A/N: Ok you guys have inspired me to keep going! Thank you so much for reading and thank you to lovecomeys17, Quirkista and moonwilow for being my first reviewers! (thanks for alerting me to the mistakes X_X I will fix them ASAP)
Disclaimer: still owning nothing except the plot!
Paper Butterflies: Chapter 2
Okay so I walk into my apartment and I'm more than ready to crash, when suddenly the lights come on and there's some dude in black lounging against my bedroom door! I'm not panicking physically, but mentally I'm running through my Tai Chi lessons from when I was younger, and watch the figure, looking out for any sight of attack.
"I hear you've been dying to meet me..." this gets my attention. I eye the man carefully and wonder what he's talking about, "What are you talking about? I don't even know you!" I didn't realize I had said this out loud until my ears were greeted by a harsh, cynical sound and a seething reply. "You don't even know me, yet you've written quite a few articles about me, my personal favourite was 'Ghosts of Scumbags Past'."
Suddenly something in my alcohol soaked brain clicked. Standing before me was the ever elusive, Crime Lord of the once proud Fire Nation.
This fact seemed to excite me rather than scare me, proving Sokka's theory that I needed some serious psychiatric help. I couldn't subdue the huge grin I knew was dominating my face. "What brings you to this nick of the woods 'Your Lowness' or do you prefer 'His Gloominess'?" I promptly started giggling and on some level, cursed this inebriated state. Had I been lucid never would I have made such dry jokes or even attempted to be funny with this low-life.
It seems my "guest" did not appreciate my humour, "Call me whatever you want, I don't care. The only reason I came is so that you could get your facts straight. It's no secret I run the underworld of this nation and head more than a few unsavoury operations; you'll excuse me if I do not disclose the specifics to a reporter." At this point he stopped to sneer at me before carrying on, "But as for the revolting accusation made against me regarding human trafficking, I can assure that it is unfounded. I may be a villain, but that doesn't mean I am a dishonourable man. Believe it or not, but it is possible for one to be a bad-guy without being a bad guy."
Initially I was stunned by this, but snapped out of it almost immediately and couldn't hold back the venom from my retort. "Perhaps what you say is true, but You, a seasoned criminal will certainly forgive Me if I don't readily believe you. So what you're saying is that you're a good bad guy? Now I'm pretty sure I've heard it all."
He smirked at me again and for some reason that little gesture irked me more than I cared to think about. I watched as he nodded his head slowly then further detached himself from my door post and made his way toward me. He stopped a foot in front of me and I was struck by how tall this fiend really was, and a tiny rebellious part of me observed that he wasn't at all bad looking, despite the livid crimson scar dominating the upper left side of his face.
I tried to glare at him as best I could, what with my peripheral vision slowly starting to cloud up, I think I was doing a good job. He seemed to be studying me, and I hated the way his head was cocked slightly to the side, the very picture of curious innocence. With a faint sigh, he shook his head and spoke, "I can see this probably wasn't the best time to have this little chat, perhaps later when you're sober, we can pick up where we left off."
I knew it wasn't a question so much as a statement, but damn my big mouth, I answered anyway, "Now wait just a minute," it was getting harder to fight the heaviness of my eyelids, "how do I know this isn't just some plot to disarm me and then kill me once I let my guard down? And if this isn't a plot, which I highly doubt, how would I even find you to, as you put it, 'pick up where we left off'?"
He studied me again silently for a second, though this time I saw he was getting frustrated with me, hell I was getting frustrated with me, but he just exhaled noisily and pushed a hand roughly through his thick black locks. The sound of his sudden exhalation sounded vaguely like a growl and he muttered darkly about something a kin to 'stupid drunk negotiations' though it sounded a lot like an nugatory monologue about socks.
He looked at me again and I met his irate gaze, "Just believe me when I say that you're not going to die anytime soon. Not by my hands anyway...Be patient and vigilant, don't try to find me, I'll find you. It's less complicated that way. Oh and you would do well to keep this as our little secret." His tongue seemed to pop the sound of the "t" at the end of "secret".
I'm not entirely sure what made me concede but for some reason, I just gave him a curt nod and fixed him with a weary look.
He seemed satisfied because his posture relaxed slightly, making him look a little less imposing, and chuckled slightly. It was much softer than the cynical bark from before, though the sound was just as dry and rough. "You're not afraid of the big bad wolf and I'm not entirely sure if it's because you're brave or just stupid. Though I would hardly think you to be stupid Ms. Havens, your evident lack of fear is unwise."
With that he moved just a bit closer and leaned forward, bringing his lips in line with my ear. I barely heard the whispered adieu as I was distracted by his hot breath and surprisingly soft lips making contact with the sensitive skin.
I gasped faintly and this seemed to amuse him as he directed that irksome smirk at me then dipped his head slightly in a mock bow and walked passed me to the front door.
I heard the lock click but I couldn't bring myself to move just yet. I took a few steadying breaths then finally found it in me to move. As I walked through the apartment I pondered lightly on what people say about break-ins, like how they feel that their space has been violated or how the air feels laced with evil and as I changed into my pyjamas, I thought about how I didn't feel any of those things.
I had tucked myself in and was still thinking about it when it occurred to me that despite breaking into my apartment and antagonising me, he was an almost perfect gentlemen, never once raising his voice, and calling me by my title and surname, kind of like an associate would.
I'll need to tell him to stop calling me "Ms. Havens" the next time we meet... That seemed to be my last cognitive thought before darkness claimed me.
