Author's Note: And I finally did it. Less than 1,000 words. I rock.
This next drabble was written for Illusion (of the NML). She wanted a drabble featuring her OC, Illusion, and Spot Conlon. I tried to veer away from fluff, per her request, and focus on the OC's history that she provided me. It took me a little bit to get this out because I tried to research this before I did. The whole idea of the rose on the chest came straight from wikipedia research; according to wikipedia, the rose on the chest is an initiation tattoo for the Russian Mafia. I'm not sure if this practice was followed in 1899, but I figured it works for the drabble's purpose.
Enjoy.
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Title: The Rose
Featuring: Spot Conlon/Illusion
Challenge: a theme challenge: skeletons in the closet
Word Count: 834
Written For: Illusion
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THE ROSE
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Someone is following me. With the sudden alertness that accompanies a rational fear, Illusion knew that she was being followed. She quickened her pace and hurried towards the Brooklyn docks. She would feel a lot better once she was on her home turf.
After she walked another few blocks and the sensation that she was being followed did not lessen, she dared a glance behind her. Her sharp, icy blue eyes scanned the area quickly but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She turned her head back swiftly; her long chestnut hair, pulled back in a simple braid, rested on her shoulder. She resumed her pace. She was almost home.
It was when the docks were finally in sight that she spun around again. The feeling that she was being chased had intensified. This time, when she searched behind her, she was justified. There, a few yards behind here, stood a young man. He was tall yet stocky; his clothes were new and expensively tailored. He wore a hat on top of his round head so that she could not recognize him. However, he stopped when she glared back at him. He wasn't worried that she had spied him.
There was a moment when Illusion just stared at the man. He's intimidating, she thought and tried to will her legs to move. But they wouldn't. Not yet.
The man lowered his gaze, making even more sure that she could not identify him, before slowly beginning to open the first set of buttons on his shirt. Illusion began to shake slightly; when the top half of the shirt was undone, a simple tattoo was revealed on his chest. The blue ink mingled around the red center. It was a rose.
Even though she was too far to see the details of the tattoo, Illusion recognized it at once. After all, growing up within the inner circle of the Russian Mafia, she had seen the initiation tattoo more times than she cared to remember. The rose on the chest.
Her curiosity satisfied, Illusion knew she had to get away. The man made no other move besides showing of his tattoo. He was the lowest sort of enforcer. It was his job to let her know that he had found her. He could do nothing more than that. She was safe, for the moment. So, instead of staring at her opponent, she turned again.
This time she ran. And she didn't stop until she reached the edge of the Brooklyn docks.
- - -
Spot Conlon was standing on his docks, overlooking his river, when he spied Illusion running towards him. He climbed down from his perch and crossed his arms. Though he exuded a strong façade, inside he was rather nervous. He knew Illusion; before they made it official a few weeks back, they had been friends for quite some time. Though the fair skinned girl, with her slight Eastern accent, kept much about herself hidden, Spot knew as much about as she would allow. And Illusion didn't hurry about as if she was afraid.
She didn't stop her run until she was a few steps away from him. She slowed to a walk then, and continued until she was standing next to him. "Hey," she said, trying to bring a smile to her face. She failed, and appeared as somber as normal, though with a hint of the fear that had plagued her most of the morning.
"Hey," he replied uncertainly. Then, because he was sure that Illusion wasn't going to say anything more than that, he reached out and pulled on her braid. "Interesting morning, Illusion? Have fun selling?"
Illusion began to nod but found that she was still too rattled to even try to look past what had happened. They finally caught up with me, she thought. She had been hiding from her family for too long now; she couldn't accept that they had found her. She steadied her head and looked over at Spot. The boy, just a bit shorter than she, was abandoning his normally cool exterior; his cyan eyes showed concern for her. He knew something was up.
Losing herself in his eyes, she tried to forget the image of the rose of the chest. She couldn't. And she would never tell Spot about it. She couldn't. She tried nodding again. This time her head obeyed and she felt it bob up and down. "I'm good, Spot," she said. "Just couldn't wait to get back to the docks, y'know."
He nodded, though he didn't believe a word she said, then shrugged. "Good," he answered and casually slung his arm around her shoulder. She would tell him when she could. Until then he would just wait. After all, if anyone knew about keeping things hidden, it was Spot. He had his own skeletons to hide.
Illusion held onto his arm, taking comfort in the weight it provided. The rose may still be out there, but for now she was safe.
