( perdition ) a loss of the soul, eternal damnation.
Pushing Perdition
"Where do you go at night?" Robin asks, trailing lukewarm fingers lightly over a purple-black bruise on his temple.
He narrows his eyes at her and moves away, catching her wrist.
"That's none of your business," he says, trying to imply an air of finality.
She frowns slightly and hugs her knees to her chest, "I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Why the hell not?" he grumbles, more to show her that he's annoyed than because he wants to know.
"You're all I've got," she whispers quietly after a brief silence, eyes glassy and vulnerable and so very scared.
He sighs guiltily and can think of nothing proper to say. Awkward and apologetic, he scoops her into his arms and pets her hair. She curls against him and tangles her little fists in his coat like he'd disappear if she didn't.
They've been doing this more and more lately.
He rises to leave, tired, agitated, and a bit confused. But her hands stay clinging to his clothes, and she sits there on the couch, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Please don't leave," she begs, tightening her grip.
Determined and stubborn, he attempts to take a step backwards. Before he can, she darts up on her knees and presses a hesitant kiss to his lips, awkward with inexperience. When he doesn't resist, she picks at the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them.
She'd do anything before she'd be alone.
He steadies his breathing and sighs resignedly. Locking eyes with her, he leans back and shuts the door.
Nagira's always been a gambling man.