Dabi walked through the small corridor between the two apartment houses to the back of the buildings. Her apartment was located on the top floor, back right corner. The fire escape attached to the wall offered a convenient access point. The back of her building was separated by a wide passageway from the back of another building which meant he could scale the fire escape and enter without being seen although it was the middle of the day.
He reached up, grabbing the bottom rung of the ladder to pull it down so he could climb up. He peered into the window from the metal grated landing. She was no where to be seen in the room. A large bed on a square white platform sat against one wall. There was a round glass topped table sitting beside the bed with a small lamp and a book on it. A mirrored make up table like actresses use sat in one corner. A chair that resembled a birdcage hung from the ceiling in the opposite corner.
"Man, this woman really is weird," he mumbled to himself.
Dabi studied the single, ancient flip latch on the inside of the window. Pulling the switchblade knife from his back pocket, he pressed the handle to the space where the top and bottom windows met then extended the blade. It shot up between the windows, pressing against the thumb pad of the latch. The wood of the window rail creaked as he pulled the handle up to push the blade forward. Although the lock was old it was well oiled and slid forward without much effort. He bent the blade of the knife to finally push the latch completely open, but he didn't care. Pressing his palms against the glass in the frame, he pushed up the window to gain entrance into her apartment. Well that was easy.
Briefly he poked around her bedroom, opening the drawers to her make up table and thumbing through the book of poetry on her bedside table. He pushed open one door to find it led to a bathroom with a massive glassed in shower stall big enough for four or five people to take a shower at once. There was a slate gray tiled seat attached to one wall of the shower. Multiple shower heads were pointed to the middle of the large stall. The bathtub could accommodate almost as many people as the shower. The kinky possibilities of this place almost made him blush.
The second door in her bedroom opened into the living room. Minimalist decorating; a white two person couch, two matching chairs, a coffee table and nothing more. All straight, clean lines in the super modern design of the few furnishings. No unnecessary frou frou taking up space and gathering dust. Not what he expected. He had pictured fussy, puffy furniture, eye popping colors, and lots of pointless knick knacks.
A bowl of fruit sat in the middle of the counter separating the sunny yellow kitchen from the living room. Dabi helped himself to a bright green apple. He actually took time to sniff the flowers; a hodge podge of types and colors in a long necked, round bottomed white vase sitting an equal distance between the fruit bowl and the wall of the kitchen. The only other thing on the butter yellow Formica counter top were a few pieces of mail.
Dabi thumbed through the envelopes while he munched on the pilfered apple. A power bill and a credit card bill both addressed to Melina Zusa. A piece of junk mail directed to current resident. A letter from...a lawyer? The return address indicated it came from a place called North Carolina in America.
"Hmmm, very interesting," he muttered through a mouthful of apple.
"Isn't it though?"
Dabi grunted and rolled his eyes. He had not heard her come in. So much for being stealthy, in and out before she knew he had been here.
Slowly, he turned around to see Melina standing behind him. She was dressed in a yellow tank top and high-waisted black short shorts. The only time he had seen her in less clothes was in her waitress uniform. Her legs were short, her thighs thick and muscular. Her skirts, even the short uniform skirt, had hidden most of her thighs. The creamy, milk white flesh appeared as if it would be firm but supple under his hands.
His eyes glided up her body. She wasn't wearing a bra. The hardened nipples of her small but pert breasts pushed at the cotton fabric of her shirt. Nice.
Once again she surprised him. She was not wearing make up. Her eyes appeared to be bigger and rounder without the thick, dramatic lines of black eye liner. Her lips were thinner and a dark pink color under the red, red lipstick she usually wore. A natural pink coloration tinted her cheeks, possibly from the heat of the day. Her hair was slightly disheveled, loose tendrils from her bun hanging down around her face. Not being quite so perfect made her look human rather than like a department store mannequin.
Then he took note of the expression on her face. Oh, shit. She glowered at him so furiously he could almost feel the heat of her glare. Her eyebrows were pinched together but also raised, furrowing her forehead with deep 'what the fuck' lines. Her pink lips had turned white from being compressed into such a hard straight line. Beyond the shadow of a doubt she was extremely pissed.
Rightly so. He had a committed a crime after all, breaking and entering. He figured the only reason she had not hit him was because her hands were full. She held a basket of flowers in one hand and a jar full of a viscous golden fluid in the other.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Are you being serious right now?" she growled, carefully setting the basket and jar on the counter. "You should be telling me what the fuck you're doing here. Or is it exactly what it looks like you're doing?"
"What am I doing here?" he mockingly questioned her, taking another bite of the apple.
"Breaking into my apartment. Stealing my food. Spying on me. Gathering information to run back and tell Shigaraki," she listed, counting each one off on her fingers. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nope. That sums it up." He glanced around the kitchen in search of a trash can in which to toss the core.
"There." She pointed to the cabinet door to the left of the sink. "Compost bin."
"Aren't you environmentally conscious and shit?" He opened the door and took off the lid of the compact plastic bin to toss in the apple core.
"What am I supposed to do with you now?" Melina sighed, leaning wearily against the counter.
"I can think of a few things," he said, moving to the sink.
"What do you want, Dabi?"
"You already know what I want," he said, turning on the faucet to wash his hands.
The hand soap smelled like lemons. The scent matched the color of the kitchen.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to leave," she returned, giving him a withering glare when he turned to face her once more. Her pretty face had transformed into an ugly mask of outrage tempered by the sadness of betrayal in her eyes. "Get out. Go!"
"Are you sure you want me to leave?" He stepped closer to her, expecting her to back away.
In her bare feet, she was several inches, at least half a foot, shorter than him. He loomed over her, looking down at her. She was not the least bit intimidated by the height difference. Her upturned chin rested on his chest as she tilted her head back to stare daggers up at him.
"Get out," she repeated, forcing the words through her tightly clenched teeth.
Instead of leaving, he raised his hand to touch a stray lock of her glossy, coal black hair. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he drew his fingers downward to where the end curled against her chest. Letting go of her hair, he pressed his palm to her chest. Her heart was fluttering madly like a caged bird beating its wings against the bars of her rib cage in search of freedom.
Dabi did not understand her interest in him. Melina had made it obvious in no uncertain terms what she wanted from him. Why did she want him? He had no redeeming qualities, not in looks and certainly not in personality. Despite her bawdy flirtations with him, he regarded her as unattainable, not meant for someone like him. Shigaraki would say her attraction to him was an act anyway.
Although she excelled at being aloof and emotionally unavailable, the golden honey colored eyes he looked into showed a softness, a kindness behind the present blatant, boiling anger. No. She wasn't the person she was pretending to be. Or perhaps her acting skills were top notch. He didn't know, but he meant to find out. He had a mission after all.
Dabi put his arms around her. Her body was warm, soft, and pleasant to hold. He lowered his nose toward her messy hair. Her present slight imperfections in contrast to her typical perfect doll like quality made her appear vulnerable, more human, easily damaged and broken. Inhaling her scent, he picked up the aroma of lavender, mint, and honeysuckle combining into an intoxicating perfume. For the first time in a long time, his heart came alive, thumping disturbingly hard and fast in his chest.
"Tell me to go, and I'll go," he whispered. Her body started to shake prompting him to tighten his arms around her.
"G-go," Melina stuttered, squirming in his arms.
"That's not very convincing. Make me believe you don't want me here, and I'll leave," he taunted her, allowing his lips to brush the outer curve of her ear.
Dabi was not prepared for what happened next. Suddenly, he was roughly shoved backwards. His lower back came into painful contact with the counter top behind him. The back of her hand came crashing across his face with a punishing impact that jerked his head to the side so forcefully an electrical sting of pain jolted down his neck. Damn! She was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked. No damsel in distress here.
Enraged, he lunged forward. Bum-rushing her, ramming his shoulder into her stomach, he folded her over his shoulder. He not only heard but felt the air surge out of her after slamming into her diaphragm. Picking her up like a gigantic sack of flour, he carried her to the bedroom to mercilessly fling her onto the bed. She hit the mattress with an audible 'oof,' the puffy coverlet gathering under her as she slid across it.
Dabi took hold of her ankle, dragging her down to the end of the bed where he stood. She kicked him squarely in the belly making him feel as if he might throw up. Placing his hands on her thighs, he pushed down her wildly kicking legs, pinning them to the mattress. Since her arms were still unhindered, he received powerful slaps and closed fist punches from her.
"Stop it. Stop it!" he yelled. He felt his bottom lip separate and a warm wetness leaked down his chin. "I just want to talk to you!"
This fierce little woman was laying a hurting on him he had not anticipated. His right cheek throbbed where she had slapped him earlier, and she balanced out the pain by slapping him across the left. She did not look capable of such violence or strength. With each stinging smack, every punishing blow, his savagely beating heart sent the blood flowing faster and faster throughout his body diverting it into places it shouldn't be going at the moment.
Dabi panted for air, feeling as if he could not get enough oxygen as he fought to contain the rabid woman. The excitement, the pleasure induced by the pain, became dizzying in its intensity as if a drug had been shot straight into his veins.
Climbing on top of her, he straddled her legs to sit on her thighs. Now that his hands were free, he struggled to seize her flying fists. At last he was able to grasp her wrists. When she flung her arms above her head in her attempt to liberate herself, he fell forward on top of her. Coming nose to nose with her, his chest bearing down on hers and pushing her into the cushy mattress, she finally ceased moving.
All that could be heard was their open mouthed breathing as they fought to supply their deprived lungs with the air they needed. Each time he inhaled, her breasts flattened under his chest. Every exhale lifted him away slightly, allowing her chest to expand thereby keeping her in constant intimate contact with him.
"So now what?! Are you going to rape me?!" she shrieked in her fierce anger. "Torture me to make me tell you everything?! What will you do to me, asshole?!" When he did move but continued staring down at her, she screamed furiously in his face, "Just do it already!"
For the first time during their struggle, she unleashed an untamed scream of fear. She raised her hips in a useless attempt to buck him off. Hot, bitter tears streamed down her cheeks. She continued to pitch and roll her body to try to rid herself of him, all to no avail.
Dabi flexed his thighs to hold onto her hips and pressed his entire weight down on her chest. He lay his arms along the length of hers, pushing them down with all of his strength. Within a minute or two, her body stilled under his. He could only assume she ceased fighting him because she could no longer breathe. Raising his body permitted her to inhale which she did with the vigor of a drowning woman. His forehead dropped onto her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath as well. Melina's mewling sobs along with his ragged breaths were the only sound to be heard in the room.
"If you're going to do it, get it over with," she wept, her voice breaking. She hauled in shuddering breaths that made her chest vibrate under his.
Only two thin layers of cotton material separated them so he could feel her taut nipples against his chest which made it difficult to concentrate on formulating the questions he needed to ask her.
"I'm not going to torture you. And I'm damn sure not going to rape you. You've made it quite clear I wouldn't have to force myself on you if I wanted to have sex with you," he said, sitting up on top of her.
Dabi gazed down at her, his eyes meeting her bloodshot, tear filled eyes. If he had a tender heart, he was sure it would be breaking as he looked at her. His body acted before his brain could control his muscles with rational thought. His fingertips stroked her tear stained cheek to comfort her.
"What do you want?" she demanded through her clenched teeth.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"What does it matter? I'm no one."
"What do you want from Shigaraki?"
"Nothing. There's nothing he can give me that I want or need."
"Are you working with the heroes to entrap us?"
"How dare any of you question my motives and desires? You're bad guys aren't you?!" she shouted in harsh judgment, her lips peeling back from her teeth.
"Who are you to judge anyone? What the hell do you want?!" he yelled at her. "That's all we want to know!"
"Who the fuck cares what anyone one of you wants? Why is he so mistrustful of me when he leads a fucking crime syndicate?"
"Bad guys? Good guys? Heroes and villains? Whose to say which is which?" he questioned her in return, his tone just as venomous as hers. "Is it really that simple?"
"No!" she bellowed, raising the top half of her body and supporting herself on her elbows. "No! It's not that simple. For years I have been hopelessly confused about these things. The so called good guys aren't always truly good. They couldn't save my family! Neither are the bad guys completely bad. There is no such thing as absolute good or evil."
When she reached up to touch him, Dabi dismounted her waist. After she dropped her arm lifelessly onto the bed, he lay down on his back beside her, tired and spent from their altercation both physical and verbal. He closed his eyes, laying his arm over them to totally block out the blinding sun filling the room. The dazzling light was obscene in contrast to the dark interaction happening in the room. For several long minutes, neither one of them said anything.
"What were you doing earlier?" Dabi asked her, personally curious.
"While you were snooping around in my apartment?" Melina retorted.
"Yes," he sighed.
"I have a beehive and a flower garden on the roof. I love the bees, and the flowers bring the bees to me. I make bouquets with the flowers. I harvest the honey to the help them. I use all of the gifts from the bees, not just the honey...the honeycomb, the beeswax, the royal jelly... to make skincare products," she rambled for no apparent reason other than expelling nervous energy.
Dabi allowed her to talk without interruption. He needed a minute to rest anyway.
"There's nothing subversive or even exciting about my intentions. I have no agenda." She waved her arms around helplessly. "There is no grand plan to take down an evil organization. Like I've said before, I'm not a hero or a villain. I'm just me."
Melina sat up, lifting her shirt to below her breasts. She immediately had his undivided attention. The skin across her belly bore wide stripes the same mottled purple coloration and wrinkled appearance of his burn scarred flesh. It looked as if a fire had scratched her, clawing at her rather than covering her completely in an attempt to destroy her entire body. She rolled up onto her hip, showing him her back that bore the same random streaks of marred skin from between her shoulder blades down to the top of her shorts.
He could not help but wonder if the marks covered her behind. She put down her shirt then flopped down onto her back. He wouldn't be finding out today.
"Making creams and lotions to heal damaged skin, to alleviate scars and pain..." Her voice broke and trailed off. She sniffled then continued speaking. "That is my ulterior motive."
"Hmmm," he hummed, folding his arms behind his head. "Then you're really quite boring after all."
"Yeah. I am," she agreed with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Sorry to disappoint."
Melina Zusa didn't disappoint him at all. Their brief but violent scuffle began to replay in his head like a movie. He recalled the breathtaking arousal her vicious attacks had elicited in him. What a stupid thing to be thinking about at a time like this.
Dabi sat up, scooting to the end of the bed to sit up. He should leave. When she moved to sit beside him, he placed his hand on her chin, turning her face to make her look at him. She stunned him by placing her hand on his cheek, her thumb gingerly moving across his split lip. The stinging discomfort made him inhale sharply.
"I'm sorry," she apologized in a low, breathy voice. "I'll get something for that.'
Melina dropped her hand from his face. She leaned forward in preparation to stand up.
No, don't move, he thought.
"Don't go," he said aloud, placing his hand on her thigh to keep her still. Her silky soft skin, her firmly toned muscles, felt as enticing as he thought they would.
"Doesn't it hurt?" Her eyes looked watery with tears again.
"Not all pain is bad," he murmured, his eyes delving deeply into hers. "Sometimes it can be quite pleasurable."
"Oh?" The blush coloring her porcelain white cheeks deepened to a red as red as the petals of poppy flower.
He took her hand in his, raising it back to his face. Using her forefinger, he traced several of the staples embedded his cheek. Her fingers flexed, and she tried to pull away, but he forced her to touch them. Her slightly curled little finger accidentally raked over his sore lip. Hissing again in discomfort, he flinched away from her. Although it hurt, the unexpected shot of pain had sent a delightful burst of bliss coursing through his entire body.
Melina snatched her hand out of his. However, she was not done with her inquisitive exploration of his face. She cautiously touched the silver stud in his right nostril, then the two hoops also piercing his nose. Her fingers drifted across the burn scars on his face and down his neck to the ones on his chest.
"Did it hurt?" she asked.
"Not too much. Once the nerve endings were scorched, I couldn't feel a thing," he answered truthfully. He reached for the hem of her tank top, pulling it upward. His hand roved over her scarred belly that quivered under his fingertips. "Did these hurt?"
"Like a motherfucker," she replied, managing a smile.
"You've got such a damn dirty mouth," he teased, following the shape of her lips with his fingertip. "I like it."
Dabi held his breath as her cool, smooth fingertips cautiously probed the staples along his chest. As much as he liked her violent side, her tender touch definitely had its merits as well. The gentleness of the contact made his heart palpitate, and his breath came in short gasping inhales.
"What is the purpose of these staples? "
"I don't want to talk about it," he sharply snapped, feeling as if he was waking up out of the spell she had cast on him. "I should go."
He had been feeling something - and way too much of that something. Their instantaneous closeness, their unexpected familiarity unnerved him. He had to get away from it, away from her. However, he hesitated, expecting her to protest. He would stay if she asked him to. When his eyes met hers, there was a cold lack of emotion hardening their golden brown color into fossilized amber.
"Then go."
~\..'../~
Melina watched him climb out of her open bedroom window. Once he withdrew his long leg through the window and disappeared from her sight down the fire escape, she lay back on the bed issuing a despondent groan.
What the fuck was that?, she contemplated silently, ignoring the pulsating ache in her arms and legs. She had not engaged in a physical fight in a quite some time. Although tired and sore, she felt exhilarated. He had been brutal, unyielding. Yet when he had embraced her...she tried not to think about how thrilled she had felt being in his arms.
Studying the intricate design of the metal plates attached to the ceiling, she decided she would have to have a nice chat with the owner of the building. This place had its charm, but Dabi's ability to enter so easily set her on edge. It was ridiculous they installed an expensive decorative metal tile ceiling yet the windows were remnants from the long gone era whose fashion statements she favored.
Melina took her fashion cues from her grandmother who dressed like a 1940s Hollywood actress throughout her enter life even being buried in her favorite outfit complete with hat and high heels. Her grandmother had actually been an actress during that time period. Unfortunately, she was never popular, enduring a short, lackluster career stuck mostly in background roles, an extra. Yet she remained the consummate diva, deluded in her own importance. Although her grandmother was certifiably crazy, she loved her dearly. Where she came from, families didn't hide crazy. They dressed up their deranged family member, paraded them on the the front porch for all to see, and called them eccentric should anyone criticize.
Melina recalled Dabi's face as he held her down on the bed using his body to keep her still. His half closed eyes had stared into hers, holding no pity but glittering with overt sexual desire. The half smile tilting up one corner of his mouth showing his sadistic delight in his dominance over her. Seeing him like that had bred a heaviness in the lowest part of her belly, ignited a heat between her thighs.
"Oh, my god," she whispered out loud, closing her eyes. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
Here she lay conjuring up a romantic scenario out of the grappling match with the man who broke into her apartment to spy on her. It was becoming clear to her that she was a bit touched in the head too. Mental illness was hereditary after all. Thanks Granny for your fashion sense and your crazy.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you weren't expecting a sweet, fluffy romance because that won't be happening - definitely a romance of sorts, but definitely not fluffy.
I'm not sure how long it will be before the next chapter because I actually wrote these last two together. By all means, please leave a review. All opinions and thoughts are welcomed and appreciated.
I want to offer my thanks for reviews to maxridelover, Terrance Johnny Stanford, and ScultoneSenpai. It means a lot to me that not only did you take the time to read my story, you took the time to express your thoughts before going on with your day. Thank you!