Vindictively Yours,

Leveling Bishops and Pawns

The caws of ravens and hoots of the owls woke Wynter up. Her mind hazy with slumber and then it cleared to the residue of the high of her self pleasure drained on her mind. She whipped her head to the sleeping bag next to her. Empty. She let out a relief of breath but it didn't end there. Her shame coursing her cheeks as she let out a silent cringe. She hated this feeling. This shame coating her skin like grease. Her eyes blinked rapidly.

A noise stirred her up. It came from outside. Her thoughts heading to Nigel. She cautiously crawled out of her bedding and moved to the opening of the tent. When having stepped outside, her frame was hit with cold wind. She forgot she was in her sleeping ware. Taking the nearest thing to her, she put the jacket and sweatpants.

The fire had died. The place empty. Where was Nigel?

Her ears perked when she heard a shuffle. Her throat worked, feeling the first hints of fear. She closed her hands around the lapels of the jacket she wore. Her feet took her to the sound where she saw Nigel blowing smoke into the air. She diffused her fear but slowly hid behind the tent. Nigel's back was to her. Instead of him being still, it shook ever so slightly. Id she wasn't mistaken, it seemed like he was...crying.

The way his head bowed down to the grass under his feet. His fingers shook as he took a hit from the cigarette. Something about this broke a piece of wall she had built, to keep away from what they did last night. The sky was lightly dark, dawn approaching. She gulped, wondering if she should state her presence. She decided against.

The wind curled around her bare legs. She didn't know what was happening but the moment Nigel appeared in her life, it hadn't been the same. She was always distressed. Her feelings for Parker vanished. Her mind only centered around Nigel and she did not like it. Because she doesn't want anything like that with him. So, she stepped forward, her bare feet crunching the dead leaves and his head jerked to the sound as she thought. Her gasp silent but sharp when the tears ran down his face. She knew he did not want her catching him like this. Knowing whatever she knew of Nigel, he would hide his crying thinking it's weakness.

"What the hell are you doing? Go back, Wynter!" The grunt was like that of an animal. Wrenching me aside like she was at fault for his tears. For exposing his weak side. Wynter didn't stop. She kept moving towards him and his face grew still with anger. She should be scared but she knows if she doesn't set aside or remove this essence of feeling something for him buy confronting him at his most vulnerable not weakest then this she would do.

"Don't you dare come any closer. Wynter, I am warning you." She pretended that it didn't scare her. It didn't make her want to run back to the tent. She stepped further till her feet touched his shoes at the tip. She was about to lose it when his dark silver eyes flared with intrusion and still the vulnerability didn't leave those eyes.

She wrapped her arms around him, taking in the stiffness in her. She knew he didn't hug her back, his lips stayed by his side stubbornly. His breath loud in her ears and her head pressed against his chest. She could hear the heartbeat thudding fast. She pressed further into her, uncaring how her own pulse beat faster. His smell was like the ocean mingled with this masculine waft purely his own.

"Get off me." It hurt her to hear him say that. The rejection curled her heart. She still didn't move. She tightened her hold. She didn't let go.

"Wynter." Her name was growled into her ears. She wanted to smack him for saying her name like that. It was deadly and hurtful like a spit.

"Shut up, Nigel." Her voice took both of them by surprise. He grunted like he was annoyed but it still felt less deadly. His hands still stayed by his sides and it was okay. It was okay because he didn't shove her off. She breathed him in and she felt him freeze.