NOTE: This chapter is unfinished. I have posted everything I have written to this point. I plan to finish this chapter and add an epilogue in the near future. Thank you for your understanding and patience.

CHAPTER 8:

The water rained down, offering a reprieve from her racing thoughts. She consoled herself, inhaling the steam from the shower. She wondered if he had actually meant to harm her. The embarrassing exchange in front his men would not go unpunished. Perhaps this was his breaking point, she had accepted her fate - aware that she had become more of a burden in his home than he would ever care to admit. She couldn't imagine an outcome for them that wouldn't end in heartache or bloodshed.

Oswald had heard the shower when he returned home. He decided to rinse the blood from his hands in the kitchen sink, praying she wouldn't finish before he had time to clean up. He was empty inside. The more he tried to force the relationship, the quicker she seemed to slip away from him. With a heavy sigh he made his way to the bedroom, reliving himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt. He was still pondering how he was going to settle this affair. He paused in his state of undress as he heard the shower shut off.

She dried her skin and slipped on his dress shirt from yesterday. Oswald had insisted upon purchasing her a new wardrobe but she dismissed his kind offer. Choosing instead to wear his button down apparel around the apartment. She secretly loved the way his tight fitting shirts hugged her curves. They were just short enough to barely cover her sex. They made her feel close to him, and she loved breathing in his scent. She emerged from the bathroom to find Oswald sitting on the bed, his head buried in his hands.

His casual attire pleasantly surprised her. He had stripped down to a white tank top that he used as an undershirt. His suspenders hung at the sides of his dress pants which were only half buttoned. She cautiously approached him, knowing his calm repose could give way to unbridled rage at any moment.

Hearing her soft steps caused him to straighten up on the bed. He saw her standing in the doorway, clutching the sleeves of his purple dress shirt from the night before. He used to feel honored at seeing her in his clothes. He remembered picking out his attire for the day based upon what he wanted to see her wear that night. When she disrobed in the morning for her shower, he would hold the shirt close to his face, enjoying their shared essence still emanating from the fabric.

His eyes betrayed none of these passing thoughts. His gaze lacked any sign of emotion. His once warm glance had faded, the blue fire in his eyes was starting to burn out. He had finally decided.

"I want you to leave in the morning." his tone was absent of any feeling. His desires had faded into the abyss of broken dreams. He was only trying to save himself at this point. The command left her breathless. She had anticipated a retaliation from him, but she never would have expected him to exile her from his life. She tried to search his face for any signs of an appeal. His cold stoicism separated them like a wall. "I want to be clear-" she thought he was giving her an opportunity but his words cut deep "-I want you to disappear. If I see your face on the street or hear your voice in a crowd...I will not hesitate to kill you." His detached tone reinforced the seriousness of his threat. He was giving her an out. One last chance to leave before his temper consumed the last of his sympathies for her.

"If there is anything you require you should ask for it now. I will provide you with a small sum of money and a car, if you so desire." He wanted to be rid of her for good. In his world, money could solve almost any problem. But he wanted to be sure, "Is there anything else you need from me?" He sounded tired, absolutely drained from his failed attempt at fostering a relationship with her. At least he could take solace in pushing her away. If he couldn't win, he would at least have the final say in how it ended.

She understood the difficulties she had put him through, they had both done so much damage to one another. She tried to appreciate his gesture, understanding that he could only endure so much before he finally snapped. He wasn't trying to bribe her with the cash; it was his final show of affection, an assurance that he wanted her to be well taken care of outside of his presence. She felt safer to approach him, his shoulders had slumped once more as she took a seat next to him on the bed.

"There is something I want" her voice was small but direct. Oswald felt exacerbated, he wanted to tie up his loose ends and go to bed, putting her out of his mind once and for all. "Anything." he replied.

Her heart was pounding, unsure of his reaction to her request. Her voice trembled but she managed to state in a hushed whisper, "I want a kiss."

Oswald turned to face her in shock, he was certain he had misheard her. "What?" She placed a hand upon his own, and repeated her request. Oswald had already divorced himself of those feelings for her. Besides he had kissed her before, gentle pecks on the forehead, or swift presses of his lips against her cheek. He was unsure of what exactly she was asking for. She saw the confusion in his face, and sought to make her intentions clear.

She leaned toward him, watching his eyes slowly light up once more. Her lips softly met his, a quiet intensity coursing through them both. It was their first real kiss, brief but powerful. Oswald struggled inside, fighting against letting those feelings for her return. It was over. It had to be. It was for the best. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him yield to this last attempt. He cleared his throat trying to dissuade her from continuing with this tortuous appeal - "Anything else?"

The kiss had unleashed feelings of her own. Underneath all the fighting and control, she genuinely cared for him. With staggered breath she pleaded "Another" If this was going to be their last night together, she wanted to remember it fondly.

Oswald had just barely contained himself from the first kiss, he didn't think he could survive another. 'Why is she doing this to me?' he chided himself for allowing her such close proximity to his heart. She was teasing him now, nothing more. He thought about strangling her for this cruel joke, but he found himself leaning in to grant her request once more. If he was going to suffer, then he could try to enjoy letting the pain linger on his lips.

This time when their lips met, she didn't pull back. His defenses were failing, this was all he had ever dreamed of - how could he resist her now. She opened herself up to him, submitting to his voracious kiss. They devoured one another, their rhythm of passion punctuated by short gasps before diving back into the kiss. She wrapped her hands behind his neck, letting her fingers twist through his uneven locks. She rolled back onto the bed, gently pulling him down on top of her. He followed her lead, unwilling to part with her kiss.

She reached for his tank top, running her hands smoothly up his sides, silently encouraging him to take it off. He obliged, pressing his bare chest against her. He couldn't discern if this was real or a fantasy, at the moment he didn't care. She desired him, and that was enough. He could feel her arousal soaking through his trousers, and he paused to admire her display. "Are you sure?" his insecurities flared up, he was still reeling from the shock of their shared passion. She reached out to him, the intensity of her eyes beckoning to him, "Oswald-" his name never sounded sweeter than falling from her lips "I want you." His eyes began to weep with silent tears of gratitude, he did not strain to conceal this from her. They both embraced the vulnerability, collapsing into one another forming a new whole. She was his, if only for tonight. He could make this moment last; with her, he was invincible, a master of Fate and conqueror of flesh. She whispers his name over and over, a silent prayer repeating his praise, an appeal for his touch - he grants her this request as well.

Oswald removed his last burden of clothing, waiting for her approval before proceeding. She reached out to him, giving him a firm squeeze. Her satisfied moan caused him to throb in her hand. He was inexperienced, but let his instincts take over as he dove upon her, stealing her breath away with his kisses. She let her hands travel from his shoulders and down his back, rolling her palms over his hips with deliberate care. Her hands made silent promises as she drew them back up from his waist to his chest. Her graceful touch inflamed his senses, and inspired his own exploration of her yielding form.