"I'm A Sociopath, Sweet Serial Killer. On The Warpath, 'Cause I Love You Just A Little Too Much." - Lana Del Rey; Young And Beautiful.
"It rains so much here," she mumbled softly, eyes dancing over the grey but beautiful city, one she had only ever dreamed of seeing with her own eyes, "I always thought that it was just a stereotype for it to constantly rain in England."
"Is it not a stereotype to constantly snow in Russia, little one?"
"Only in the winter, we have summers."
"As does England, unfortunately we have visited at a rather inconvenient season."
The apartment that Bane had provided for Vesper for the remainder of their stay in London was a luxury she had not indulged in with him until now, it was either shacks in villages with unbearable heat, or abandoned warehouses in the freezing snow. This was all new to her, and her blue eyes marvelled in it, he had generously splashed out in the top floor of a penthouse, the two of them left completely alone, and she had yet to see Barsad or Olga since arriving there. The windows extended from ceiling to the floor, leaving the view of the city a breath taking one.
From the House of Parliament to the London Eye, every iconic attraction here was visible, along with the greying skies and constant rain, but Vesper found it relaxing, peaceful even. For unless it was nightfall she was left alone for most of the time, Bane running whatever errands he kept secret from her, or in the study where he poured over blueprints and maps.
"No, not an inconvenience … I find it beautiful."
Her accented voice was distant as she continued to stare at the window from her position on the floor, legs bare and crossed, a book placed within her lap as she leaned against Bane's right leg, dressed in one of his jumpers. He himself sat on the couch, leaning forward and reading his own book, his being non-fiction, one of his large hands outstretching to rest on the back of her neck, squeezing slightly in what she assumed to be some form of agreement.
And quite possibly out of pleasure of her observation; seeing the beauty within something ugly to the naked eye.
It remained there for only a few moments, before his hand retracted, and her eyes pulled away from the view, returning to the book in her lap, toes curling within the softness of the rug for warmth. She still found it slightly uncomfortable to settle within such luxury, she felt almost ashamed for enjoying it so much, but questioned why she should in the first place. If anything she deserved a small piece of wealth, of travel and wonders and discovering new worlds. She had Bane to thank for that.
"In the morning I leave for a few days."
"A few days?"
Bane nodded despite Vesper's back facing him, and he closed the book slowly, the sound echoing slightly in the silence between the two and the emptiness of the apartment. She turned her head to face him, watching as he placed the book on the pale creamed couch he sat on beside him, proceeding to stand shortly after.
"Barsad will be accompanying me, along with a few others; I'll have Olga join you here along with an escort. You can use those few days to explore. In the next weeks, we will be moving for the last time."
She nodded in understanding, eyes remaining on his cold ones, "I read that Camden is nice."
"Indeed it is little one," he nodded in agreement, extending his hand once more in aid of helping Vesper up onto her feet, " it's becoming late, come."
She took the hand he offered, standing and quickly leading the way to the bedroom, barely acknowledging Bane's detour to his study, for she was used to it by now. It wasn't a regular occurrence, but one she did expect now and again when Bane was present. Her new normal per say; the memories of her working in a bar by night, and sleeping in her one bedroom apartment by day had become a distant memory, almost as if it were a dream. No more could she tell whether she missed it or not, missed the life she had with the very few friends she knew.
But was it really a life? Was what she was enduring now a life?
She continued to collect questions that she had no answer to, drifting through life no longer knowing who she was, yet admittedly held no qualms to it. Not yet anyway.
Settling into the sheets, body relaxing on one of the most comfortable mattresses she had ever had the opportunity to experience, her eyes begun to slowly close, the distant sound of the grandfather clock in Bane's study lulling her to sleep.
When she awoke, it was with a start, clattering and smashes echoing through the hall and into her room. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Vesper sat up, focusing her hearing as a yawn escaped her lips, and sweat lined the back of her head due to sleep, her hair sticking to the back of her neck the slightest bit. Her body became alert as the first yell of anger was heard, and pushing herself out of bed, her bare feet made contact with the cold tiled floor.
She tiptoed, as quietly as she could towards Bane's study, the constant grunts and smashing continuing and becoming louder as she neared it. The door was already open, and peeking her head the slightest bit over the doorframe she witnessed as Bane wreaked carnage on the expensive desk and book cases, smashing them to splinters with one swift blow. His mask absent, but Vesper managed to make out where it was, amidst the splinters of woods and papers on the floor, his large case of IV's and used syringes not too far. Broken bottles of morphine littered the floor, it was a health hazard throughout the entire room, but despite it Vesper still took a step into the room, softly muttering Bane's name; her attempt to calm him.
"Bane," she took more steps forward, his back facing her as she hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, "Ban-"
His reflexes far too quick for her to anticipate resulted in the twist of her arm, a hand circling around her neck in a chocking hold as she was thrown into the already damaged bookcase, being held up against it as his eyes darted in anger towards her own.
"It's me," she choked out, feeling his hand loosen just enough for her to breathe, the pain of the splinted shelves behind her digging into her back, "It's only me."
His gaze never faltered, the murderous intent within the greyness was one that was always present, but it wasn't directed towards her. He breathed heavily through his nostrils and mouth, the tendons in his neck protruding and his stance tenser than she had seen in a long time. He was in pain.
"It takes too long," he growled out, his voice instilling fear right into her core, "it takes too long to work. I need more. I need more than morphine. I will not be a cripple. I will not be weak."
Finally, she begun to understand, she begun to hear the strain in his voice as he attempted to ignore the pain that was coursing throughout his body, he was violent to numb the pain. She had guessed it months ago, that the morphine was beginning to lack in effect, that he needed to take more in order to be without the mask for more than a day or two, that it now to longer to take effect despite the life threatening amount he took. His overwhelming fear of not being the invincible monster he was had begun to seep through, and was expressed through violence.
The hand that held Bane's wrist to stop him from choking her was removed, and instead was placed on his neck, her small fingers caressing his skin as she simply stared, knowing words were unnecessary and futile. With the sharp edges of broken wood continuing to dig into her back, she placed her other hand on his neck, the soft skin of her fingers rubbing circles into his skin, attempting to pull him the slightest bit closer. Only he didn't budge, not even an inch, and continued to stare.
"It's me." She said once more, firmer this time.
The hand wrapped around her neck was gone, switching to the roots of her hair, grabbing hold of them and pulling her forward in only a short few seconds. Bane's lips engulfed her own, the yanking of her hair never ceasing, and this was something she could admit to being familiar with, for Bane had become accustomed to pulling on her hair when he needed to be intimate, and she no longer felt the pain in it. He pulled hard, her head being pulled back as he bit harshly against her neck and collar bone, causing Vesper's eyes to flutter shut as she allowed herself to revel in it. He stopped only once, and that was to move her, pushing her down onto the floor and pulling the jumper she wore apart, leaving her pale skin bare, and she responded by pulling at his own shirt.
Watching as Bane noticed her positive response to his roughness, he bit down on her neck, body looming over hers, glass and splinters digging into her back once more as she lay on the floor, no doubt drawing blood.
He had come to need her, to need her solace and softness, for it was behaviour he had never experience or been the receiver of at any point in his life. Not from family or from Talia, this was his sanctuary, his release, and he intended on owning it until the end.
And it was in that moment, with glass digging into her back, and her skin on fire from the bruises and bites Bane marked upon her skin, that this was the most alive she had felt in her entire existence.