AHHH! It took me forever to get this up!! I'm SOOOO SORRY! I would thank
all the reviewers, but I don't have time and I wanna get this up to I'll
thank you all next chapter - I PROMISE!!!
~~~~~
Vicious donned his long black trench coat the next morning, taking special care to examine each and every decoration and make sure it was just right. When he was quite sure he had everything the way he wanted it, he raked his fingers through his hair, his way of combing it, I suppose, and grimaced whenever he hit a tangle.
I sat on the bed and watched him, slightly amused, and then smiled when he turned to face me. "Where are you going?"
Vicious shoved his wallet into his pocket and smiled a little, replying quietly, "Nowhere, really. Just going to speak with some of the higher officers I've appointed - to see if all is running as smoothly as I'm told."
"What should I do?"
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and then glanced to the left, as if contemplating. "You need new clothes," he finally decided, a note of finality in his voice. "Claire is your size - go to her room and she'll let you borrow some clothes. Not willingly, I suppose, but tell her I sent you and there should be no problems."
I frowned, not appreciating being sent to Claire for what was obviously a baby-sitting job (she being meant to watch me, of course) but I knew better than to protest. My first step towards success had been getting Vicious to actually feel something for me - now all I had to do was get him to revert back to who he had once been, to Benjamin.
Wasn't sure how he'd feel about that, but nevertheless...
"You don't look happy with that idea," he said in that ever-dour voice of his, eyes drooping with either boredom or exhaustion.
"Claire is a witch," I snarled, crossing my arms and looking defiant. This must've struck him as funny because he chuckled uncharacteristically and ruffled my hair as if I was a child, and I laughed as well, though it was to relieve stress more than anything else. I really found no humor in Claire.
Vicious took a swaggering step closer and let one long arm wrap about my back as he bent his head to kiss my forehead lightly before pulling away and saying, "I'll write you a note if it makes you feel better."
"Thank you," I replied curtly, "but this is not elementary school. I don't need a note from you."
"Suit yourself," he murmured, suddenly distant again as he glided away and picked up his sheathed katana, holding it tightly in his fist. "I'm leaving now. Claire's room is on the fourth floor, 7C. Desma will need to escort you. It's been proven that you're obviously not safe walking the halls alone."
"That guy was massive!" I shot back, close to pouting. It really did bruise my pride, having Vicious insinuate I couldn't even step out of the room without getting myself killed.
He really didn't care to listen to my defensive statements though. The door swung shut just as I was opening my mouth to call out another objection. Instantly forgetting the problem, however, I sat down on the bed again and eyed the phone on the night stand. "So," I asked no one in particular, and perhaps even myself, "do I call Desma? And if I do, what's his number...?"
Vicious should've realized these things weren't just common sense.
Finally, after much debating, I hesitantly reached out and snatched the phone off its cradle, immediately realizing my wrist was in worse shape than I had first imagined when sharp pain shot through my lower arm and my fingers shakily released the object, letting it crash to the floor unceremoniously, mingling with my aggravated cries.
"Putting strain on yourself, aren't you?"
I glanced irritably towards the doorway, where Desma now stood, and grimaced. "Shut up," I growled, trying to push myself back off the mattress and onto my feet again. "I was just trying to figure out how to - GAH!" And the sentence ended in another scream of pain as I put too much weight on my one foot and felt my hip shift painfully, knees almost buckling.
"Looks like your back isn't aligned properly," Desma observed, walking over with such an air of authority that I immediately fell still. With a flourish of his hand, he commanded, "Lie down on your stomach." Once I had painstakingly done so, Desma leaned over me, inspecting, poked down along my spine, and then quite suddenly, grabbed my shoulders and twisted my upper body to the side, leaning down on his hands with his full weight. Loud, somewhat unpleasant cracks filled the silence of the room, and I, too shocked by his sudden movements, could only utter a strangled gasp.
It didn't hurt though. And I felt much better when I stood up.
"Your wrist is sprained," Desma said. "I can't fix that. It'll heal by itself if you don't put any pressure on it."
"Thanks, Desma."
"So, Vicious sent me up." He paused, took in my shocked look, and then laughed. "What? How else did you think I'd know to come? Never mind that though - he says to take you to Claire's room so she can fit you with some new clothes. Those ones you came in can't be comfortable anymore."
"Yeah, and I really need a shower."
"You can do that in Claire's room too."
"Are you gonna stick around?"
"And hang out with you girls? Ha, I think not. I have a job to do, and besides, why would you want me around?"
"To make sure your sister doesn't sneak into the bathroom and drown me, of course," I replied, only half-teasing as we walked out of the room.
~~~~~
Claire scrutinized me carefully, then glared at her closet of clothes. "Don't drip on the covers," she commanded, and I, freshly showered perched on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, reached up to adjust the towel wrapped around my head turban style. Once satisfied my wet hair was no longer a threat, Claire turned back to picking out my new outfit and then quickly thrust a T-shirt and a pair of jeans my way. They weren't too bad, actually - the shirt was dark gray and a little big, but nowadays I was only interested in comfort, and the jeans were faded but not in terrible shape.
Claire flopped down in a chair opposite me and scowled, eyes narrowed. "Those good enough?" she demanded.
"They're fine," I bit back. "You don't have to be so hostile - the least you could do is pretend to be a civilized human being."
"Why should I have to pretend?!" she cried out, suddenly throwing her arms up as tears flooded to her eyes. "You should know how I feel! You love Vicious! You've experienced what it's like when he turns his back on you!"
"Don't take it out on me!"
"I have every right to! When he walked away from you it was because you were lying to him through your teeth! When he left me...when he left me, it was because you came along and you seduced him!"
"CLAIRE! SHUT UP!" I leapt to my feet and raised my hand as if to strike her, but it turned out to be a futile effort since not only was Claire not the least bit frightened, but I had lifted my bad wrist and if I hit anything, it'd hurt me more than the object of my anger. I sunk back onto the bed and clenched my fists at my sides. "Vicious loves me! He didn't love you! He was just using you! Don't you get it?! You're the pathetic one!"
A bitter little laugh found it's way out of her perfect mouth and those cherry red lips curled in a sarcastic smile. "I'm pathetic? You're the one who is taking up with a man who loved you yet was quite content on cheating on you with me and who knows? Maybe someone else..." Claire's eyes narrowed. "You probably don't care though. And right now, I don't either - it just hurts too much."
I scowled, trying not to let the angry look slip. Tears were making Claire's brown eyes glassy, though she obviously was trying not to let it show. She must've been pretty upset with the news if....
I gulped down a lump in my throat. The only people who knew about this new revelation were Vicious and me, as it had occurred last night, so who else could've discovered such a thing?
"Claire," I began in a low, even tone, "how did you know?"
Her voice trembled as she replied, "A girlfriend of mine was on guard duty last night, and she told me she saw the whole thing over the security cameras."
That made me uneasy. Security cameras really were everywhere, watching my every move, as Vicious had threatened earlier. Even in his room. Who all knew what had happened?
"You'll get yours," Claire threatened, wiping a sleeve across her eyes to soak up her tears. "Vicious will betray you too. He's done it to everyone else, and as long as he's in this syndicate, he'll do it to you too!"
She was right.
I grabbed the clothes and limped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Somehow I managed to get dressed even in my dire distress and drew in a few deep breathes, hobbling outside and, without looking at Claire, into the hall. No time to call Desma for an escort - he was her brother anyhow, and he cared about her more - so I traveled alone back to the room.
It was a fairly non-eventful trip unless you counted my breaking down in the hallway and screaming at a woman who asked for identification. Matters were only made worse when she took a step back, squinted, and said, "Oh...never mind. You're Vicious' new girlfriend. I was the one on guard duty last night."
Claire wasn't joking about haunting me. Even her friends were in on it.
Once back in the room, I flopped down on the bed and laid with my face in the pillow, wondering if this was possibly all a futile effort. So what if Vicious cared? Could I stand to live with someone like him? Just because I'd gotten him to say a few things didn't mean he'd ever go back to being like he used to.
The door opened but I didn't need to look up to see who it was. "I thought you had work," I growled, eyes still squeezed shut.
No reply.
I lifted my head grimly, slowly rolling onto my side to glare at Vicious. Only it wasn't him. Standing there with his hands clasped behind his back was Shin, grave and solemn, his dark eyes and black hair contrasting sharply with his abnormally pale skin.
"Shin?" I murmured, sighing in relief. "Good. I could use a friend here." Clumsily rolling out of bed and walking towards him, I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, saying, "I have to tell you -"
Shin jerked back, my fingertips barely skimming the material of his jacket. His eyes narrowed and he bitterly growled, "There's nothing you can say to me, Faye, and we're not friends!"
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
Here his composure broke down, and he turned his head and lifted a hand to cover his face, taking a few moments to steady himself. His voice, when he next spoke, came out like a sob. "No more Shin," he whispered, repeating the words Vicious and I had spoken only the night before. "No more Shin..."
I'd lost my only true friend in the whole blasted syndicate... I'd betrayed him... I could feel my eyes widening in horror, my mouth gaping open. He'd seen it all - he must've seen the security tape. I could only imagine how it had looked.
Tears trickled down his ashen cheeks. "Were you using me?" he asked wonderingly, as if speaking to himself. His hoarse voice cracked and then he continued shakily, "I really thought we were friends..."
"We are, Shin," I tried to desperately intervene, tried to reassure him. "We are friends!"
"No, no we're not." He took a step back, towards the door, eyes narrowed. "You'll see what it's like, Faye. I won't let this slide. You're just like Vicious. You two deserve each other..." Quickly, his green eyes darted away. He refused to meet my gaze. One step, two steps, backing out the door, not wanting to give me even the slightest trust, as if he really believed I'd stab him in the back the minute he turned - both figuratively and literally. He was still facing me when the door slammed shut, scowling angrily, and I cringed at the noise.
Stinging tears clouded my eyes. I hurriedly raised my fists to scrub them away, sniffling in self-pity and misery. Selfish, deceitful and stupid. Those were the only things I had come to be. And now, not only was a significant female member of the syndicate cursing my name, but my only real friend - the one who had saved my life - was plotting against me, and it was all, undoubtedly, my fault.
And I was angry. At myself, at Vicious even.
So when he opened the door and walked through, bland expression, colorless eyes, dull, gray eyes and dark coat, I ran to him and I felt him reach out in surprise to embrace me, jerking in shock when I raised a fist and slammed it down on his chest, sobbing his name. He hugged me tighter and I cried that I hated myself and even though he asked repeatedly, I couldn't tell him what was wrong.
~~~~~
Review!!
~~~~~
Vicious donned his long black trench coat the next morning, taking special care to examine each and every decoration and make sure it was just right. When he was quite sure he had everything the way he wanted it, he raked his fingers through his hair, his way of combing it, I suppose, and grimaced whenever he hit a tangle.
I sat on the bed and watched him, slightly amused, and then smiled when he turned to face me. "Where are you going?"
Vicious shoved his wallet into his pocket and smiled a little, replying quietly, "Nowhere, really. Just going to speak with some of the higher officers I've appointed - to see if all is running as smoothly as I'm told."
"What should I do?"
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and then glanced to the left, as if contemplating. "You need new clothes," he finally decided, a note of finality in his voice. "Claire is your size - go to her room and she'll let you borrow some clothes. Not willingly, I suppose, but tell her I sent you and there should be no problems."
I frowned, not appreciating being sent to Claire for what was obviously a baby-sitting job (she being meant to watch me, of course) but I knew better than to protest. My first step towards success had been getting Vicious to actually feel something for me - now all I had to do was get him to revert back to who he had once been, to Benjamin.
Wasn't sure how he'd feel about that, but nevertheless...
"You don't look happy with that idea," he said in that ever-dour voice of his, eyes drooping with either boredom or exhaustion.
"Claire is a witch," I snarled, crossing my arms and looking defiant. This must've struck him as funny because he chuckled uncharacteristically and ruffled my hair as if I was a child, and I laughed as well, though it was to relieve stress more than anything else. I really found no humor in Claire.
Vicious took a swaggering step closer and let one long arm wrap about my back as he bent his head to kiss my forehead lightly before pulling away and saying, "I'll write you a note if it makes you feel better."
"Thank you," I replied curtly, "but this is not elementary school. I don't need a note from you."
"Suit yourself," he murmured, suddenly distant again as he glided away and picked up his sheathed katana, holding it tightly in his fist. "I'm leaving now. Claire's room is on the fourth floor, 7C. Desma will need to escort you. It's been proven that you're obviously not safe walking the halls alone."
"That guy was massive!" I shot back, close to pouting. It really did bruise my pride, having Vicious insinuate I couldn't even step out of the room without getting myself killed.
He really didn't care to listen to my defensive statements though. The door swung shut just as I was opening my mouth to call out another objection. Instantly forgetting the problem, however, I sat down on the bed again and eyed the phone on the night stand. "So," I asked no one in particular, and perhaps even myself, "do I call Desma? And if I do, what's his number...?"
Vicious should've realized these things weren't just common sense.
Finally, after much debating, I hesitantly reached out and snatched the phone off its cradle, immediately realizing my wrist was in worse shape than I had first imagined when sharp pain shot through my lower arm and my fingers shakily released the object, letting it crash to the floor unceremoniously, mingling with my aggravated cries.
"Putting strain on yourself, aren't you?"
I glanced irritably towards the doorway, where Desma now stood, and grimaced. "Shut up," I growled, trying to push myself back off the mattress and onto my feet again. "I was just trying to figure out how to - GAH!" And the sentence ended in another scream of pain as I put too much weight on my one foot and felt my hip shift painfully, knees almost buckling.
"Looks like your back isn't aligned properly," Desma observed, walking over with such an air of authority that I immediately fell still. With a flourish of his hand, he commanded, "Lie down on your stomach." Once I had painstakingly done so, Desma leaned over me, inspecting, poked down along my spine, and then quite suddenly, grabbed my shoulders and twisted my upper body to the side, leaning down on his hands with his full weight. Loud, somewhat unpleasant cracks filled the silence of the room, and I, too shocked by his sudden movements, could only utter a strangled gasp.
It didn't hurt though. And I felt much better when I stood up.
"Your wrist is sprained," Desma said. "I can't fix that. It'll heal by itself if you don't put any pressure on it."
"Thanks, Desma."
"So, Vicious sent me up." He paused, took in my shocked look, and then laughed. "What? How else did you think I'd know to come? Never mind that though - he says to take you to Claire's room so she can fit you with some new clothes. Those ones you came in can't be comfortable anymore."
"Yeah, and I really need a shower."
"You can do that in Claire's room too."
"Are you gonna stick around?"
"And hang out with you girls? Ha, I think not. I have a job to do, and besides, why would you want me around?"
"To make sure your sister doesn't sneak into the bathroom and drown me, of course," I replied, only half-teasing as we walked out of the room.
~~~~~
Claire scrutinized me carefully, then glared at her closet of clothes. "Don't drip on the covers," she commanded, and I, freshly showered perched on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, reached up to adjust the towel wrapped around my head turban style. Once satisfied my wet hair was no longer a threat, Claire turned back to picking out my new outfit and then quickly thrust a T-shirt and a pair of jeans my way. They weren't too bad, actually - the shirt was dark gray and a little big, but nowadays I was only interested in comfort, and the jeans were faded but not in terrible shape.
Claire flopped down in a chair opposite me and scowled, eyes narrowed. "Those good enough?" she demanded.
"They're fine," I bit back. "You don't have to be so hostile - the least you could do is pretend to be a civilized human being."
"Why should I have to pretend?!" she cried out, suddenly throwing her arms up as tears flooded to her eyes. "You should know how I feel! You love Vicious! You've experienced what it's like when he turns his back on you!"
"Don't take it out on me!"
"I have every right to! When he walked away from you it was because you were lying to him through your teeth! When he left me...when he left me, it was because you came along and you seduced him!"
"CLAIRE! SHUT UP!" I leapt to my feet and raised my hand as if to strike her, but it turned out to be a futile effort since not only was Claire not the least bit frightened, but I had lifted my bad wrist and if I hit anything, it'd hurt me more than the object of my anger. I sunk back onto the bed and clenched my fists at my sides. "Vicious loves me! He didn't love you! He was just using you! Don't you get it?! You're the pathetic one!"
A bitter little laugh found it's way out of her perfect mouth and those cherry red lips curled in a sarcastic smile. "I'm pathetic? You're the one who is taking up with a man who loved you yet was quite content on cheating on you with me and who knows? Maybe someone else..." Claire's eyes narrowed. "You probably don't care though. And right now, I don't either - it just hurts too much."
I scowled, trying not to let the angry look slip. Tears were making Claire's brown eyes glassy, though she obviously was trying not to let it show. She must've been pretty upset with the news if....
I gulped down a lump in my throat. The only people who knew about this new revelation were Vicious and me, as it had occurred last night, so who else could've discovered such a thing?
"Claire," I began in a low, even tone, "how did you know?"
Her voice trembled as she replied, "A girlfriend of mine was on guard duty last night, and she told me she saw the whole thing over the security cameras."
That made me uneasy. Security cameras really were everywhere, watching my every move, as Vicious had threatened earlier. Even in his room. Who all knew what had happened?
"You'll get yours," Claire threatened, wiping a sleeve across her eyes to soak up her tears. "Vicious will betray you too. He's done it to everyone else, and as long as he's in this syndicate, he'll do it to you too!"
She was right.
I grabbed the clothes and limped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Somehow I managed to get dressed even in my dire distress and drew in a few deep breathes, hobbling outside and, without looking at Claire, into the hall. No time to call Desma for an escort - he was her brother anyhow, and he cared about her more - so I traveled alone back to the room.
It was a fairly non-eventful trip unless you counted my breaking down in the hallway and screaming at a woman who asked for identification. Matters were only made worse when she took a step back, squinted, and said, "Oh...never mind. You're Vicious' new girlfriend. I was the one on guard duty last night."
Claire wasn't joking about haunting me. Even her friends were in on it.
Once back in the room, I flopped down on the bed and laid with my face in the pillow, wondering if this was possibly all a futile effort. So what if Vicious cared? Could I stand to live with someone like him? Just because I'd gotten him to say a few things didn't mean he'd ever go back to being like he used to.
The door opened but I didn't need to look up to see who it was. "I thought you had work," I growled, eyes still squeezed shut.
No reply.
I lifted my head grimly, slowly rolling onto my side to glare at Vicious. Only it wasn't him. Standing there with his hands clasped behind his back was Shin, grave and solemn, his dark eyes and black hair contrasting sharply with his abnormally pale skin.
"Shin?" I murmured, sighing in relief. "Good. I could use a friend here." Clumsily rolling out of bed and walking towards him, I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, saying, "I have to tell you -"
Shin jerked back, my fingertips barely skimming the material of his jacket. His eyes narrowed and he bitterly growled, "There's nothing you can say to me, Faye, and we're not friends!"
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
Here his composure broke down, and he turned his head and lifted a hand to cover his face, taking a few moments to steady himself. His voice, when he next spoke, came out like a sob. "No more Shin," he whispered, repeating the words Vicious and I had spoken only the night before. "No more Shin..."
I'd lost my only true friend in the whole blasted syndicate... I'd betrayed him... I could feel my eyes widening in horror, my mouth gaping open. He'd seen it all - he must've seen the security tape. I could only imagine how it had looked.
Tears trickled down his ashen cheeks. "Were you using me?" he asked wonderingly, as if speaking to himself. His hoarse voice cracked and then he continued shakily, "I really thought we were friends..."
"We are, Shin," I tried to desperately intervene, tried to reassure him. "We are friends!"
"No, no we're not." He took a step back, towards the door, eyes narrowed. "You'll see what it's like, Faye. I won't let this slide. You're just like Vicious. You two deserve each other..." Quickly, his green eyes darted away. He refused to meet my gaze. One step, two steps, backing out the door, not wanting to give me even the slightest trust, as if he really believed I'd stab him in the back the minute he turned - both figuratively and literally. He was still facing me when the door slammed shut, scowling angrily, and I cringed at the noise.
Stinging tears clouded my eyes. I hurriedly raised my fists to scrub them away, sniffling in self-pity and misery. Selfish, deceitful and stupid. Those were the only things I had come to be. And now, not only was a significant female member of the syndicate cursing my name, but my only real friend - the one who had saved my life - was plotting against me, and it was all, undoubtedly, my fault.
And I was angry. At myself, at Vicious even.
So when he opened the door and walked through, bland expression, colorless eyes, dull, gray eyes and dark coat, I ran to him and I felt him reach out in surprise to embrace me, jerking in shock when I raised a fist and slammed it down on his chest, sobbing his name. He hugged me tighter and I cried that I hated myself and even though he asked repeatedly, I couldn't tell him what was wrong.
~~~~~
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