Lets see where this goes. No promises.
Bella caught her reflection in the window and realised she was rocking. Sitting hunched on the floor, back ostensibly positioned to be propped up by the bed, she sat in the darkness of the hotel room waiting for the phone to ring.
She'd been there for an hour. When Bella had entered the room, her energy and façade dropped. She didn't bother inserting her key card into the receptacle by the door that would automate the lights. Had just managed to kick off her heals, grab the phone and pull it down onto the floor next to her.
As fried as she was, her brain was on repeat. Soothing herself, in self-preservation. They promised. Promised he'd call…
Just like she'd promised everyone that everything had been fine when she'd left. That nothing had been wrong.
She'd lied. What if they lied too?
Bella watched detached as her reflection continued to rock, back and forth, in the darkness. Washington's lights gleaming down below the glass. She knew what to do if he didn't call. He'd made her recite it over and over, also in the darkness. But then she'd had his arms wrapped around her, the fragrance of them keeping her distracted from his instructions.
But he'd force her to repeat them. Would stop and quiz her, until even he was satisfied she knew the plan like a reflex. Partly because that was his way. Drilling everything over, looking for weaknesses, searching all possible outcomes and having equally thorough contingencies. But also because he knew her. Knew she would realise what was happening beyond her small role. Knew she'd only truly realise then what was happening. Knew she would recoil into her mind, and need to act without decision-making. Oh yes, he knew her. His other half.
The phone rang.
Bella reached down, her clammy hand cradling the receiver to her ear, and waited.
"Bella."
Her breath caught. It was him. Everything was ok. He was ok. All the pain, the lying, the fucking shit was done. Because he was ok. And now she would be too.