There was something soothing and deeply melancholy about rainfall on half-open windows, with the old lace curtains fluttering in the cool breeze, much like the tattered edges of the memory they brought to life. Julia remembered a room like this one, the light dim and grey, the coffee tepid in it's untouched mug.
It had been raining on that particular day as well, and it was almost painful to hear the footsteps of another weary person returning to their apartment, just next to hers. The slow-paced rhythm was so much like Spike's had been, and she had known just from the slow creaking of the door that something was wrong.
His usually warm, expressive brown eyes had been dull and averted from hers that day, and as she'd twined her delicate fingers in his strong ones, their customary handclasp was absent.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the muffled arguments of the couple next door, and inadvertently she winced, glancing at the clock on the wall. Only an hour until Vicious returned. They'd been living together for so long now, his cold, emotionless presense was just another everpresent shadow in her life.
Thinking of him, she unconsciously played with the seam of her long skirt, twisting the edge in agitation. Vicious did this to her; stirred up a turmoil of uncertainty and conflicting emotions, so that she scarcely knew what she wanted anymore. She couldn't remember if her dreams had ever been bright, and now all she had was the dubious future of a Syndicate-owned killer, without the man that made this burden on her conscience almost tolerable.
Vicious would laugh at her own hypocritical morals, she knew. Years spent in violence hardened a person past caring about things like innocence and loved ones left behind. But even Spike, who could blow away life after life without flinching, had cared. That's why he had left. And she had been too cowardly to go with him.
This was what had truly held her captive these four years. Guilt was a far stronger shackle than Vicious's threats, and the almost certain death that awaited anyone foolish enough to leave the Syndicate.
Had Spike been foolish, then, to fly to the nether regions of Space, abandoning the organization that had owned his life as they had so many others? Sometimes Julia thought so, on those days she watched the betrayers being publically tortured. Look what he risked, she'd think bitterly, unflinching as she saw her comrades crushed, maimed, or otherwise unpleasantly killed; their blood and bruised organs splattering the walls like grisly paint.
But other nights, when she lay caught in Vicious's hard embrace, subdued and shivering naked in strong arms that gave no warmth, she laughed at herself, and her own choices. At least Spike has his freedom. Despite her own suffering, and the tormented existence she had numbed herself to, a small part of her was unspeakably glad that wherever he was, he was happy, and free of the bonds that had chafed them both.
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed the prologue, and please Review, because nothing motivates an author to write like feedback. There will be straight, shonen & shoujo ai pairings in this story, in an effort to please everybody. First chapter coming soon.