Why Graverobber Ever Got In
Graverobber just had the time to close the window when Amber Sweet entered her bedroom. She was too busy exchanging shouts with one of her brothers through the half-opened door to notice him standing in the light of the full moon. He wondered if he should hide, but he decided it would make him look ridiculous, and he wasn't there to be ridiculous. Besides, the Largo family had the monopole over that too.
"Fuck you Luigi! I'm the one in charge around here, and that's what I've decided. Period."
Graverobber couldn't hear what Luigi replied, but it made Amber laugh sarcastically.
"I don't care okay? I don't give a damn that your big ego can't handle me being the boss instead of you! There's nothing you can do about it or to me, so shut up and go bother Pavi or something."
She was about to close the door but she paused a second and added:
"And tell Pavi to stop wearing my face all the time in front of the journalists, they find it fucking creepy and it's not good for the image of GeneCo."
Luigi's voice, even muffled, sounded more like a whine now.
"Yeah big brother, see you tomorrow morning…"
She then shut the door and let out an annoyed grunt. Even though the room was still plunged into darkness, Graverobber could distinguish her slim figure standing with her back to him. She seemed to be trying to regain some composure, taking a few deep breaths, and he smiled: that was the perfect moment for him to make his presence known.
"Well you've grown some mighty balls, dear."
Amber started and turned to him, switching the light on. They both squinted at the sudden brightness in the room.
"Fuck, you scared me! What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?"
"You know I'm an expert at finding my way through and in anything," he replied cockily.
"Usually it's inside a graveyard. What made you leave your precious dead bodies for the living world?"
"Your living body, I'd say. Or rather, the lack of it. I haven't seen you for weeks."
"Yeah well, I decided to quit Zydrate when I became the new head of GeneCo," she replied, slightly lifting up her chin in a proud gesture.
"Mmm, it certainly seems to be working for you…"
He took the time to let his gaze linger on Amber's new appearance: long black hair, strangely blue eyes, great boobs, perfect legs… Striking as usual. And yet different, but for the sake of him he couldn't figure out what it was. More… confidence? That was certainly unusual; the lady's extensive self-loathing had made him earn a good living for years.
"Like what you see?" she smiled.
"Couldn't deny it."
"Then buy yourself some newspaper and go enjoy yourself out of my sight," she sharply replied.
"It's true that you're everywhere now, unlike the good ol' times when you wouldn't bother to show up when you were asked to…"
The gaze she shot him was hot with anger and she strode towards him, pushing him against the wall. Just like good ol' times, he thought, and he quite enjoyed it. The self-loathing hadn't magically disappeared after all.
"You piece of trash, how dare you come in here and rub my face in my past shit!"
"Yeah, 'past'… It was what, a month ago? And how's your face by the way? Heard it looked lovely on Pavi. 'Creepy' as you put it earlier, but lovely…"
She slapped him so hard his right cheek burned instantly, and his left one would have suffered the same treatment if Graverobber hadn't grabbed Amber's hand just in time, this time.
"Why are you doing this?! Don't you have someone else to abuse, like that Shilo girl?" she exclaimed, infuriated.
"You've always been my favourite, Amber," he replied with a smug smile.
When he tried to kiss her, she fought her way out of his grasp and took a few steps back, rubbing her wrist.
"If you don't leave right now, I'll call security."
"Come on, don't bring your boy toys into this. We're only talking."
She made as if to carry out her threat but he quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed her shoulders:
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry."
She winced under his touch and he let go of her, raising his hands in surrender.
"Started off the wrong foot. Sorry," he carried on, trying to sound as honest as possible.
"You think?" Amber replied ironically, but he could see that she had softened up a bit. After all, she was as used as him to their traditional banter.
"I could use something to drink though, princess. I've been on the run all day and it took me all that was left of my energy to get here."
She kept her strange blue eyes on him a few seconds before walking to her desk where she brought out a bottle of water.
"Mmmm, nothing stronger?" he ventured.
She rolled her eyes and served him a glass of whisky.
"Here, 'something stronger'," she nodded, handing him the glass and sitting on the side of her bed.
"Didn't picture you as a whisky girl," he chuckled, sitting down next to her.
"It's one of dad's bottles. I managed to get some for myself before Luigi and Pavi helped themselves, just like they did with the rest of dad's stuff. Without asking me if I wanted anything. As if they were the only Largo children..."
At the mention of Rotti Largo, Amber's voice had changed a bit and she suddenly sounded like a little girl. The little girl craving for attention that had come to him for years, trying to find salvation and recognition through Zydrate and surgery. She hadn't been his first customer with daddy issues, but she had always fascinated him, in a weird way. Just like he was finding her strange blue eyes fascinating now. And repulsive.
Attraction/repulsion. Love/hate. That had always been the way they worked. She would despise him for selling her Zydrate, and he would love her for selling out to him and him alone. She would love him for making her completely oblivious to the world and the pain, and he would despise her for being just another vulgar druggie. That was how their sick little world turned, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. Until she had decided to ruin everything and clean up her act.
"They always do that, you know? It's like… it's like me being the boss doesn't change a damn thing for them. They'll never respect me, just like dad never respected me, just like nobody ever respected me," she continued, her childish voice growing more frustrated.
Graverobber kept silent, sipping his whisky and mentally remembering where his Zydrate gun was. Looked like Amber might need a shot real soon. Finally. His normalcy (and much welcome income) was on its way back.
"They pretend in front of the cameras and the journalists, but when we're home, it's a whole different story! I try my hardest to assert myself, and I could just run away like I used to, but I don't, because I don't want to be that fucking piece of laughable trash I was! 'Cos I was trash, wasn't I?"
He was about to feed her self-loathing and agree when she looked straight at him, with those fucking strange, fascinatingly repulsive blue eyes.
"Well…" he hesitated, and cursed himself for doing so.
"I was just a pathetic Zydrate addict, the laughing stock of everyone. And they were right! Dad was right! I was fucking pathetic! And I still am, no matter what I want to think or believe. I mean, look at us, look at what's left of dad's empire: a creep with personality disorder wearing my stupid fallen face, a murderous whiny loony, and a slut addicted to the knife."
Some bitter tears were now running down her face, but she kept her gaze on him, and before he knew what he was doing, he replied:
"You seem to be doing great though. Really great."
Damn those fuckingly strange blue eyes of hers! Why hadn't he simply offered her some sweet relief through the help of her dear friend, his Zydrate gun? Why was he suddenly acting all… noble? That made him sick to his stomach. And that woman was still staring at him, apparently waiting for him to continue. And the poor bastard that he was, he did continue.
"As I was mentioning earlier, power seems to have made you grown some balls. You did stand up to those freakish brothers of yours, and you're actually running the Largo empire. It's been a month and GeneCo's still there, making some mighty benefits, and you're working on changing its public image."
"That's… You're just saying that… You know me, you truly do. Sometimes I think you're the only one that does. You know that I'm just a pathetic addict deep down, that's who I am. I can't change."
Now, now was the time to offer her some Zydrate.
"You haven't had surgery since you've taken over GeneCo, and you're telling me you've quit Zydrate too. If it ain't change, I don't know what the fuck it is."
Son of a… What a lousy drug dealer he was making! And here she was, that fucking Amber, with those fucking eyes that had just lightened up… How he hated her right now. How he wanted to take her on this bed too.
"You… You really think so?" she stuttered, a mix of hope and doubt showing on her face.
"Yeah… Yeah, I guess I do," he answered with a sigh. Poor, poor bastard.
She gave him a small smile, looking genuinely pleased, just like a teenager that had received a compliment from her first crush. And all he wanted to do right now was to wipe that loud red paint from her lips.
"That's nice, thanks… That's the first nice thing that anyone has said to me in a long time actually."
"Yeah, well don't get used to it…" he muttered before pinning her to the mattress, his mouth roughly claiming hers. To hell with his Zydrate plans. He earned enough money already to sustain himself. If he couldn't have Amber under his gun, he would perfectly settle for having her under his body.
The muffled surprised sound she made echoed the muffled sound of his empty glass falling on the carpet, but soon enough they were replaced by their moans and grunts and kisses and the rustle of their clothes as they joined the glass on the floor.
Later, Graverobber would sometimes wonder why he ever got in Amber's room night after night, but the answer almost immediately came up: because he needed her as much as she needed him, with or without Zydrate.