Masquerade Lovers
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Heartbreak
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Sam woke up, groggily, the next morning, as dawn rose, on top of the wooden benches on the roof of the WOOHP headquarters. It was such a beautiful sunrise, she thought, as the sky changed from complete darkness with only the moon and stars for illumination, to a purplish color, as the sun rose. So beautiful, she mused. Sam watched it in awe, as it cleared the cobwebs and the nausea she felt from sleeping.
She was briefly aware of a male presence, holding her close to his body, his warmth radiating through her own body, and snuggled in, before she realized what had happened last night. The moon-madness had cleared from her head, and her eyes widened. She was wide awake, and she was blushing at what she (and he) had done last night.
She was no innocent virgin any longer.
She eased herself from the warm embrace of the man she'd made love to last night and smiled as she pondered his sleeping form. In the daylight, he was pretty much as perfect as she remembered, in more ways than one. Everything about him seemed perfect to her, as she recalled the events of last night –
Her blush deepened. Her fingers gently traced the outline of his face, the dark brown hair, the strong jawline, and aquiline features, and rested on the mask. They had not removed the masks last night, preferring to preserve the anonymity the masks offered in the darkness of the night and light of the moon. In both cases, the masks had covered most of their faces, and hidden most of their features.
She wondered how his face was, under the mask. He seemed so peaceful now, with his hands around her waist.
Perhaps, she could –
Curiosity killed the cat, and it swept her with such a degree, that she no longer cared if his face was brutally scarred or not, or if he was horribly disfigured in some way or another. He was still the same man she made love to that fateful night of moon-madness, and she was convinced that they shared a bond too strong to be severed. She undid the mask –
And then wished she never did, or that she could be struck dead at that moment.
He wasn't disfigured, horribly scarred or anything. He was perfect and handsome –
But he was a villain.
He was Tim Scam, the Spies' sworn enemy.
Sam felt faint. She'd never fainted before, but if ever there was a time, she'd faint right now. Dead away. Somewhere in her mind, her inner voice was chastising her for giving in to moon-madness and falling in love with a villain, and giving him her virginity –
Sam shut her mind. No, she wasn't in love with Tim Scam. And, okay, the virginity thing was gone. She hadn't exactly been resistant –
She needed to get away from him. How could someone so evil and scarred in his soul be so perfect, as perfect as he had been for her last night? It made no sense. Sam was no psychologist, and already it made her head dizzy.
She tried to get up, but had forgotten his arms were still around her. Too confused to even feel the slightest bit revolted (which she should be feeling at the moment, she willed herself, trying to push away the pleasant memories of last night into a box in her subconscious she could lock and throw the key away to where it could never be found), she fell back with an oomph, effectively waking him up. Just her luck. His eyes, warm and fascinating, opened they had looked at her with such tenderness last night – how could that even be possible?), and a smile tugged on his lips, before vanishing on her confused and frightened face. "What's wrong?" He asked, in a voice full of concern, raising himself up, and taking her by her hands.
How could he do that, sound so loving, when he hated her? How was it that he was even capable of sounding like that? He was a sociopath, for goodness' sake!
In all the confusion, she sagged against him, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. This wasn't supposed to happen! She cursed silently. I was supposed to find my Prince Charming – who wasn't one of my sworn enemies – and marry him and live happily ever after.
She remembered what he said last night:
"Whoever you are," he said, lowering down for another kiss, "if you knew who I was, I doubt you would do anything of this sort with me."
Oh, how true his words had been at that point! And yet – Sam didn't regret what she had done. She only regretted that it had to be him.
"Why did it have to be you?" She sobbed into his chest. "Why did it have to be you? Why?" She looked up at him, willing his features to change. His face now had a puzzled expression, and his hand went up, unconsciously, to touch his face. When it came across where the mask should have been, he froze.
"Why?" he said, in a strangled voice. Sam only continued to cry softly. The same hand left his face to stroke her cheek. "But it doesn't change the way I feel about you."
"Please," Sam said. "You don't even know me."
He tilted her chin, and try as she might, she couldn't look away from his face. He saw everything she felt in her face: disappointment, anger, regret, confusion – and yet there was softness in her face, which he would have dared to call tenderness. But that softness was disappearing from her face. Would she forget everything that happened last night? He was sure last night meant just as much to her as it had for him.
The moon must still be affecting my spirits, he mused, somewhat amused by the change in events.
"Just because I'm a villain does not mean I am incapable of love, you know," he whispered, as his hot breath chilled her to her spine. "I thought I had been incapable of such a weak emotion, but – you are my weakness. I certainly hope the Spies trio won't find out, or I'm afraid you may be harmed."
Sam felt sick to her stomach. He was concerned for her well-being?
"Dear me, but I adore you," he said, pulling her close to him with his other hand around your waist. "Which reminds me, I still don't know who you are."
He moved so close, and, possessed with this wild idea that he was going to kiss her (actually, it wasn't so weird, because last night they did more than kiss), ran off. It was better he didn't know who she was, she thought. Better to avoid all the shame and embarrassment.
But he was too quick. Belatedly, she realized, him having been a WOOHP agent meant that he must be as good as fighting as she was, when it came down to that. He gripped her, in a death-like vice on her wrist that made her feel a little numb. "Please don't go," he said, as he ripped of her mask, but on seeing her face, streaked with tears, he froze in shock, comprehension dawning.
Sam didn't wait to see the expression on his face, as she turned away, running. Her bracelet slipped off her wrist, but she didn't notice it, as it fell onto the floor, where Scam picked it up. All she could think of was to get away, to go home, as tears continued to stream down her face and she, realized, all too late, that her heart had been shattered, broken into tiny pieces. Which was absurd, because she convinced herself she didn't love him to begin with.
She didn't realize how this revelation had shattered his world, and left him behind, confused, and for the first time, unsure of his next course of action.
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Author's Note
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The revelation. I think this chapter was pretty predictable, but I love it, just as I love other S/cam moments. The angst is in.
I am so mean. :P
Read and review and I'll update soon,
lianneharmony
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References
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No particular references, but I think you'd remember the scene in Cinderella where Cinderella loses her glass slipper. That pretty much influenced the scene where Sam's bracelet slips off her wrist. :)
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Shoutouts
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Thanks to Poison's Ivy, Cresenta's Lark and Beth! You guys are awesome for reviewing! :)