Nymphet
Chapter 1
Senses and awakenings
The Shadow Gallery
After the first few weeks of forced residence in the Shadow Gallery, Evey could no longer lie to herself; she still wanted to go back to her old life but she couldn't remember sleeping so soundly since she was a little girl. Everything was strange down there and she was still a bit scared of V. She was also twice as scared of his "hobbies", which usually involved home-made explosives, which were the least he could pull. On the positive side, she was adapting, she was no longer terminally cold, she was clean, fed, nobody yelled at her any longer and she was even surrounded by beautiful things. Evey also had too much free time on her hands.
V tried to keep her busy with as many intellectual activities as possible –he abhorred at least 9 out of every 10 shows on television and therefore didn't want her to waste her time before the screen watching that filth- and had imposed on himself the task of trying to remove from her head as many party slogans as possible, and replace them with something more sensible, which at first met strong resistance and gave Evey headaches.
Evey didn't believe most of what the system had tried to plant into her brain in order to transform her from a troublesome child with a turbulent past, into a model citizen. A model citizen that couldn't even get enough food stamps to keep her body well fed and sadly had grown used to being hungry most of the time, something that changed when she met a strange man in a mask, one night after curfew.
V still wasn't satisfied with her deprogramming and kept poking her in search for what had indeed conditioned her, which Evey found annoying and intrusive. She also knew he meant well and endured the process almost every day as difficult as it may be. Sometimes it was very frustrating for V as well and more than once it must have made him roll his eyes behind the mask.
At least Evey was almost sure there were eyes behind the mask although V seemed to look at her with his whole body, just the way he seemed to feel, hear, smell, taste, and God knew what other senses she couldn't even begin to imagine were also there. She didn't know how that would work but it was just the way he acted and the way she felt when he looked at her, even from behind. She'd get a tingly feeling running up and down her spine, a gentle humming that resounded in the base of her skull, like a chill but it wasn't cold; it was warm instead. Then she'd turn around to find him there, standing several feet away, head tilted and hands laced behind his back, just watching her in silence, not even trying to pretend he wasn't.
Sometimes he'd take this as his cue to start a conversation, which could turn into an academic session, or he'd simply nod at her appreciatively before turning around and leaving the room without saying a word. Evey liked it when he did the latter and after a couple times found herself looking forward to having a chance to see V walking away from her, slowly if possible. She simply loved his narrow waist, the most indecent curve on the small of his back, the slim hips, and the long legs, but she especially liked the way he filled those black breeches. She often wondered what would be like to give that muscular rump a good bite.
The thing is she wasn't supposed to feel anything when he was looking at her, as V admitted. He'd been actually surprised the first time it happened. One morning he was reading after breakfast and absentmindedly heard her walking to one of the corner bookcases, looking for something to read. He'd rapidly grown used to the sound of her light and usually bare feet carrying her from here to there, and it was a sound he found both exciting and comforting. He listened as she picked one book after the other, just to return them to their places after flipping a few pages and finding she wasn't in the right mood for them.
Eventually there was silence and V looked up from his own Japanese cooking recipes book to see what the girl was up to. Evey was holding in her hands the volume she'd finally picked and apparently found the first pages so interesting that instead of sitting down on her favorite reading chair or –hopefully- next to him, she stood glued there, reading page after page, shifting her weight.
V was about to suggest she brought her book back to the black leather couch but she looked so small and pretty under the soft lights that he said nothing and being a practical man, took the chance that was offered to give her a good look. Evey looked completely immersed in those pages, frowning a little when something seemed to challenge her old notions or pressing the very tip of her pink tongue to her upper lip when further explanation cleared things up.
V could no longer remember what recipe he'd been reading. V could no longer remember he'd been reading in the first place. He found himself mesmerized by that moist little tongue, wondering what it would feel like to let it play with his own, late, late at night.
Then it happened; Evey shivered visibly and turned to look straight at him with a surprised expression, as if she'd seen or heard his thoughts. She had the decency of blushing and giggled, nagging him a little for making her squirm with his "piercing stare". V chuckled and apologized for disturbing her reading and proceeded to ask her about what she'd felt in detail. After all his very life depended on stealth but so far no other soul had sensed him like that. He finally considered it an oddity and turned it into a playful thing, a game only they could play. If only he'd known he'd awaken in Evey a playful side not all girls have but most men should fear.
Evey felt sincerely attracted to V but her difficult adolescence had deprived her of the chance to fully live and eventually outgrow every normal stage girls experience and she became a frightened young woman long before her time, which just made her attraction remain real but at the same time not be mature or sensible.
What should have been her teenage games –including the cruel ones- were supplanted by a façade of obedient conformity, forced into her brain during her "reeducation" after her parents had been detained and eventually killed. She remained suspended between the woman and the child, frozen in time.
As a survival tool Evey had repressed that aspect of her own personality that should have developed when she was 12 or 13 but now in her early twenties she felt safer in her dimly lit sanctuary, and things inside her were stirring, boiling after a long sleep. Evey was, with V's enthusiastic support, on her way to discover who she really was.
Unfortunately neither knew that Evey was about to make up for all the lost time and embody the archetype of the perverse nymphet, one of those charming little devils that once in a while showed up among regular girls to turn the world upside down and keep it that way for a handful of years. Evey was in fact a repressed Lolita, meant to explore her resources and her sexuality by means of systematically tormenting males around her, just to see what made them tick and how far she could go with them to have her way.
Now that unfulfilled aspect of her was rapidly awakening and there was only one possible target; V. Grown up Evey wanted the man and nymphet Evey wanted to play with her food as well. Both demanded satisfaction. Apparently the skilled assassin didn't have much of a chance playing that game he wasn't aware of, and Evey herself wasn't yet fully capable of understanding her behavior, much less put an end to it. All she knew was that some part of her very much enjoyed teasing V, even to the point of annoying him. She was already learning how to draw him back to her after throwing a fit, and then make him forgive her as if it had been -his- choice to do so. She'd also learned a couple things from him; like never using the same trick twice...