Chapter 5

Check

It was now the middle of March. V spent more time in the Shadow Gallery than he had ever done so in the previous months. He only left the Shadow Galley on business whereas before he would leave just to get out and enjoy the fresh air. Continuing to go out freely would be unfair to Evey, for he knew she desperately wanted to go outside and breathe open air as well. So, V stayed in with her, as much as possible.

"You'll be happy to know it rained last night," V said casually.

"If you're trying to distract me, it is not going to work," she said confidently placing her queen down on the chessboard. "Check." V smiled underneath his mask.

"Oh not at all!" He said earnestly. "I do believe you once told me that you loved it when it rained."

Evey up looked up from the board, eyeing him suspiciously, "I do." She watched him move his bishop diagonally down the board, placing it in front of Evey's queen. She took her queen and knocked over his bishop and smiled triumphantly.

"Overconfidence is a plague among mankind," V said smoothly, sliding his rook piece across the board, destroying her queen. "Check" His rook now took the place queen right in front of her own king.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, she knew she was going to lose for sure. Grant it, she already knew she was in for it when V took her queen and this was her fifth game in a row with V, who had won every single game. Regardless of what strategy she used, he always had a better one. He always seemed to be two steps ahead of her. She could never get a break. "You're too smart for your own good," she teased.

"No law or ordinance is mightier than understanding," he replied.

Evey looked up at V curiously, "and that is from?"

"Plato,naturally," V said simply.

Evey nodded her head nonchalantly as she took her next move, "Oh."

"But you know…" V continued, leaning forward in his chair slightly. "Man becomes man only by his intelligence, but he is man only by his heart. Checkmate." V sat back into his chair triumphantly.

Evey looked down at the board, surprised. "What?" Said Evey, studying the board silently. He had cornered her king with the help of his rook, bishop and queen. "I hate this game," she pouted. "Just you wait though," she said looking at him. "There is a book on how to conquer the game of chess in one of the studies, once I read it, I will be chess champion." She smiled.

V stood up, "Indeed you will." He got up quickly, going into the kitchen, bringing back a cup of tea for Evey. "I regret to inform you that I must go out tonight," V said, sighing. Evey took a sip of her tea, nodding her head in understanding. "Evey, do not stay up for me." V's tone was now dead serious.

True, she had recently been making a new habit out of staying up for him until he arrived back to the Shadow Gallery from his nights out. V would find her there sometimes fast asleep in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her and a book in her lap. He would only smile; he must be one of the most fortunate men alive to have the pleasure of coming home to such a sleeping beauty.

His tone had alarmed her; this was severe. She watched him go into this room and close the door. She took another sip of her tea and moved over to the couch and turned on the television. She contemplated on why she was not permitted to stay up for him. It was possible that on this particular trip out that it was very life threatening, but then when wasn't it dangerous? She wanted to protest, tell him to stay, and that it isn't worth losing his life or hurting himself, but every time she opened her mouth no words came out.

V emerged from his room, fully clothed in his usual black getup. She turned away from the television, her heart pounding harshly; she knew he was going out to kill as she watched him load his belt with knives. An overbearing silence fell upon them, so thick with tension and seriousness that it made her skin prickle, making the small hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end.

Rising slowly to her feet she looked at V, waiting for him to say something as he fastened his black heavy cloak around him. V stared back at Evey, who looked very melancholy. He knew that she did not wish for him to leave, but he had to. Evey opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

"I cannot linger another moment," V said putting on his hat and moving towards the door leading up to the world she no longer was a part of. Evey crossed her arms, watching him disappear. She hated when he left her. She hated the feeling she got when he walked out the door; it was as though the light was sucked out of her soul and only darkness engulfed her.

Evey knew that V was an excellent fighter, but she worried about him every single time. Sometimes he would return okay and unharmed, but there were other times when you could tell he was exhausted and weak from the night. She stood there for a moment, trying to put her feelings into words. Giving up, she went to bed, slipping on a simple oversized T-shirt and crawling underneath the covers. As she switched her lamp off she whispered a silent prayer for V and closed her eyes.

The bullet pierced the side of his arm, causing a painful burning sensation that stole the breath from his lips. Yanking one of his knives free from a dead Fingerman's, V threw the blade at his shooter, hitting him square in the chest, knocking him down to the cold hard pavement. Picking up the rest of his knives from the other dead bodies, he walked over to the Fingerman. V peered down at his enemy; he laid there panting and spewing out vulgar words.

V slammed another knife into the Fingerman's throat. "We are but a surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but savage creatures, animated by vile passions and by the lust of vengeance and of hate," V said to the dead Fingerman.

Evey awoke to the sound of a slamming door. "V," she said, sitting up in her bed. She quickly turned her lamp on and walked out of her door expecting a warm greeting. But when she reached the main room V was clutching his right arm. "V?" Evey rushed over to him. She looked at his arm; a dark liquid covered his glove and trailed down his long black sleeve. She gasped, "Are you bleeding? What happened, V?"

V moved away from her, chuckling. "I'm quite alright," V winced. "I did a horrible job at avoiding a bullet, that's all."

She followed him, trying to keep from panicking; "You got shot?" He dropped his hat off onto a table and unfastened his cloak, letting it fall where he stood. "Is there anything I can do? Call a doctor?" She was close to tears as she rushed over to him, wrapping her small arms around him, trying to hold him up.

"Evey please, there is no need for a doctor," V winced again. "I'm quite alright. This has happened once before. However, if you could be so kind as to get me a bowl filled with warm water and a wash cloth, I would be most grateful."

Evey walked quickly into the kitchen, grabbing a wash cloth and a bowl, filling it with warm water. Her mind swarmed with worry and guilt. She should have told him to stay. When she returned, V was gone. "V?" She called out.

"I'm in here," V's voice called out from his bedroom. She opened the door to his bedroom and saw him sitting on his bed, holding a pocketknife. She was alarmed by the knife and hoped that he didn't intend to use it to get the bullet out. "You can set the bowl on the table over there," V said pointing to a small table besides his bed where there were already assorted bottles of medicines sitting.

She set it down and stood there looking at his wound, fidgeting. "Did you need any more help?" She asked, her voice trembling a bit.

"If you could close the door all the way when you leave, that would be most helpful," V said appreciatively. He couldn't continue if she was in the room. He did not wish to reveal his burnt flesh to her and he had no intention of exposing her to his bullet wound. He was sure that both circumstances would make her feel weak in the knees. Evey knelt down besides V, resting her hands on his knees, looking up warmly into his face. He could feel her skin's warmth and smell the essence of lavender from her hair. "I'm not leaving," she said tenderly. "Evey," V winced. "I do not wish to expose you-"

She rose up to her feet, getting a bit angry. "Shh! I don't care about any of that and I know you do, but you shouldn't." She heard him let out a small growl, but pressed on. "I just can't stand here and not help you. So please," she said a bit softer, tears falling. "Let me help you."

V agreed grudgingly. He would have continued to tell her no, but he knew she was stuck on helping him and he could not forget the painful throbbing in his arm. He didn't have time to argue with her. He let her help him out of his gloves, jacket and shirt. Even then she proved to be a hindrance; he could feel her fingers stumbling as she tackled the small buttons that held his jacket together. She took longer than he wanted and he did not know how long he could withstand the pain.

Taking off his undershirt she took in the slight of his exposed flesh. Faint pink in color, thin white scars were scattered across the length of his torso. And spots of different shades of red were speckled around random parts of his arms, neck, and abdomen. She couldn't help but stare at him; it was something so new to her. She didn't realize the burns were this severe, nor did she realize he had a considerable amount of muscle underneath all those layers of clothing.

"Can you give me the wash cloth?" V said weakly. He knew she was looking at him and she was, for better or worse, completely silent on the matter. To say the least, he was very uncomfortable.

She handed him the damp wash cloth. She stood there, helpless, watching him clean his wound. First wiping the blood away. Talking one of the bottles off the nightstand, he poured a disinfectant over the wound, letting out a low growl.

He handed the disinfectant and the already bloodstained cloth back to Evey, "Here, set that back on the table." She did as she was told and rinsed the cloth out, getting most of the blood out. "Now I want you to hold the wash cloth underneath the wound and catch any blood that will fall," V said roughly. She nodded and sat next to him on the bed, holding the wash cloth underneath the wound.

V picked up the pocketknife with his other arm and brought the tip of the blade to the edge of his wound. He looked at Evey, wondering what was going through her mind-she looked awfully pale at the moment. Letting out a loud growl, V sliced through his skin, making the bullet wound larger.

Evey had never fainted before, but watching him dig out the bullet using such a barbaric tool to do so was nauseating and made her dizzy. She tried closing her eyes, but she had to wipe up the dark blood oozing out from the wound and down his arm. Silent tears fell from her eyes as painful and agonizing moans came from V. She shuddered uncontrollably.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she felt a heavy object fall into wash cloth laid out in her palms. She picked it up, wiping away her tears and handed the bullet to V. He examined the brassy bullet as she wiped up the remaining blood and applied pressure on his wound. They sat there silent as she rinsed the cloth out in the warm water and began dabbing the excess blood off. She poured more disinfectant on his wound, causing V to let a low hiss. "Do you know how to sew?" V said, his voice noticeably weaker.

Evey shook her head, "No…why?"

V shifted his weight a bit, "If you look on the tray where the bottles are, you will see a sewing needle and some thread, bring them to me."

Her eyes widened as she went over the table and grabbed both items and placed them in his hand. She hoped that he wouldn't have her stitch him up. Oh god, she didn't think she could handle it. V tied the thread to the needle and in Evey's relief; V reached over with his good arm and started to stitch up his wound.

Evey watched in horror as the needle punctured his skin, going in and out, closing the hole. She noticed how quiet he was as he did so and thought of how she would react to having to give herself stitches, let alone dig out a bullet from her arm. She shuddered at the thoughts. Once V was done, he gave the needle and thread back to Evey. "Do you have any bandaging?" V nodded and pointed behind him to where strips of bandages and gauze had already been laid out. "Here," she said applying slight pressure to his wound. "Hold the cloth here." V's clasped his hand over hers.

Evey looked up at him blushing, feeling his warmth on hers for the first time. His skin wasn't as rough as she'd visualized it, but still coarse. His hands were warm and large, covering her small hand up. Unlike his, Evey's hand was incredibly soft, softer than anything V could have imagined it was. Touching her skin for the first time was like touching silk: so smooth and soft. Now if only he could savor the taste of her creamy skin.

She pulled her hand loose and gathered up the material. V removed his hand as Evey smeared an antibacterial ointment over and around the wound. She dressed the wound using a large bandage, wrapping it up tightly with gaze. V looked at her intensely. New feelings where stirring in him, he never had anyone take care of him like this before.

Whenever he had this sort of thing happen to him he always took care of it by himself. Evey had no obligation to help him and at times he felt her trembling more than he did. He was certain this was not an enjoyable situation to be put in, but she helped him regardless. And even though her help made the process and the pain last longer, but he didn't mind so much.

In fact, he rather liked it and it gave him this strange feeling, as though he was loved. It wasn't the sort of lustful love; it was something more. It felt deeper and meaningful. For once, he was at a lost for words. Suddenly, the pain didn't hurt so much and he didn't feel so exhausted. Instead he felt rejuvenated and very grateful. "Thank you Evey," V said appreciatively. "You didn't have to do this." V stood up, putting on his gray poets' undershirt.

She stood now in front of him and he noticed what she was wearing for the first time. The over sized T-shirt stopped at the middle of her thighs, showing off the rest of her smooth and slender legs. By the bags under her eyes, he could tell she had tired and her long soft brown hair fell to her shoulders in disarray. Her face was still considerably pale from the current events, but V smiled. She looked absolutely stunning. "Of course, I had to, V," Evey said, gathering the excess materials and putting them on the tray. As she reached out for the gauze by V's side, V grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards himself.

"Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude. Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words, but…" V wrapped her arms around her small body, holding her close to him, feeling her warmth against him. "Gratitude is shown in acts," V's voice was deep and rich.

At first Evey was quite surprised, but as she felt V's arms around her, she melted into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around V, pressing her body against his. She sighed softly, nuzzling her head into his warm and inviting chest. His hand caressed the side of her face gently. Her skin felt like silk through his unrefined fingers. God he wanted her now.

"V?" Evey said looking up, enjoying the attention he was giving her. "How's your arm?" V let her loose; he had to get in control of himself. He stepped away from her, taking off from where she had stopped, cleaning and loading all the materials on the silver tray.

"Could never be better," he said deeply. She walked over to him and slapped his hands away from the tray.

"Let me do it," she said briskly. She gently pushed him aside, picking up the tray and left his room. V sat there, holding a book as Evey came back into the room. "Not asleep yet?" She teased.

V sat the book down in his lap, "Evey, would you like me to read you a story?" He asked shyly.

Evey frowned, "No V, your arm, remember? You have to get some rest." She placed a hand on her hip. It was just like him to care more about reading a book than it was to nurse him wound.

V stood up, still holding on to the book, "I can assure you Evey that my arm is perfectly alright," V motioned her to sit on his bed. "Please allow me to read to you."

Evey grinned and walked over and sat on the bed. "Okay," she said getting under his covers as he directed her to do so. "But it better be a short story and afterwards you have to promise to go to bed."

V gave a very low bow. "You have my honor!" V brought up a chair by the bed and situated himself in it. Opening the book , he read the title out loud to her. "Animal Farm, written by George Orwell," V turned the page and took a quick glance at Evey who sat upright against the headboard. "Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm," V began, his voice rich and articulate. "Had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes. With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard..."

As he read chapter through chapter, V had noticed Evey's eyes becoming heavier and heavier. Then he noticed that she had finally she was fast asleep, breathing softly. She looked so peaceful when she slept. V got to his feet, placing the book aside and walked over to the light switch and flipped it off, chuckling softy.

"She didn't even make it through chapter four."


Author's Note: Thanks to my excellent beta Ellina Hope and my newest beta Diclare for editing this piece of poo :) You're wonderful darlings! And thank you, once again, for your kind and encouraging reviews! You guys are too good to me :3 I hope this chapter was pleasing to you all, critiques and criticism is always welcome!

Chapter 7 will have mature content


Works Cited:

A surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but savage creatures, animated by vile passions and by the lust of vengeance and of hate.
Baroness Orczy

Man becomes man only by his intelligence, but he is man only by his heart.
Henri Frederic Amiel

Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude. Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words. Gratitude is shown in acts.
Henri Frederic Amiel

No law or ordinance is mightier than understanding.
Plato

Animal Farm
George Orwell