Raven could still feel the golden gaze that was nearly glued to her as she stared out the window. She wasn't necessarily irritated by the strange Puppeteer man. More like she was irritated with herself. You should be. He was a creation of her mind, one that was surprisingly impressive. Then again, it just made her feel even more pathetic. To think she was down low enough to create a being to talk to. Someone to communicate with. Someone to actually be there. Her frown deepened, her heart beating a dull drone. What he had offered made it even more depressing, she had to say.
"Doesn't it get boring?" she murmured, after just a small amount of time. Her back was growing stiff from sitting in that same chair for hours on end.
"What, my dear?" he shot right back, his velveteen voice ever so warm. So inviting, so fresh. She shook her head, noticing how he didn't miss a beat.
"Standing there. Not leaving, not saying a word, and most importantly, not sitting. Your legs must be aching," she retorted, her irritation towards herself growing. The mere fact that she was entertaining this was close to agonizing.
"Not in the slightest. I seem to be quite content-are you not?" he responded. Even though his outdated, proper words flowed with the gentleness of a butterflies wings, their double meaning burned like a snake's venom.
"A blind man could see that," she spat back, almost regretting the fierceness of her tone. Almost. "You seem to be thriving off of it, Puppeteer. Is this your enjoyable pass time? Watching the suffering of others?" she continued, her dark eyes burning as she stared out at the snowy weather.
A slight tut sounded from him, as she nearly heard the shake of his head. "Not quite, silly girl. If it were not for that brazen attitude you possess, you may possibly see that my intentions are solely pure. I only wish to help," he placidly rebuked, causing a thick coat of red to fill her cheeks.
His words, so well rehearsed it seemed. What time could he have been from, she wondered. And how could it possibly be her creation when she did not speak this way? Sure, her words were less modern than others, but this man seemed... as though he was simply not from this time. Or, better yet, he has been around for quite a long time. Biting her lip, she shook the thoughts from her mind. He was a silly creation, no more.
"The only intention you have put forward is to kill me," she snapped. "And believe me, that doesn't exactly lighten my 'brazen attitude', or mood."
His musical chuckle filled the room, warming her bones without her consent. "Pardon me if I came across so brash. I just seemed to notice your displeasure with your current life, and figured I would offer you my assistance."
She let out a throaty laugh before he was even finished. Her imagination was on a roll this day. "You are an interesting one, I'll give you that. A kind, gentlemanly being saw that I was unhappy and offered to kill me. How nice."
"I suppose if you put it in that crude of a manner, yes. I also informed you that you had time to think the situation over. With whatever you are going through, I shall be here for you throughout it all. You can speak with me about all of your pains and sorrows, and I can give you the best consultation I can muster. Believe me, dear Raven, hundreds would consider themselves lucky to be in your position." That beautiful voice hummed throughout her ears, calming her heart in a way that no other sound could. Such a awfully strange situation.
"So what, you are my guardian angel?" she snorted, although her guard was slightly lowering. She felt the odd sense that he knew it as well.
"You could say that," he agreed, curtly laughing right after. "I am here, and shall not leave until you send me away. Whether you would like to admit it or not, you need someone to hear you."
"I'm doing fine on my own, thank you," she sniffed, her eyes narrowing as she stared out the window. However, when she did not hear a response from the corner, her heart jolted. "Puppeteer?"
"Doing fine, are we?" he cockily replied, the smirk in his voice causing her to scowl.
"Even my own mind is cruel to me," she growled, shaking her head. She had thought this before, but now it is even more clear.
"Still believe I am your mind's eye?" he chortled, his laugh like the melody of a harp's strings.
"Yes, I do," Raven snapped, standing from her chair. It rocked with a force that nearly had it tumbling backwards. "This is absolutely ridiculous, and I can't tell you-me-how angry I am with myself for even going along with this! Hell, my imagination may be to the point where I've given you a voice, but I can't even see you," she growled, twisting around.
"Are you for certain?" he grinned, mischief lingering in his words. She stared at his bright glowing eyes that seemed to stare into her soul. Not to mention his golden mouth that was tauntingly smiling at her.
"Yes, I am," she stated, crossing her arms. "I can see eyes and a mouth, but what about the rest of you?" she asked, raising her visible brow.
His frown instantly fell, causing triumph to flow within her. The Puppeteer was taken aback, not used to this at all. Not once had any of his victims been so desperate to see him. Not once had they ever challenged him like she has. Hell, most never even cared to see his appearance, nor given a damn whether he was an illusion or not. The ones who had ended up not even caring after a small period of time. But she... she was damned and determined, and he could clearly see that.
"Why does the rest of me matter?" he replied through clenched teeth.
Raven could see that his eyes were begging her to drop the subject entirely. But she did not feel that virtuous this day. "It matters quite a lot, if you ask me," she snorted. "What are you afraid of, Puppeteer? Step on forward and let me see you," she grinned, maliciously.
The malice in her smile caused something within him to burn. The burn, however, was not uncomfortable.
He returned the smile, which held just as much malice as her's had, before stepping forward into the light.
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