The night was dark, wrapped in velvet, ravenged by biting wind, frost on the ground and on the darkened storefront windows. Only the insane stood on the streets on a night like these. Beneath the lovely neon glow of their house of addictions.
A gasp caught in her throat as she was slammed back against the wall. His lips pressed against hers crushingly, and she pushed him off of her violently, her fingers touching her bottom lip and her purple eyes smolderingly dangerous behind smuged, dark make-up. The grin had returned to his face as he caught his balance, standing up to his full height, almost two feet taller then her.
"What the hell?"
His red hair was messy, like it always was, framing pale, flawless flesh. Suddenly his posture changed, he appeared less agressive, and took just one step back towards her.
"Sorry,"
The apology was so insincere behind that constant smirk. Jonas's trademark Cheshire grin.
"But I couldn't help myself. You look lovely tonight.."
She glared at him in repressed fury. He had been getting more liberal with her, and she resented it like hell. The others were different. She would sleep with them then leave, and never see them again. It hgave her time to try to burn them from her memory. He was a constant in her life. Constant annoyance, constant presence. Constant fear..
"Fuck you. Don't touch me, I told you I wasn't doing buisness with you anymore."
And yes, she was a little afraid of him. Perhaps more then she admitted to herself. He had been pressing it lately, his obvious infatuation with her maybe turning into something else. She looked around, calculating her surroundings. They were near the back of a newer club, she had been trying to dettach herself from her old connections and find new ones. It was good to keep moving, not to get too deep into the personal shit of the people you bought from. It would happen if you stayed in one place for too long. It had started to snow, and there was no one but the two of them in sight. Not good. But she had a handgun in a shoulderholster under the studded leather jacket she was wearing. The press of the cold metal into the thin fabric of her tank top was comforting.
"Too good for me, hm? I've noticed you avoiding me."
He tilted his head to one side. Looked at her, his green eyes glittering, carrying an emotion she couldn't quite trace.
"You'll come crawling back, though, Carroll. I'll find you when you're helpless, don't worry."
Her eyes widened just a little as he moved closer, closing the distance between them and kissed her again, her neck this time. She tolerated it until one of his hands touched her waist, and started to slide up under her shirt. His hands were cold, gloveless despite the weather. She kneed him in the stomach, as hard as she could, then pushed him. He fell down on the pavement of the parking lot backwards, catching himself with his hands, then wincing, and wrapping his arms around himself, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. He seemed so delicate sometimes, so dangerous at others. It was one of the things that made Carroll wary of him.
"Bastard. Stop following me if you know what's good for you."
She walked away, chilled.
~
God, she was beautiful. He was watching her walk away, spike heels clicking against the street, leather mini skirt riding up just a little over her curves. He wanted her, she had always been his favorite. But.. she wasn't easy like the others. Physically, yes. She had slept with him countless times. When she was desperate for drugs. He held the key to her release, to manipulating her addiction. But she hated him, he could see it in her eyes when he touched her. He wanted her in a different way. He wanted to break her of that cool exterior. Maybe it was just his sense of possessiveness. He was very much of a child when it came to that.
He smirked. Someday. He turned, his arms wrapped around himself against the bite of the winter frost, and walked back into the club by the back door. The rush of heat and pounding music made him dizzy, and he plunged into the crowd, losing himself as so many others did each night, in the chaotic mesh of bodies and sound and movement.
~
"Come on, just tonight. It's fucking 20 degrees... Please. You know I don't beg you for sympathy a lot. But I have no where to go.."
Carroll was standing in the motel lobby. The elderly woman who owned the place was turning hard eyes on her.
"Too bad. You should have gotten a real job, you damn junkie. I told you it would be available, but only if you pay. Now get out, I'm closing up."
"But..."
She had nothing to argue with, nothing to promise. At least it wasn't snowing anymore. It was true, she had dug herself a pretty deep hole. It had been a week since her encounter with Judas behind the club. He had effectively been spreading lies about her. He was still an ameture, but in the months she had known him, subtle, but steady changes had been occuring. His circle was getting bigger. His descisions were smarter, though still as reckless. He had been, it seemed to her, doing better. She frowned. He was using his connections to cut her off. Damn scheming asshole. And now she had nowhere to go, having picked fights with too many people.
She was forced out of the nicely heated loby back into the freezing night air. In summer, she would have just slept on the street. But if she had to do that, she would freeze to death. She coughed a few times, and rubbed her arms to attempt some warmth. She started to walk, brisquely, her mind turning over hopeless options.
Then she remembered him. Vincent. It was desperation, a strand of hope. He had let her stay a night in her apartment. They knew each other's names. Maybe...
She found herself staring at the door to his apartment. She lifted her hand and knocked. It was only 10, he shouldn't be sleeping.
He wasn't. He was up reading, by the light of a small lamp standing on a table by the couch. His black hair fell over his face, head bent down and legs crossed under him, barefoot, completely engrossed in the material he was scanning. The knock shattered his concentration and his head snapped up, his good hand reaching instinctively for the revolver on the gun belt he wasn't wearing. Then he relaxed, and marked his place in the book, standing and walking across the carpeted floor to the door. He really had no idea who it could be. No one he knew would come to his apartment. He had no friends or relatives..
He opened the door, and found himself looking at a petite dark haired girl, wearing substantially less then it required to keep oneself warm in the weather. He regarded her with some suspicion.
"What do you want?"
"I..I know its an awkward request, since I don't really know you and all, but..."
"You want to stay here?"
"Yeah."
"No. Find a homeless shelter or something, this isnt a charity."
The door closed again, and he slid two bolts back in place. She had gotten the wrong idea about him. One was all right. He had felt involved, he couldn't just leave her, she was helpless there. But twice was a commitment. And Vincent didn't like ties.
"Vincent..."
She knocked again, more softly.
"Don't say my name like that. We aren't on a first-name basis. Go away."
His tone was cold, it was easy to slip back into. He had a mask of proffessionalism that was always at hand when he needed it. From all those years working as a Turk, and later with Avalanche. Outside, Carroll coughed another few times, the air in her lungs feeling like icy needles, and tears rising in her eyes. Then she pressed her back to the wall near his door and slid down it to the floor, hugging her knees close and closing her eyes.
Vincent waited. Silence. However, he could tell she hadn't left. Tsk. Taking care of some prostitute wasn't on his agenda. He sighed, and went back to the couch, picking up his book again. However, the text went completely over his head as the thought of the tempature outside snuck into his thoughts. She might die if just left there. He hadn't missed the occasional coughs, they sounded serious. He raked his hand back through his long black hair and frowned down at the pages of his book. What to do...
Carroll looked up as the door re-opened. Then she let her head drop again, seized in another fit of shivering. She had only been out here for 10 minutes, but she was almost immobile, the cold having seeped into her, numbing her past the point of pain. She had even started to feel a little bit warm...sleepy. She had been struggling to keep her eyes open when she heard the click of the bolts being pulled back. Then an absence of gravity, she noted that he had picked her up. She didn't even feel the tempature change as she was carried inside and placed on the couch. She winced the one time she met those eyes...colder then the night outside, and looking pretty angry that he was being forced into this. She lowered her own lashes, wanting to apologize, but not capable of speaking.
The feeling started to return. It hurt. She awoke about a half an hour later to the pain. A splitting headache, and her fingers and feet burning from the reutrning circluation. She curled up on the couch beneath the blanket she had been given and cried silently. Vincent was nowhere in sight, and she was a little glad, self consciousness creeping in around the pain, as it dulled. She felt ashamed of herself, in a different way then usual. These moods were usually provoked by her just being to disgusted with her own destructive behavior to stand it.. But this time it was shame of not being a decent human being. As if being around this man, Vincent, made her somehow see what she was lacking.
With these thoughts twisting their way through her tortured mind, sleep finally saved her, and she fell into warm darkness once again.
AN: Sorry if this seemned a little cut short, I stopped writing a bit before mym ideas had run out for this segment..but I waited too long to continue it, and forgot ^^; oh well. Next chapter'll be up in a week or so. Jonas and his many many problems ^^
Also...Thank you to Crisis_Cherubium for the nice review! This chapter is dedicated to you, then, as my only supporter to date. ^_^ If you like this you should read the inspiration for it, The Darker Side of my Heart. It's more artistic I think ^^; and more centered on Vincent. And yes, he rocks my world too. ^_~
A gasp caught in her throat as she was slammed back against the wall. His lips pressed against hers crushingly, and she pushed him off of her violently, her fingers touching her bottom lip and her purple eyes smolderingly dangerous behind smuged, dark make-up. The grin had returned to his face as he caught his balance, standing up to his full height, almost two feet taller then her.
"What the hell?"
His red hair was messy, like it always was, framing pale, flawless flesh. Suddenly his posture changed, he appeared less agressive, and took just one step back towards her.
"Sorry,"
The apology was so insincere behind that constant smirk. Jonas's trademark Cheshire grin.
"But I couldn't help myself. You look lovely tonight.."
She glared at him in repressed fury. He had been getting more liberal with her, and she resented it like hell. The others were different. She would sleep with them then leave, and never see them again. It hgave her time to try to burn them from her memory. He was a constant in her life. Constant annoyance, constant presence. Constant fear..
"Fuck you. Don't touch me, I told you I wasn't doing buisness with you anymore."
And yes, she was a little afraid of him. Perhaps more then she admitted to herself. He had been pressing it lately, his obvious infatuation with her maybe turning into something else. She looked around, calculating her surroundings. They were near the back of a newer club, she had been trying to dettach herself from her old connections and find new ones. It was good to keep moving, not to get too deep into the personal shit of the people you bought from. It would happen if you stayed in one place for too long. It had started to snow, and there was no one but the two of them in sight. Not good. But she had a handgun in a shoulderholster under the studded leather jacket she was wearing. The press of the cold metal into the thin fabric of her tank top was comforting.
"Too good for me, hm? I've noticed you avoiding me."
He tilted his head to one side. Looked at her, his green eyes glittering, carrying an emotion she couldn't quite trace.
"You'll come crawling back, though, Carroll. I'll find you when you're helpless, don't worry."
Her eyes widened just a little as he moved closer, closing the distance between them and kissed her again, her neck this time. She tolerated it until one of his hands touched her waist, and started to slide up under her shirt. His hands were cold, gloveless despite the weather. She kneed him in the stomach, as hard as she could, then pushed him. He fell down on the pavement of the parking lot backwards, catching himself with his hands, then wincing, and wrapping his arms around himself, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. He seemed so delicate sometimes, so dangerous at others. It was one of the things that made Carroll wary of him.
"Bastard. Stop following me if you know what's good for you."
She walked away, chilled.
~
God, she was beautiful. He was watching her walk away, spike heels clicking against the street, leather mini skirt riding up just a little over her curves. He wanted her, she had always been his favorite. But.. she wasn't easy like the others. Physically, yes. She had slept with him countless times. When she was desperate for drugs. He held the key to her release, to manipulating her addiction. But she hated him, he could see it in her eyes when he touched her. He wanted her in a different way. He wanted to break her of that cool exterior. Maybe it was just his sense of possessiveness. He was very much of a child when it came to that.
He smirked. Someday. He turned, his arms wrapped around himself against the bite of the winter frost, and walked back into the club by the back door. The rush of heat and pounding music made him dizzy, and he plunged into the crowd, losing himself as so many others did each night, in the chaotic mesh of bodies and sound and movement.
~
"Come on, just tonight. It's fucking 20 degrees... Please. You know I don't beg you for sympathy a lot. But I have no where to go.."
Carroll was standing in the motel lobby. The elderly woman who owned the place was turning hard eyes on her.
"Too bad. You should have gotten a real job, you damn junkie. I told you it would be available, but only if you pay. Now get out, I'm closing up."
"But..."
She had nothing to argue with, nothing to promise. At least it wasn't snowing anymore. It was true, she had dug herself a pretty deep hole. It had been a week since her encounter with Judas behind the club. He had effectively been spreading lies about her. He was still an ameture, but in the months she had known him, subtle, but steady changes had been occuring. His circle was getting bigger. His descisions were smarter, though still as reckless. He had been, it seemed to her, doing better. She frowned. He was using his connections to cut her off. Damn scheming asshole. And now she had nowhere to go, having picked fights with too many people.
She was forced out of the nicely heated loby back into the freezing night air. In summer, she would have just slept on the street. But if she had to do that, she would freeze to death. She coughed a few times, and rubbed her arms to attempt some warmth. She started to walk, brisquely, her mind turning over hopeless options.
Then she remembered him. Vincent. It was desperation, a strand of hope. He had let her stay a night in her apartment. They knew each other's names. Maybe...
She found herself staring at the door to his apartment. She lifted her hand and knocked. It was only 10, he shouldn't be sleeping.
He wasn't. He was up reading, by the light of a small lamp standing on a table by the couch. His black hair fell over his face, head bent down and legs crossed under him, barefoot, completely engrossed in the material he was scanning. The knock shattered his concentration and his head snapped up, his good hand reaching instinctively for the revolver on the gun belt he wasn't wearing. Then he relaxed, and marked his place in the book, standing and walking across the carpeted floor to the door. He really had no idea who it could be. No one he knew would come to his apartment. He had no friends or relatives..
He opened the door, and found himself looking at a petite dark haired girl, wearing substantially less then it required to keep oneself warm in the weather. He regarded her with some suspicion.
"What do you want?"
"I..I know its an awkward request, since I don't really know you and all, but..."
"You want to stay here?"
"Yeah."
"No. Find a homeless shelter or something, this isnt a charity."
The door closed again, and he slid two bolts back in place. She had gotten the wrong idea about him. One was all right. He had felt involved, he couldn't just leave her, she was helpless there. But twice was a commitment. And Vincent didn't like ties.
"Vincent..."
She knocked again, more softly.
"Don't say my name like that. We aren't on a first-name basis. Go away."
His tone was cold, it was easy to slip back into. He had a mask of proffessionalism that was always at hand when he needed it. From all those years working as a Turk, and later with Avalanche. Outside, Carroll coughed another few times, the air in her lungs feeling like icy needles, and tears rising in her eyes. Then she pressed her back to the wall near his door and slid down it to the floor, hugging her knees close and closing her eyes.
Vincent waited. Silence. However, he could tell she hadn't left. Tsk. Taking care of some prostitute wasn't on his agenda. He sighed, and went back to the couch, picking up his book again. However, the text went completely over his head as the thought of the tempature outside snuck into his thoughts. She might die if just left there. He hadn't missed the occasional coughs, they sounded serious. He raked his hand back through his long black hair and frowned down at the pages of his book. What to do...
Carroll looked up as the door re-opened. Then she let her head drop again, seized in another fit of shivering. She had only been out here for 10 minutes, but she was almost immobile, the cold having seeped into her, numbing her past the point of pain. She had even started to feel a little bit warm...sleepy. She had been struggling to keep her eyes open when she heard the click of the bolts being pulled back. Then an absence of gravity, she noted that he had picked her up. She didn't even feel the tempature change as she was carried inside and placed on the couch. She winced the one time she met those eyes...colder then the night outside, and looking pretty angry that he was being forced into this. She lowered her own lashes, wanting to apologize, but not capable of speaking.
The feeling started to return. It hurt. She awoke about a half an hour later to the pain. A splitting headache, and her fingers and feet burning from the reutrning circluation. She curled up on the couch beneath the blanket she had been given and cried silently. Vincent was nowhere in sight, and she was a little glad, self consciousness creeping in around the pain, as it dulled. She felt ashamed of herself, in a different way then usual. These moods were usually provoked by her just being to disgusted with her own destructive behavior to stand it.. But this time it was shame of not being a decent human being. As if being around this man, Vincent, made her somehow see what she was lacking.
With these thoughts twisting their way through her tortured mind, sleep finally saved her, and she fell into warm darkness once again.
AN: Sorry if this seemned a little cut short, I stopped writing a bit before mym ideas had run out for this segment..but I waited too long to continue it, and forgot ^^; oh well. Next chapter'll be up in a week or so. Jonas and his many many problems ^^
Also...Thank you to Crisis_Cherubium for the nice review! This chapter is dedicated to you, then, as my only supporter to date. ^_^ If you like this you should read the inspiration for it, The Darker Side of my Heart. It's more artistic I think ^^; and more centered on Vincent. And yes, he rocks my world too. ^_~