He waited outside her hotel room as he often did with a hand in his pocket and the other carrying a bag of red-eye to supress her addiction. He saw her enter the hotel but this time she wasn't alone. With their arms around eachother they walked toward the stairs. He just stood paralyzed and stared at the nausiating sight through his disgusted eyes. The man he considered a friend and his lover holding each other, a sight he never thought he would view until now. Finally the forbidden couple looked up and noticed the silver-haired man.
"V-Vicious what are you doing here?"
"I came to bring you this."
He held up the bag of red-eye and threw it down the stairs violenty. She asked Spike to leave.
He
whispered into her ear:
"Meet me outside later."
He turned around to leave.
"Don't turn your back on me Spike."
Spike avoided him and left.
"Get in," Vicious commanded as he tilted his head toward the door.
She walked up the stairs and they went in to her suite. He sat down on an old, green, beat up couch.
"It's not what you think; we were just getting a bite to eat. It wasn't a date or anything he payed for his meal and I paid for mine. We're just friends nothing's going on."
"Bull shit," he mummbled.
She wrapped her arms around him and began to kiss his neck. This happened everytime they had problems. She seemed to think that sex solves everything. He grabbed her arms and threw them off of him.
"What is it? Look when Spike and I were talking he said we should just leave the syndicate, and I agree with him. Sooner or later we're all just going to end up dead," She changed the subject.
She got up and went into her bedroom. She grabbed a letter Spike had written her off of her nightstand, ripped it, and threw it out the window. As she looked down through the falling sheets of paper she could see Spike leaning against the building with a boquet of flowers at hand. Vicious walked into the room. She sat down on a chair next to her vanity. He sat at the corner of her bed and stared blankly at her for a moment, then he reached into his pocket for his colt. It began to rain. He approached her with the gun at his side.
"What are you doing?"
He held the gun up to her head and cocked it.
"Are you going to betray me. Did you really think you could just leave?It's never going to happen Julia."
"Vicious, are you going to kill him?"
"No but you are. Either you kill him or you both die those are your only options. Do you understand?"
"Yes. He means nothing to me."
"You'll have your chance to prove it."
He knew she was lying. He could always see right through her lies. He knew that she wouldn't kill Spike. He would have to take matters into his own hands. At one point he adored her and wanted to have a life with her, but now all he desired was to see her dead. Her behavior was to be expected. He knew how easy she was the day he met her, but he had been seduced by her charm. When she was around Vicious she wore a mask. She tried to seem like a loyal girlfriend except the night they met. She slept with him after only knowing him for an hour. He also discovered her red-eye addiction that night. Since they were together he had been supplying her with the drug and maybe that was the only reason she wanted him.
She got up and sat beside him on the bed.
"I
love you."
Those words used to affect him but know they made him cold and stoic. She layed down. She reached over and stocked his upper thigh, hoping to spark something.
"Knock it off."
She began to nuzzle his neck.
"Back off," he growled.
She took his coat off and began to rub his chest. The fustrated man grabbed her arm and tossed her down. He strattled her and clutched her throat.
"Knock it off."
He realized threatening her was foolish. She liked to be dominated. He released her neck from his grasp and layed down beside her but faced away from her.
"Go to sleep," he demanded.
"Not until I get what I want," she whispered.