Chapter 10

Emotions

Riddick's POV

I felt her legs become less tense in my hands. I hear her words though they had taken me off guard. "You could do whatever you want to do to me anyway; you don't have to be someone else."

What the hell did she just say?

For one reason or another, I couldn't make sense of what I'd just heard. My brain wasn't willing to process the information. I had to hear that again.

Taking my hands from her legs I said, "What? What did you just say, Jack?"

She shot straight up on the couch, face to face with me, "I said, Richard, you could do anything you wanted to do to me; you don't have to be someone else."

My mouth fell open only just a crack though. I couldn't believe what she said. It didn't make sense. She's just a girl. I am far too old for her. Besides, she's Jack, she's the kid, she's… Right here, in front of me. She is so beautiful, so young and pure, so enchanting. Why is it I've never seen any of these things before? Why am I even looking?

Acting purely on instinct, I reached up and tore my goggles from my eyes so that I could look into her face properly. Apparently my quick movement startled her, or excited her, which ever, because she jumped further into my lap. As if I hadn't already had her close enough. What a stupid thing to say. Why did I word my sentence that way? And what's with her answer?

'She's drunk. That's it. She's just drunk and she's eighteen years old. She's eighteen fucking years old, Dickey! Get a grip on your self you sick mother fucker!'

Before I knew what happened, Jack knocked me back into the arm of the couch and was on top of me in seconds. She stared into my eyes as I stared back at her. Then, when I thought she'd changed her mind, she forced herself down on me and captured my mouth with hers. Her lips were so inviting, so soft and perfect. No. No. I can't do this. It isn't right, she's a kid and I'm an old man, she's eighteen!

Pushing her back by gently by her shoulders I said, "Jack, don't do that. You're drunk."

She tried to resist my pushing her, but I'm too strong for her. Finally she gave up and took her place back where she had previously been. She stared at me for what seemed like hours but was probably just a minute or two. I don't know what the hell she's looking at but I wish she'd stop.

"Riddick, I may be drunk, I may have been drinking tonight, but do you not realize how much you mean to me? I know you don't have great eye sight, and maybe I only show these things in the day light, but if you can't see that, then you're fucking blind. Do you honestly think I'm just a kid? Do you think on those nights I wake up screaming that I only have you stay in my bed with me because I want to go back to sleep? And really, do you think the reason you stay is just to appease the situation?"

I hadn't been expecting that. What do you say to something like that? What do you say to an angry eighteen year old girl? Nothing, if you expect them to hear your words, you say nothing.

I guess she noticed my struggling with what to say because she took it as a sign to continue with her thoughts. And I really wish she hadn't.

"Riddick, come on! You can't sit there and tell me you didn't know. Tell me you have no idea how I feel about you! You have been my everything; I am only alive because of you. I owe you my god damned life! I live here with you not because I have to, but because I want to. I stay here day after day while you go out and do god knows what, because I want to be here with you when you return. I ask you to stay in my bed with me at night because I want to feel you there beside me. And you stay because you want to be there, not because you have to. Everything I do is for you!"

I guess her emotions got the best of her because I knew, even before I saw the tears that she was going to cry. And so she did. I can't stand to see the kid cry. Even if she was just yelling at me, putting me in my place, it kills me to see this.

I reached out for her chin, "Jack…" she pulled away, "Jack, come on. Don't cry. Don't cry because of me."

That was the wrong thing to have said. And I know this because immediately she began to cry harder and started yell again. "God damn it! Riddick! Don't be so passive. I'm trying to tell you something here and…"

I cut her off. "AND!" My temper began to flare, "And, nothing, Jack! You are drunk. None of this will mean anything when you wake up. Don't you go and say things you wouldn't say to me if you hadn't been drinking. Because once you say something, you can't un-say it. It doesn't fucking work that way!"

As quickly as I could, I stood from the couch, knocking her feet from my lap. I had to get away from her. She's driving me crazy. Why did she have to do this? Why now?

End Riddick's POV


Riddick's temporary shouting caught Jack off guard. She hadn't meant to anger him so, but through her crying and yelling, she knew it was going to happen. Even though she knew he would never harm her, not in a million years, she didn't like to see him angry. Normally she wasn't the one that caused his temper to flare, but this time, it had in fact been her. Her intentions weren't to anger him; her intentions were to inform him. When it all began, she hadn't intended to do any of the things she'd done but there was nothing she could do about it now. She knew that her drinking had been the cause for the kiss and her words, but she could have stopped them if she had wanted to.

She abruptly stood up from the couch, turning her back on the now pacing Riddick. Wiping a few tears from her eyes as she walked the opposite way from him, around the couch, she sniffled and headed toward her room.

Just as she entered the doorway, she turned toward him, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe just maybe right now, since I have been drinking, I have finally built up the courage to tell you these things?" And with that, she flipped her light on and slid her door shut.

Her words hit Riddick hard. He half expected her to be saying the things she had said simply because she was drinking. Not because she actually felt them and only just built up enough valor to say them aloud. He had no response for her, not that she'd left him the time. Silently he cursed himself for being such a prick. But he knew, deep down, it wouldn't have been right for him to do anything, rather she did indeed feel so deeply about him or not. And the reason was, because she was drunk.

Richard Riddick may be a lot of things but one thing he is not is a man that takes advantage of drunken girls. He respects women over all others, holds them up on a pedestal so to say. His one rule in killing is no women or children. Women are the one thing he refuses to conquer.

Slowly, he stood in front of the television and turned off all of the mechanical equipment; causing the whole house, save for Jack's bedroom, to go black. Darkness, at this time, was his only comfort. An hour, at least, had passed and still he stood in the dark living room, alone with his thoughts. He wasn't sure what was worse, that he'd made her cry, or that he'd yelled at her for trying to express her self. Becoming aggravated with himself, he stormed into his bed room and slammed his door hard against the wall. Even as he stood in the darkness, he could see his reflection in his mirror, and it disgusted him. The mad that had caused so much pain on a night that was meant for fun, stood staring at him. Again, his anger flared as he slammed one massive fist into the mirror's surface. The man in the mirror quickly became thousands of men, all staring at him. Upon pulling his fist from the broken mirror, hundreds of thousands of fragments fell, causing a tinkling sound on his dresser. It was only after the tinkling sound that soft whimpers filled his ears. He knew just where they were coming from.

He shook the glass shards from his hand and slid his door open. Stepping out into the hall way, he could hear her cries more clearly and knew he had to do something, say something. He lifted the same hand he'd broken the mirror with, and gently knocked on her door.

"Jack?" He called.

She sniffed, "go away. Just leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you."

No, he wasn't going to go away. He'd done enough damage for the night and he needed to repair that damage. He turned his head as he cracked her door open just enough to get his hand in and turn the lights off. Once the lights were off, he slid the door open and walked in, closing it behind him.

"I said go away." She scolded from her place on her bed.

She'd been laying there the entire time crying. Riddick noticed her dress wadded up beside her bed and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere kid."

"Don't call me that! Don't call me anything! I hate you!" She yelled as she turned over in her bed, not facing him any longer.

He moved so quickly she hadn't even heard his foot steps. He was not standing right behind her, at the edge of her bed, staring down at her. For a moment or two, he considered leaving her room as she had asked but refused. He was going to right what he had wronged.

"Scoot over." He said.

Jack rolled over in her bed and glared up at him, "No! Didn't you hear what I said? I said I hate you now just leave me alone."

Kneeling down beside her bed, he locked eyes with her, in the dark, and replied. "You don't hate me, kid. And I don't hate you. Now scoot over."

Quietly, she moved over in her bed, leaving just enough room for him to lie down beside her. Once he was sure he could fit, Riddick slipped himself into her bed, pants, shirt and all, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his chest. Jack lay there silently, simply breathing in his masculine scent. She was so angry with him, so mad that he'd acted the way he had, but none of that mattered, not while he held her in his arms.

"Riddick," she said, tilting her head up.

"Mmm?"

"Riddick, I love you." She whispered.

He smiled as he looked down into those big orbs of hers. He knew she was telling the truth, she was saying this, not because she was drunk, but because she meant it. He could see it in her eyes. He brought one of his hands up and placed it under her chin. Leaning down, he brought her face close to his and crushed her lips with his, kissing her with every emotion that flowed within his body.

A/N: okay, I know it's crap and I apologize, but please don't be mad at me. And yes, I'm sure Riddick would never act the way he has in this chapter, but going where I am with him, there' sno other way for him to act. Really what does lie behind that bad ass facade? Sway