Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Only the original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
AN: Thoughts /-Speech- / (-Flashbacks-)
I highly suggest start hearing the Interstellar Main Theme during ( - ) section of the chapter.
It was late at night, the moon was in its highest point, shining beautifully in the midnight sky surrounded by hundreds of stars. A sight to behold.
The air was fresh, pure, untainted, gently caressing the leaves on the trees, just like a lover softly tends the heart of their beloved.
The streets were, for once, empty and silent. It was a peaceful night.
It wasn't a typical NYC winter night, there was no snow falling down the sky.
But no one was paying attention to it.
Inside an old and hideous building was a woman. A tired and bored looking woman, tied to a chair.
And for the looks of it, she wasn't there for a nice talk with the owner.
The room where I am locked up was wrecked. Well, to be honest the whole building is wrecked. The walls were ruined, looking like they were made out of Gruyere cheese. The ceiling was a nice carpet of mold, almost covering every inch of it, except for a tattered spotlight. The floor wasn't that bad. The only items that looked decently enough were the chair and the desk, were several blades were aligned. And one man. One striking man and I began to wonder; Will he ever turn to me? Or is this going to be a nice talk with his butt? I wouldn't mind that, a nice butt on a man these days is something to cherish. And use.
-Why are you here? - A melodic voice makes its way out, resounding through the ravaged walls of the room, interrupting my mind and sucessfully returns me to the task at hand. The owner of such voice, is the author of several atrocious crimes, and many people are even scared of hearing his name, considering him incredibly barbaric and cold-hearted. But he actually isn't the orchestra director, he is just the man at the back taking care of the instruments and the musicians. More musicians than instruments. That, and the only way to get his superior The Bat, my ultimate target.
This man must be currently of the middle of his twenies and has a delicate and imposing exterior. He looks like he belonged to the Ancient Greece, tanned skin beneath a black dressing shirt with no tie, that wrinkles at his sides and in the middle of his strong and lean arms. Muscular long legs trapped in his white ironned dress pants with minor creases on his knees, giving an slight hint of what could be between them, leaving the rest to my imagination. A little work to my imagination...but I can't think of this right now...later, absolutly. I follow his every move with my eyes and watch how he slowly traces the outline of the shortest blade on the desk with his gloved finger. Wait, he wouldn't torture me with white pants, right? They would end being bloody red, smelling bad, they are nice pants! And blood doesn't gets off easily, I had to throw to the trash my favorite blouse because of that not so long ago. He begins to walk around the room, giving me time to admire his sinful body, his strong arms, lean legs, large hands, and a butt sculpted by the heavens, Now that I got my eye-candy I decide to talk.
-Your pants would end up on the trash if you do that.- He stops right in front of me in an intimidation position, broadening his shoulders and flexing his arms muscles. I can't see his face, just from the chest to his knees. Apparently this guys isn't so much of an amateur, at least he gets "don't let them see your face" down.
-What did you just said?- He says with an agressive tone, as if I was offending him. I was SAVING your pants life! Too much to ask for a man with good hearing and common sense. I mean, knife equals blood, blood equals red, red taints white. Asshole...I refuse to answer his question and prefer to struggle against the rope in my mid section. If I can move it to the metal side of the chair I could break free, and maybe show him why playing with knifes and wearing white pants is a bad idea. While I'm determined to teach this guy a lesson I fail to notice him approaching fast enough and suddenly I feel he lifts the pocket blade, the one he was playing with, to my neck, in an almost sensual way. And now that he has the perfect angle to shove his pocket toy into my neck, he asks again -Why are you here?-
-Again, the same question? - I respond in my controlled monotone voice, with an annoyed edge to it, and lift my chin to look defiantly to this guy. Bad idea... I immediately felt the pressure of the blade on my neck getting stronger, it was a question of time for my skin to break. I need to use another tactic, and make eye contact with him. I bet this guy can't do it when I look him in the eye, he is more the "don't look" style. -Why don't you ask another? You just have to ask... You are not bad looking, you know? - And oh-boy he had that something, that fuck something. To get my point across, I raised my stiletto up to his calf and down, massaging it, just like men like, repeating every movement with a little more pressure.
-You won't fool me. - But there was a slight tremble in his voice. This is working, it always work. This is why I love this tactic, I save my sorry ass and maybe get something better...
-Well, if you don't want to, I can't force you. – I throw my signature side smirk his way and that lightens completely the pressure of the blade. HA! KNEW IT! I see him retreat to the opposite side of the room, never turning his back on me, I am tied to a chair... right beside the desk with the other blades were. He leaves the pocket blade, and takes his gloves off. But places his back against the wall and leans on it, discarding the intimidating pose, but letting me see, for the first time, his face. And he has the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen.
-What makes you think I would like to have something with you? Huh? – His bluish-grey eyes make their way through my body. Surely imagining what would be beneath my suit. My outfit was a simple one. Black stilettos, black dress pants, a white shirt, and a steel grey leather jacket. Nothing to reveling. Pervert. I know I also checked him out from the beginning, but at least I try to not look so cynic about it. Mind you the "I try".
-Don't lie to yourself honey. I'm better than you, and you know it. -I tilted my head, just the enough to look seductive and expose the right side of my neck. He swallowed thickly. And after a few minutes he founded his voice again.
-You are not better. I would be the one doing you a favour. – His gaze lowers to the ground, but his voice has a hard edge to it. This guy. Is he trying to convince me or himself? I guess both. I will just put him in his place, gently. I don't want kisses from a knife. I search for his gaze, and then proceed to examine his coporal language, and all screamed the same. Resignation.
-Sweetheart, I'm off your league. Eloquent, sophisticated, gorgeous, and other things you could find out. Sincerely, if I was you I wouldn't miss the chance. Look you, may be attractive, but with that attitude you are so not getting any of this. – He looks angered, and maybe I may have gone a little too far. I have never been good at comforting, I..never got comforted...not ever since my d-dad...
(-)
Everything happened so fast.
I was just in the final semster of high school, being typical snoby and rich teeneger.
Going to a lot of parties with people I didn't even knew the name of, nor they give a crap about me.
Playing with appearances. Making them, keeping them, destroying them.
Having only a boyfriend, a rich and intelligent one, he tought if he got pushy I would gave in to his desires and I almost did, but at the end I send him to hell.
Drinking and dancing, that was my world for the weekend.
Being smart, and thinking the world is at my feet.
Just having a good time they said. Just having a good time I said.
And life didn't give me a good time but a lesson.
Being raised by an stable family, mom and dad. Mommy's little baby, daddy's little girl. Everything okay and perfect.
I was in the middle of class doodling, not paying attention until the Principal opens the door, and giving a loud scartch to the floor. That makes me look up to find a sad glint in his eyes. He discretly tells my teacher if I could get out and she calls my name asking me to pack my stuff. One single pen falls to the floor and I remember being horrified and embarased, noticing every eye was on me. I pretended to brush it up and I got out, not looking back.
The Principal doen't look at me, and I thought I was in trouble for skipping class the other day. I continue walking down the silent hall until my dad makes himself visible and I raced through the hall. I hugged him, but he didn't looked enthusiastic.
He tells me the only thing that can just mean the beginnig of the end.
He relates how Mom never come back for her work, even when she was supposed to spend the afternoon with us. My dad notices right away, and rushes to the school to take me earlier. He asked in her office but nobody saw a thing. She just dissapeared.
I couldn't believe it.
We sticked together during the hard wait to report her missing.
Just watching the clock mock us by making every secind longer and filling us with apprehension and agony.
We called the police several times, and they actually did something, just for a low price.
During that time I kept calling to her mobile only to hear her voice at the inbox. My dad was devastated, I was ruined.
We stayed at home, just for precaution.
I remembered how neither of us, mother and daughter, had the time for each other, just a few gold moments were on my memory, and ever since that horrible day in my heart.
Thankfully we knew we loved each other.
My father gets distant, and finally after a month we recived a call, from an unknown phone. Nobody said a thing. And the call ended. The police tracked down the phone, and we get to a brigde, far away from home and safety.
We found her. And we cried on relief. We sprinted towards her.
She didn't noticed, we caught her by surprise. She falled back.
But there was no expression on her face. Nor her eyes. No nothing. Just there, in the mud, cathatonic.
The paramedics throw us away, check her pulse. I hear the scream; None. They looked at eachother and made weird gestures with their hands. One looked at his wrist.
Inmediatly I heard heartwrenching sobs, and my dad runs and throws them away from my mom. He hugs her and cries.
I don't. I'am shock. Until I notice a tear slide down my cheek, and advance to hug my mom and my dad.
I feel like a machine, not procesing but seeing.
I go towards them. She felt cold at the touch, and I grabbed her hand, just to hold it. It limply falls towards the ground.
We buried her.
I thought I will suffer these mourning when I would be older. When I would be ready to face death of a parent.
My father-my dad and I talked about it, apparently you are never ready to face the death.
"You just put your chin up in the air, allow everyone to see you have feelings and that that makes you strong. Then you go home and drown in sadness until your heart begins to heal."
If only I could have got the time to be healed.
My father is the next.
He assures me otherwise, he says he is strong and intelligent. I make him remember my mom was also both.
I began to get obsessed with the fact my mother is not her anymore.
I go to her grave every day, and my dad supports me.
He tries to be strong for me, I know. But I don't wan't to be strong, I wan't to crumble and not feel anymore.
Nine months of bonding time. Not wanting to go to the exterior just staying in each other arms and letting me cry all night.
We get stronger over the time. He get's stronger.
I'm feed up of being scared, and miserable, I just want to end this. I don't try it just yet. I talked to him and we got into a fight. This is the second time I see him cry; he yells at me desesperatly;
"If you just want to quit life that's fine. Just, tell me first so we can quit together. I can't endure this without you"
We both make a silent promise to be our rock. Just the two of us against the world.
I began to feel we can make it, he begans to work on his office again and I began to go to the school to finish tests and paperwork.
And life, after falling and finally beggining to stand up, gives me another hit.
Same M.O.
Long wait. Agony at every turn. Many memories trying to fit all toghter in my heart.
Sadness in the house, in every room.
Nobody to lean on.
I follow my dad's advice.
I buried him just one week later.
But I chose not to feel again. At least until I'm ready.
(-)
Not the time Raven! FOCUS! He looks up and makes his way to me but kneels right in front of my legs. -That's better. – I hear myself say. I sometimes have no filter between, let's say, my mind and my mouth. I hear him laugh from between my thighs, How many moods swing can guys have? Who I'm kidding I have a lot more. And I suddenly feel his hands on my calves making his way up to other parts. He apparently is really busy making foreplay. -So, who is your boss? – I said while he is massaging my ankles, and taking my stilettos off. I need to get my mind of my memories and I bask on the warmness of his hands.
-Isn't enough with me? – I hear him say. And to answer him, I just saving my ass with a nice and delightful extra. But I can't say that, at least not yet. I can when I got my info, then I will leave this hole. And for that I just need to sweet talk to him.
-But, wouldn't you want to be more? This place isn't the best to do what we are going to do. I'm sure if you get your boss place, you could afford a mansion. Maybe I could visit more, you can always say I barely escaped with life, you would be the first one to get me. You know, you are the first one to get me trapped. – I can use on him the ego boost technic. It has always worked in other men, it will surely work now. He lifts his head enough for me to see his eyes, and they shine with hope. Something more? He rests his head on my inner thigh, letting a genuine smile, showing his perfect white pearl teeth. This one is a real smile, one that reaches his eyes. And one smile that makes me smile back. That smile alone disarms me completely. Shit.I CAN'T! FUCK! And he's looking at me! Do something!
I move my ankles and tackles him to the floor. He looks surprised, and defeated. I move my body just the enough to cut the rope, and free my arms. I run to the table were the blades are and pack them into my jacket, Is he still on the floor? I turn around, with the pocket knife in mu hand and find him indeed on the floor. Wha...? Isn't he supposed to attack me? Or have me killed? I saw him slowly get into a sitting position with tense muscles, his head staring at the floor. UGH! He looks like a lost puppy, being just kicked and on the rain. I am really gonna regret this! -So...won't you fight me or something?- I say akwardly, staring at him.
-Why should I?- His voices crackes, I should really get going, but something makes me stay...
-Aren't you the bad guy?- His head snaps at me and his eyes dampens, I just had to state the obvious. GREAT RAVEN! WAY TO GO! He is obviously sensitive! Wait, a sensitive guy?! That shows it! WT... -I had to be, I had to many reasons.- His icily voice cuts through my thoughts and I just say the first thing that comes to my mind. -Ha, me too.- Ops.
-What?- Oh! Yes my darling! you are not the only one damaged around here! I see his eyes full with confusion, did I say that aloud, or I just imagined it?
-Then why are you a "good guy"?- Said it.
-Why hurting someone else when I know how much the pain hurts? Isn't it like converting yourself in the one you wanted dead whe you were hurt? Why not just killing the one that hurt you? Look, I'm not here to revive my past, thank you very much. Goodbye, Richard. We'll see each other again, I promise.- And I leave running to the window and making a nice back flip to get to the full trash can on the side of the street. And when I fall and I look up, I see his eyes with amusement and concern. Soon. I just ran into the opposite direction and dissapear on the shadows.
AN; R&R Feedback is always appreciated.