He reached out a hand for her, only to caress an empty spot on the bed next to him.
He sat up, mildly confused but spotted her tapping away at a laptop at the far end of the room.
She was clad in nothing more than a white silk sheet, the one they surreptitiously relieved from the hotel; along with the laptop and other replaceable goodies to spruce up this little abode of an abandoned warehouse.
Next to her beautiful bare leg on the floor was her axe propped up against the desk, glinting off blue light from the window.
The window cast an angled shadow over her, making a pretty noir frame of her; the femme fatale. In all truthfulness, she was far more dangerous than this already menacing image. Far more mysterious than the shadows cast over her. Listen to him being all poetic and shit. He chuckled.
The bed creaked as he lumbered out of it, onto the cold concrete floor. She definitely heard him, but made no acknowledgement. Instead, she just continued searching for something on the web.
“Seen my pants, Love?” he coyly asked. “Under the bed,” she responded curtly. Looks like she was fully into whatever she was looking at.
He retrieved his trousers and put them on in no rush at all. He sauntered over and peeked over her shoulder at whatever she was so invested in on the screen.
“Connor Kaye, heir to Kaye Industries to unveil Project Colibri,” he read out. “Sup with that?” he asked. “Just keeping up with the times,” she shrugged. He leaned against the desk. “He got something I don’t?” he mocked jealousy.
She smiled her cruel smile, the one that lit up her unusual violet eyes, even when shrouded in dark shadows; the one that made people realise what real fear felt like.
The one that made him fall in love with her.
“Actually, nothing you can’t give, Sugar,” she stated quite straightforwardly. He laughed. “Really now? All that big money and shit even I can’t steal?” he leaned closer to her.
Her smile and gaze dropped. “Yea. The one thing I do want, he can’t give,” she stared wistfully at the picture of the guy.
The one thing he could. Her death wish.
Seems like this Connor guy was no stranger, especially to her. But that was her history, her past; the one she is trying so desperately to rectify. The one she doesn’t divulge to anyone, even him.
She and him; there is no such thing as the past anymore. Not where she is concerned. All that matters is that some certain people have to die, and die horribly, by her hands. He was just along for the ride, but that was okay with him.
Sugar leaned closer to Love and kissed her head. She frowned at him, but her mouth was twisted into a smile. Being this human with her, this normal, was a rare occurrence. He immediately focused onto a corner of the ceiling, unable to look at her. Strange, how they could do everything but be normal.
Love sighed and got up. She clutched the edge of the sheet and made a loose makeshift toga. “I’m hungry,” she mumbled and walked away to the door at the far end of the room.
He traced her footsteps with his gaze and settled on staring at the scars running down her bare back. He didn’t need to be a part of her past. He was her future.