Chapter Two
I awoke to a dimly lit room. Closing my aching eyes, I rubbed the top of my head lightly. My hair was an absolute mess. I breathed in, only to choke slightly at the smell of myself. Wrinkling my nose in disapproval, I swung my legs off the edge of the bed, and as I did, the overhead lights flickered slowly to life around me. I noted that there was a topped platter on a T.V. Tray, much like the ones that you'd find in a hospital. I touched the lid, and sure enough, it was still warm.
Opening the container revealed a full plate of pancakes, with fruit on the side and a few little syrup packets. There was even a little plastic container that had powdered sugar in it. I ate slowly, saving the fruit until the end. The strawberries were the best; they were sweet on my tongue and I washed the meal down with the rest of my bottled water. Full, I stood leisurely and stretched, feeling the tightness in my back muscles. Now it was time for a shower.
I looked through the dresser, and found that the whole bottom drawer was devoted to towels and wash clothes. They were beige, just like the rest of the room, and I sighed at the lack of color. Before I undressed, my eyes warily searched the corners of the room for cameras, but I was unable to find anything that remotely resembled one. That was good. Wesker probably figured that a camera was useless in here, seeing as there was only one exit, and no windows. I fought the tears that threatened to break the surface, feeling as if I was doomed.
Undressing ceremoniously, and throwing my dirty jeans and tank top at the foot of the bed, I approached the shower. The linoleum was cold beneath my feet, and I shivered as I puzzled over the control panel. There was a small digital screen, with two little buttons, resembling the ones on an elevator; the call buttons. I pushed the UP button, and the little digital screen registered 85 degrees F. For a moment, nothing happened. Then hot water came raining down on my head, deliciously warm and encompassing. I sighed, and reached for the soap.
Wesker smiled. Claire had awoken, and his eyes roved her body on the little monitor; he would have to get a larger screen. She was stunningly beautiful. He'd just have to time his entrance right; but what he really wanted to do was walk right in there now, slam her frail-looking frame against the wall, and rut with her.
'Patience', he mentally reminded himself. He turned the monitor off, and walked out of his office towards Claire's room.
I pushed the down button, and the water stopped abruptly. I turned, and grabbed the towel that I had laid on the sink. I barely had it wrapped around me when the door swung open. Wesker stepped in, and I pulled the terry cloth around myself tighter.
"Dear heart..." He began, and then raised an eyebrow under his sunglasses. My throat tightened, and I took a step back. Fear began leeching into my veins, cold and rampant. The heart in my chest felt like it was attempting to fly out of my ribcage, and I retreated until my back hit the cold wet wall behind me. Wesker turned his back to me, making a show of averting his eyes.
"Get dressed." His voice was curt; but with a husky undertone to it that I hadn't heard before. I hurried to the dresser, and pulled out the first thing that my fingers touched. It was a simple dress, cornflower blue, spaghetti strap, with a plunging neckline. Not my personal taste, but none the less, I pulled it hastily over my head, and when that was done, I began to run the towel over my drenched hair.
"Okay, I'm decent." I muttered through the towel. He turned, and smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry, next time I'll knock." Wesker removed his sunglasses, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'll bring you some more supplies shortly. Do you have any special requests?"
I thought for a minute, standing in the middle of the room.
"Yes, a hair brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and some shampoo and conditioner. Maybe something to read; assuming that I'm going to be here for a few days." I sighed, and walked to the bed to stand in front of him. "How long am I going to be here?"
Wesker's face was thoughtful; I could almost hear the wheels turning in his brain. "That, my dear heart, depends entirely on you."
"Then I want to go. Now." I turned my icy gray eyes on him; I was a Redfield, and my brother and I shared the same 100 yard stare. He merely snickered, and shook his head in negation.
"Claire..." He paused, and gestured for me to sit next to him. I sat down, making sure to sit on the other end of the bed; his proximity was becoming a problem for me; his smell made my head spin. "I have a proposal for you." He seemed torn, and the silence began to stretch out, making me more and more uncomfortable.
"Which is?" I prodded him, trying to smooth out my riotous hair. At that, he slid closer to me, inches from my face. His eyes met mine, his smell making me feel faint. I sucked in a ragged breath, and opened my mouth to ask a question, when suddenly his lips were on mine. My eyes shot wide, and I brought up my hand to push at his chest, but the gentle shove didn't even seem to register with him. His hand came up to cup the back of my head, pulling my lips closer to his own, and I made a little sound of protest. My will was weakening, his tongue licked at my lips in an unspoken question. I couldn't resist any longer.
Wesker's lips were soft, warm, and I closed my eyes, sighing into his mouth as I opened my own lips to return the kiss. My hands slid over his chest, and I breathed in his intoxicating scent, moving my tongue over his teeth.
Then, as abruptly as the kiss had begun, it was over. He pulled back, holding my shoulders for a moment, searching my eyes for something. I opened my mouth to speak, but before a word could leave my lips, he was opening the door. It swung closed behind him, and the click of the lock sliding home seemed twice as cold.
His heart was beating a furious rhythm in his chest, and he clutched at it, the feeling foreign to him. He was having a heart attack; something was horribly wrong. Wesker stumbled into his office, breathing labored and heavy. The hand that held the needle was shaky; what the hell was this reaction?! He must run more tests; the virus MUST be mutating him; but somewhere in his panic-stricken brain, he realized that it wasn't himself.
That thought stopped his hand. He dropped the needle. It was her; Claire. The kiss had been unplanned, unthinking. He was the one who was supposed to be in control, but when she had opened to his advances, he had been utterly at a loss. Wesker's heart still thudded, but not as bad. He was starting to think coherently again; these reactions were just his body responding to hers. Taking a breath to steady himself, he sat down at his desk, and clicked on the monitor.
Claire sat there, just where he had left her. Her eyes were clamped on the door, and her mouth hung open a bit, making him chuckle. He shouldn't have left. His plan was coming together; but he had never had his heart react that way before. It no longer worried him; he'd just adjust to it. The feeling wasn't completely unwelcome, after all. This would be much more exciting. He hurried out of his office, decision made.
I was stunned. After a time, I realized that my mouth was hanging open, and I closed it abruptly. What was that all about? My head was still spinning, and his smell clung to me stubbornly. I had to get out of here.
Climbing to my feet, I rushed to the door and began pounding on it.
"Open this door, Wesker! Open it!" Tears streamed down my face, making me angrier at my current lack of freedom. And the man who was behind it.
Suddenly, I was no longer beating on the door, it was open and standing in front of me was the man whom I was so furious at. I launched myself at him, aiming for his eyes; my fingers curled into claws. He strode forward, knocking my hands down with ease and pinning them to my sides as he pulled me into a tight embrace. My feet were lifted off the ground, and he just stared down into my eyes as he carried me back to the bed. He tossed me effortlessly onto my back on the bed. Then he was over me, his lips pressing against my cheek as he pressed his body on top of mine, his hands roving down my ribcage to my hips; I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh.
I tried to crawl out from under him, clawing at his chest, his arms, his face. I bit his shoulder hard, the tears rolling down my face helplessly. He pinned my wrists above my head, staring into my eyes. He kissed my lips, and I turned my head, trying to avoid the contact, but his lips just followed my own; this kiss wasn't like the first one, this was urgent and demanding. The moment his lips touched my own, I couldn't think anymore.
Wesker's tongue wrestled with my own, his lips hot and insistent as he moved against me roughly. I kissed him back, anger forgotten as I breathed in his clean scent. I could feel the smile that briefly flashed across his lips as he let my wrist go. My hands came to the back of his head and I pulled his face down closer to my own, fingers running through his soft hair, surely mussing the carefully placed strands. He pulled his lips away, and kissed my cheek again, resting his head beside mine, his sharp breath tickling past my ear.
"I want you, Claire." His whispered words sent shivers running through my body. His hand rested on my leg, and I trembled as he rubbed his fingers gently under my dress. I felt overheated. The trembling increased as he ran his hand up my inner thigh, slowly rubbing just under my sex. My hips bucked up involuntarily, and that was all the invitation he needed to slide his finger into me. I cried out, moaning at the sensation building inside as he slid his digit in and out of me slowly. I could feel the wetness between my legs growing as his pace increased. The amber eyes he possessed burned into my own, his lips pressing against my own sweetly.
I thrashed beneath him, and he used his thumb to grind down on my clit, drawing circles around the little bud until suddenly I came in a great rush, crying out loudly. It was a moment before he pulled his fingers from my flesh, and I watched him, transfixed, as he brought them to his mouth and licked away my juices. Wesker's eyes slid shut as he savored the taste. I could only stare at him.
Embarrassment crept over me; he had used me, played me like a fiddle. The tears started anew.
Her release had been beyond beautiful. He couldn't help himself as he slid his fingers into his mouth, relishing the taste of her. When Wesker opened her eyes, he was distressed to see wetness on her cheeks.
"Claire, don't cry." Her eyes focused on his own, and that awful thumping started in his chest again. He ignored it.
"You...y-you..." She started, but burst into hysterical sobs. He kissed her cheek, kissed her nose, kissed every part of her face gently, until she nuzzled her face into his neck, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
"You asked me earlier why you were brought here. This was the reason." Her eyes flashed up at him, angry and indignant.
"You bastard!" Claire hissed out between clenched teeth. "Fuck you, Wesker! Get off of me! Let me go!" She pushed at him with all of her strength, but he was unyielding.
"Dear heart, don't fight me. You enjoyed that, didn't you? I can do so much more for you. To you." Wesker nibbled her collar bone with his lips, tasting her lightly with his tongue. She became very still for a moment, before doubling her efforts for escape. This time he relented, removing his body from over hers. He sat beside her, staring down at her.
"Don't you ever touch me again!" Claire scrambled from the bed, and backed herself into the corner of the room. "You tricked me! I don't want your vile hands to touch me! Stay away!"
Anger flitted across his visage, before Wesker stood and walked to the door. He opened it, but before exiting, he turned back to her.
"If you want to go back to your brother alive, you might want to re-think that."
Wesker slammed the door behind him, the boom echoing throughout the long corridor that attached his room to hers. He smiled; she'd come around sooner or later.
I sank down to the floor, clutching at the wall for support as my legs went to rubber beneath me. What had just happened?! Why did he want me for this? What the hell had I done to deserve this?!
I tore the dress from my sweat drenched body, and tossed it towards the door, intent only on getting his smell away from me. It landed way short of it's intended target, but I didn't really care. I sobbed pitifully, my head reeling. My body still ached for his hands; and at that moment, I hated myself more than I had ever hated Wesker. What had I done?