Rafe: Imagine

The Unwritten Chapter

I stare at the solid pink color wallpaper and boarded windows. Suddenly, I hear swift foot steps inching toward the door. I step away from the door as the foot steps come closer, I place my back into to the corner of the wall. The door opens and it's Rafe, holding a gun. My initial response isn't fear, but anger. I feel rage build up inside me. I need to be smart about this so I take a deep, silent breath. My eyes shift to the wide open door behind him. For a moment it's enticing, but I choose to put my faith in the pogues to find me. My eyes shift back at him. He points the gun on me. And I move back. "Do one thing for me, and I'll let you out of this room." He says. "And if I don't?" I ask. "One less pogue to worry about." He smiles. "I don't have to do anything you tell me to." I spit. Clearly provoked he grabs my arm in a tight grip and shoves the barrel of the gun in my cheek. "Yes, you will." He demands. My rage builds up as he shoves it harder between my cheekbone and my jaw, placing an uncomfortable pressure on my teeth, and I look at him with cold eyes full of detest. Rafe pauses. "Don't look at me like that." He orders. I grit my teeth trying to relieve the pressure of the gun. "How else would I look at the man shoving a gun to my face?!, with love?" I sarcastically say. Rafe pauses for a moment, "yes" he says in a softer voice. "I want you to look at me..." he starts. "... like I'm the love of your life."
I hate the idea, and my face can't help but display my rage. He shoves the gun further into my cheek. "Or die.." he whispers. I close my eyes and try to imagine JJ's smile. Something I wish I could see again. I open my eyes and stare down his face and back up to his eyes. Trying to imagine anything else; anyone else. All he does is stare at me. I watch as his eyes wonder down my face then to my lips. He inches closer. "Kiss me." He orders. I place my hand on his neck in a choking position with my thumb under his chin and my four fingers spread across the side of neck. I place my lips gently on his with a peck. I slowly inch away from him, hoping that would be enough, but he forces another kiss. He parts his lips, forcing me to kiss him harder. I kiss him back as I feel the gun slip away from my face. At the clink of the pistol hitting the ground, I squeeze my hand around his neck and push him off of me, as he returns forward I meet him with a right hook and he stumbles back. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth, riming the inside of his bottom lip and staining his teeth. I kick the gun away from him, across the floor.
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