CONTAINS CONTENT:
Brief strong language, sensual situations, brief violence / threat / SA.
{{Unedited}}
When Marielle opened her eyes, the first thing that she remembered was that she was alone; well, except for Felix who was giving himself a proper bath at the end of the bed.
Glancing at the clock, she realized that she still had half an hour before she even needed to move, which she always loved because it meant more time to snuggle down into the warm blankets.
Trying to fall asleep had been difficult.
When she’d hung up with Austin, she sat in the tub for several long minutes fantasizing about him. “Yes, come over, darling. Come join me…” she imagined him coming into the bathroom, and slipping down into the tub with her, only to pull her over his body and hold her against him before they both sank into passionate love making.
Ugh. She buried herself under the blankets, making it dark again.
Maybe plunging herself into blackness would draw the red color from her cheeks. Nope, she could still feel them getting hotter as she imagined finding him under the covers with her.
His hands, oh, his beautiful hands reaching out for her in the darkness… finding her face, her neck, her breasts. His hitched breath, begging for more. She put her forehead to his, and pressed her body against him, drawing him ever closer, and closer, until she pushed her way through him and hid inside his pounding, stormy body. “We can’t do this,” she whispered.
“I know,” he breathed back, not really there, but clear as day in her mind.
“I can’t keep living this way, Austin. I can’t keep giving into you in one corner of my life, and trying to live with Vincent in another. It’s true that I’ve made no commitment to Vincent, and he knows that, and it’s one of the only reasons that I’ve kept this charade going… but… but…” his mouth was on her collarbone… in the darkness; his gentle bites keeping her from forming words, and preventing her sanity. “Austin.” she breathed.
“Austin,” he repeated between his teeth sinking in.
She ached with need, and reached for her phone.
She was amazed how quickly he answered, as if he was always just waiting for her to dial him up. “Are you calling me first thing in the morning, now, darling?”
“I just… miss you.” She fumbled for a moment, “I wanted to know how you were doing from yesterday morning.” Silence. “I wanted to hear your voice,” she admitted.
“Ah ha, now we get down to it,” he chuckled, softly. He was pouring coffee; she could hear it. She also heard when he took a swallow. “I was out last night. I had the chance to be with a woman,” he said. She held her breath. “I didn’t take it, Marielle. I wanted to, but I shut it down. She was exactly my type but-” She breathed out. “Are you still in bed?” he asked.
“Mmmm, mhmmmm,” she hummed, enjoying the warmth of the sheets.
“So, did you dream about me?” She bit her lip, and her face scrunched up abashedly. “I told you to,” he whispered.
“Did you? I don’t remember.” She sat up, clutching the sheets close. She’d never put pajamas on and had slipped straight from the bath, to drying, to bed; no clothing.
“In Italian,” he explained.
“Oh,” she replied, yawning. Then she slapped back against the mattress.
“So did you?”
“I’m not going to answer that right now,” she said with a laugh.
“I honestly just want to see you,” he replied. He took a bite of something. Sounded like dry toast. “When can you be here?”
“Well, I’ll have to get dressed first,” she said reflexively, then she covered her face realizing what she’d just implied.
“Are you… you’re not wearing anything, are you?” he asked tauntingly.
“Just a smile,” she replied.
“Oh, damn,” he sighed. “Please don’t torment me anymore,” he cleared his throat and put on a pompous nobleman voice. “Fair maiden, torment me no further. I wish to ravage you the way that a-” she was laughing, “I don’t know, the way an ape ravishes a banana or something…”
“Oh, that was sexy,” she deadpanned.
“Super sexy, you’ll be sitting on that one for weeks,” she heard him take another swallow.
“You know for someone who has the uh- kind of past that you do? You’re sounding more and more like a teenage boy.”
“You got me,” he chuckled. “I’m actually a virgin, I made it all up.”
“Oh, stop!” She laughed back, half wishing that he weren’t joking, half knowing that she made him feel things that he’d never felt before, so some of his responses to her were real.
“What are you going to have for breakfast?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she scrambled her short hair with her fingertips, “probably some eggs and coffee or something. I have a meeting today? It’s going to be hard… It’s with Mateo, Tala, and a few of the others.” She wretched at the thought of how emotionally taxing this was going to be. “Pray for me,” she said.
He chuckled. “Okay, darling.”
“It’s at noon. I’ll easily be to your house before two o’clock. You’ll be ready?”
“I will.”
***
Marielle looked over her desk at the room. It’d been a long time since she’d had more than one or two people in the space at once, and this was almost comical; everyone at Valorant was stuffed into the tiny space. Scratch the almost part, it was comical. She chuckled a little to herself looking each of them over.
Tala and Mateo were sitting side by side on the couch, but Mateo’s body language said that he wasn’t having any part of this. Liam was trying to fit onto a chair that seemed too small for his burly body. Jamie, Han, and Hazal were leaning on the bookshelves to the right of Marielle, John and Sabine were practically on top of one another in chairs in front of the door. Amir and Varun had taken residence on the left of the couch, and were merely leaning on the wall. Tayane and Klara were pressed against the bookshelves to Marielle’s left, and they were definitely more distracted by one another than anyone else in the room. Zayana managed to look like she wasn’t squished in on anyone at all by sitting on the end of Marielle’s desk with her arms crossed – Marielle wasn’t going to ask her to move. Efia was hovering over Marielle’s left shoulder, her hood over her face. Erik and Kiritani were smashed against the bookshelves on the left, Wei Ling practically vanished between the two, and Kirra was standing at Marielle’s right side.
Marielle cleared her throat, eyeing the standing room only situation. “Okay, well I hope that no one is claustrophobic… Maybe I should start with that… is – is anyone claustrophobic?” she asked, feeling pretty claustrophobic herself as she aired out her collar a little.
Everyone in the room’s hand shot up; except Efia… she didn’t say anything or move except to float in her trance. Marielle’s face hit her desk with a thud.
“Where’s that handsome doctor?” Zayana whispered down at the back of her head.
Marielle lifted a finger, but nothing else. “That handsome doctor is flying out of here tonight,” her muffled voice replied from the desk.
“Pity,” she replied, and muttered something in Spanish that Marielle didn’t understand.
Marielle lifted her head groggily and rubbed the tip of her nose. “Okay, let’s start with the obvious,” she said flipping over a paper from the right to the left stack. “This is difficult, not ideal, and confusing for everyone here.” She gestured to Tala, “I want her to feel like she’s safe. She has felt like a burden ever since Chamber brought her back here, and like everyone hates her because she’s from the other side.”
“We don’t think that,” Klara voiced.
“Man!” Mateo barked, shooting her a glare. “Don’t speak for us.”
Tala’s eyes watered, and she looked down, twisting her fingers together, nervously. A masked Amir, put his gloved hand on Tala’s right shoulder, and gently squeezed, reminding her that not everyone felt this way. Marielle swallowed, “Okay… Mateo, you’re obviously not handling this well.”
Mateo scratched his fish tattoos and gestured outward with his hand, nearly decapitating Liam with it. “How would you feel?”
Marielle swallowed and looked down, refraining from reminding him that she did know what this was like. Maybe he didn’t see it that way. “Explain it to us so that we can understand better,” Marielle said, gently as she noted his body language, Tala’s and then subtly took note of everyone else in the room’s.
Mateo had crossed his arms over his chest. “I feel like- Man… Shit…” Wingman, who had been hiding partially behind him, climbed up his back and sat on his shoulder where he proceeded to take his little paws and gently punch Mateo in the face a few times. Apparently, this little gesture meant something to him. Mateo looked down at his orb where Dizzy lived and rubbed it. Marielle had seen him do this many times when he was uncomfortable. She took this to mean that he was reminding himself that he wasn’t alone. Dizzy was in there, and she could feel his discomfort.
“It’s all good, bro,” Jamie said, backing him.
“Yeah, you have our support,” Erik added.
Zayana gave him a strong nod, locking eyes with him and giving him a soft smile. Their closeness had always been evident to everyone who knew them. How they knew one another and what they were – short of having a sibling kind type of relationship – was not too keenly known, but they definitely loved each other in one way or another. “Whatever, like yo… Aight? It’s like everyone expects something from me including-” he dropped his voice down, realizing that he was coming off as frightening and loud. “Including to you,” he said calmly, looking at the Tala double for the first time. “I don’t know you.”
Tala shrugged, “That’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t know you, either,” she explained, her eyes beaming with childlike innocence.
Marielle instantly saw the war within him and she watched him gently bite his lip, and release it from between his teeth, as well as the flash of hatred in his eyes. This was going to be difficult. In that moment, he identified with her, and wanted to kiss her. His senses betrayed his instinct as he realized that she was not his Tala, and then again as he realized that it didn’t matter, he had compassion on her and confusing feelings were starting to surface.
He looked away, trying to hide the welling in his eyes.
Marielle tried to focus on the room, but her mind suddenly mixed with her own thoughts and feelings about this scenario and how Tala was Vincent, and she was Mateo… except that she had fallen for Vincent, and Mateo – because he’d lost Tala here, in this world – was reluctant and distrusting.
“No one is telling you or asking you to feel any specific way,” Marielle explained. “We’re not even suggesting it,” she added when Mateo looked up at her. Zayana nodded her agreement with Marielle, and she whispered something in Spanish to Mateo. He whispered something back under his breath, also in Spanish.
Liam was rocking a bit.
“Can I make an odd suggestion?” Mateo sighed and looked at Marielle, waiting for her to finish. “I think that you two are going to have the most difficult time with this situation, besides her father, Nathaniel, obviously.” Nathaniel was not in the room. He had chosen to wait in the library, and was processing. Marielle offered to speak with him at any time. He’d merely thanked her, and nothing more. Marielle glanced at her wall clock, she still had time. She patted her left coat pocket. Yes, the secret items were still there. “I don’t know exactly how everyone else feels about this, and I know that most of us are deeply grieving Sasha, so nothing feels right. But I think that the two of you should spend some time together,” Marielle raised a hand to stop any protests. “I don’t mean like you’re dating, or trying to- just to talk. Just to try and understand one another’s feelings and emotions,” she explained. Mateo and Tala looked at one another. “This is an impossible situation,” she felt like she’d said that fifty times in the last two months, “and no one expects anyone to feel like Tala is a replacement for who we’ve lost. She’s not. But she is a person, she is a human being, and she deserves our respect, and a chance at fitting in, here.”
Everyone nodded or hummed their agreements.
“Play a game together,” she nodded at Jamie, “Jamie can you join them for some video games?”
“Yo, you know that I’m always up for a little action!” Jamie replied, tipping his sunglasses down a bit to look at her.
Mateo and Tala exchanged looks and Marielle saw something almost…hopeful?
“It’s settled? You two spend a bit of time just talking?” Marielle pressed gently. Tala squinted at him from the corner of her eye, and lifted her left cheek a little as she pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulder.
“Yeah, I think we can do that,” Mateo replied with a small sigh.
The room nodded. “Okay, good,” Marielle said with a sigh of relief. “I think the most important thing to remember here is this – we are not trying to replace Tala. There is no replacement for someone that we’ve lost who is so dear… but we are trying to help this Tala to the best of our abilities. That needs to be made clear,” she explained. Everyone nodded, or agreed. “Now…” She looked tenderly to each face, “Who wants to talk about how they’re dealing with Sasha’s death?”
Every hand shot up.
Again, Marielle’s head smacked her desk.
***
Marielle pulled up to Austin’s house and practically skidded to a stop as she got out, skipped up the steps to his house, and knocked on the door. He answered like he’d been standing there waiting for her, and the moment they saw one another, they fell into each other’s arms.
He pulled her in only long enough to shut the door and lean her against it. “Darling,” he breathed against her forehead.
“Hey,” she whispered.
He squeezed her tightly again, and a little sound escaped from between his lips. She was taken with it for a moment. He pulled back just enough to smile down at her. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m okay, how are you? Are you nervous?”
“No, I’m just finishing packing,” he explained glancing at his watch. “Would you like some water, or anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He wandered to the bedroom and she followed him, sitting on his bed and watching him as he finished putting things into the black suitcase that was butterflied on the end of the mattress.
He wound a belt around his fingers, and slipped it into the zipper pouch on the outside.
“What are they going to do to you?” Marielle asked, her tone concerned.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll retain every gory detail of the last two months,” he said with a sigh. Then he gagged as if he didn’t actually like the idea of that. She smirked at him, and gave him a silent chuckle. “Basically, I can’t tell you exactly what they’re going to do, but it’s something like this-,” he continued to move around the room putting things into the bag. “For the first twelve hours I go through a series of recalls, and I repeat a bunch of crap that they say that means a lot of nothing to me, they hook me up to a machine and monitor how I’m reacting to all of it, and then they run some tests.” He was folding a shirt, and put it neatly into his bag, “And ask me a bunch of personal questions, in which they find out things I don’t want anybody to know, and they try and sift through all of that as well.” He went to his closet and took another shirt down, folding it, and setting it next to the first. “Then they put me to sleep for eight hours and monitor me while they force me to dream a certain way. Once I wake up, they hook me up to this electrical machine, and do some shocks on me and see how well I am overcoming the problem.” He was putting some socks into the netting of his suitcase. She looked horrified. He grinned, and gently touched her cheek, “Oh, no… it’s not like that. It’s not like electric shock therapy or anything. It’s like conditioning… Like this,” he said, and he took his hand away and gently flicked her check with his middle finger, “You love me,” he said flatly, then he leaned in and glared at her playfully as he narrowed his eyes as if to ask if what he’d just done had worked. She mimicked his expression, and after a moment they both burst out laughing. “Was worth a shot,” he said dismissively, taking a manilla envelope off his desk and putting it on the top of the folded clothes. “Side note, though,” he whispered, head in his closet, “If you ever do love me-”
She chuckled, “I know, I know wear red.”
“Anywhere,” he breathed, grabbing a pair of shoes, perhaps praying that she hadn’t actually heard him.
She had.
He came back to the bed and put the shoes in on top of everything, then paused, giving it a quick glance over with his hand to his chin.
“Hey,” she pressed. He turned to her, his gaze telling her that the fact that she was sitting there on his bed, looking small and vulnerable made him hungry. “How long are you going on?” She asked, curiously.
He gave her a soft smile, “You know everything,” he replied concretely.
“I do?” She pushed.
He smirked and crossed his arms. “Everything.”
“You’re not like… taking some time in the shower, or…”
“Hey, now that’s personal,” he replied with reddening cheeks.
She bit her bottom lip, understanding, and not condemning. “No porn?”
“Not since that one moment in Venice.” True.
“No prostitutes?”
“No.” True.
“No paying the waiters in your favorite restaurants?”
He smiled. “No,” he whispered. True.
“No surrogates?”
“None.”
“Why?” She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him a little. “What changed? You couldn’t stop yourself…” She reminded.
He swallowed, and looked down, “Everything?” He explained. Then he glanced at her, looking in her eyes, “there’s something that I want more, and it’s worth it.”
She tried to steady her heart, closing her eyes. “Me?”
-You.
-It can’t be. You have to do this for you.
-I don’t care anymore. I’d rather be a good man for something that I can’t have, than a bad one and ruin everything and anything that might ever come my way again.
-But… don’t you understand that we can’t be together?
-Yes. But let me dream, Marielle. Let me have that. Let me break my own heart when the time is right for me. I’ve never dreamt before, Marielle. I’ve only ever gotten what I wanted. Let me dream. I want to dream.
A silent tear was strolling down the side of his face. She sat up on her knees and dared to reach up and thumb it away. He clasped her hand there, keeping her for just a moment. “I want you to listen to me for a moment,” he said taking her hand in both of his and squeezing. “I’ve spent the last three months regretting a single decision that I made. I was meant to be there- at Valorant three days before I was. Do you know why I wasn’t?” he asked. She shook her head at him, entranced as she watched his blue eyes. “I purposefully missed the flight. Because I met some girl and we spent the weekend together in my hotel room,” he confessed. She looked away, angry. He tilted her chin back to look at him and shook his head side to side, hating himself. “If I had been there before you met Vincent… you’d be with me.” She sighed and started to open her mouth to protest, “no, wait- listen to me,” he paused. “But I’ve been thinking about things that I know, and you know, and things Vincent said… and things that Vincent and Chamber did… to me, for me… I believe in fate, Marielle. If I had come to Valorant early, I would have seduced you; you were ready for romance. I would have given it to you, and walked away, breaking your heart in the process, and I would have continued down my own dark road that may have led somewhere much worse.” He forced a tearful smile. “Now look at me.” He bit back more tears, “I’m in love… I’m breaking away from my addiction step by step. I didn’t kill anyone today because I was a twisted lunatic.” She chuckled silently as her eyes rimmed with tears as well. “If that is what it took… I’m grateful.” He put his forehead to hers, “I’ll dream for us,” he whispered into her palm as she thumbed away more tears. “And it’s enough.”
He pulled away and went to his suitcase, zipping it up. Then he turned back to her. “We gotta go,” he said, dismissing what had just happened, and gesturing to his watch with his head. Then he picked up the suitcase and the two of them went to her car. He tossed his suitcase in the back, and got into the passenger’s side, letting her drive him to LAX.
The entire way there, she tried to control her heart and her breathing, knowing fully well that something was burning a hole in her left pocket. Two things, really… and when they passed one street, then another, and the next, she found herself debating. Would she use those things before she said goodbye? She was fairly certain that she would…but when? The moment will present itself, she told herself.
“Which moment?” He asked, aloud. She smirked, and glanced at him in the rearview mirror. He shook his head and watched the lights fly by, again. She patted her pocket, checking for the items. They were there. She could feel the weight, the shapes and again she tried to hide a smile. “Guess I’ll find out,” he whispered, curiously.
She had to be careful about her thoughts, now. They were too close in proximity; he was going to be able to hear everything that she thought if he really focused. She turned the radio on, and found a song that they both liked. Both sang together quietly the rest of the ride.
They parked, and she walked in with him, and went with him to TSA where she had to stop. “Okay,” he said, and he put his arms around her, holding her close.
“Fly safe,” she whispered. “Come back to me.”
“Always,” he said, and he pulled back, his hand still on her shoulder, gave her a smile, and went to the line to go through the metal detectors, and multiple searches.
He was steeling glances at her in the line, but the moment he got to the metal detector, he was distracted enough. He’d have to show them papers, and badges, and have a brief conversation about the guns… now or never.
She turned, reaching into her coat pocket and pulled out a compact mirror with a shiny silver case and a tube of lipstick. She popped the mirror open and started applying. What if it didn’t look good? Don’t worry about that right now, Marielle, this is about what it is, not how good it looks. What if he saw her before she finished? Ugh… She took a step to the side and hoped that a partition hid her a little bit, as she hurriedly put it on her lower lip. Then she traced the upper again and filled as quickly as possible, praying that he was actually still there by the time that she finished.
She put the mirror back into her pocket and stepped back into what would be his field of vision. One of the agents was finishing with him, and he looked like he was explaining something. Then he slipped back into his shoes, strung his belt back through his belt loops, and grabbed his bag. He wasn’t looking at her.
Now or never, Marielle… now or never. She closed her eyes for a moment, clutching the lipstick to her chest with both hands and took in a deep breath. “Austin, Michael Rancor!” She shouted. Several people stopped and looked at her, but the only person in the world to her was him.
He looked up, and then down again, not registering what he was seeing. Then it hit him, and his gaze found hers. He squinted, and his eyes grew wide with excitement, wonder, and confusion. She’d never seen a look like this on him, ever. What was it? What would she describe it as? He looked like a child who’d just been given the one and only thing that he’d been asking for for Christmas. He was confused, delighted, and in awe. He scratched the back of his head and looked around for a second as if to say, “me?” But instead, he met eyes with her again, and mouthed, “really?” His eyebrow lifting a little.
She nodded and tucked her blood red lips in for a moment, feeling the hot red burning her cheeks now, and she flashed him the tube of lipstick from her hands clasped at her chest. “I love you,” she mouthed the words, making sure that her red lips formed each one unmistakably as tears fell from her eyes.
He stood bewildered for a moment, hands on his hips in childlike wonder at what he was seeing.
Then someone pushed him along, and he nodded at them, clumsily gathering his things off the conveyor belt, but stealing glances at her.
She was grinning at him, and she put her thumb and pinky to her ear, “Call me, when you get there,” she mouthed.
“Okay,” he replied still bewildered, but he couldn’t for one moment hide the thrill in his eyes. It had all hit him now and presently he was beaming like a crazy person. She’d never seen so much innocent joy on his face. He was pushed along, and out of sight, but he watched her until he couldn’t anymore.
The entire ride home she was grinning. Heat filled every pore of her body, and she felt like if she could just stretch her wings out, she could fly. Her heart was pounding, and her fingertips gently grazed her lips over and over again.
That red– that red that said everything that she wanted to, but couldn’t not even in her mind to him was there, staining her lips. The briefest memory of other Austin came to her- because in my world, you fucking loved me… and maybe she did. Maybe the problem was really that she always and forever loved Austin Rancor. Red told the story anyways, all over her mouth, all over her cheeks. Had she not told him that she loved him every single day from the moment she’d met him? Had she not always worn red? She touched her cheeks, realizing now their color. Yes… yes, she had.
Austin – on the other hand – was in another world altogether. Laying his head back against the plane seat and staring at the little lights that said seatbelt on, and no smoking and… whatever they said, he wasn’t reading them. He was grinning like an idiot.
When the incredibly attractive stewardess with the long dark hair asked him if he wanted anything, he hardly noticed her as he said, “No, thank you.” He wasn’t even on the planet anymore, and the plane hadn’t taken flight, yet. All at once, ten years old in his mind; the moment that his first big crush told him that she liked him too and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was forcing himself to take big, deep breaths because if he didn’t, he was going to forget how to breathe.
When the person sat next to him, a balding, rotund gentleman in a charcoal suit and a yellow tie, he was still beaming as he said, “She loves me,” and knew that their “talking” relationship for the duration of the flight was cancelled. He didn’t care. Probably better that way. He was a teenager, again. He could do anything; conquer the world, anything.
He didn’t register the hours of the flight. He hardly remembered getting his suitcase and going through checks. He hardly recalled getting into the van that had come to pick him up, or getting to the hotel that he was spending the night at.
He walked in, threw his coat off, fell back against the bed, and called her.
“Hey,” she breathed.
“You love me,” he said, excitedly.
“I love you,” she replied.
He beamed. “You love me!”
“I love you.”
“Oh my God,” he chuckled. Then he exhaled slowly, “Say it again,” he breathed, his hand over his heart as it pounded.
“I love you, Austin.” She flopped down on her bed.
He grinned, closing his eyes, and stretching his hand behind his head. “One more time?”
She giggled, “I am so in love with you, Austin Rancor.”
He sighed, dreamily. “I can’t even… Marielle,” he whispered. “I love you.” He shook his head, not believing still. “Really?” he asked, excitedly, and he was all little boy when he said these words. Ten or eleven, maybe, finally being told he could have the puppy.
“Yeah. I’m still wearing it,” she replied, her fingers touching her red lips.
She could hear him grinning, “Why? Why?” There was a pause. “This isn’t because you’re mad at Vincent, is it?”
“No.” She thought for a moment, biting her lip. “Well, yes…” He was waiting expectantly, “but mostly- I decided to stop lying to you,” she replied sensuously.
“You know that you never did,” he replied. “I always knew.”
“I know. But I had to lie. You know I had to.”
“I know,” he whispered. “This is enough,” he added. There was a brief silence. “Marielle, my heart’s beating so fast,” he purred, and she could hear him putting his hand to his chest. “I- I can’t believe it,” he giggled. “I could sing… I’m going to sing!” He said, and he did; Unchained Melody.
She couldn’t handle it. “What?” she blushed, “Are you going to sing to me while we’re on the phone?”
“Oh Marielle,” he murmured like she didn’t understand at all. “I’ll sing to you while we make love,” he shot back.
Her heart stopped… literally stopped, and her body went rigid as she imagined it for a moment. Beautiful? Yes. Sexy? As he tried to hold himself together long enough to lullaby her into submission? One hundred percent. She’d never had someone say something that felt so intense to her. “Austin,” was all that she could get out.
“Austin,” he repeated. “Oh, darling, you love me…” He whispered incredulously.
“I do,” she breathed, ignoring a brief flashback to Tundra.
“I could fly.”
There was a long pause, both just breathing. “Okay…” she heaved.
“I’m in love with you, Marielle,” he said, shakily. Or at least, that’s how she perceived it. It was actually odd because it sounded shaky, but it also sounded as steady as ever.
She made a little laugh sound, too. “I know,” she said, her chest heaving.
Then he chuckled ironically as if he couldn’t believe it, himself. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated.
“Why do you sound so shocked?” She asked, turning onto her side.
“Because I didn’t think it could happen. And I’m excited, and I’m terrified, because… I’m pretty sure that there’s something else coming here…” he said seriously. But then he grinned; she could hear him grin wildly through the phone. “This is enough.” There were tears in his tone, “You love me… you love me, and it’s enough. I won’t push you. Because this is enough,” she sniffed, “Don’t cry, love.” He blushed, “Love,” he said with a grin. Then he turned on his side, holding himself around the middle. “Oh, God… love…” he whispered. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m with you.” He sighed, “Right now all I need is that red lipstick.”
“You really do love me, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said excitedly, “and I’m so happy.”
She grinned, and wiped her tears away. “Stay with me?”
“I’m with you.”
“Close your eyes…”
He relaxed, and settled fully against the bed. “Done.”
In her mind’s eye, she leaned in and gently kissed his neck just below the jaw. “Can you feel that?”
He groaned. “Yes.”
“Where?”
“My neck, right side,” he breathed.
“Oh my gosh, yes… you can feel me.”
He was grinning, “I can.”
“Stay with me,” she repeated, gasping excitedly.
“I’m with you,” he replied.
She lifted her hand and imagined tracing her fingers down his chest. She heard him suck air in between his teeth.
“So, what are you, Austin, Rancor?” She asked, enjoying listening to him squirm. “Are you a leg man,” she ran her fingertips down his leg, and she heard him gently hum, “a breast man?”
He smiled, she could hear it, “You know, as a teenager I wanted it all, of course,” he began shakily. “Looking at you- loving you… there isn’t a single part of you that I don’t want to know…” She put her fingers over her eyes, and silently screamed in excitement, “or kiss, or touch, or look into,” he breathed. “Because it’s all been inside of me. You’ve held my heart in your hands.”
She smirked, and bent, kissing him gently on the mouth, the same way he had in Kingdom. “Oh, Marielle,” he panted dreamily. “A kiss?” She giggled. Oh Gosh, a giggle. She didn’t tell herself to stop this time. “Don’t stop,” he whispered, groaning in pleasured bliss. She kissed him again, and both laughed like children, discovering one another for the first time.
He held her against him, and for a moment, they were together staring at the same ceiling, riding the same intense high.
“You have to sleep,” she whispered.
“I’ll sleep,” he replied. “Early morning.” He turned to her, “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“You absolutely will.”
He paused, feeling the elation of the moment ending. “What are we going to do?” he asked, forebodingly.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “I know this is too good for the moment. You’re still going to choose Vincent, aren’t you?” He swallowed hard. “Because loving me isn’t going to change your resolve, is it?” He breathed out raggedly, and she didn’t reply. “I guess I’ll just have to take the punches?” He asked, hope filling the question.
She exhaled, he knew her too damn well. “Just rest tonight, darling. And know that no matter what happens? I’m in love with you…” she whispered with a deep sigh. “I’m so in love with you, Austin Rancor.” And then she said goodnight and hung the phone up after he said goodnight.
She lay on her back for a few moments, staring at her cottage cheese ceiling before wiping away a tear. She took in a deep pull of air and let it out slowly, trying to quell the smile that was still lingering on her full lips.
None of this news was new; she’d denied it, she’d tried to walk away from it, she’d fought it, she’d wrestled with it, she’d spent hours thinking about it, she’d tried to move on from it… none of it had worked. She was in love with Austin Rancor… and it wasn’t just any kind of love, it was a deeply devoted, addicted, obsessed, desperate, want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of love. How could she not? Not after everything they’d been through.
Yet, there was still an enormous problem; she couldn’t be with him, could she? He still wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship, and she had no evidence that he was going to be able to stay dedicated to her and her alone. Right now? He was just living in the state of a high, dreaming about the future, and desiring her more intensely than he’d maybe desired anyone.
She pet Felix on the head several times as he rubbed against her leg one way, then the other, and finally settled down.
What was it that imaginary Austin had said to her yesterday in the training room?
“And I can tell you how to make sure that I don’t end up messed up in this. I can tell you how to make sure that I stay on track, and focused- how I don’t become Tundra… Do you want to know how, darling? You might regret not listening now,” his haunting voice whispered.
Getting up, she went to her closet, praying that she had the stomach for what she was about to do… Okay… I love him. Now what?
She pulled something that was hiding at the back of the line of clothes and laid it on the bed, looking it over.
It was a long robe that was all red lace; entirely see through, but completely form fitting when sinched around her waist. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her if she were wearing this.
She went to the bathroom and filled the tub with hot water before dipping into a deliciously hot bubble bath after surrounding the bathroom with candles. She took about fifteen minutes to soak and let all thoughts, questions, and concerns drop out of her head and go down the drain with the water. Then she got out feeling fresh and clean.
She dabbed on some more red lipstick, brushed her short hair back from her face, and slipped completely out of her clothing before wrapping herself in the robe.
As she prepared, she momentarily thought of Vincent, and her anger felt as vivid as the red she was now donning. Rancor… rage… red… appropriate.
Yes, she wanted him, yes, she loved him, yes, she was technically with him. But she wanted him to understand her and her needs more. She wanted to be treated as an equal. She wanted to know that he supported and believed in her.
Her rage was going to affect her ability to profile, so taking a moment to breathe, she decided then and there, “I’m not going to think about you for as much as is possible for the next seventy-two hours or however long you’ve decided that you’re going to be gone… whatever punishment I incur from my actions? I’ll accept.” And she spritzed her body with rose perfume, and put Vincent Fabron from her mind.
Then she went to the bed, lay on her back, stretching as she felt all the little dips and notches of lace stretch across her body.
She took in a deep breath, holding it in for several seconds before letting it out…and again, then a final time. Then she closed her eyes, and slowly rolled onto her left side where she found Austin, laying on his right, hand under his temple, staring at her.
His eyes wandered down her body, taking in everything as they went. “Wow,” he said, tucking his bottom lip in for a moment. “For me?”
She smiled, “for you.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “Why are you doing this now? Why didn’t you do this three months ago?”
She shook her head, “I was terrified.”
“And you’re not now?”
She glanced down, “No… I’m more terrified now,” she admitted.
Then, all at once, he came after her, pinning her to the mattress as he straddled her body. “What do you want to know?” He asked, seething above her.
She met his gaze, strongly- unafraid. “Who are you?”
A cruel smile spread across his mouth, “You know who I am,” he growled, and he dipped, sinking his teeth into her neck, hard enough to draw blood. Tundra! She screamed, trying to fight him, she felt her wrists freeze to the point of breakage, and she quickly drew herself out of the fantasy.
She shook for a moment, holding herself around the middle as a wave of memories and horrors filling every corner of her mind. Tundra. She saw him in her dreams, leering over her; her body turning to ice and breaking to a million irreparable pieces.
Swallowing, she steeled herself and closed her eyes.
She breathed out through rounded lips, and turned back to him, rolling onto her side again. He was staring, she smiled.
“Wow,” he noted, tucking his lips in for a moment as his eyes wandered down her body, and everything that the robe was revealing to him. “For me?”
“For you.”
He bit his bottom lip suggestively, and his gaze found hers. “Do you want me?” He asked.
“Desperately.” He slowly moved over her, straddling her middle. Looking down, he took her wrists, and bringing them up above her head, he pinned them there. “You’re so strong,” she whispered, trembling.
“So strong,” he agreed with a nod.
She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat. “Do you want to hurt me, Austin?”
“Sometimes…” he admitted.
She pulled herself out of the fantasy shaking her head. It wasn’t right. Taking a deep breath, she held it in for a moment, then picked the fantasy back up again, before letting it out. “You’re so strong,” she whispered, trembling.
“I am,” he agreed.
“Do you want to hurt me, Austin?”
“No. Now all that I want to do is be with you,” he whispered tenderly and he dipped, and placed a tender kiss on her mouth.
She swallowed and pulled out of that fantasy.
That was more like him, now… twelve weeks ago? No. He was drastically changing from whatever it was that he had been becoming. What did he need? What could stop him from becoming something that would eventually destroy them, and her? And what in the world was she going to do about Vincent? She reminded herself that she wasn’t going to think about Vincent as much as possible
She exhaled, “Breathe, Marielle… you stay with Vincent right now even though you love both. You wait until this is over before you do anything.”
But I’m so mad at him right now. For this trip. For Tala. For Sasha. For all of it. She thought, clenching her fists.
“I know, but nothing can be done about that. Just next step, that’s all that you can do.”
But why am I toying with Austin if I’m not going to actually choose him? Why tell him that I love him?
“Because he needs it, doesn’t he?” She realized. The room went strangely silent. It was like a vacuum in space had opened and sucked all the noise from the place entirely.
She lay back down shakily and took in a deep breath, letting it out, slowly. Then she languidly rolled to her left side and looked him over. “Wow,” he said, looking down her body. “For me?”
She nodded, biting her lip, as she flushed a little. “For you.”
“I- I don’t think I deserve this right now,” he said, his eyes dancing around the room nervously.
She sat up on her knees, and slowly moved toward him. He sat back against the pillows, and she crawled on top of his lap, straddling his midsection, and coming all the way up until they were almost nose to nose. “What do you deserve? What do you need?”
He swallowed hard, and looked down between them, “Break me,” he said, matter of factly, and he trembled a little as he found her eyes again. “I can’t have everything that I want. If I get it… I become selfish, rude… possessive,” he paused and looked off. “You understand that I’m in the middle of sort of a rebirth. But I’m not done. I have a lot more to go through.”
“What do you have to go through?”
“Loss,” he explained, looking deeply into her eyes. “I have to experience fully having you. Then I have to lose you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and cocked her head to the side. “Why?”
“Because once I lose you I’ll have to learn how to handle myself on my own. No more Marielle to calm my pounding heart, your arms no longer there to comfort me. How I respond will be crucial to what I do next. Do I go back to being who I was before…” he swallowed hard, “or worse? Do I become Tundra? Or do I shift, and grow the hell up?” He sighed heavily and slowly his eyes close. “You won’t know who or what I am until you put the appropriate amount of pressure on me to heal.”
Her eyes were big pools of tears, as she paused for a few moments, staring at him deeply in thought. “I just told you that I am in love with you… and now you want me to break your heart?”
“Shatter it. I don’t want you to, no.” His eyes glittered. “You have to.”
She shook her head, and cupped his cheek, “I don’t want to do that to you,” she cried, softly.
He took her cheek into his hand as well, “I don’t want you to do that to me, either,” he replied, and his eyes were welling as well. He swallowed shakily, “And here’s the worst part, Marielle.” She winced, preparing for what was coming, “You can’t let me know what you’re doing. You can’t think it, you can’t feel it… you have to break me,” he when said break me his words trembled and wavered, “and leave me.”
“How are you going to respond to that?”
“Not well.”
She leaned in, holding him around the waist, and he put his arms around her, drawing her against him. “How do I do this?” Tears rolled down her cheeks, but her voice was stable.
“Give yourself to me for a few days, make me sign a contract. Then open up to me and love me like you’ve never loved anyone.” He was coming gently through her hair. “Re-crown me, Marielle. Not pleasure god. Innocent… Ice King.”
“You want me to write a contract about a brief relationship with you?”
“Vincent’s gone,” he said and the corner of his mouth twitched mischievously. “Give yourself to me as entirely as you can… then shatter me.”
She let out a breath that she felt like she’d been holding in for a while. “How are you going to respond to a contract?”
His jaw tensed. “Like a petulant child. I’ll demand. I’ll say no. I’ll tell you it’s bullshit. I’ll throw a tantrum. Don’t worry, I won’t hit you, or hurt you… but I’ll rage.”
“Are you telling me that if I don’t do this to you,” she paused, biting her bottom lip, nervously, “that you’re going to become Tundra?”
He was eerily silent for a moment. Then he gently eased her back so he could look into her green eyes; his gaze strong with hers. “I’m telling you that I’m in a strange place right now. I’ve been through a lot recently. I’m in love with you. I always get what I want. Don’t let me get what I want, Marielle. Break… my… heart… If I get what I want, then subconsciously I’ll always carry that as a contingency plan.” He went silent for a moment, then began to list off his possible thoughts, “maybe I can cheat on you, because I always get what I want… Maybe I can push the boundaries, because I always get what I want… I need to experience real and true heartbreak and suffering and process my emotions, thoughts, and feelings through that. Right now, I am dealing with my anxiety in a very specific way…” His gaze remained locked with hers, intense and possessive, “you.” She swallowed hard, glancing down. He slowly pushed her back, coming over her, and once again gently pinning her wrists to the mattress, “and if I can’t have you for a while- or ever then I have one of two choices… learn how to deal with things in a way that’s healthy and promotes growth… or go back to being who I was before.” his jaw tensed, “or worse.” She looked away from him, terrified. He took hold of her chin and turned it to him. “Tundra always got what he wanted… and it made him think that he was literally a god.” He kept hold of her chin, almost possessively for a moment, then gently let go. “I’m not Tundra. But I have the same DNA and while our experiences and pasts might be slightly different, I have the same things inside of me that I’m working out. We have the same demons.” He bent, gently kissing her, and feeding her his tongue and she welcomed it, desiring this kiss in real life. Then he pulled back a little. “I’ve always had control. Don’t let me have it this time. You take control. Be insistent. Don’t let up.”
She paused, processing all of this. “What if I don’t choose you in the end? What if I stay with Vincent?”
“I’ll be expecting that you will.” He leaned in towards her, and she met his forehead with hers. “Do it. Because whatever decision that you make- I still need this. I’ve always gotten what I wanted… now give me what I need,” he pushed through tears, “break me.” He ran his fingers through her short black hair, “It has to be your hands, darling.”
“Why my hands?” She asked trembling.
He gave her a soft, forced smile that died almost as quickly as it came, “because I am desperately in love with you, and the pain needs to be real, raw, and perfect.”
“When do I know that it’s enough? When do I know that you’ve had enough and that you’ve truly changed?”
“You’ll know. It’ll be obvious. I’ll do something that makes it clear, and it’ll hit you. But not before I’m entirely shattered.” He ran a thumb over her mouth, but bent his forehead into her shoulder. “Then the choice will be entirely yours.” For a moment, she held him like the trembling little boy that he was.
Marielle lay back on the bed, alone, confused, and broken.