Juliet sat on the edge of her bed, her toes barely brushing the cold wooden floor. She stared at the wall across from her, listening to the wind rocking the branches of the tree outside her bedroom window. She had only just gotten home. She knew that she had until six for Arthur to return from the firm, and she was cherishing these moments of peace. She wanted to pretend that she didn't have homework to grade or lessons to plan. She had felt so tired lately… Juliet knew she looked haggard; her students had told her just that for the past three days. In a week she would bounce back, but for now, what Arthur had put her through was wearing her down. She tried in vain for the umpteenth time to block it out, but she could still feel those icy, spidery fingers holding her down. That voice hissing horrible things in her ear. Some of the bruises still remained on her thighs.
She rubbed her arms and shuddered, though there was no chill in the room she was unused to. She had but three hours, if that, before another long evening with her husband began again.
This would never do. All this… moping. There were things to be done, and here she was wasting her precious time. If she kept this staring contest with the wallpaper up for much longer, why, that would mean Arthur had won whatever sick game he always insisted on playing with her. If she cowered under her blankets and crept around her own house on tiptoe he would laugh and feel a triumph Juliet sincerely loathed to give him. No, she wouldn't cower anymore. There had been quite enough of that this week. To emphasize this thought, she stood up quickly and strode to her closet. Off with these pajamas she had so hurriedly changed into when she arrived home. Comfortable things to make her feel better, like security blankets. These were for sleeping in. She was a grown woman and her life was in control, and she would dress like it. She nodded to herself as she pushed aside her clothes hanging in her closet, searching for something to show to Arthur she wasn't quite so broken just yet. His punishments were becoming routine. Yes, even the forced sex… it wasn't the first time he had proven to her that she belonged solely to him.
She knew it wasn't going to be the last.
Just like the series of things she had to tell herself in order to keep her head up day after day. Be patient, you've made it this far. You'll find your way out soon. She was smart enough to know that Arthur was never going to change. She didn't need him to change. She needed a way for her to be able to cut all ties with him without shooting herself in the foot in the process. Arthur had more connections than most people knew about. A majority of these connections existed on the wrong side of the law. Juliet only knew that from things she had heard him say over the phone or from papers she had found lying around his office or their bedroom detailing money transfers that didn't seem quite right to companies that she had never heard of. To leave him could spell years of suffering in a completely different way, could ruin her. So she had to remind herself that her way out would come. He would get bored, perhaps. Divorce her, leave her for some other woman. Someone thinner, fair-haired, prettier. Naïve, like Juliet herself had once been…
The thought made her sick. She didn't want that, either. She didn't want another woman to suffer as she had for more than ten years.
She could manage it.
She was strong enough to continue taking it, she felt.
She took down a simple green dress and held it up to herself in the mirror, deflating slightly as she took in the image of herself. God, how she hated mirrors. Every part of her looked so… swollen and disproportioned. Her hair was too curly, her face too round, too pink. Her arms were too short, too soft, as they held the dress over her front. She could see the round form of her stomach under the fabric, and her hips were clearly visible behind the dress. It was Arthur's voice pointing out all these flaws, all these things that would make her undesirable to anyone else. It was Arthur's voice telling her how fortunate she was to be married to such a successful lawyer and how she mustn't ever get any ideas about pride or even contentment in her physical form. Juliet never tried to shake these sorts of thoughts away.
These were the things she had come to accept as true.
The Englishwoman turned away from the mirror and steeled herself, undoing the buttons of her dress. No, she had already made up her mind to be dressed, and would not be derailed. Besides, whispered a voice in her head, You have somewhere to be this afternoon… Juliet took a sharp intake of breath, her hands freezing on the dress. She had forgotten about the haphazardly-thrown-together plans she had made with the man down the street. Hesitantly, she stepped into the dress and pulled it up over her hips. Oh, he wasn't serious. He couldn't have been.
He looked serious enough, answered the voice. Juliet turned pink and huffed as she buttoned her dress up the front. Nonsense. Besides, they hadn't said a word to each other since he had returned her purse over the weekend. She hadn't even passed his house except in her car to go to work, and even then, she hadn't seen him toiling in his yard, not so early in the morning, and not when she returned in the afternoon (though the sprinklers were on at both these times each day). He must have forgotten all about it by now. She pulled on a pair of stockings and sat on the edge of her bed, adjusting the fabric on her legs, and tried to ignore how tight the material was. How silly would she feel if she walked to his home under the assumption their paper-thin planning was still on? That would be putting the poor man on the spot, obligated either to invite her in or turn her away. Both would be awkward, she knew.
Nonetheless, she found herself walking to her vanity and sliding on a small pearl bracelet. She picked up the matching earrings and flipped her hair out of the way, focusing on her own eyes rather than how chubby her fingers were as they grappled with the small backs of each stud.
Perhaps if she walked by his house again he would be out there in the yard. Maybe then he would remember his invitation, or they could start talking again, their special sort of banter, and then he could invite her in. That could work. She was bemused at her own rationalizing and scheming in order to gain access to Reginald Skarr's house again. For Heaven's sakes, he was just one man. A strange man at that. And what was one afternoon missed? She could stay at home instead. Avoid the whole encounter, there's an idea.
As with most women, however, Juliet did not enjoy being all dressed up with nowhere to go. Besides, she had already put on her good jewelry.
She also reasoned that she wouldn't stay very long anyway, she only had a little less than three hours free, and didn't want to spend them all switching back and forth between blushing and yelling with the neighbor man.
Juliet applied fresh lipstick and replaced the cap on the tube, comforting herself more and more with each passing thought.
A quick pop-in.
If she wasn't received, she would merely thank him for returning her purse. There, that's a sound reason, isn't it? She had left herself with no other choice and no further excuses to avoid going. All her bases covered, as it were.
And she would hate to have wasted all the effort it took to fix her pantyhose just right.
Annoying things, stockings.
She slipped her tiny feet into a pair of heels. Why wear heels? It wasn't a long walk, but it was still a walk. And who was she trying to impress with the shoes and dress?
Him, the voice suggested flatly. Juliet puffed her cheeks in annoyance at none other than herself. Stop all that thinking. You know how you get when you overthink. You'll embarrass yourself in front of yourself. Become flustered. Change your mind. You've done enough of that already.
She picked her purse up from the dresser as she left her bedroom, her blush not fading from her face in the slightest.

Juliet took very special care not to glance at Billy's house when she passed it, just in case the boy was watching and could take her sideways look as a challenge.
She had enough of a headache as it was, and being assaulted again was not on her agenda. Instead she gripped her bag tighter and lifted her chin as she walked down the sidewalk, slowly passing the boy's front gate. Inwardly she felt she should be a bit more skittish. Not because of Billy, no, but because of Arthur. After all, once Skarr had left her front steps, her husband had been so infuriated by what the man had implied that he had seen fit to reclaim what he called his "strayed sheep". If he caught that same sheep returning to a place he had all but banned her from, she would surely suffer the consequences.
Juliet told herself that she would suffer regardless, and Arthur would not be home until six anyway. Six at the earliest. He may stay late. But never before six. It wasn't quite four as of yet. She had time. She mustn't worry so.
Still, the anxious feeling that gripped her chest refused to fade. In fact, it seemed to tighten when she pushed the wooden gate open and began to walk towards Reginald's house. Well, this wouldn't do. If this sort of thing kept up, she would collapse from lack of air. Juliet forced herself to take a deep breath, hands trembling for some odd reason as she climbed the few steps to the front door.
Was she really so afraid of Arthur's wrath? She didn't think she was. But, the mind is a funny thing. Hilarious how it made her knees shake while she stood there, feeling for all the world like a big bowl of green Jell-O. Ridiculous. Get a grip, Juliet, her inner voice, suddenly impatient, commanded. The woman took another deep breath to ease her shaking, and lifted a hand to ring the doorbell. The chime had hardly started to sound when the door swung open.
"I was starting to think you weren't coming," her neighbor said as soon as the door was wide enough to allow him to see her. Juliet blinked and withdrew her hand quickly.
"I-I'm sorry," she began, "We never settled on a time… I-I've only just gotten off of work." Her explanation sounded lame, but to him it appeared to be a revelation.
"Work?" he asked, as though the idea were foreign. It hadn't occurred to him that Juliet might actually do something other than stay at home, pester him, or go to the market. But of course she did. It was stupid of him to think otherwise, and he recovered from his surprise.
"Right, right, right. Of course," he waved the sentence away as if it were an obnoxious fly, "That would explain it. All my fault for not settling on a time—"
"No, no, it was mine. I didn't tell you my hours of work," Juliet insisted, touching a hand to her collar.
"I never asked," Skarr pointed out.
"I never asked yours."
"Mine weren't relevant."
"They're relevant now."
Skarr paused, then stepped aside.
"Something we can discuss over tea, I'm sure," he offered, motioning to the hall behind him. She tilted her head, smiled slightly, and stepped inside.
The hall darkened considerably when the door shut behind her, as it had on her first visit.
"Tea?" Juliet asked, turning slightly. He walked around her and led her into his kitchen.
"I have fresh pot brewing," he replied, motioning to a kettle on the stove. Juliet set her bag down on the table, but kept her hand on it in case she were to forget about it and leave it again. Now that she was here, though, she wasn't in any sort of hurry to leave. Skarr seemed to just look at her for a moment, and a quick flash of self-consciousness flared in her chest. It was squelched when he hurriedly took hold of a chair and pulled it out from the table.
"Excuse my… manners. Please, have a seat," he said quickly. Juliet blinked and blushed a soft pink, sitting down in the offered chair carefully.
"Thank you."
"Of course. He turned and busied himself with something on the far counter.
"May I offer you something to eat?" he asked lightly, turning around with a plate of cookies, "They're snicker doodles. Still warm." Juliet looked between the man and his treats.
"Still warm? You made them?" He straightened and set the plate down on the kitchen table.
"I bake on occasion," he answered nonchalantly. Juliet said nothing, only scrutinized him while his back was turned. Who was this man? He seemed more like an enigma with every little thing she learned about him. Was he not the same man that had screamed at her on his doorstep a month ago, covered in blood and seething with rage? Was he not the man that had boiled her blood on multiple occasions with only a few short sentences? How could they be him? The Reginald Skarr she saw before her wore a pink, button-up, short-sleeved shirt and white khakis, and was meticulously arranging his homemade snicker doodles for her to enjoy.
It boggled her mind. He looked over his shoulder when he had finished with the cookies and caught her staring at him. Juliet blinked and looked away, not fast enough. He turned his body and crossed his arms, looking down at her.
"Something interesting on the back of my head, is there?"
"N-no, no, I'm sorry… My mind was someplace else," Juliet covered quickly, waving a hand lightly as if to dismiss her being caught in the act.
"Oh? And where was it?" he inquired, almost innocently. Juliet shook her head slightly.
"Just… wandering." Skarr droned, unconvinced, but did not press. Instead he leaned on the kitchen table, tilting his head at her. It was his turn to scrutinize. She busied herself with a cookie and pretended not to notice his unnerving stare.
"…now then," he began after a minute, "Where is it you work? I'd like to know what kept you from me all day." He thought about the sentence a second too late, and in response tried to cover for himself, "Seeing as I spent all morning thinking you had decided keeping your plans with me was not worth your time." Juliet looked up from the treat in her hands and shook her head quickly.
"Oh, no!" she said, "No, I wasn't… I wouldn't do that." She motioned out the window in a vain attempt to draw his gaze away from her, "I'm a schoolteacher… I teach fourth year students at Endsville Elementary School."
The kettle began to whistle shrilly, and Skarr crossed over to the stove to appease the screeching appliance.
"Hm."
Juliet didn't know what to make of this grunt. She thought it best to wait and see if he would say something else before offering more information.
"Do you enjoy working there?" he asked as he poured two cups of tea. His tone was one of polite interest. Almost textbook. Juliet looked back down at her snicker doodle.
"… I enjoy teaching very much."
"That isn't what I asked," the man replied crisply, walking back to the table and setting her cup and saucer in front of her. He took a seat across the small table, fixing her in that stare of his. Juliet fiddled with the cookie. Skarr snorted lightly.
"That's what I thought. I, myself, cannot stand the place. Like an institution for crazed baboons instead of a learning facility for snot-nosed little brats." His tone was just as cool as before, even just as positive-sounding and polite. Juliet looked up and held her cookie closer to her.
"You've been?"
"I work there."
"You do!" she exclaimed, sitting up straighter.
"You're making a mess," Skarr said lowly, frowning at her, specifically the slightly-crushed snicker doodle in her hands. Juliet hurriedly set the cookie aside.
"Excuse me… I suppose I'm just surprised. What is it you do there?" Skarr's frown remained concrete on his face.
"The same thing I do for the courthouse and the hospital, whenever they decide they would like a bit more than mediocrity: I landscape." This time, he was the one who motioned out the window, outside of which sprawled his frankly fantastic garden. He looked back at her, the barest hint of pride in his eyes, hugely reflected in an arrogant smirk.
"The school is the only place I work for that you might consider full-time," he went on, "…because the brats they let run amok in that building do unspeakable things to the lawn around it. Horrible things, Juliet. You have no idea…" He bared his teeth and lifted his cup, taking a quick sip. Juliet winced. She had some idea, actually.
"…I haven't seen you there," she remarked. Skarr set his cup back down.
"I forgot how often teachers herd their little pests out of doors for lessons."
Juliet huffed, lifting her own cup and blowing on the tea gently.
"Yes, well… I have been working there a month."
"I only stay long enough to do a bit of damage control. During the day, it's pointless. Those little monkeys will wreck whatever I put time into when you let them outside to relieve themselves."
"Recess."
"Again, you have no idea the atrocities they'll commit on a perfect carpet of grass." Juliet grimaced and took a sip.
"I see… and, I believe you…"
"You should. Now, I usually arrive at about ten in the morning and stay till twelve. Then I go back later in the evening sometimes to ease the next day's burden."
"Well, it's little wonder I haven't seen you. At ten I have class and at twelve I monitor the cafeteria."
"You have a disgusting career, Juliet." Juliet puffed her cheeks indignantly.
"Excuse me?" she demanded. Skarr shrugged slightly and took another sip of his tea. Juliet scowled and huffed, looking down at her own cup.
"This is Oriental," she stated flatly. Skarr nodded.
"Certainly better than anything you prefer, woman." Juliet wrinkled her nose in response, sniffing the flowery perfume of the drink.
"I prefer Earl Grey," she responded haughtily, setting the cup back on its saucer. Skarr reached over and took a snicker doodle from the pile.
"Earl Grey tastes like damp carpet," he sniffed, before taking a bite.
"Oh!" Juliet turned slightly pinker in irritation, "What a rude thing to say!"
"Rude, but true."
"Being true doesn't make it any less rude."
"Being rude doesn't make it any less true. Sometimes quite the opposite." Juliet picked up her cup with disdain.
"And I suppose you've had so much damp carpet in your life that you know precisely what it tastes like and as such are an expert in the comparison between that and my favorite tea?"
"Something of an expert. I've had a few women in my time, you know. I will admit they didn't all possess exactly the same flavor, however." Juliet choked on her tea and nearly dropped her cup. As she quickly replaced it and coughed loudly, gasping for a breath and flushed red in her face, Skarr didn't so much as blink.
"But no matter the subtle differences, damp carpet is damp carpet, and your tea tastes almost exactly like it," he continued carelessly, taking another cookie. Juliet still had not yet regained her breath. He regarded her curiously.
"Are you alright?"
"How… H-how could you-?!" His eyebrow arched slightly, waiting for her to gather her breath or her senses, whichever she needed most to complete the sentence.
"Why would you say such a thing? That's awful!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heaving chest.
"It's true. And let me stop you there before we start to repeat our conversations. That would be dull and pointless. Now, accept the fact that your 'favorite tea' tastes like a woman in the throes of oral pleasuring and move on. I think perhaps you and I could have lunch together one day while at work." Juliet spluttered at his sudden change of topic, still reeling from his bluntness.
"B… what?"
"Lunch," he repeated, "If not, I would only come home to eat. I can manage to stay an extra thirty minutes if you would eat with me, however."
"Will you be making any more lewd comments?!" she accused loudly. He chuckled.
It wasn't a particularly friendly sound.
The way his eyes were narrowed, it didn't look humored, either.
"Oh, it's quite possible, my dear. I told you once before: I am not a decent person. I have no sense of propriety," he droned, swirling a hand in the air dramatically, his sarcasm practically dripping out of his pores, "As such, I could very likely tell you all sorts of lewd things. Much worse than that. Then again, perhaps not quite so bad as well. Perhaps nothing lewd at all. It's a gamble, Juliet."
The schoolteacher glared across the table, still a soft red.
"I would prefer not to hear such things."
"I would prefer not to toil away at a half-dead lawn day after day just so some more naughty brats can ruin it beyond recognition in a few hours. Sometimes we don't get what we want."
"Then I shall not eat lunch with you."
"Then you will miss out on all the horrible things I could say." Juliet crossed her arms across her chest.
"That's precisely the point." Skarr chuckled his in his menacing way again, and she turned slightly redder. Not from anger, though, that she knew.
"Oh, but don't do that," he said lowly, sipping his tea, "You'll make me think you don't want to hear them."
"I don't," she insisted. Skarr tisked, looking down at his steaming cup.
"Oh, but I think you do…" This time her answer was not so quick. She blushed a darker shade of red and looked down at her own cup.

Skarr watched her avoid his gaze just like she was avoiding his accusation. What an odd woman. She wore it on her face, didn't she know that? It wasn't just anger that brought about that tomato-red blush on her cheeks, nor could it be just embarrassment. Silence hung in the air, and for once he was willing to let it for a bit.
It would give the neighbor woman time to stew in her own thoughts.
Time to ponder her next sentence.
Truthfully, Skarr was gambling. If he pushed too much, he may infuriate her beyond repair and she would leave in a huff, joining all the other neighbors in their unspoken (or perhaps occasionally-spoken) dislike of him. However, he knew if he did not push at all, she would certainly never take any leap of faith. He was gauging her responses, her reactions to everything he said. Clearly she was uncomfortable about the topic of sex.
How stuffy.
That being the case, he would certainly use it to his advantage, use it to drive the woman into a tizzy, a little ruffled ball of embarrassment and frustration.
"Come now, Juliet," he said eventually, "You can't just ignore me. You're my guest. You have certain obligations in my house just as I do." He looked back to his cup and finished the last of his tea. Juliet looked up quickly and said:
"I'm married."
This statement threw him for only a second. He did not allow it to show. Instead he took his third snicker doodle from the plate and tilted his head at it in a studying way.
"Yes, I know. I don't believe that's relevant though. Do you?" There was an accusatory tone in his voice, and she blanched.
"My husband… would not appreciate a lewd conversation, sir… Or… lunch with another man."
"I take it he does not approve of much." Juliet said nothing, and he took a bite of his cookie. He chewed for a bit, thinking while he looked over her determined, slightly suspicious face, then swallowed.
"He would only disapprove of the conversations if you told him about the conversations, which I doubt you would do, as that would require explaining what was said and you don't strike me as the sort to repeat words such as 'fucking' or 'fellatio'." Juliet pursed her lips tightly and furrowed her brow in a disdainful way. He continued as though he did not notice, and his smirk edged its way back onto his features.
"Furthermore, we would only be having lunch. That's only forty-five minutes or so, and in a crowded cafeteria loaded with screaming, smelly children and various messes on the floors and walls. What is it? Do you think he would be jealous?" Juliet looked down at her lap and folded her hands. Skarr finished his cookie and waited for her to respond, adding: "He's also a complete arse." Juliet frowned at his choice of words, but did not protest.
"…I suppose I could manage lunch between two coworkers…" she said softly. Skarr's chest tightened suddenly, and he nearly winced at the sensation. Instead, he stood up, taking both their cups to the sink and rinsing them out. He set them on the rack to dry and looked back at her.
"There now. No harm will come of it, so no need to look as though you may vomit. I keep my floors very clean." Juliet frowned at him, and he continued to smirk.
"Oh, don't look like that… You haven't heard half of the horrible things I usually think. I keep them to myself."
"Well, what a relief," she said sarcastically.
"Of course," he went on, going back to the table, "That was before I was aware I could infuriate you with such simple sentences. It's a fascinating thing, really. I look forward to finding out what else makes you blush." At the mere thought, she immediately turned red again. He flashed his teeth in a wicked, cruel grin, and she shivered.
He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly.
"Chilly…?" he asked, tilting his chin up and looking at her past his nose. Juliet shook her head, blushing darker.
"No. Not at all."
"It's warm in here to you, then?"
"Ye-no." Juliet swallowed hard, "No, no, not… I'm not warm. It isn't… warm in here. I'm… quite comfortable." He narrowed his eyes, looking once more like a cat that had caught a mouse. She shifted in her chair slightly under his penetrating gaze.
"Are you sure? You look a bit… constricted." The woman looked away quickly.
"I'm perfectly fine. May we discuss something else?" Skarr shook his head.
"I'm afraid not, Juliet. You see, interrogation used to be one of my special skills. I enjoyed it quite a bit. Something of a talent, really, though I will admit to being a little… rusty." He leaned forward on his elbows, locking his finger together.
"Why? Do I make you uncomfortable? Uneasy?" Juliet hesitated, and he went ahead.
"That's perfectly fine, my dear. Acceptable. Partially my goal." She narrowed her steely gray eyes at him.
"Your… goal?" He nodded once.
"I'm an odd man," he admitted, "And more than a little curious. I want to see precisely how strange you are, Juliet. You've already proven to me that you are not exactly normal." Before she could protest or question him, he cut her off.
"Let's not pretend you don't know what I'm talking about when I mention your last visit." As if on cue, her blush intensified.
"There now, no use in denying that fiery shade on your cheeks, hm?" Skarr drummed his fingers on the table lightly, "All I ask of you for now, Juliet, is that you have lunch with me tomorrow. If it fails, then it fails, and we can both pretend that we are nothing more than neighbors and cannot be friends…" he practically hissed the word, his jaw clenched, "…but if it succeeds against all odds and we hit it off with that little session, it will become a permanent part of your schedule. Sound fair?" Juliet blinked.
"…you mean… all this to try and be friends?"
"It's a start, hm? And don't say it like that, as if it's strange."
"It is strange."
"Well, the way I see it…" he started lowly, looking to the potted centerpiece beside his hands, "I don't completely loathe your company. I despise the school. I assume it's beneficial to my blood pressure to talk out my anger rather than bottle it up until it explodes in a fit of blind rage on one of the neighborhood dogs. And you… well, you need something just a little different… don't you, Juliet?"
The woman stared at him hard, so clearly trying to fend off her blush.
"…Alright, Reginald. We can certainly have lunch tomorrow."
"Excellent. And we will also do this again tomorrow."
"This? You mean—"
"You can come over while your husband is out." Juliet paused.
"…you make it sound so—"
"Naughty?" His lips curved in a crooked grin, like a crack creeping across a piece of glass in which his now-visible teeth were the shards.
"Oh, Juliet. It's that exactly."