It took Genevieve a few moments to process Two-Face's words. Stay with him? First he was threatening to blow her head off, and now he was deciding to keep her around? He really was as unpredictable as she had heard, but she couldn't say that she liked this turn of events, regardless of her survival. She desperately wanted to get some answers, but she found herself reluctant to say anything else, especially after her near-death experience.
When she made her way through the door (courtesy of Skelter's excessive pushing), she found herself to be in complete darkness. Before she could even attempt to analyze her surroundings, she received another sharp shove from the large man, and she nearly tripped over what felt to her like a stair step.
"Take it easy," she heard Two-Face say sternly from in front of them. She bit her lip. What did he care if she fell? He was going to doom her anyway; it'd definitely be an easy way to get rid of her without having to consult his coin. She shuddered at her own thoughts. She didn't like thinking this way, but in this situation like this, she couldn't help but be bleak.
After what felt like ten minutes, they finally reached the bottom of the stairwell. She felt the grip loosen around her arms as Skelter decided to finally let her go, and she jerked herself away from his hands aggressively. Normally, she was terrified of him, but for some reason, having Two-Face around made her more daring. It was probably because he seemed just as annoyed by Skelter as she was.
Skelter only laughed at her reaction and ruffled her hair with something akin to twisted affection. She grimaced. Could this man spend a living moment without touching her somehow?
"Well, I'm sure it's not like anything you're used to," she heard Two-Face say, totally disregarding the tense exchange that was just held behind him, "but, regardless… I'd like to welcome you to what I call 'home'." Genevieve held her breath as he opened the door, and she imagined what the next room would have in store for her. If the outside of the building gave her any hint of what the interior looked like, she really didn't want to become acquainted with it. Besides, what she would be seeing next would be where she was going to be held against her will, and finally coming to meet her prison would set her fate in concrete, making it official that all of this was painfully real.
She walked into the room, and the undeniable texture of carpet made itself known beneath her shoes.
"Let me get the lights," Two-face said lightly. She heard a flick, and all of the lights turned on at once, illuminating the large room.
Her lips parted in wonder, yet her fear increased ten fold.
The room was gorgeous. It was spacious, with a grand, white chandelier hanging from its high ceiling, its bright crystals sparkling against the light. The walls were adorned with various paintings, and the floor was composed of many glossy wooden planks graced by furniture of the same expensive nature. She looked down and realized that what she was standing on was not a carpet, but a very ornate rug, its pattern beautiful and intricate. She almost felt guilty for standing on it with her shoes on. Why did his home have to be so lovely? She should have figured that he could afford it—he was a very successful criminal, after all. However, she found herself having a great difficulty admiring the room for very long, because her current predicament flooded back to her like a punch in the gut. Two-Face's steady voice only furthered her anxiety.
"We're pretty far underground," he said. "But I don't really notice when I'm down here. By the way, I never caught your name…" She could feel him walking towards her, and she debated whether she wanted to look up or not. Half of her was terrified of seeing him in clear light, while the other half was desperately curious to see the face that regularly struck fear into the citizens of Gotham. She tempted herself to look at him clearly for the very first time. She lifted her gaze to meet his own, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was surreal, to be seeing this man with her own two eyes. On his right, she saw Harvey Dent, the young, handsome man who had once been a major threat to the various crime lords and crooks of Gotham City. His smooth, dark brown hair matched the color of his eye, which looked so intense that she was almost sure she would have blushed if it weren't for the other side of his face.
The features on his left were so terrifyingly grotesque that she found herself averting her gaze back towards the carpet. His flesh was red, raw, and scarred beyond belief. The worst part of it to her, however, was the state of his eye. It bulged out unnaturally from its burned socket, the same dark hue of his other pupil inhabiting it. She couldn't recall much more detail, because her eyes were very reluctant to look up again. She heard him sigh warily before he spoke once more.
"I can tell that you're not going to talk to me, and I suppose I really can't blame you for that." Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him walk towards a door connected to the room they were in, and he turned the knob. "This will be your room from now on. I'm afraid I don't have any clothes for you to sleep in tonight, but I'll make sure someone picks up your things from your home tomorrow."
Her things. So this was it. She was going to be living with the infamous Two-Face, far underground, with no means of escape. She began to feel her knees shake, and she wondered how she had ever ended up there in the first place. The rest of the night seemed like a blur to her now that she was stuck there, her whole life flipped upside down. She willed herself to speak, but still didn't will herself to look back up into the man's eyes.
"Why are you keeping me here?" She asked, her voice trembling on every word. She was on the brink of tears. When wasn't she, these days?
"So I don't get my ass thrown in jail, that's why," she heard from behind her. She jumped. She completely forgot that Skelter was there. She was too preoccupied with her new living arrangements to even consider the fact that he may just be staying there, too. Is that what accomplices do? Live in their bosses' hideouts? The idea made her feel even more sick to her stomach.
"We can't let it slip that he opened the lock to my cell. His services are too valuable, what with him working in Arkham, and I can't take any risks." Two-Face said matter-of-factly as he walked away from her room. "Besides, you know my location, so letting you go now is definitely out of the question."
With every reminder of her incapacitation, she became increasingly dizzier and dizzier. She couldn't be held there. She wouldn't be. She clenched her fists and decided that her last option would be to hold her hands together and beg.
"Why can't you just let me off with a warning?" she pleaded helplessly. She decided to look at him again for added effect, and she couldn't help but wince as his disfigured eye rested on her. "I promise I won't say anything. Threaten to kill me if I do, I don't care… just please, let me go!" Her voice broke on the last word. She felt stinging tears pool beneath her eyes, but she refused look away from him.
She felt a hand grab her shoulder, and Skelter's deep, slimy voice made her want to retch. "Ol' Two-face doesn't want you to go because he hasn't had a lady down here in a long time." He rubbed her arm significantly, and it took all her effort to prevent herself from elbowing him in the stomach. "I really can't blame him… with a girl like you stumbling down in front of hi-"
"Enough," Two-face said sternly, his gaze now directed at the man behind her. "Don't you think it's about time you go home? " Genevieve felt the heavy weight on her shoulders lighten ever so slightly. At least that pig wouldn't be around.
Skelter let go of her shoulders and walked towards Two-Face, obviously angry. "What about my cash? Did you think I would do all of this for nothing?"
Two-Face calmly pulled the coin out of his pocket and held it between his fingers, examining it idly as he spoke. "You'll get your money, just not tonight. Now go home and take your trash with you."
Skelter's mouth was held agape, his eyes furious. He gave the man one long look before he stalked towards the door, and before he walked through, he turned to look at her again without reserve. She shivered, and he slammed the expensive wood behind him.
Two-Face turned his gaze away from the door and resorted to looking at her instead. The silence in the room was awkward, and she really didn't know what to do next. She wanted to lock herself into the room he had offered her, but she couldn't will herself to move while he was in her presence.
"I didn't get an answer earlier, " he said, still holding the coin in his hand. "If you're going to be staying here, I'd like to at least know what to call you." There was kindness in his eyes, and it confused her. What was wrong with this man? On one hand he was holding her hostage, cruelly keeping her away from her own life and forcing her into his without hesitation. On the other, however, he seemed polite, calm, and obviously didn't approve when his henchmen ogled her. This man was an enigma, and if it weren't for her current predicament, she would be more than willing to explore his unorthodox personalities.
She tried her best to wipe her eye nonchalantly, before deciding to humor him. She wasn't sure how long his hospitality was going to last, after all.
"Genevieve," she said quietly.
"Now that's a name you don't hear everyday," he said. He smiled, and it disconcerted her deeply. He gave her one nod towards her bedroom, and he walked across the room to another door, shutting it behind him. She only assumed that the room was where he slept, and the thought bothered her. Under the same roof as Two-Face, she was expected to sleep. As she stood there, now alone, she realized that slumber wasn't going to reach her any time soon.
