Warning(s) Slight description of gore/animal death.
NOTE: I found out recently that I really, REALLY like Micah!
Please enjoy :)
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Thunder roars over the hills, beyond the dark horizon.
Nearby bullfrogs cry and the sparkling of lightning bugs shines sweetly in the cool air.
Micah holsters his revolver and looks over his shoulder at Mary-Beth, who is still pretty upset about Micah taking down an injured doe not too far from camp. He made her watch it suffer. He even held her by the shoulders and forced her in place after having it gutted. Mary-Beth is such an innocent soul and Micah is Lucifer himself, doing all he can to break her whenever they're together.
The smell, the tangy, metal smell of the dead animal, and the sad, soulless look in its glazed eyes continue to ravage her senses.
She will never forget what she saw. Her nose will never be able to smell the roses like it had before.
The roaring thunder becomes violent and for a second, with the sudden flash of lightning blowing up the night sky, Mary-Beth swears she saw the Devil in Micah's blood-spattered clothing.
"You will see the world through my eyes,"
The blond-haired outlaw says to Mary-Beth who has just fallen to the soft ground, holding back whimpers with nothing but her hand. Micah stands above her and cracks a victorious smile as his blue eyes graze upon her. He has her exactly where he wants her. He will make a real woman out of her yet!
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Algernon's garden house
.
Bonnie is leaving Saint-Denis in a few days to return home and Algernon hasn't been able to think clearly. He has been eating more than he ever has in earlier years and he doesn't know what to do. His courtship with Bonnie is going ever so strong but he can't help but feel terrible about what is going to happen.
Algernon is finishing up another commission for one of his regular customers and he is alerted by the ring of the bell above the front entrance. He doesn't move from his spot though or even looks away while holding a pin in his teeth, busy with both hands.
"I will be right with you," Algernon welcomes the customer, very unaware of who it really is.
He takes the pin from his mouth, keeping his main focus on the hat before him, and ends up striking his hand with the pin. He jerks at the sudden pain and flicks his wrist.
"Oh damn you!" he isn't quiet when he spits out the mild profanity and turns to apologize to his customer but he is dead silent when his eyes meet those of Bonnie's.
He smiles the kind smile that Bonnie loves and wanders over toward her. They both share something intimate in this moment and Algernon reaches out with his uninjured hand for Bonnie's. His hand is warm and comforting. Not sweaty or clammy. The sweet scent of miscellaneous flowers welcomes Bonnie again as well as the strong aroma of warm, vanilla chai.
Her senses are fluttering alongside her fluttering heart. Her freckled cheeks are flushed deep rogue and Algernon licks his full lips.
Her eyes are full of life and beauty. Strength and bravery. She's such a young woman who holds a very old soul within her. Her azure eyes look up into Algernon's emerald ones and he can feel the tension of this moment climb his neck and rest upon his cheeks.
He completely forgets about the little pinprick on his hand from minutes ago and swallows anxiously. He can feel the emotions high in the air around them and it's a wonderful feeling but also bittersweet at the same time.
Bonnie smiles and shuffles forward with her hands still holding onto Algernon's. His temperature is rising and she can feel it in his palm.
"May I kiss you?"
Algernon asks politely as ever, his everyday, delicate voice soft and sincere as he is quick to lose Bonnie's eyes. She's shy and it definitely shows on her cheeks and the fluttering of her heart turns into unwanted pounding.
Space shared between them is now more silent and hotter than it's ever been before. Algernon furrows his brow and is gentle when removing his hand from Bonnie's. He brings his eyes across the room, over Bonnie's shoulder, and turns away, nervously fixing his monocle. He needs to make his true feelings for her known and the only way he will be able to do so is if he were to give her a kiss.
Maybe it is too soon.
He stands with his back to Bonnie, who is now drowning in a wave of mixed emotions.
She's only ever kissed one man. Honest to God's truth. As beautiful and as young as she is, there weren't many men she was willing to lock lips with. Algernon Wasp though is a different kind of man.
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Lemoyne Territory
.
It's been a month since the Rhodes incident.
Arthur and Bonnie have built an unlikely kind of friendship between each other on that day. He doesn't know much about her, except for the fact that she will be leaving Lemoyne Territory in just a few days.
Dutch had only asked about Bonnie once since then and Arthur hopes to whatever kind of God sits high above, that it stays that way. She is young and Arthur is old. Their friendship shouldn't even be considered a thing but it is. They are nothing alike, but they shared a deep and intimate moment; Arthur had saved her from the hands of filthy, ravenous men but also bought her a warm meal and somehow had enough money in his satchel to buy her a new outfit.
She trusted him. For some strange and ridiculous reason, Bonnie trusted Arthur at that moment in time.
He wouldn't dare put her in danger but God only knows that Arthur isn't much of a good-luck kind of man. He was glad for her trust though, nonetheless. He is very thankful for their new found friendship but still pretty floored by it just the same.
The thunder dies down but the violent flashes of lightning continue. Arthur's horse whinnies and snorts during the lightning strikes but with a few soft coos and a couple of strong pats, the animal is calm.
The night air is cooler than usual but not a bother. The drop in temperature has kept much of the bugs away.
Arthur's fist squeezes tighter to the reins and with his rifle secured in his other at his side, the man gives his horse a swift kick in the sides and he's off. The wind begins to pick up and Arthur's eyes get a quick peek at the time on his pocket watch that he is swift to fetch from his breast pocket after slinging his rifle over a shoulder.
It's not even dinner time and the sky is already this dark? There must be one wicked storm on the way.
He barely saw the time on his pocket watch. Now fully aware of the impending storm, Arthur kicks his horse into a fast gallop and the bounding sound of hooves against the earth and the jingling and rattling of metal against metal is hardly enough to the silence the thunder above.
Miscellaneous leaves smack Arthur in the face but he doesn't pay much attention to them. The darkness is making it hard enough to ride quickly in the wind storm. He doesn't want to become distracted by leaves next.
Fauna of all kinds scatters rampantly, from the left and to the right and back to the right again. He is certain he had trampled a few confused rabbits just as the wind began to pick up but not much he can do. He has got to make it back to Clemons Point before the storm hits hard. The first drop of rain and he will be ultimately fucked. Kicking his mount a bit more and patting its neck after doing so, Arthur squints as if it's going to help him see better through the darkness and the mass of leaves that keep smacking him in his face
He is close to losing his hat in the wind.
The cool air sneaks through his long locks and just before it snags away his hat, the outlaw slaps a large hand over the top of his head to keep the piece of leather from becoming lost forever.
.
Micah has become frustrated with the wind and the sudden pitch blackness of the world around him but he doesn't stay like that for long. He is smart enough to pack up a few important things before leaving camp.
Mary-Beth is on the ground, her skirt dirty and her bare arms cold. Micah removes his lantern from the side of his saddle and pulls out a box of matches from the saddlebag.
With his hand still rummaging through the saddlebag, Micah smiles to himself when his fingers bump into two small glass bottles of booze. At least now he has a drinking partner. The man removes the two glass bottles from the saddlebag with his other hand and turns to Mary-Beth, tossing one her way.
It's a perfect toss. She feels it sink down into her skirt and grabs it. She can't really see it, well not until Micah lights the lantern.
"I don't want this," the young woman says, holding up the amber liquor-filled bottle.
Micah turns away from his whinnying horse and stands at Mary-Beth's side, looking down at her. He brings forward the lantern, which fills the space between him and the girl. He can see her more clearly now and she can most definitely see him in all of his frightening glory.
He sets down their only source of light without question and removes his leather jacket. Mary-Beth curiously watches Micah remove his jacket and he kneels over to take back the lantern.
"Stop your whining," Micah grumbles and tosses his jacket and she instantly is met by the heat of it as it crumples over her.
The smell of tobacco and funk floods Mary-Beth's nose but she silently accepts Micah's unexpected gift. She slides her cold arms into the warm sleeves and once over her shoulders, she can feel the weight of the material. She draws her gaze up and stares at the man beside her. His features are devilish in the wavering light of the lantern and she watches him take a guzzle from his booze bottle.
More snaps of lightning in the distance and some rolling thunder bring a worry to Mary-Beth's mind and watching Micah drink doesn't help at all. It's so dark and cold and Dutch is going to eventually wonder where they are.
"Drink up, woman," the scruffy outlaw more than suggests; he practically threatens as he continues to down his own drink.
Mary-Beth isn't a drinker, not of wine, and definitely not of whiskey or anything close to it.
Micah tosses his empty bottle over his shoulder, lets out a wild man belch, and peers over at Mary-Beth who is still sitting on the ground like a frightened pup. It is very pleasing to see the young girl so obedient without him even having to tell her anything but Micah's got something else for her to do now.
"Get up!"
He barks and the flame inside the lantern begins to die. Micah is on top of lighting another match and he slides it inside the lantern. It's alive again and this time brighter than before. The flame is surely not going to last long again if Micah keeps on swinging it around.
Mary-Beth groans as she reluctantly obeys the outlaw and drops the bottle of booze, crossing her arms. He sneers at her and steps in front of her. Their eyes meet and she smells the alcohol on him. It's nasty and she scrunches her face but Micah doesn't like the expression and takes a sudden hold of Mary-Beth's chin with a dirty hand. His skin is rough and calloused as well as speckled in dried animal blood and old sweat.
He is a nasty man.
His stark blue eyes examine the entirety of her currently flushed face and he licks his lips. His expression is angry but it slowly fades into something softer.
Micah doesn't say another word and hums as he brings his mouth to Mary-Beth's, enjoying the flavor their collided lips make. The girl is stiff and moans out of disgust. Her eyes are shut tight just like they had been during her first forced kiss.
He tastes of pure filth.
Micah lowers the lantern and sets it down at their feet. The array of sounds Mother Nature continues to make keeps Mary-Beth scared. Her chin is sore under Micah's grip and he cocks his head to deepen the already awkward and unwanted kiss. Mary-Beth doesn't want this, but there is a sudden twinge in her warm lips and Micah notices. His free hand draws up and he tenderly cups the back of the young woman's head. Mary-Beth is awfully surprised by his gentle action but it doesn't last long.
His dirty fingers dig into her scalp and he pulls on her already disheveled hair. The soft cries of her hairs breaking hurt her deeply. She has been growing out her hair for years only for Micah to rip it out?
His eyes open and he forces their lips apart with a hot puff of his warm breath in her face. His grip in her hair is strong and secure. The man chuckles as if he had just won some kind of torturous game, looking at Mary-Beth's throat which is now exposed.
"You'll learn to enjoy this,"
.
Algernon's garden house
.
The sky is black. How?
It's not even that late at night. The rumbling of the skies brings a lot of worry to Bonnie but with Algernon close, she doesn't let it bother her too much.
Bonnie sits close to Algernon, who is sitting not so comfortably in one of his twin Victorian upholstered chairs in the family room. The family room is slightly bigger than his bedroom but not by much. His washroom is the smallest room in his house and the coziest.
A small fireplace keeps Bonnie and Algernon warm for the time being. There is definitely a wicked storm approaching and the blackness in the sky is the first telltale sign of something wicked for sure.
The wind is rough and it vibrates against the windows. Algernon is trying his hardest to focus on the fashion catalog in his hands but with Bonnie worrying and her constant back and forth to the window and chair, he lets the catalog stay closed on his lap and he brings his other foot to the floor. He wants to kiss her so bad. So very badly and hold her to let her know she will be safe.
Moving the catalog to the small table between the twin chairs, where a decorative lamp sits, Algernon stands up and is careful while entering Bonnie's space near one of the windows.
The smell of lavender sitting nearby on one of Algernon's many bookshelves does the best it can to relax Bonnie but she worries about her father. The worry she's holding for her father is stronger than any kind of calm her mind is aching for.
"You must relax, Bonnie," Algernon says softly to the young woman, breaking the silence that she had built around herself.
His hands are crossed at his lower back and he steps to the right side of Bonnie, hoping she will stop staring out of the window and turn to him. He doesn't want to put his hands on her, oh god no. He wants her to feel safe and comfortable.
Bonnie's eyes drop down to the ledge that her hands are rested on and digs her nails into the perfect white paint. Her forehead crinkles up and without much thought, the young woman turns and winds her arms around Algernon's thin waist. Her face rests just below his sternum and he can feel just how worried she actually is. Algernon's hands are raised halfway and hovering over Bonnie. He is in shock but he knows he can't be in this state for long.
The contact had surprised him but it's totally acceptable.
Algernon swallows and carefully places his hands over Bonnie's upper back. She is short, very short in fact. He doesn't know exactly how to support her.
"Y-you're alright!" Algernon says very quietly this time, lightly patting the young woman's back, not knowing what to do. Algernon's clothes are soft against Bonnie's face and they smell good. Musk and flowers, vanilla and toffee.
Algernon swallows again and uses his hands to pull Bonnie carefully from him but not because of the contact.
"You are safe with me," he says matter of factually, looking down into Bonnie's tired eyes. She shouldn't have such awful bags under her eyes but she does. The wind continues to rattle the windows and this time Bonnie is distracted by Algernon.
She doesn't know why she does it but she grabs one of Algernon's hands, brings it up to her face, and lays a warm kiss upon it.
Algernon is completely in awe.
He smiles fondly at the young girl and slightly tilts his head to one side, slowly gaining back control of his hand. His long fingers open up just a bit and the center of his palm melts into her soft cheek. Bonnie's cheeks turn a delicate shade of rose and she allows Algernon to hold her cheek a while longer.
"I'll get the kettle ready!"
Algernon comments out of the blue, leaving his hand on her cheek. Bonnie smiles a very soft smile, barely visible. She looks at the front of Algernon's decorative violet blazer, which is merely just a different color from his favorite blue one, she examines the golden buttons, the lapels, and the cream-colored scarf at his neck and as she unintentionally sucks in part of her bottom lip, her hands creep up and make their way to his chest.
Oh dear god, what is she doing? She has no clue what she is doing, yet she's not stopping herself.
Algernon just blinks his eyes at her and licks his lips. He is subtle when he licks his lips and removes his hand from Bonnie's face. The soft, thick, yet satin-like material of his outfit is calming and her face burns even redder.
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Clemons Point
.
Arthur arrives back at camp.
The gang is all huddled close together, inside Dutch's tent. His tent is the only well-made and more secure one around here. Arthur dismounts his horse while keeping one hand over his head to keep his hat from catching in the wind and his other hand on the reins. He leads the large animal over to the others, who are also close by Dutch's tent.
The wind is wicked and so is the crackling thunder and lightning in the black sky. Arthur is the final member to make his way back to camp. Everyone else is either sitting inside the tent or right outside it watching the storm.
Dutch doesn't make a fuss of Arthur's return. He just stands outside with a burned-out cigar hanging from his lip and one hand over his hat. He's keeping a good eye on the incoming storm. Wildlife is crazy and the horses are snorting like mad. Charles is by the horses to keep them calm and Arthur wanders over to him and eyes the storm. The lanterns of the camp wave in the wind. Sure it is wicked but not mad enough to blow their belongings away.
"Mother Nature is furious," Charles says out loud and Arthur nods his head in agreement, holding down his hat.
Arthur thinks about what is to happen. He also thinks about Bonnie, but briefly. He does hope that she is safe but he can't worry too much for her. He has a whole gang of people to worry about. He catches himself wondering when the next time he will see her again will be; he can't help that.