He looked down at her face. Her beautiful face that he had mesmerized since
the moment he saw her. A perfect face. Like they were meant to be, perfect.
Not a single flaw. Except when that group had escaped, with Max there, she
had been let into the world. And she had learnt to love. For them, it was a
flaw. It could hurt them. Damage them. Or they could be misunderstood and
not loved. Look at 493. In a sick twisted way, it was like he had missed
Manticore with its brutality and orders. So he had brought Manticore to
him. Hunting himself as he tattooed people with his barcode and murdered
them, killing himself over and over.
He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and a small smile appeared as she flicked the annoyance away from her face. He sighed slightly, and became deathly still as she shifted, trying to get comfy. She was still again. Dreaming he realised, as her eyes moved behind the lids. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Freedom from the hunt? A normal life? A new hair cut? He didn't know. Maybe she was dreaming of love. He smiled and leaned forward to smell her. Shampoo and … her.
A cough from the other room reminded him he was not alone and should be quiet. He had known where she lived for awhile now. But had never done anything until now. He had been at home, thinking about her as usual, when he wanted to see her so badly it hurt. So he had come, broke in and here he was, sat on her bed watching her sleep.
He hated it when they fought. Violent. But he had to. To protect himself. Didn't mean he liked it. Stupid job. Stupid Manticore for even starting something like this. Why couldn't they leave it alone?
Last time he had come away hurt, which was unusual for him. Angry as well, but hurt. A few days recuperating was all he needed to get back on his feet and on with the job.
He looked up to see it raining. He loved rain. That's why he liked Seattle. Rainy city. This was all he needed: rain and a view of the women he love- … he didn't know what she was to him. He shouldn't even have feelings in the first place, but for all that he designed, he was still human. Still had feelings. His last love hadn't turned out so well and for all that he did love her, it wasn't the same as this. Like someone has emptied a cage of butterflies into his stomach and was spinning him around at the same time. Sometimes he did want her dead, to stop this. She filled him with rage such that he sure as hell wanted to end it himself.
He looked back towards her, and the rage melted out of him immediately.
He couldn't kill her. Oh, he could hurt her all right. Make her cry. He didn't think he could kill her though. Came close, never done it though.
He sighed once more and looked at his watch, 02:23am. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against her cheek in a sweet kiss before brushing his fingers across her lips. Such soft lips.
He got up and walked towards the door, locking it behind him with a fake key. It was lucky he did leave, as his cell began to ring. He walked out of the building before answering.
"Yeah … "
"Agent White?"
"Yeah, its me."
He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and a small smile appeared as she flicked the annoyance away from her face. He sighed slightly, and became deathly still as she shifted, trying to get comfy. She was still again. Dreaming he realised, as her eyes moved behind the lids. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Freedom from the hunt? A normal life? A new hair cut? He didn't know. Maybe she was dreaming of love. He smiled and leaned forward to smell her. Shampoo and … her.
A cough from the other room reminded him he was not alone and should be quiet. He had known where she lived for awhile now. But had never done anything until now. He had been at home, thinking about her as usual, when he wanted to see her so badly it hurt. So he had come, broke in and here he was, sat on her bed watching her sleep.
He hated it when they fought. Violent. But he had to. To protect himself. Didn't mean he liked it. Stupid job. Stupid Manticore for even starting something like this. Why couldn't they leave it alone?
Last time he had come away hurt, which was unusual for him. Angry as well, but hurt. A few days recuperating was all he needed to get back on his feet and on with the job.
He looked up to see it raining. He loved rain. That's why he liked Seattle. Rainy city. This was all he needed: rain and a view of the women he love- … he didn't know what she was to him. He shouldn't even have feelings in the first place, but for all that he designed, he was still human. Still had feelings. His last love hadn't turned out so well and for all that he did love her, it wasn't the same as this. Like someone has emptied a cage of butterflies into his stomach and was spinning him around at the same time. Sometimes he did want her dead, to stop this. She filled him with rage such that he sure as hell wanted to end it himself.
He looked back towards her, and the rage melted out of him immediately.
He couldn't kill her. Oh, he could hurt her all right. Make her cry. He didn't think he could kill her though. Came close, never done it though.
He sighed once more and looked at his watch, 02:23am. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against her cheek in a sweet kiss before brushing his fingers across her lips. Such soft lips.
He got up and walked towards the door, locking it behind him with a fake key. It was lucky he did leave, as his cell began to ring. He walked out of the building before answering.
"Yeah … "
"Agent White?"
"Yeah, its me."