Copyright disclaimer: Imagine a world where Ghirahim actually expresses his feelings without being a dick... Yeah. Like that'd happen. The probability of that is about equal to that of me owning the Legend of Zelda. Meaning that I do not own the Legend of Zelda. Okay bye.

CHAPTER 19: Cold Passions

Fridays were days when the sun was shining and and great things happened. It was the kind of day where you could find yourself smiling at the prospect of the weekend.

Regardless of this universal law, I awoke on this cloudy Friday morning with a headache that felt as if someone had stabbed a dagger through my temple. It was five thirty, so I went back to bed in hopes of easing the pain but almost overslept as a result, and my head still hurt like hell.

From the very beginning, this day seemed bleak.

At SkyCorp, I holed myself up in my office to do extra research. I called the company that supplied the Sandglider before they left port—a petrol company. The cargo found on the Sandglider was nothing but large barrels of it.
Though I was trying to collect information on the ship, the company's manager had a heavy, monotonous accent that I could hardly understand.

There was a knock on my door. I covered the mic to the phone.
"Come in," I said. The door opened, and there stood Keet with Horwell behind him. I waved Keet over and handed him the phone. He learned new languages for his own enjoyment, so hopefully he'd know this man's native language.

He listened for a moment and sat on my desk, then launched into speaking a deep, guttural drawl.
"What did you want to ask him?" Keet said to me.

"If he could fax over the inventory," I replied. Keet began speaking again, and I turned to Horwell.

"Morning," I said.

"Good morning," he replied. "We came to check on you."

"Oh, that's it?" I thought there was a new development in the case, so them coming to see me just for the heck of it was a surprise.

"Don't sound so happy to see us," Horwell joked. He pulled my cheek. "You look pale. Did you sleep at all last night?"

I sighed. "I slept more last night than I have in a month."

"Tell me if you feel worse, okay? I can plead your case to have the rest of the day off."

That's not going to happen. "Alright."

Keet hung up the phone.
"He said he would fax it again."

"Again?" Horwell asked.

"I think someone called before Link did."

"Really? Who?"

"I guess it doesn't matter. We'll have two copies of it now," Keet said. "Well, I have a desk to go sleep at. Ciao." He left, and Horwell ruffled my hair.

"Don't work too hard, okay?" Horwell headed to his old office, which was on the other side of the floor from mine. Ever since he resigned, it wasn't in use, but he occupied it like he had never left.

At noon, Skyloft City was covered in a downpour of freezing rain. It was breathtaking to watch from my window. Everything was covered in a layer of ice, and it almost made it seem like the world was melting, though it was the opposite.

The telephone rang, it was a call from Fi.
"Detective, there's a man here that says he knows something about the case. He has a guest pass. He says he'll only speak with you, shall I bring him up?"

"Please do." Anticipation bubbled up in my stomach. I wonder what he knew? I hope it would be beneficial for the case. Maybe the man was from outside of Skyloft, or a family member of someone from the crew. But I wondered how he knew that we were investigating, or why he wanted to speak with me.

"Detective?" Fi said from the other side of the closed door. "I've brought him."

"Come in," I said. Fi opened the door, bowed, and left. I lifted my eyes up to the demon in the doorway.

It was obviously Ghirahim, hoping to disguise himself by wearing a thick pair of glasses and a suit. He'd tucked his long bangs behind his ear, and the expression on his face was anything but friendly. The diamond-shaped tattoo under his left eye was much more noticeable.

He closed the door and turned the lock on the doorknob.

"What are you doing here?" I asked accusingly as I stood from my desk. More than surprised that he was there, I was shocked that he would act so recklessly. If he went through all the effort to blackmail me, the conditions being I don't tell anyone about him, why would he come to the one place where everyone I knew congregated?

"You know how to make my blood boil," he said quietly, walking to me. I found myself backing away. "You are a futile existence in an even larger city of futility." He slipped out of his suit jacket and I froze.
Wrapped around his stomach was a row of dynamite, different colored wires tangled around the tops of the sticks. On his belt he had three grenades and what I surmised to be smoke bombs. He had a dual gun holster strapped across his chest.

I watched in fear as he reached for the dynamite. My vision was blurring; I was becoming a little dizzy. I remembered that Nurse Wren told me to stay away from stressful situations because it would just prolong my pain.

Instead of detonating anything, though, he took the dynamite off by untying something on his back. He placed it carefully on the floor and removed his belt loaded with explosives, setting it atop the dynamite. He pulled his guns from their holsters and dropped them on the ground.

He glared and took a step forward. I took a step back, getting closer to the window. He didn't take his eyes off of me, and I tried not to break the eye contact as it was some sort of intimidation but I couldn't see straight and my head was reeling. Another step forward for him, another step back for me.

Finally, he stopped. There was no more than a foot between us, and he still looked angry. I was more worried about the pile of weaponry on the ground, though that seemed to be a mistake.

Ghirahim said something under his breath. I was going to tell him that it would be best for him to quickly leave before someone noticed that he attacked the security guards—that was the only way he could have gotten through the security check.

I was going to tell him, but he put his hands on my shoulders and slammed me against the window. My head knocked against it loudly and it felt as if the entire world were tipping over. My eyes could only focus on something for a few seconds, then everything would blur again. I was becoming increasingly tired.

"You are nothing," Ghirahim muttered angrily. "Why must you torment me so!?" he shouted, banging a fist against the window. The glass on my back was cold, and the rain picked up.

"I never intended to torment you," I explained quietly. "Please—"

"Of course it was never your intent," Ghirahim snorted. "But you simply do not seem to understand. So I will make it painfully clear to you, detective," he said, digging the fingers of one hand into my shoulder and using the other hand to unbutton my shirt.

"What are you doing?" I began to say, but he cut me off.

"You and I, detective, are bound by a red string." He said, unbuckling my belt. I tried to push him off, to tell him to stop, but his grip only tightened and he seemed to be unable to hear me no matter how much I spoke.
I didn't know how much I could resist before he became more irritated, because, knowing him, bombs cloud have been planted in other parts of the building.

"Our red string has an infinite number of knots, and we are so tangled in it that we have even transcended the bonds of time." I had no idea what poetic nonsense he was spouting, but the more he spoke, the more of my clothing he peeled off.
"Even so, even so, it appears that you cannot fathom that there is only us. There are no others."

By then, I was in my boxers and my shirt, though it was completely open.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I growled.

"Though I will be teaching your body before your mind, you'll learn." He let go of my shoulder and instead wrapped me in an embrace. "I am a very good teacher," he whispered. My face was in the middle of his chest, and all I could smell was his heavily musky cologne, which contributed to my dizziness. I pushed against him, but he wasn't moved at all.

"Please don't do this," I pleaded as he slid his hand down my back, over my rear.

"You brought this upon yourself," he said bitterly.

"I didn't do anything to you," I said. "I haven't seen you since..." I trailed off. I didn't remember what day it was, and he'd shoved his knee between my legs and ground it into my crotch. Unfortunately, this setup was familiar; he'd done something similar to me before.

"Understand that there is nothing you can say to dissuade me," he whispered and slipped a hand into my boxers. His hands were cold, as was the window as he pressed me further against it. I told myself that the shiver that ran up my spine was because of the window.

He wrapped his long fingers around my member and held it tightly. He proceeded to stroke it slowly, kneading his thumb into my shaft. My hands were originally on his chest to push him away, but I began shaking and my fingers curled inwards. My head was pounding, my pulse quickened.

"Have you become more sensitive to my touch?" Ghirahim asked, pressing his lips into my neck. I shuddered and squeezed my eyes shut. The wave of heat descending my body only added to my dizziness, and I began to feel faint.

He pumped faster, and I bit my lip to prevent a moan from escaping my mouth. I was hot, and with every movement of his hand, I flinched.

"Let go," I said weakly. "I, I—" I gasped.

"You are going to come?" I didn't answer. Ghirahim slowed his strokes and used his free hand to grasp my chin. "Look at me," he said. I reluctantly opened my eyes and looked into his. There was a sick excitement there, and though I was being defiled, his gaze made me feel even filthier.

"Tell me that you are going to come," he commanded. I tipped my head against the window in resignation. He picked up the speed, and my eyes fluttered.

"I'm going to," I started, then my breath caught. Pure pleasure bolted through my body, and I held on tightly to Ghirahim's shoulders. I hitched my eyebrows together and bit my lip, groaning softly. I trembled as the tension that had accumulated around my groin surged out of me.

The rain became heavier still.

Ghirahim pulled his hand away and licked the thick, milky semen from his fingers.

"Now that you're done," I said, rubbing my tired eyes with the heel of my hands, "I will take you to the front door." I couldn't trust him with all the explosives he possessed. What was important was the safety of those in the building, not the fact that Ghirahim was ripping me apart.

"I am not finished," he replied. I looked at him, and watched as he took a small silver package from his back pocket. He ripped the package open with his teeth and squeezed a blue, jellylike substance onto his fingers, leaning into me. He put a hand on my back and pulled the waistband of my boxers down.

"Stop it!" I said. Once again he ignored my pleas, and when I tried to push him off of me again, he slapped me. It stung, but only for a moment. My sight went unfocused.

Someone, please help me, I thought. Save me from what I know is about to happen.

Ghirahim pushed one lubricant-covered finger inside of me and I cringed just as there were three knocks on the door. Oh Goddess, thank you for answering my prayers.

"Hey, Link, are you busy? Want to go to lunch? I'll pay for you this time," Horwell called from the other side of the door. Ghirahim pulled his finger out and shoved it back in, many times in quick succession.

"Tell him to come back later," he whispered. I hesitated, but I was wasting time.

"I have a few things to finish up here before I go to lunch," I said. I sounded ill.

"Oh, okay," he replied, disappoint apparent in his voice. "I'll come around after I get back, then."

"See you," I replied, my voice strained: Ghirahim had put another finger inside. I heard Horwell walk away and Ghirahim looked at me with anger.

"He even sounds weak. I could crush him in an instant," he snarled, all the while ravaging me with his fingers. My body temperature was rapidly increasing.

"Why would you," I panted. "Leave him alone, he isn't involved." I punctuated my words with a sharp intake of breath.

He didn't say anything and continued sending his fingers in and out of me, but I noticed a shift in his mood. Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes to his face.

He had a pained look in his eyes but regarded me with animosity.
"I'm at my limit," he said under his breath. Pulling his fingers out of me and making me quake even more, Ghirahim put his hands on my backside and hoisted me up on the window so that my feet were off of the ground and he was standing between my legs.

The sudden movement surprised me. Instinctively, I threw my hands out to grab on to something, and held onto Ghirahim's forearms.
"Stop, I'll fall!" I exclaimed. If I turned my head, I could see the city below me from the window. It felt like I could fall through at any moment.

"I will catch you," Ghirahim said simply and lowered me onto something hard, thick and scorching to the touch.

I coughed; the air hadn't made its way to my lungs fast enough.
"Take it out," I almost begged. He thrusted upwards into me, and I yelped. The dizziness was back, full swing. It had faded away for a time, but it once again turned the office on its head.

It hurt at first, but as Ghirahim continued to relentlessly force himself inside of me, I became more used to it. Soon enough, each thrust sent a hot ripple of bliss through my body. I could barely conceal my moans, and I covered my face in mortification.

"You really did become more sensitive," he said, more to himself than to me.

"I can't see straight," I replied, referring to my vertigo. I realized that he'd probably take it the wrong way.

"Know that I am the only one able to make you feel this way," he said, licking my neck. A myriad of conflicting emotions, pounding headache, and regrets weighing heavily on my shoulders? Yes, it's only you that makes me feel this way.

He drove himself deeper inside of me than he ever had before. I flinched and gritted my teeth and found Ghirahim going faster. I was lightheaded again and completely out of stamina, it was too much.

"Please, I c-can't take anymore," I whimpered.

"How shameless you have become, detective." His libido seemed to be at full capacity, as he only sped up his strokes. He kept going until there was a hollow feeling in my stomach, until the salty scent of sweat filled the office, until I became delusional enough to believe that I was melting along with the city outside my window.

When he came inside of me, the emptiness of my stomach did not subside, it doubled, tripled, quadrupled. He released me, set me on the ground, and my legs gave out. I slumped against the window and watched in exhaustion as Ghirahim suited up in his gear.

Gear... I liked him better when I didn't know his name.
"I'll cut the string," I muttered. "I'll free myself of you." He might not have heard me, but he turned to look at me and smirked.

The last sight before it all went black—an image I was now accustomed to seeing—was Ghirahim's back as he walked away and the door closing behind him.

And still, it was raining.

The sound of rain rolling off of on an umbrella. The feel of someone's arms around me. The smell of cigarettes. Long hair tickling my noise. I was being spoken to by a familiar voice. Your hair needs to be trimmed. You need to eat more, you are much too light. I don't mind that my shoulder is getting wet if it's for you, said the voice.

Time passed. I was submerged in warm water. Someone was scrubbing my skin, running their hands through my wet hair, caressing my face.

"Goddess, Link," the voice breathed, sounding choked up. It was Horwell, and finally feeling safe, I relaxed and fell into a deeper sleep.

Perspiration rolled down my skin. I was hot and my heart was beating quickly. My hands were bound above my head, leaving me suspended in the air. The position left a pain in my shoulders, and I tried to touch my dangling feet to the ground but only my big toe could make contact. I couldn't see, there was a thick material covering my eyes, and the same material was around my wrists, ankles, and neck.

"Why is it so hot?" I mumbled to myself. I could barely think straight.

"Are you awake?"

"H... Horwell?" I asked, unsure.

"Yes, I'm here," he said. It sounded like he was right in front of me.

"Why am I like this? This joke is going a little too far," I said, trying to laugh it off.

"You're like that because I'm not joking," he replied seriously. I flinched when he ran his hand over my chest. "Though I think I gave you a higher dosage of the aphrodisiac than needed." He placed one finger on the tip of my erect penis and ground into it.
Why did bad things have to feel so good?

"Horwell, just let me down so we can talk about this."

"Do you even know what we'd be 'talking' about?" he asked with frustration.

"The reason you are doing this," I said.

"Link, I love you." I was speechless.
"From the very beginning, you were this beautiful, unattainable prodigy of a boy. I was so excited to be your mentor. You exceeded my expectations. I found that you were all I could think about. Soon enough," he said, drawing circles around my nipples, "I started following you. I learned all I could about you. So you see, Link, I have wanted this for a long time." His breath was on my thigh.

"It is quite the shame that you'll never get what you want," a new voice said.

"You—"

"I was wondering how I should kill you. Yesterday, my plan was to make it painless. But now? Should I cut off your dick and make you eat it? Yes, if I did that then afterwards I could burn you to death. Maybe I would enjoy it more if you drowned. No, here's an idea: how about all of the above?" If I ever made a list of people I didn't want to see, Ghirahim would be every entry.

"What can you do for him?" Horwell asked angrily. "I will take care of him. All you've done is hurt him."

"Be that as it may, you are trash. Filth. A parasite." His voice was coming closer. Horwell shifted. "And so, if this pure soul should be sullied, it should be by someone with such an exquisitely tainted soul as I."

"That's some shitty reasoning," I muttered.

"No one asked you, twat." Ghirahim replied easily.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Horwell exclaimed. And there rang out the first blow. There was a small scuffle, then a loud thud.

"I think I'll break this first," Ghirahim said just before a sickening crunch and a screech from Horwell. I shouted for him to stop, but he wouldn't reply. Ghirahim began stomping loudly, each bang earning a pained sound from Horwell.

No matter how much shouting I did, he didn't stop. Bones crunching. Whimpers. The sound of blood splashing all over the place.

"Ghirahim, don't kill him!" I screamed. "Ghirahim!" There was silence on his end. "Please." Rustling sounds. Wet footsteps towards me. Chains clinking against each other.

Whatever was holding me up was unhooked, and I fell forward. He caught me and wrapped me in something big and warm. He carried me out.
"Let's go," he grumbled.

The cold air settled into my skin.
It wasn't raining anymore.

He placed me in a car and sped away.

"Take these off," I said indifferently, referring to the cuffs binding my wrists and ankles, and the blindfold over my face.

"I don't have the key."

"I thought you could pick locks." He sighed, and I assume he pulled over. He removed the blindfold and dropped it into my lap. I blinked a few times and pushed my hair off of my forehead. Ghirahim handed me a lock pick and I bent down to fuss about with the lock on the leather cuffs around them. The lock opened easily, and I slid them off.

Ghirahim started driving again. It was silent, and I was glad. However, I needed to now if he'd left Horwell alive.

"What did you do to him?" I kept my voice flat.

"You're worried about him, after what he was about to do to you?"

"What he was about to do to me? You mean what you did to me only a few hours before?"

"I broke his nose, his fingers, one of his wrists, broke three toes on each foot and dislocated both of his shoulders." He rattled it all off like a grocery list.

"You didn't... you didn't kill him?"

"No." I undid my seatbelt, there was a telephone booth rapidly approaching.

"Stop the car, I need to call an ambulance!"

Ghirahim scoffed but pulled over anyway.
"And are you going to get out and call?" he inquired, looking me over.
I was wrapped in his cloak and nothing else. I didn't have my shoes.

"I'll still go."

"For fuck's sake, I'll do it," he huffed. He pressed a button and only his door opened. He stomped out and walked in front of the parked car to cross the street. He tapped his foot impatiently and spoke into the phone without stopping, then paused and looked at his watch. He nodded, and made a gesture with his hand that meant get on with it.

He shouted into the phone and slammed it down and stomped back to the car.

"Damned Hylians," he muttered under his breath, then glanced at me. "Clothe yourself, you brute." I held up my hands, still bound. He undid them.

"Where are my clothes, then?" I asked flatly.

"I will buy you new clothes, but your coat is in the trunk." He started the car and flew into a parking lot in front of a large department store. "Give me ten minutes." I didn't reply, and I watched him walk into the store.

If only I could run away. Even if Horwell chained me up, I didn't want to lose my friend, my mentor. I wanted to see him and make sure he was alive. I could forgive him. I would forgive him. He probably wouldn't have done any of that if Ghirahim hadn't left me in a wreck the way he did.

I curled up in the seat and stared blankly at my toes. The driver's door opened, and three bags were dropped into the floor in front of me. Ghirahim plopped into his seat and closed the door.

"Change."

"Don't look at me." I turned my back to him and rummaged through the bags. The first thing I found was a green pullover. I slid Ghirahim's blood red cloak off of my shoulders and pulled the jumper over my head...

"One of your cuts is infected," Ghirahim stated, gliding his fingertips over the wound.

I froze. Bile built up in my throat and I barely swallowed it down.
"Don't touch me," I said shakily. His fingers receded and I put the pullover the rest of the way on. Boxers, black jeans, black socks, black boots.

I wasn't going to thank him. If he thought that this was any kind of compensation, he was very wrong.

"You can let me out here."

"You cannot go home."

"Why?" I spoke staring straight forward.

"Because I have your key."

"Give it to me."

"No." We were now driving down the highway. I slumped down further into the seat.

"Then drive me home," I said quietly.

"I am." We stayed silent.

By the time he pulled in front of my apartment, it was eight o'clock at night.
The doors of the car opened slowly.

He walked to the front door of the building.
"My coat," I called after him.

"I will not give it to you." I walked past him and entered the code to open the doors.

"Okay." We walked to my apartment. "Unlock it."
He turned the key and I slapped his hand away, pulling it out. I swung the door open and slammed it closed before he could get in. I locked the door and secured the three chains on the door. I was careless with using them before, but I'd be more serious about my safety.

"Link," Ghirahim said, knocking once on the door.

I didn't respond and dragged my wooden chair in front of the window. I stared at the white sky until it cleared.

I opened the door on Monday morning to see Ghirahim leaning against the wall and holding my cell phone.

"Link—"

"Good morning," I said brightly. He looked taken aback but quickly recollected himself.

"Here's your cell phone," he said, holding it out. He had my coat in his other hand.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him. "I have to go to work, have a nice day."

"Wait. What's wrong with you?"

I gave him my most brilliantly superficial smile.
"Nothing."

"You will catch a cold without your coat."

"I'm fine." He handed it to me, I put it on and left for work.

"Link!" Fi called when I arrived at her cubicle. "What happened? Horwell said that you fainted from overworking yourself and he took you home, but now he's in the hospital."

"Why is he in the hospital!?" I asked, feigning horror.

"Someone injured him pretty badly," she said. "The team is going to visit him soon."

I ran to the elevator and when I got to the conference room, everyone was standing around the table. Keet saw me first.

"Do you know what happened? The police are investigating."

"Only what Fi just told me. Are we going to visit the hospital now?"

"Yes," Owlan said. Horwell was his best friend, I knew he'd take it the worst.

"Though Horwell is in the hospital, we will still be going to Lanayru on Wednesday. All of the information he gathered is accessible and we will make use of it," Impa piped up.

The worst possible thing could happen to one of us, and we'd still be working. You see, the SkyCorp mindset is that we detectives don't matter. What matters is the people we investigate for. We have to sacrifice ourselves for a twisted sense of justice. Things aren't right, Link. You need to get out while you still can.

The words that Horwell said to me on the day that he resigned from SkyCorp replayed in my head as Keet drove fledge and I in silence to the hospital.

I'd written Horwell's words off as paranoia, but maybe he was onto something. He'd told me plenty about the company being corrupt, but I never believed him.

When we arrived at Horwell's hospital room, Impa and Owlan were already there.
Impa put an envelope on the table next to his bed. Owlan set a box of cigarettes and a vase of flowers down and left the room quickly.

Impa eventually went back to SkyCorp, and Keet, Fledge and I were the only ones left. His students. Keet came to the company a few years before us, but Fledge and I were in training together under Horwell.

We made him laugh. We reminisced over the days when he still worked in the company. Karane was completely taken with his hair back then, and everyday she wanted to try out a new hairstyle on him. One day she gave him two ponytails and sparkly pink bows, and Horwell acted completely normal.

We pretended he wasn't covered in casts and thick bandages, pretended that he didn't have a pained look on his face even when he smiled.

Keet and Fledge left after I told them I'd be back to SkyCorp in an hour.

"Horwell, I am so, so sorry," I said. I wanted to grab his hand, make sure he had the warmth of someone living, but I was not allowed that royalty as his hands were covered in bandages.

"Don't apologize, Link. It was worth it all, to be able to tell you how I feel."

"No, no, I forgive you, it isn't a problem," I rushed.

"You can't say that. You can't say that without knowing the repercussions."

"What repercussions?"

"I love you, Link. If you tell me that you forgive me, you're going to get my hopes up." I looked away.

"I don't know what to say," I said.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. You're going to leave here and act like it didn't happen. Like I didn't say anything to you."

"That's not true," I whispered.

"It is. I know you, Link." He sighed. "Can you kiss me?" I nodded my head once. I swallowed and stood from the plastic yellow chair that I'd pulled next to his bed. I could feel my cheeks heating up as I leaned over him. Our faces were inches apart, but I didn't think I could do it.

I slowly dropped my lips onto his forehead. Horwell was shaking. I withdrew.
"You never play fair," he said, on the verge of tears. "Please leave, Link. I can't bear to see you."

"I'm sorry," I stuttered, backing away.

"I love you. I love you," he kept saying.

I left the hospital in a daze, making my way back to SkyCorp HQ. We prepared for the days ahead of us, and I indeed acted as if nothing happened.

A/N: A very long author's note! Hoorah hoorah! If you're not going to read the whole thing, just read the last line.
So, Link's O face sounds pretty great, right? I've been thinking about it ever since Twilight Princess came out. I'm proud of that one, I have to say.

Seriously, there aren't enough acceptable words for butt or penis. We need more synonyms. If Link could just refer to them as "My ass, my dick," blah blah blah, so many doors would open up. But Link is too wholesome of a young man to say such profane things out of nowhere. For now.
I might get desperate.

Reasons for you to enjoy life:
A. That sex scene
B. Ghirahim being confused
C. A
D. All of the above

My best friend (for whom I am writing this fanfiction) and I were talking about Horwell. She hates Horwell, and says that he will never find love. I felt kind of bad, so I thought, "Why not Nick Cage?" and we wrote a horrid twelve sentence fanfiction in which Horwell and Nick Cage meet in the hospital and get married. Mr. Cage somehow impregnates Horwell, and Horwell wants to name the baby Link. Mr. Cage leaves him, and baby Link is born. Link babysits and falls asleep with the baby on his chest, and it starts sucking his nipple, so Ghirahim gently places the baby in a trash can and starts sucking Link's nipples instead.
Yeah, she really hates Horwell.

And, the sad news comes: school is starting up again. Hence, while I get accustomed to the new schedule and all, I will not be able to post a new chapter. I know, I know, this is a really bad place to stop. That desert journey seems so interesting!

I will resume the fanfic by September 26. Wait for me, my lovelies.