Vile Amity 5
Rosalie Sierra had an exceptionally normal life, being a homosexual homicide detective, her sister a deranged psychopath on the loose, her mother and father murdered by her sister's ex-fiance, Fredric when she was 14. Now she's fallen in love with an assassin who was sent to kill her in the first place, and blessed (or cursed) with eternal life. Suddenly, her oh-so-normal life takes a turn for the worse.
Liam had a white piece of gauze in his hand from when he left to get supplies to clean Rose up, and was dabbing the blood off of her chin. He sighed when he looked to her, still looking at the ground, her expression unreadable. When she looked up, they were suddenly very close. His green eyes taking in her frustrated expression. His scalding hand touched her arm softly.
"Rose..." he breathed "I'm not a monster...I'm truly not." his eyes were sad...and inviting. The eerie presence Rose had always felt since she was a child, the presence of someone watching her, was suddenly gone. His strong hands grasped both of her arms as he pressed his forehead to hers. His breath came quickly.
"Rose" his voice quivered
She looked up, without thinking; she physically tilted her chin up to look at him and by doing so made their lips ever so close. She could feel his breath mingling with hers, creating a little warm wind storm between them. His warm hands slid up and down her arms. If she hadn't seen the shift of his shoulder, she wouldn't have noticed that one of his hands left her arm. The warmth of his hand lingered on her arm and she focused on breathing. The hand that had left her arm was now lightly holding the small of her back. She thought for a minute, and then remembered. She couldn't pull herself away so she only asked.
"Are you...going to...hurt me...again?" her voice quavered with unsteady breaths.
His lips barely, touched her lips, just touched hers slightly, like a remembered scene touching someone's memory from long ago. Like they weren't really there. He chuckled carefully so as not to move himself the slightest bit.
"No...I could never hurt you now...Rose"
He whispered her name like someone would with their dying breath. It sent shivers running up and down her spine. Inflating new desires.
This time he was going to kiss her. Her mind flicked to her sexual orientation and then she completely forgot about it.
He drew in a breath of her sweet floral scent and then abruptly pushed her forcefully against the wall, tearing away from her. Hitting the wall didn't hurt, it was the way he rejected her. She looked at him startled.
"Someone is here." he whispered, furious.
A low rumble seemed to come from his chest, like a growl. She watched his eyes, only a moment ago they were full of passion and now, full of obligation.
On light feet he sprinted to the bedroom door. All traces of a heavy weariness gone and replaced with absolutely nothing except for the light scraping of the bottom of his pants on each other.
With nothing better to do but stand exposed in the middle of the room like an idiot, she continued to stand and stare, further pursuing the role of an incompetent imbecile. As he opened the door without a sound his unheard footsteps seemed almost docile, but not easily imitated. She noticed the way he flexed the inside of his calf and placed only the rim of his foot on the floor and then rolled the rest of his foot in. It seamed like a tricky process but he made it look so easy. Rosalie shook her head and tried her best to imitate his style of walking, not so easily accomplished in 3 inch heels. She came to see him already at the bottom of the steps proceeding to the door. She flitted down the stairs, placing the tips of her shoes on the edge of each step. She was grateful that the floor was not made of wood otherwise her now silent footsteps might have been so loud they would have woken the neighbors.
That was until the marble step seemed to slide out from underneath her. Just before Liam had reached for the handle of the door he whipped his head around to see Rosalie flailing and just barely being able to grip the railing with one hand and press her palm to the floor with the other. He sighed and reached for the door and as he did so he whispered.
"Damien, I'm ecstatic you've finally decide to take time out of your busy three Am schedule to grant us with your much-anticipated presence." he hissed
She heard a soft, deep chuckle that didn't come from Liam.
The person behind the now open door clicked his tongue to create a sarcastic, shamed sound at Liam.
"Well, I'm glad you have solved the problem with your sarcasm." he paused "am I to freeze out here while I can almost feel the presence of a lovely young lady upstairs."
Rose blushed; no one had ever called her a "lovely young lady" before.
Liam sighed but she could hear a smile from him.
He stepped aside to let in the most handsome man Rose had ever seen, almost as intoxicating as Liam, but not quite.
The man who she assumed to be Damien turned to face her as she still clung to the railing.
Red faced and mortified Rose pushed herself to her feet and brushed her thighs as if it was all an act. Her black leather pants made it next to impossible to descend the stairs dramatically like someone out of a movie. Yet the image she set in Damien's and Liam's eyes was enough to make her grin. They both stared at her slack-jawed as she made her way down the stairs and she was suddenly very aware of what she was wearing. A black vinyl vest was zipped up tightly against her already burning flesh and a long-sleeved vinyl trench coat trailed behind her. If she had decided to wear boots, walking would have been a much easier process but now she wore 3 inch black stilettos. She took her time walking down the stairs, for more than one reason; in case she remembered something embarrassing she wore and needed to run upstairs and hide, in case she decided to trip again, and just because she liked how the men stared.
Damien looked like a god himself as he looked at her, transfixed by her appearance; either that or it was the velvet thigh holster for her dagger that made him stare.
"Rose..." he breathed "I'm not a monster...I'm truly not." his eyes were sad...and inviting. The eerie presence Rose had always felt since she was a child, the presence of someone watching her, was suddenly gone. His strong hands grasped both of her arms as he pressed his forehead to hers. His breath came quickly.
"Rose" his voice quivered
She looked up, without thinking; she physically tilted her chin up to look at him and by doing so made their lips ever so close. She could feel his breath mingling with hers, creating a little warm wind storm between them. His warm hands slid up and down her arms. If she hadn't seen the shift of his shoulder, she wouldn't have noticed that one of his hands left her arm. The warmth of his hand lingered on her arm and she focused on breathing. The hand that had left her arm was now lightly holding the small of her back. She thought for a minute, and then remembered. She couldn't pull herself away so she only asked.
"Are you...going to...hurt me...again?" her voice quavered with unsteady breaths.
His lips barely, touched her lips, just touched hers slightly, like a remembered scene touching someone's memory from long ago. Like they weren't really there. He chuckled carefully so as not to move himself the slightest bit.
"No...I could never hurt you now...Rose"
He whispered her name like someone would with their dying breath. It sent shivers running up and down her spine. Inflating new desires.
This time he was going to kiss her. Her mind flicked to her sexual orientation and then she completely forgot about it.
He drew in a breath of her sweet floral scent and then abruptly pushed her forcefully against the wall, tearing away from her. Hitting the wall didn't hurt, it was the way he rejected her. She looked at him startled.
"Someone is here." he whispered, furious.
A low rumble seemed to come from his chest, like a growl. She watched his eyes, only a moment ago they were full of passion and now, full of obligation.
On light feet he sprinted to the bedroom door. All traces of a heavy weariness gone and replaced with absolutely nothing except for the light scraping of the bottom of his pants on each other.
With nothing better to do but stand exposed in the middle of the room like an idiot, she continued to stand and stare, further pursuing the role of an incompetent imbecile. As he opened the door without a sound his unheard footsteps seemed almost docile, but not easily imitated. She noticed the way he flexed the inside of his calf and placed only the rim of his foot on the floor and then rolled the rest of his foot in. It seamed like a tricky process but he made it look so easy. Rosalie shook her head and tried her best to imitate his style of walking, not so easily accomplished in 3 inch heels. She came to see him already at the bottom of the steps proceeding to the door. She flitted down the stairs, placing the tips of her shoes on the edge of each step. She was grateful that the floor was not made of wood otherwise her now silent footsteps might have been so loud they would have woken the neighbors.
That was until the marble step seemed to slide out from underneath her. Just before Liam had reached for the handle of the door he whipped his head around to see Rosalie flailing and just barely being able to grip the railing with one hand and press her palm to the floor with the other. He sighed and reached for the door and as he did so he whispered.
"Damien, I'm ecstatic you've finally decide to take time out of your busy three Am schedule to grant us with your much-anticipated presence." he hissed
She heard a soft, deep chuckle that didn't come from Liam.
The person behind the now open door clicked his tongue to create a sarcastic, shamed sound at Liam.
"Well, I'm glad you have solved the problem with your sarcasm." he paused "am I to freeze out here while I can almost feel the presence of a lovely young lady upstairs."
Rose blushed; no one had ever called her a "lovely young lady" before.
Liam sighed but she could hear a smile from him.
He stepped aside to let in the most handsome man Rose had ever seen, almost as intoxicating as Liam, but not quite.
The man who she assumed to be Damien turned to face her as she still clung to the railing.
Red faced and mortified Rose pushed herself to her feet and brushed her thighs as if it was all an act. Her black leather pants made it next to impossible to descend the stairs dramatically like someone out of a movie. Yet the image she set in Damien's and Liam's eyes was enough to make her grin. They both stared at her slack-jawed as she made her way down the stairs and she was suddenly very aware of what she was wearing. A black vinyl vest was zipped up tightly against her already burning flesh and a long-sleeved vinyl trench coat trailed behind her. If she had decided to wear boots, walking would have been a much easier process but now she wore 3 inch black stilettos. She took her time walking down the stairs, for more than one reason; in case she remembered something embarrassing she wore and needed to run upstairs and hide, in case she decided to trip again, and just because she liked how the men stared.
Damien looked like a god himself as he looked at her, transfixed by her appearance; either that or it was the velvet thigh holster for her dagger that made him stare.
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