Rifle
Chapter Three
Elizah got home that night, locked the door behind her.
Jazz music rang through their apartment- the fireplace was lit… she was being expected. The smell of old candles and dust was overcome with the smell of Grilled Chicken and Marsala. "You always pick the most stressful days…" she set down her bag, it had a few journals and pens inside, the type of stuff she carried around those days.
"I just know, huh?" and he did. He always knew the days to cook dinner and play music. Her knew that through all the things that interested her, Music was in the top three. Love and food were in the top Five; warm atmospheres always made her relax.
"Been following me, have ya'?" she laughed.
"You know it." Bant chuckled, they had gone day in and day out to see if Aron was still breathing, through all that, even though she felt lonely, she knew he was trying to keep her from being that.
She couldn't help feeling alone, though, she had felt alone until she had met Aron, her first best friend, when she first entered the Spartans academy. They didn't fight alongside in the war, being part of different squadrons, but Bant had been there. Before long, Bant and her had ended up living together. Neither of them was ever sure where that came from. He was smart and attractive enough to meet her standards, and she was a mixture of tough and sweet enough to meet his.
Neither of them could pinpoint where the sparks started flying. It could have been when they were first put in that squadron together.
"Hey." He smiled at her, but she only replied a shy "Hi" She was so much more quiet back then, she almost didn't speak to any Males, let alone have any that were her friends…or her genuine friends, at least. One or two chased her tail at one time, but neither of them fit the standard she went by. Healthy body, smart, attractive enough to look at- I want cute kids, daggummit! They had started talking, and before long she was comfortable to talk to him casually.
Eventually, they became friends, and that grew.
"So… what's the food for? It's kind of late for dinner…" she walked into the kitchen to greet him. He was already putting the food in plastic containers. She thought it was funny that he knew she would have eaten out and cooked something anyways.
"You ate on the way here, didn't you?" he was already, packing the food into the fridge before she answered. He knew all too well her reply.
"Yeah…" she pursed her lips and looked to the floor.
"That's okay…" He walked over to her and held her. She liked that, but she was tired and yawned. She broke free and went back into their living room- laid down on the couch and turned off the music with the remote. Stared into the fireplace and all it's dancing magic.
It danced without a tune, without a beat, but to something else. It made it's own beat, chose it's own tune…but it was never to leave its place… and someone else always determined its lifespan. Someone who was bigger than the fire was. When it came down to it, though, the fire would win over its master. If it broke free, the master could do nothing of it…the master might die.
In the end, the puppet would become the master. The used would become the user- but eventually die out after it wrecked everything ever imaginable. After it became free, the world would end. Not only the world of the Ex-master, but also the world of the new master as well, as it died.
"What are you thinking about?" Bant. She didn't notice him kneel in front of the couch; she had been too busy looking at the majesty of flames. She shrugged. For the most part, she wasn't even sure what she was thinking of. It was Poetic… but it was in truth.
"Nothing…"
"You sure?" he looked at her more intently, wanting a real answer, he knew there was one, but he couldn't place it inside his own mind. To him, women were quite difficult to understand, let alone guess the thoughts of. The possibilities were endless, and especially with Elizah. He tried to lean in, maybe give her a kiss.
She rolled on the couch, so she wouldn't be facing him or the fire anymore. She stared at the back of the couch in silence.
He was confused; he could tell something was up. She never did this before. He felt like an idiot, I did something wrong… oh God. He just sat there still for a little. He couldn't understand why she would be such a hypocrite- one second being a passionate girl, the next being distant and staring off into space. She had just walked…rolled away.
He saw it. He saw how sometimes she shrunk back into that girl she used to be- scared and alone, untrusting… and definitely not one to even talk to him. He sat up and reached out his hand to scratch the top of her head, she had always liked that. Her right hand snapped back at him and hit his wrist, like some wild animal. She turned back to him angry- she was starting to cry.
"El…" he looked into her eyes, it was almost the only that they could communicate in this mode- eye contact. She had an angry and sad emotion in her eyes, tears were starting to form. That was besides that passionate longing she held, of course.
"You'll get it too." The first tear dripped down on her cheek- its friend followed it to escape from her eye. All the other tears realized the escape route, too, and soon followed.
She abruptly got up from couch and ran to her personal room, slamming the door shut. She always confused him like that, with her conflicting and random emotions. That was something he didn't like about women.
He couldn't hear her silent cries, but he knew they were there. The disease that was going around made her upset, made her untouchable and distant.
"Yeah, well, I'd rather die with you, stupid." He was tempted to yell, but he didn't. He only whispered it quietly to the fireplace as it died.