Tristan and Raven
She walked in, shutting the cold metal door behind her. It was very cold out here in this old abandoned factory especially as the previous explosion that had shut it down had blown off the roof. She was wearing her black mini-skirt, black ankle boots and her red low v-neck non-sleeved t-shirt. Her deep red school bag was still slung over her shoulder but this time it contained only money, lots of money. She carefully stepped over metal bars and sharp materials, cutting her calves as she walked on. She was trying to be confident, not showing how scared she was. "Tristan!" she called out. Her voice echoed round the building. She found the old staircase to the second floor, where he usually slept, and climbed it. Tristan was a 30 year-old criminal. Raven didn't know if he actually was a criminal or not, but she'd never seen him work yet he always had large amounts of money on him. In fact, the money in her bag was for him from three of her school friends but she hadn't been let in on why they owed him. "Tristan!" she shouted again as she stepped onto the second floor. She kept walking around towards his room which he had adopted, still calling his name. She could see his mattress and old lamp and books, which he had set up in a corner. But he wasn't there. She walked towards the next flight of stairs leading up again. "Tris..."she started but was cut off as she whirled round to see him walking towards her. "Hey, baby," he said, startling the 17 year-old. "Look, I've only come here to give you the money. I can't stay." "Don't worry, Raven, you'll be fine. I won't let anyone hurt you." He was walking towards her now and was only a few metres away. Raven had fallen in love with Tristan about a year ago but broke up with him because of his secrets and lies. Now she didn't like being near him, but somehow couldn't keep away. It terrified her. His bleached blonde hair shone in the moonlight streaming through the open roof and his usual black leather jacket hung around his thin form. The black t-shirt he always wore tucked into his black fading jeans was tight, emphasising his muscles. He had very pale skin, high cheekbones and incredible green eyes that Raven got lost in. She was the complete opposite, looks wise, to Tristan. She had red hair and brown eyes and a generally flushed look about her face that was very warm. She was still backing away from him when she hit a wall. She stopped, fear unconcealed in her eyes. "Please, Tristan," she begged in her whisper, close to tears. He was right in front of her now, the desire in his eyes, unmistakable. His hand suddenly shot out, clasping her chin as her head slammed against the back wall. She let out a little scream before he pressed his body against hers, and lowered his lips to her own. His other hand was against the wall just above her head as he leaned in to her, as close as he could get. But she didn't notice. She couldn't help herself, she melted into his kiss immediately and gave just as good as she got. When he pulled away again, he still couldn't draw his eyes away from her face as he ran his cold fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just can't stop loving you." "Don't be," she replied before curling her hands around his neck and kissing him again.
She walked in, shutting the cold metal door behind her. It was very cold out here in this old abandoned factory especially as the previous explosion that had shut it down had blown off the roof. She was wearing her black mini-skirt, black ankle boots and her red low v-neck non-sleeved t-shirt. Her deep red school bag was still slung over her shoulder but this time it contained only money, lots of money. She carefully stepped over metal bars and sharp materials, cutting her calves as she walked on. She was trying to be confident, not showing how scared she was. "Tristan!" she called out. Her voice echoed round the building. She found the old staircase to the second floor, where he usually slept, and climbed it. Tristan was a 30 year-old criminal. Raven didn't know if he actually was a criminal or not, but she'd never seen him work yet he always had large amounts of money on him. In fact, the money in her bag was for him from three of her school friends but she hadn't been let in on why they owed him. "Tristan!" she shouted again as she stepped onto the second floor. She kept walking around towards his room which he had adopted, still calling his name. She could see his mattress and old lamp and books, which he had set up in a corner. But he wasn't there. She walked towards the next flight of stairs leading up again. "Tris..."she started but was cut off as she whirled round to see him walking towards her. "Hey, baby," he said, startling the 17 year-old. "Look, I've only come here to give you the money. I can't stay." "Don't worry, Raven, you'll be fine. I won't let anyone hurt you." He was walking towards her now and was only a few metres away. Raven had fallen in love with Tristan about a year ago but broke up with him because of his secrets and lies. Now she didn't like being near him, but somehow couldn't keep away. It terrified her. His bleached blonde hair shone in the moonlight streaming through the open roof and his usual black leather jacket hung around his thin form. The black t-shirt he always wore tucked into his black fading jeans was tight, emphasising his muscles. He had very pale skin, high cheekbones and incredible green eyes that Raven got lost in. She was the complete opposite, looks wise, to Tristan. She had red hair and brown eyes and a generally flushed look about her face that was very warm. She was still backing away from him when she hit a wall. She stopped, fear unconcealed in her eyes. "Please, Tristan," she begged in her whisper, close to tears. He was right in front of her now, the desire in his eyes, unmistakable. His hand suddenly shot out, clasping her chin as her head slammed against the back wall. She let out a little scream before he pressed his body against hers, and lowered his lips to her own. His other hand was against the wall just above her head as he leaned in to her, as close as he could get. But she didn't notice. She couldn't help herself, she melted into his kiss immediately and gave just as good as she got. When he pulled away again, he still couldn't draw his eyes away from her face as he ran his cold fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just can't stop loving you." "Don't be," she replied before curling her hands around his neck and kissing him again.