I don't know if there's a good reason to have thought up this story other than I enjoyed the character Chigurh and the actor who played him. I hope to do him, the movie, and the book justice even though this story won't hold a candle to any.
I won't write more than what he's doing (I'm not so bold as to pretend I know how he thinks), so every look he gives is important. And my character is...well, ya'll will see what she's like.
Also, may be good for me to point out now this 'relationship' is a bit screwed up...and the rating will most likely change to M in a couple chapters for more mature scenes.
Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.
A dark shadow hovered quietly in the doorway watching the woman being fucked. The way her small pale body jerked with each careless thrust of his hips, her thin arm slung across his shoulders cradling him as he pounded into her, and how the warm sun streaked through the open window dancing over her yellow hair. Her head was turned to the side, away from him, taking a drag of her cigarette. Bouncing to his quickening rhythm she slowly exhaled watching the smoke dissipate in the air.
With a choked groan he came and rolled off of her, she having filled her use. Another puff and she swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked up through the window at the clear blue sky.
"Where you goin?" he demanded. Possessive.
A bird caught her eye and she followed it from one edge of the window to the other until it too disappeared. She wondered what that'd be like. "To take a bath." Wash your filth outta me, but she didn't say that last part.
A finger wrapped around one of her loose curls tugging on it lightly. "I'm hungry."
Then do something about it. "Want me to go to Mabel's?" She released a wall of smoke on a heavy sigh.
"Aw baby," he said reaching for her, his wet mouth trailing up her shoulder to the crook of her neck. "You're too good to me." He tucked her hair behind her ear running his thumb over the swell of her cheek as she turned to face him.
He had beautiful hazel eyes, her favorite goddamn color. For a fleeting moment she imagined digging the sharp nails of her thumbs in those eyes. She smiled rounding her cheeks and sweetening her cherubic face. "I love you," she told him even sweeter.
A slow grin spread on his handsome face warming him in the ways only she could. Sitting up he took her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely, pouring every ounce of love in his wretched soul into that girl.
As he laid back she turned letting her face fall to stone raising the cigarette to her reddened lips. Standing she grabbed her pants and his shirt and pulled them on.
"Love you baby."
Her small feet paused in the doorway and she huffed a stream of smoke through her small pointed nose – seeing a shadow out of the corner of her right eye. With a face as dead as her beating heart she gave a quiet, "yeah," and headed for the door.
The diner was a two minute walk from their house and she'd hoped the fresh air would do her some good. There wasn't anything fresh about the still hot air, and there wasn't anything good about her.
She was a sight to see as the bells strung on the door tinkled; pale hair hanging around her youthful face, the collar of Ronnie's too-big shirt fell to the middle of her chest showing every bit of her sternum and the soft skin stretched over it, and her bare feet moving over the cool tile.
"Mornin dear," Mabel greeted as she slid into a stool at the counter.
"Is it still morning?" she asked not knowing the time.
Mabel looked at the watch her husband had gotten her for her birthday. "Will be for three minutes more. Ronnie want his usual?" The girl nodded. "You want anything?" she always asked.
"No ma'am," she always answered.
Fifteen minutes she sat on the stool with her arms folded over the sticky counter pretending to listen to Mabel talking about her boys. She asked after Mabel's husband and nodded with contrived sympathy at hearing he'd been in an accident at work.
"What about you?" Mabel asked setting the bag on the counter and ringing her up. "Anything new?"
Grabbing the plastic of the bag she slid off the stool. "Nothin's ever new."
Mabel's smile widened. "I see Ronnie proposed," she cooed looking at the shiny ring on her long slender finger.
She looked at it and the way the light caught the little diamonds making them shimmer. It was heavy. She gave a quiet, "yeah."
"I miss bein young and in love," Mabel said patting her hand and letting her go.
She grinned taking her change and left, the little bells tinkling as they hit the door. Before it swung closed she had a cigarette stuck between her lips and a lighter in hand. Her going was slower, her asphalt-warmed feet dragging. She convinced herself it was to finish the cigarette.
With a vacant emptiness to her face she wearily moved up the driveway to the front door. It stuck halfway hitting the overturned coat rack. Squeezing through the small opening she pushed the door closed with her elbow staring curiously at where it'd fallen across the doorway. That was odd.
She moved past the hall through the living room and stopped in the archway to the kitchen staring down where Ronnie lay wide eyed on the floor with a hole in his head. She blinked at those glassy hazel eyes. Curiouser and curiouser.
A broad shadow almost double the width of her hovered behind the pantry watching her and the way her head tilted on a long thin neck. Like a little bird. She let the bagged food drop to the floor and turned back to the hall, her small feet creaking on the stairs. The shadow followed.
Her eyes were raised to the empty shower curtain rod and the few plastic rings that had stuck when the curtain was yanked off. She then bent to turn on the faucet and stood pulling off her clothes letting them pool around her feet. The water was a touch too warm as she stepped in but she lowered her body in anyway.
There was a soft splash as a drop of water fell from the leaky faucet. She watched another grow slowly until it was too heavy and dripped from the rusted metal. Her breathing was even, her heart slow, her mind heavy. It hit her all at once, as it often did - the drip of the faucet, the beat of her heart, the rush of breathing, the weight of this life.
Her head ducked under the water and she screamed a high piercing thing heard only by her. Her eyes were screwed shut and her hands were hooked like claws around the edge of the tub, her mouth open wide. The water bubbled above her.
She broke the surface and leaned her warm shoulders against the cool tub breathing deep and slow as water dripped from her face. "I know you're there." Her voice was soft and light.
There was an audible pause in the hall to her right before the clap of a boot sounded on the tile as he stepped into the bathroom. She turned seeing him sitting on the lid of the toilet staring at her with eyes dark enough to have been black.
This went on for some time him staring unblinking at her and her blinking slowly at him. Neither spoke. He had the advantage and she sat vulnerable unconcerned. The stiff peaks of her small breasts rose out of the water with every calm breath. There was a wrongness to her he found familiar. "How,"
"I saw you watchin me," she answered before he could finish asking.
She'd known he was there before she left. He blinked several moments considering that, considering her. "I wasn't watching you," he told her, his accented voice a quiet grumble.
The corner of her mouth curled just a little. "Course you wasn't." Her own accent was thick but not in the way of Spanish such as his, hers came from so deep in the country corn oughta been growing in her throat.
He watched her eyes close as she leaned back looking for all the world like she was content. "You know what comes next."
"Yeah," she mumbled through half parted lips.
This was new to him – not an ounce of fear or a will to fight. Unfeeling. "You want to die?"
"No," she said with the slow shake of her heavy head. "I'm just tired of living." The water wasn't so scalding anymore, her pinkened skin had grown used to the heat. There was a flutter of something in her chest that almost felt like longing.
"Call it."
Her eyes opened seeing the crack in the wall that looked like the Choke Canyon Reservoir – she knew that because she spent so often in the tub staring at it. She turned to his expressionless face, his wide nose and his round dark eyes, that god-awful hair. "Call it as in a coin toss?" she asked him.
Nodding he answered with a simple, "yes."
She sighed sinking lower in the water almost in defeat. "There an option where you just kill me?" His face was unchanged. "Tails then."
He lifted the hand from his knee to see her fate. "My lucky day right?" Her sweet voice had him looking up and all he saw as she stared at the lip of the tub was resignation. As if life to her was as inconvenient as it was inevitable.
It was settled then. "Well," she sighed climbing to her feet hearing the splash of water as it poured from her body. He was looking up at her waiting, the silver coin still poised over his knee. "You gonna hand me the towel." The way she said it sounded more a demand than a request. All the same he grabbed the soft towel from the hook beside him and held it out for her.
She patted herself dry, propping a foot on the edge of the tub to run the towel over each leg, across her chest, between her legs, and finally she was half bent with her back to him working it over her wet hair. Satisfied she turned back to him with it hooked on her finger. She held his dark eye as he took it from her and then she turned making her way to the bedroom.
Slow to follow he first set the damp towel on the hook before moving into the hall, peering around the doorway to see flashes of her skin as she stood at the dresser.
She rifled through the drawers settling with a pair of high waisted jeans and she set them on top of the dresser and began looking for a shirt that wasn't Ronnie's. A large hand gently pulled the bra out of her grasp and set it back in the drawer. She turned to him looking first at his straight face and then to the black crochet halter top he extended to her.
Ronnie got it for her, he liked that he could see most of her skin through the loose yarn. With that thought in mind she looked back up at this strange dead eyed man. But she took it, and he held her eye several breaths longer before quietly making his way downstairs. A thought came to her, a wondering that made her smile.
She found him in the kitchen at the stove turning each knob so that it clicked letting only gas out. Her quick mind caught on and she moved behind him reaching into one of the drawers for a roll of foil. Unmoving he watched her tear a sheet, looking beyond that to see her creamy skin peeking through the chain of yarn. His head turned with her as she walked to the microwave placing the foil inside and setting the timer for five minutes. It wouldn't need even half that.
He followed the swinging of her hips as she made for the door, stopping to grab a faded green jacket from off the back of the couch. He followed her into daylight closing the door after them.
That was that then.
Returning to the car he'd picked up along the way he looked up at the passenger door opening and watched with wide eyes her slide in beside him. With a brow poised in question she returned his quiet stare finding in his mild surprise he looked almost sweet.
Several moments they shared a long searching look until he reached a decision and started the car.