chapter nine. what's there in a name: mercedes is the daughter of a popular senator and sebastian is a lawyer, despite their affiliation, mercedes opposes her father's legislation and her disobedience ruins outside relationships, past and present. the couple have chemistry more than anyone else, but they are not together, and they never will, because they always fall in love with each other at different times. dystopian fiction
Scribbling in a well-used notebook, about a well-discussed topic, Mercedes allowed her consciousness to drift from the judicious and pragmatic talk flooding her dining room, her own home foreign to her during the present dinner. The city outside her doors was well beyond her own control, but within the brick and panel house, she imagined that her ideas ruled supreme. The conflicting principles occasionally shared by her mother were always met with mutual understanding and general acceptance, her father was a quiet man, a moveable and convincible force who would begin a war if only to avoid one. Confrontation with him was evitable, and as far as Mercedes's siblings, they were there and gone too quickly for any substantial information to be passed between. It wasn't until varying forces made their presence in the home that Mercedes felt unsafe behind her own doors, a deeper crevice into the abode her sanctuary. Unsettling comments convinced the young woman to excuse herself from the guests' occupation, Mercedes drifted from the dining hall to the quiet balcony overlooking the nearby lake.
She had only been writing for a few minutes before the door to the balcony was open and shut loudly, and though her back was turned to the entrance, she knew the man.
"I grow tired of these society dinners,' Sebastian dragged out. "I came to see you."
"Pity,' Mercedes began, looking over her shoulder onto the shadowed gentleman. Dark hair that had grown past its usual length, pushed behind his ears, a pair of thin framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. A black sweater and blue jeans completed the 'off duty lawyer' look for Sebastian, a bright patterned jacket tying the outfit together stood on a coat hanger in the home's lobby. Despite his attractiveness, the way his teeth grazed his bottom lip before he spoke, the tightness in the sweater around his chest, the string of hair that floated mischievously onto his forehead, Mercedes could resist. Something in his smirk, detachment in his words, malevolence in his gait, and deceitfulness in his gaze pushed the young woman further and further away from the young man. "I hate for you to have wasted your time."
He shook his head and drifted slowly to his unmotivated partner, sitting lousily next to her on the low outside couch. Mercedes turned closer to face him, Sebastian leaning back onto his forearms. The backless seat allowed Mercedes a quick exit from the conversation, Sebastian little time to retrieve her if she drifted to one of the balcony's side doors. The spacious area simulated a roofless sunroom, a central double door conjoined the patio-like balcony, two single doors on the right and left allowed less romantic entrance and exit. A rug and a number of small tables littered the area, while a grand, marble railing prohibited the accidental fall from Eden. In the center of the balcony was a low, patterned seat with arms for lounging, a retrieve for Mercedes, the spot where most of her inspiration met dainty notebooks. Her feet touched the ground facing the blue pond, Sebastian faced the Hellenic door, but they looked at each other.
"My feelings for you haven't changed,' his fingers trailed her own. "I still care for you."
Mercedes flushed red under the moon's light, her long dark hair falling long past her parted mouth and tilted chin. How do you want me? A long, black dress covered most of her body, a red scarf (matching her cheeks) tied loosely around her neck swooped past the strings from her gray, fleece jacket that she pulled the sleeves on heavily. Gazing between his hazel eyes, Mercedes stood finally, running a hand against the balcony before approaching one of the meager doors. "You don't care about me, Sebastian. You care about my father's influence. And your own ambition."
Her back to the man, Mercedes could not see how swiftly he bounded from his relaxation, she only felt the gravity of his hands tight around her wrist, pinned on her side as he cornered her. Letting go once his intention was succeeded, his hands remained at her sides, his face turned in a snarl. "You know me?"
Mercedes scoffed, not bothering to writhe from underneath the man or his showmanship. She dared look him in his hollow eyes, his countenance drooping thereafter and his gaze making quick acquaintance with the ground.
"I know where you were today, the riot. I could have you arrested, do you know that?"
"I would have it so, I would do it again."
Bringing a shaking hand to his jaw, Sebastian ran his outspread palm along his face before looking into the woman's eyes smugly. He prayed momentarily that no one would walk past the windowed doors, not that he feared anyone in the home would question him with damaging authority. "Of course, of course⦠You feel so strongly for my injustices, yet you feel nothing for me."
"Anymore,' Mercedes pushed out curiously, pushing the man closer to a confession. She hadn't heard the lash of a kind word out of the young man in years, she took the opportunity heavily. He flattered to remind her often that his feelings remained, though she never offered much room for explanation nor did he attempt to elaborate on what feelings he possessed.
Sebastian laughed shortly, and Mercedes quickly realized that he would remain unforthcoming, and with her unwillingness to grovel or beg for a friendly touch, they would remain unmoved. Shifting past his lifted arm, Mercedes gathered her composure and made her way to the other door.
"I think you should go."
"You're right,' Sebastian agreed smugly. "I will, undoubtedly, be seeing you soon."
