fingers and how she was going to put it into Austin.
She sat up for a moment trying to hold back vomit.
Austin… he wasn’t okay, was he? Not after that. He’d grounded himself, and stayed in the moment… but now that the world wasn’t spinning like a perpetual merry go round, she knew that it must all be hitting him the same way that it was hitting her. “Don’t worry, Austin… if Shadow can’t find your mouth, he’ll find another entry…”
She rushed to the bathroom, and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet.
***
The soft knock at the door startled Austin at this hour. He went to it, opening. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Kirra.
He stood for a moment in the doorway, stiff and uncertain. This felt like another attempt to seduce him, and he was wondering for a moment if it would be okay to grab her, put his mouth to hers, and start a tongue war as he dragged her in and to his bed.
He refrained… he didn’t even understand his own actions for a moment as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, leaned his temple against the open door and looked down… shame… that’s what it was… shame.
He was drunk, but hiding it well. Although he was certain that he looked dumber than a dog who’d just eaten his own vomit and was now sitting with his tongue out, grinning. He wasn’t grinning, but he felt like he looked about that disillusioned.
Her green eyes wandered over him with compassion. “I can help with the hair,” she finally said. He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes, inquisitively. “Your hair,” she explained. “I can make it grow… if you want,” she stammered. “I did it to Marielle a few hours ago,” she explained. “She’s got some beautiful hair again. Not much, but she’s not bald.” Kirra smirked then, and dared to reach up, gently touching his cheek, “in- in fact, it looks a little like yours did,” she explained, tracing a line to his jaw. It tensed. She let her hand drop off. She looked like she was starting to feel uncomfortable in the silence; watching the fight that was taking place in him.
He wanted her to come in, and take her clothes off for him… that was what he wanted. He was already imagining it and he knew – even in his inebriated state – that he needed to tell her to go back to her room. She was here offering something else, but if he asked her, she’d come in and do anything. She paused, as he felt the tension become palpable, and taut. “Say something,” she breathed.
He had to, he was about to lose himself. He’d heard somewhere once that you have five seconds once you have a thought; five seconds to act on it, or you’d change your mind, or talk yourself out of it. “I don’t want it,” he replied, quickly. She tilted her head at him, her expression starting with offense, and melting quickly into concern, and understanding. “Thank you, but-” he kept his eyes off her. “I need this right now,” he explained. “I don’t know why, but I do.”
She nodded; he needed to experience life for a while a little outside of his control. “You know where I am if you change your mind,” she breathed, gently. He swallowed and nodded, “About… any of it.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled, listening as she walked away. “Kirra,” he whispered, but it sounded like a shout in his mind. She turned, and he thought that he could actually hear her heart pounding. He didn’t look at her. All that he said was, “thank you.”
She nodded her response, wandered back to her room, and shut the door with a soft click.
It took everything in him not to run after her, knock, and push his way in when she answered.
Instead, he slowly closed his own door and locked it before going back to the edge of his bed, where he sat straight backed and watched the fire that he’d started about twenty minutes beforehand. The flames were big and bright, and it filled the room with a warmth that he couldn’t feel, and an orange and golden glow that he saw as gray… he was so numb.
He took another swig off his beer; no one would be calling him tonight or anytime soon. Barbara was dead, now. He chuckled silently; Barbara had always been dead. The woman in the elevator had been a stranger, but he didn’t know that until that moment.
The company could call him, but he was already reassigned for the end of the year; Hong Kong. This guy – the one they’d assigned him to – was a killer, supposedly bulletproof. Austin would have his hands full watching him, following him, and trailing him.
Austin knew that his entire mind would be filled with nothing but Marielle, except he wouldn’t have her- he’d be alone, again, hiding in shadows, spending endless hours at bars, drinking a single cocktail, and pretending to read some inane book that he cared nothing about.
Iso, or The Dead Lilac – that was the target’s name – would see Austin sooner or later, that was for sure. He briefly wondered if this relationship would turn the way that his and Chamber’s had. Preferably without any further additions to Austin’s personal armory.
After years of being on Chamber’s tail, he and Austin knew one another, had studied one another; researched one another.
Austin had stopped trying to hide from him not even two years in. Chamber had sent him a drink several times… he’d never forget the first time it happened.
“Compliments of the Frenchman,” the waiter’d said.
For a moment Austin thought that Chamber had been hitting on him, but it was fleeting, and when he’d turned to him and Chamber was staring and saluting Austin with the same drink, it was clear that he wasn’t- Chamber was just saying Enjoy your evening, Austin. Austin lifted his as well, and from twenty feet away, the two shared a drink together. They never spoke… but sometimes they did such things; things that said, I know you, you know me, we both know we’re here and that’s that.
The fire crackled, but there wasn’t enough noise to fill his head and drown out the constant ringing from gunfire, and the pounding that it had caused.
Absentmindedly, he put his fingertips to the insides of his eyebrows the way that Vincent had shown him a few days ago. It helped a little.
He was telling himself to turn, find his headphones, put them in, and play something aggressively loud, something full of angst and rage so that he could feel some kind of release. What was the hardest sounding thing he had in his library? Rammstein came to mind…but no matter how many times he said turn and find your headphones, he didn’t move and he wasn’t sure why. It was easier to sink than it was to swim, he supposed.
The fire was nice… in a way. At least he had that going for him, but the couch in front of the fire that was a few feet in front of his bed was empty.
He was thinking a bit too hard about that when he heard what he’d been hoping to hear for hours.
-Austin.
His gaze jerked to the wall as he repeated her. -Austin… and he darted to it, putting his fingertips up, and finding tears on his face as he grinned through them. -Darling… oh, Marielle, please talk to me. I’ve needed to talk to you all night.
He pressed his cheek against the cool wall, and left his palm against it, trying to feel her in any way.
Then he did feel her… because her fingers were lacing with his as she came into his room through the wall. “Then why didn’t you?” she whispered, looking up into his desperate, sad blue eyes.
The sight and feel of her sent him reeling. She had hair again… she was so lovely. His eyes rolled back in his head a little. “Oh,” he groaned, and he pressed her back against the wall with the full weight of his body, holding her like a drowning man holds a life ring. His desperation wanted him to give in to every urge that was pulsating through his veins… pin her wrists, lean more deeply into her, press his mouth to hers, push his tongue in, bite her neck and shoulder… grind. He battled all of them with fierce resistance and let out a ragged breath.
She held him for a moment, taking in her favorite smell in the world; the forest, ice. Everything in her world was shaky…this… this was familiar. This scent grounded her. “Sasha’s dead,” she whispered into his chest as her eyes filled with tears.
He pet her head, “I know,” he whispered, brokenly.
She let him go, and walked around him to stand in the middle of the room, taking it in. Her eyes moved around, and to the fireplace where she smiled a little. She remembered his offer from the other night to come sit in front of it where they could talk, whisper, and kiss. -Talk to me like this, we’re too close to Vincent.
He was taking her in, from behind. Her bare legs and feet. She was wearing a light gray, long sleeved shirt with three little buttons at her collarbone. It was elongated on her and working as a night dress; she was wearing little else and he was trying to force his mind to interpret this as her being comfortable with him, not seductive. She wasn’t in a negligée or anything, after all. -Is he going to know that you left?
-He took a sleeping pill…he’s out cold. She turned and looked at him. His eyes were red, dark circles contrasting hauntingly with his paler than normal skin, and whatever life always danced behind his blues was significantly diminished by anxiety, worry, doubt, and grief. She wasn’t sure why, but he hadn’t dressed for sleep. He looked like he was two minutes from leaving for somewhere; black jeans, and his teal button up. -I couldn’t sleep.
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. -I can’t either.
She glanced around the room, spotting the beer and went to it, picking it up, then spotted the two other brown bottles on the ground next to his bed. -Austin… she whispered, deep concern in her tone.
He remained completely incapable of stopping himself from repeating her. -Austin.
She gestured to the bottles, her eyes pleading, -Please don’t do this.
-I’m drowning, Marielle. I don’t know what to do other than pick what to drown in.
She set the bottle down and went to the empty couch, sitting demurely, reserved. He followed, but took a blanket from the bed, first. When he sat next to her, he kept his distance so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable or run back to Vincent immediately, but he handed her the blanket so she could cover herself if she felt exposed or cold.
He leaned his temple on his knuckles as he took her in. She was adorable with her short hair; something about it reminded him of himself, and that made him smile a little. Why did she have to be so damn beautiful? He was just a man…wanting to sit at her feet as she put the blanket around her shoulders, and buried herself in it… she was so small. She threaded her fingers through her bare toes and held her feet. He thought it was cute; she looked like a child as she put her chin to her knees; vulnerable, trusting. He fought to not betray that trust tonight.
-What do you want to talk about, darling?
-I don’t know… she shrugged a shoulder, -anything.
He breathed out and glanced down. -Is there anything that you want to do?
She lifted her hands and dropped them both against her thighs, not looking at him anymore. He knew how much she was hurting; he was starting to feel it spread across his own chest.
A deep silence past between them for a few moments as the fire crackled and the gold danced off her face. -I love you, Marielle.
-I know, Austin. She sounded a bit disingenuous in her tone.
-You don’t believe me… he realized.
She sighed. -I believe that you think that you love me.
He swallowed and looked down at her little feet again. Something about the way that she was holding them made him chuckle inwardly. He wasn’t a foot person, but it was just so darn endearing. -But you don’t believe that I really do…
-I know that you have been desperate for me to come in here all day, and I know that the reason is because you want to take me to that bed. She gestured to it with her head, but then put her cheek back to her knee as she watched the fire. -And I know that since I came in here, your thoughts have been about restraint. Not care, or concern, or friendship, or love… restraint.
-You’re right. He realized, drumming his bottom lip for a moment. -Understand something about me. I never understood it until, hell, I don’t know, maybe even a few hours ago, but part of dealing with my anxiety and hopelessness has been to fill it sexually.
She glanced at him. -You’re trying to calm your own storm.
-Yes. But, Marielle, wanting to make love to you is part of loving you… you cannot separate the two. If I didn’t want to make love to you then I’d be nothing but your best friend.
She paused, considering his words. -I guess that I agree… but, it’s difficult to be around you when your desirous thoughts are so loud.
-I’m sorry. I’ll try to be good. She chuckled at him, silently. There was that little boy again… I’ll be good, I’ll behave. He spoke again. -It doesn’t really matter, does it? He said with a sad sigh. -I mean, I’m in love with you, but you don’t love me. Loving me isn’t even in your thoughts. Or you have it so buried inside of yourself that you simply can’t find it.
She blinked a few times, exhausted. He stretched a hand out towards her, and spread his fingers, waiting for her to meet it. She saw him do it out of the corner of her eye, and after a brief pause, she laced their fingers together and they squeezed.
-Why do you think that you’re in love with me, Austin? What is love to you? You’ve never experienced it or had it, so how can you know that you love me?
-All I know, Marielle is that I never want to be apart from you ever again… if that’s not a basic definition of love then I don’t know what is. We could sit here all night and throw around ideas about what love is; we could crack open books, ancient teachings, all the old wise guys, look up quotes, the bible, whatever… I saw someone that I thought was perfect, so my lust turned to love. Then I saw that you were imperfect…and it only fueled my love and desire more. She rocked back and forth a little, trying to digest his words. -You told me in Kingdom that you didn’t want to be apart from me. Nothing has ever meant more to me than those words, Marielle. You said – you said, what did you say? He screwed his eyes up for a moment, thinking, -I don’t want to be without you. We have to get out together. We have to be together. I don’t want to be without you.
-And I don’t… She cut him off. -But the truth is… you’re leaving at the end of the year.
-No…no, don’t even think it right now. I don’t even want to think about it. We still have a little over two months until the twenty ninth of December, we… we’ll work something out.
-What, Austin? We’ll work what out?
He fell silent. -Just come with me.
She sighed. -Because you’re in love with me?
-You love me, too.
-Oh? You think you know me so well?
-I think I can read you so well.
She shook, squeezing her hands into fists. -Dammit, Austin, do you understand how difficult this is? She demanded.
-No… tell me, darling.
-I’m so ridiculously attached to you! I told you the other night – before Kingdom – this is an impossible situation. How am I supposed to be with anyone else after this? How? You tell me, how? I can hear your thoughts. You can hear mine. I can… be inside of you!
He looked down, nodding… understanding. -We’re trauma bonded; you know? Kingdom did things to us…we responded. We had to in order to survive.
-Listen to me… she looked deeply, fiercely into his eyes causing him to focus on her words. -This existed before Kingdom… before the spike, and the fighting, and the running. This… she lifted her hand and squeezed his again, the word reminding him of the Queen of Hearts card that he no longer possessed. -How can I break away from this? I can’t… the only way is if you are halfway across the world and I forget about you.
He shook his head. -No. Just come with me. He pleaded, then paused, -And if you won’t come with me, then… then wait for me. I’ll be back, I don’t know when, but I will be.
She scoffed. -Wait for you? Are you going to be waiting for me? Can you honestly tell me that during that time away from me that you’re going to be clean? You won’t have some girl back at your hotel room? That you won’t be in whore houses?
He caged his face with his fingertips, -Oh, what the fuck, Marielle? I promised you that I wouldn’t… He pulled his hand away, gesturing at the air.
She looked down, disbelieving. -There are still loopholes that you’d find. I know you too well at this point.
He was digging his fingertips under his eyebrow, trying to rub away the tension. -And you’re screwing Vincent. He said, darkly.
She glared at him. He let out an exasperated sigh. -I’m…with…Vincent, Austin.
He leaned in towards her, -But right now? He began meeting her darkness, -you’re with me. Silence. -Have you ever considered… that maybe, just maybe this is all destiny? Fate? That you’re always going to be mine? Maybe it doesn’t matter what Vincent has to say about it… maybe you’re always mine. He said we were married in other dimensions, too.
She swallowed hard, and met his gaze again, intensely. -I’ve considered it, yes… Considered.
-But you still don’t believe that I love you…
-Maybe it’s the be faithful part that I’m having a difficult time with. You know, your traumatic childhood has more hooks in you than you want it to. He glowered at her, demanding her to stop this part of the conversation with his gaze. He did not want to go there right now. She narrowed her eyes at him, then lifted an eyebrow. His eyes had wandered from hers. -What happens when I’m old and fat?
He smiled at her adoringly. -I don’t think that you could ever get to a point where something like that disgusted me out of our relationship. You’d have to be pretty fat for that, and you’re not that kind of person. Both chuckled, he was right. If she gained weight, she’d just work to lose it again. -Also, not to be totally vulgar, but I’ve been with fat chicks, before. It’s not exactly the bad time that everyone acts like it is. She rolled her eyes at him, and looked back to the flames, evading his intense gaze. -Sorry, just the truth. She sighed and looked around for something to eat or drink as the realization occurred to her that she was hungry; she hadn’t thought about food for hours. -And as far as old goes… well, I guess we’re just both going to get old, aren’t we? She nodded, but was distracted by the pangs forming in her stomach. -Can we … please… he begged, -stop fighting? I don’t want to fight with you, Marielle. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and play with you, and sing with you and…and dance with you.
She put her head back onto her knee and watched the fire again. -I don’t want to fight with you either, Austin.
It was now that she realized that she hadn’t felt hunger until she was with him. Gosh, she was so attached to him now, wasn’t she…? Hunger opened a hole in his stomach as well. There was no escaping this. –Hungry?
-For you. She shook her head. That one had been on purpose; she was repeating their conversation from a few nights ago.
He cocked his head at her, a serious expression crossing his face. -Don’t tell me to behave and then play with me like that, Marielle. She took in a deep pull of air, knowing that he was right. He leaned in a little, his gaze intense and ravenous; whispering clear, steady words out loud. “Because I… am starving…and if you keep tempting me, I will want to feed.” She forced herself to breathe and swallow. -I can hear your heartbeat speed up, and see your breathing deepen. I’m naturally cold, I can sense your heat… I know what I do to you. This is hard enough as it is… please don’t tease me like that if you don’t want it. Because if you do, you know that I’m one hundred percent willing to comply. Warmth was spreading down her body as she tried to hide her trembling. He’d gotten a little closer to her, and was staring at her mouth.
-I think that you know that I want it, Austin… I’m just not going to let you have it.
Silence past between them. -Then can I kiss you again? She quickly shook her head. -So, I can only kiss you if I’m about to die… got it. No wonder the gun looked tempting earlier.
Her eyes widened in terror and he cursed himself internally for that slip. -Austin… please tell me that you didn’t put that gun to your head? She eyed his arm.
He looked into his open palm for a moment, then closed it. -I did, Marielle, and I truly considered pulling the trigger.
Her eyes welled. -Why?
-Oh, why do you think? He snapped. -You know why. Don’t make me relive the whole thing. He instinctively went to put his hair behind his ears… it wasn’t there. He dropped his hands.
She came a little closer to him; closing more of the gap between them. -Explain it to me, Austin. I don’t want to make you relive anything… but if you’re contemplating taking your own life, then I want to know why.
He paused. -I don’t think I was going to really do it. I- I mean obviously I didn’t do it. I’m sorry that I let that slip, it sounds like I’m trying to manipulate your feelings, now. I’m not, I swear.
-I know.
-I’ve done stuff like that before but… never with a woman and never with a woman that I loved. You can debate me about how I love you; I still love you. Even if you only think it’s as a best friend… I love you. And we were in there together, and… I just had to keep putting you first, and I wanted to, don’t get me wrong, but- I lost myself a little bit, and then when Barbara… His breath snagged. -said that you were just going to keep choosing Vincent, and that I was nothing. I tried not to let it sink in, but it did, Marielle. It did, and… He was starting to lose it. -And there was so much blood…and uh… She scooted over closer to him so that their bodies were touching, and turned so that her back was facing him. Then she leaned against his chest, while still wrapped in the blanket. Exhaling, he rested his forehead to her shoulder. She could feel him trembling. “I don’t…want to lose you.”
“Give me your hand,” she commanded. He did so, promptly. She reached inside of him, found his heartbeat – pounding strong and beginning to strangle his chest – and for a moment, both of their heartbeats aligned and hers shot up with his… then she slowly guided both of them back down. She stayed there, both wrapped in the singular lub dubs that displayed no distinction between them. Ta dum… ta dum… ta dum… ta dum…
–You are, aren’t you? Just going to keep on choosing Vincent. She swallowed hard. –You just cannot allow yourself to open up to me.
–Austin, I am more open to you than anyone on this planet.
-But you keep part of yourself – that part that could dream for us – closed off. Your heart is Vincent’s… mine is yours.
He wrapped his arm around her from behind, pulling her ever closer to him and they stayed that way, with one hand locked together, feeling their steady heartbeats, and her nestled against him, and watched the flames.
-I can’t believe that you kept that card.
-It’s kept me going at times, reminded me of promises that I made… it was my hope. Now it’s gone.
She shook her head and sighed. He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to read her thoughts, but he couldn’t. Then she spoke clearly again. -I’m sorry, Austin. You don’t need a card for hope.
-All this is… right now… is an affair. You said that yourself. She sighed, heavily at his words. -And I don’t want to stop it, darling. I enjoy your particular brand of torture far too much.
Again they fell silent and watched the fire, both momentarily trading thoughts about how beautiful it was, how they wished that things were different and they were back at Valorant.
-Do we have anything to eat? She eventually asked.
Austin dared a tender kiss against the exposed part of her shoulder, then a gentle bite; which sent her head spinning, reminding her of that night. How she’d wanted to feel his teeth again since then. Both of their heartbeats elevated, but stayed in rhythm and perfect sync. She squirmed just a little before stopping herself. -I’ll just devour your words, and feed off your heartbeat. Ta dum, ta dum, ta dum, ta dum… -Oh, Marielle, just run away with me. Just leave it all behind. Let’s just disappear, right now… we could do it, darling. Barbara’s dead. They haven’t heard back from me. I’ll be dead, too. They’ll never know. He threaded his fingers through her short hair, feeling its softness, feeling their heartbeats pound as one thing. -Oh, God, I want you to love me so badly…
She shook her head, slowly. -I can’t do that right now and you know that… any of it.
His chest rose and fell. -I know.
-Damn you for being so romantic. She mocked, reminding him of that night at his house when she first phased through him.
He smirked -Falling into dancing flames. He whispered as both stared into the fire. It was slowly eating away at a log the way that he felt like she was slowly eating away at him, and how he slowly wanted to eat away at her. -I want to fall into those flames with you right now and just let them eat us alive, Marielle. She closed her eyes, but maintained her control. -I told you that I’d take you to that room. Do you still want to go? She nodded. -Then I’ll take you. Whenever you want. Ta dum… ta dum… -How’s your back?
-I don’t feel it anymore.
-You will, once he puts those things in.
-I don’t care, I need it more than ever, now.
-And I need chocolate ice cream… with butterscotch syrup. He whispered.
She hummed. -Sounds so good. Do you think they have any such thing? He shook his head. -We’re really stuck, aren’t we? We have to go downstairs if we want food, and nothing is open at this hour.
He rubbed his temple against hers. -I’ll go get us something.
He let go of her hand, and they lost connection, which stung him emotionally. He got up, and quietly exited the room, leaving her alone with the fire. She stared at it dreamily for a few minutes.
When he returned, he had a loaded plate in his hand, and he smiled as he sat with her. The plate held seven or eight slices of cheese, some cured meats, and a pastry that looked like it was probably left over from breakfast. He also had a little glass bottle of milk in his left hand.
He sat on the floor in front of the couch, stretching his legs out in front of the fire, and crossing them at the ankle. She came off the couch and sat with him, crossing her legs under her, Indian style.
-It was all I could find in the kitchen.
-It’s fine, I’m just starving.
He took a swig off the milk, and gave it to her, she did the same. They talked for a while about what the different cheeses were that were on the plate and what he thought that the meats were as well. He explained that the pastry looked like Bomboloni, and what was inside… this one was probably Nutella. They enjoyed its sweetness even though it wasn’t fresh.
The meagre meal was enough.
–I’ve never had an Italian picnic at two in the morning with a beautiful woman on the floor in front of a fire. He continued his list of nevers. She flushed and glanced down, taking the last little bit of filling left on the plate onto the tip of her pointer finger and began it towards her mouth. Then she stopped and reached over, gently smearing it across his lips. He froze, anticipating… and she leaned in and gave him a tender, shy kiss, taking the chocolate with her lips. She watched his chest rise high, and fall low, and sensed the excitement that was pouring into him.
She took his cheeks between her hands, and stared deeply into his eyes… a sight that he wasn’t used to, nor did he think he’d ever grow tired of- her eyes, her face near his, her perfect mouth lingering. “Thank you for everything that you did in Kingdom and for taking care of me, and saving me. I will never forget what you did and how brave, and strong, and perfect you were,” she said making it clear that this was a thank you kiss; payment. Yes, she’d meant it to be sexy, but that was where it stopped. She ran her fingers over his shaved head, scratching his scalp as she did so, then brought her hand back to the side of his face. “You are invaluable and priceless to me and I want you- I need you to stay,” she breathed, relating back to his possible suicidal ideations. His eyes welled, and he nodded his understanding. He glanced at her lips, biting the bottom one of his own and she was noting how close they were… just inches from him. –No more. She whispered.
“Okay,” he sighed, disappointedly; drunk off her mouth. He tucked his bottom lip in, taking off the rest of what she’d left behind. -I’ve never had a woman kiss chocolate off my lips before. She was bright red and couldn’t meet his eyes. -I like your hair, by the way. He lay on his side, folding his arms and putting his feet near the fireplace.
She smiled at him, “thank you,” she whispered. Then she gestured with her head down the hall, “Kirra can help you as well.”
“She already offered,” he said quickly. “I turned her down.” Marielle cocked her head at him, inquisitively. “I need to spend five minutes not being the most attractive person in the room.” He paused, eating the final piece of cheese. “Besides I didn’t want to try and control myself if she came into my room for more than thirty seconds,” he whispered under his breath.
A laugh came through her nose that she covered with the back of her hand. “You- you think that you’re attractive because of your hair?” She asked, taking in another bite of the creamy white cheese that she’d been holding.
“It’s a big part of the general attraction, yes,” he laughed, knowingly.
She beamed at him; he was so clueless. “You’re still the most attractive person in the room, Austin.” She chuckled.
He titled his head at her, staring hard, and with a deadly serious tone, he said, “No, I’m not.”
He sat up and put his back to the couch, putting the now empty plate up onto it, then gesturing for her to come to him. She did, leaning into the crook of his arm, which he wrapped around her and the stared at the flames as he dug something out of his teeth with his tongue. -I’ll take this over any other activity right now. He glanced down at her. -How about you?
She nodded. -Yes, yes this. She agreed feeling the warmth of his body, and the warmth of the fire make her feel comfortable, at peace…at home. -Oh, God.
-What? He flicked his gaze to her. -Did I hurt you? He asked, alarmed.
-No… She refused to think anything else, relating. She was silent for a few moments. -I almost have the strength to go back.
He took in a deep breath and let it out again, slowly. He didn’t want her to leave, but he wasn’t going to beg her to stay. She knew how much he wanted her to, and he knew that. No begging required. She was there, he was going to choose to enjoy the final minutes without pleas and whispers of desperation. -I’ve been wondering something…
She’d absentmindedly put her fingertips to his chest, and they’d found the patch of dark hair poking through that area where he always left his shirt unbuttoned. He drew air in at her touch and realizing what she was doing, she took her hand away. -What? What have you been wondering?
-How did you go through me twice in Kingdom? You shouldn’t be able to do that…
She shook her head, -I don’t know.
It became deadly silent, except the crackling… –Euphoria, huh?
She paused, a soft smile moving across her lips. -Yes. It was a breathy whisper.
He bit his bottom lip, excitedly. -Want to do it now? He joked.
They both chuckled, abashedly. -No. She replied, quickly.
He nodded, pressing his temple to hers from the side, his free hand was moving up and down her left arm, warming her. -That’s fine. I said there isn’t any other activity that I would rather do… He paused, breathing deeply. He’d promised himself when it was being forced on them in Kingdom that he would kill this part of himself. So, he exhaled and went on. -I will not force you to do that to me ever again, ok? She was searching his eyes, trying to read his soul. – I might ask for it, but I will not force it. I can’t look at your ability anymore like– because I’m the only person that you can do it with- that that means that it’s for me, like it’s some God ordained thing that it’s meant to be mine or something… It’s not mine. It’s yours. He ran his fingertips tenderly through her hair, and behind the curve of her ear as he spoke. Then he did it again, and again, sighing dreamily. -Like your love, and your body, and your sex; you will give them to me when you decide… if you decide… She swallowed hard, he really meant this, and it was making her mind go numb. -From now on, you give that to me when you want to and only then, and I’ll take it and give back to you if you allow me… He was tucking his bottom lip in as he messed with her hair, and gently ran his pointer and middle finger down her cheek and under her chin. –It’s a gift. Okay? The same way that you’ll give me your love, and the same way that you’ll give me your body… when you want to. If you want to. Neither are mine… I don’t own you. I’ll never demand it or use it against you again. He paused, giving her a soft, sad smile. -I promise.
Their foreheads were pressed together, now. Her breath hitched in her chest, “Austin…” she breathed.
“Austin…” he repeated. Then he pulled back a little and looked at her with a soft, loving smile. “Marielle…” he breathed.
She continued to search his eyes, and his face. He was being so honest that it terrified her. Her lips parted. “Marielle…” she repeated him.