Lev Ivor Tsiskaridze
“I should make a start on dinner.” I softly smile at Raisa when she kisses my cheek, although I do wish she would stop leaving me. I’ve barely seen her today as it is, and now I get the distinct impression she is not merely cooking for the sake of putting a meal on the table, as much as to get away from me. I slightly frown, but soon enough my attention is demanded again by young Bella. I become warm, and not just on the outside as she takes advantage of the fact Raisa has vacated her spot on my lap and gets as close to me, in what is my opinion, as possible.
A subtle smile finds its way to my lips as Bella starts fidgeting with my fingers. I like the way her tiny hands look compared to mine. They’re quite the opposite. She has short, adorable fingers and graceful palms, whereas my fingers are long and bony and my palms are rather big.
I only notice the blushes on my cheeks when they started to feel flustered.
“What happened with me… Seeing you… Like that… Choking like that… It reminded me of the night I came here, when my father was shot in front of me.”
I would look at Raisa, if I didn’t think Bella deserved my undivided attention right now. Raisa never told me how Bella’s parents had died, only that she is indeed an orphan. I swallow and do my utter best not to tear up because I notice how hard my Kukla is struggling to keep calm.
Instead, I keep a close eye on her, watching her every movement. When she smiles at my sister, the corners of my own mouth immediately pull upwards, as if they’re connected to tiny, invisible strings which Bella is pulling now.
She resettles herself and for a moment we stare each other in the eyes, in utter silence. There is no awkwardness or any other feeling but serene in it.
“Je veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche, j'veux ton amour, I don't wanna be friends.”
I raise an eyebrow in surprise, having only understood the last sentence. I suppose I was French, but I can’t be sure since I didn’t understand a word of it.
My eyes widen and my heart starts pounding when Raisa translates into Russian for me. I let my gaze travel between her and Bella, completely speechless. Feeling to generally abash by what Bella appears to have said to me, I avert my gaze from both mother and daughter all together and stare into the empty air. My throat has become so dry that even swallowing my own saliva feels rather painful.
I vaguely hear Bella and Raisa conversing, but the words are completely lost to me. If what Bella claims is true, and she does indeed not want my friendship, then- I shall not allow myself to finish that thought. Any activity of the nature she’s just described –does she even understand what she has just asked of me?- would be far too premature right now. I don’t know if there would ever be an appropriate time where we could-
I look down, trying to reach that state of concentration where my body won’t react what is going on in my mind. It takes me only second to realise the flaw in that judgement call, as this leaves me to look at Bella’s legs. Those slim, smooth, long legs.
In a rush of panic I get up, momentarily forgetting about the youth on my lap, nearly sending her to crash on the floor. Right in time I manage to catch her, but quickly put her on her feet. I rub my sweaty palms against my jeans and clear my throat.
“I am so thirsty!” I exclaim, probably louder than was necessary. With sturdy paces, I walk over to the cupboards and rummage through them until I have found a glass, which I fill with tap water. Greedily I empty the glass just as quickly. When I turn around, my gaze is immediately drawn to Bella’s ankles again.
“Did somebody turn up the heat in here? It’s becoming very hot suddenly. It’s not just me, is it? No, of course not, I bet everyone is- ah, there you see, my sister is looking flushed as well. So it cannot be just me. No?”
I take a deep breath and try to relax. I have no doubt Raisa knows exactly which thoughts are running through my head right now, it would certainly explain why she is blushing.
Suddenly I become very aware of the fact I am still dresses in nothing but pants and shoes. Well, this is slightly embarrassing.
“Oh goodness.” I must admit I hate how squeaky my voice just sounded. “Not even a shirt, would you look at that. No perhaps, better not look. I should- Yes. But my trunk won’t be arriving until tomorrow. Raisa?”
I look at my cousin now, hoping she will be able to lend me a shirt. I try to look as serious as possible.
Fiyero Gabriel Arch
When I hear Jaimes laugh, I stop fighting my tears and let them fall down my cheeks. It’s proven then, he has no heart. He hasn’t even the mercy to keep his mouth shut and finish me off like I asked him to. But then again, the silence that follows his laughter is just as venomous as the bite of rattle snake would be, perhaps this is just the time it needs to run its course before it kills me. Death by silence, despite the tragedy, my housemates would surely have a laugh.
“Oh, you want me to rush? But we were having so much fun, Jacky. And not to forget, I’ll have to inform your ‘family’ after your cruel death… and cut out the hearts of those lovely siblings of yours. The cannibal would be first to go, I think. Isn’t she a diamond? I hear diamonds have a lot of magic in them. It would almost count for two gems.”
Another rush of fury surges to me as Jaimes informs me of his plans to kill the others as well. I can’t let him do that, they have nothing to do with this situation I have put myself into, even if owe nothing to nobody except for Raisa. So I must do this for her, make sure she has children left after I’ve gone.
With the back of my hand, I wipe my tears away, feeling the salty water sting on my chafed knuckles.
“She’s an opal,” I lie smoothly. “That must be the shimmering you noticed. I would say I’m sorry to disappoint you, but obviously I’m not.” It’s commonly known that opals are quite useless for Warlocks, as they are highly unstable and able to backfire on the wielder at any given time.
“The only magic ‘that cannibal’, as you so nicely put it, is capable of is severing your skin from your body using only one tooth and believe me, she’d do so before you’ve even gotten the chance to lift your finger at her,” I continue. I’m surprised how monotonous my voice sounds, there’s not the slightest bit of challenge, not the tiniest tad of hurt or anger in it, nothing but emptiness.
“And if you think my housemates will be moved by my death, well then I guess I’ll get to have the last laugh.” Why would they miss me? I’ve been nothing but impossible with them. “So what are you waiting for, eh? Go ahead, take what you want from me. There’s no point in postponing it, really,” I go on, sliding my hand over my stomach until I’ve reached my piercing. I stick my pinkie through the loop, playing with it for a while.
“Because you see,” I tell Jaimes as I take the little black onyx orb between my thumb and index finger, causing me to shimmer in and out of sight. “I’m already fading. I was never part of the family, just part of the house. So man up and stab me, will you. If you’re being selfish, and haven’t had your way with me yet, then I’m sure you’ll get the chance to do it –or should I say me- in Hell, because we’ll surely meet again there.” Every time I’m invisible for just that second, I take a step close to Jaimes, advancing on him without him even being able to see it. When there’s only space for one finger between us, I let go of my stone so I completely re-appear in front of Jaimes.
“Because it’s clear that Heaven won’t have me, I should’ve been dead at least three times by now. And after all, it’s where every monster goes after they finally get what’s coming to them, isn’t it? You’ll have eternity to annoy me, and try and hurt my feelings, and generally be the selfish little prick you are. So what’s one moment here, now worth?”
I put my hands on Jaimes’ chest and seductively smile at him, before pushing him roughly. I bite my lower lip and step closer, only to push him again. Then I grab his neck and push his head under water. I would almost start to think that drowning people turns me on, in some freaky murderous kind of way. Well, this fucker came in after me, so I guess it’s his own fault. I let go of his neck and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him up again. As quickly as possible, I brutally kiss him again, just to deny him the intake of air some longer.
“Come on eh,” I whisper, nothing but challenge in my voice this time. “How much do I need to piss you off before you give me what I want?” I ask him.
Meanwhile, I slide my free hand over his thigh and dig my nails in deep before scratching him. I quietly growl at him and look him straight in the eyes. I want him to wrap his pretty little hands around my throat and just end it all, right here, right now. There’s nothing glorious in death, and I was a fool for wanting him to kill me using a weapon I loved. Death is sloppy, ugly but passionate. And that’s exactly how this should be.
I've no idea of the future, but I can see the past quite well. And the present, if the weather's clear.
Warlock – Male – Lev Ivor Tsiskaridze – Theodora
