girl on film, stu macher

𝐓𝐖𝐎➪ 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

-*-

The phone slid from her hands, hitting the ground. She whipped around, ready to stomp down the steps, get Sidney and Randy, and get the hell out of this house.

But something stopped her. She was frozen, unable to move. At first turn, she'd bumped into a large figure, lanky arms and a solid chest. But when her eyes followed the figure up, landing on it's face. She went numb. She couldn't even speak.

A longing smirk grew on his face. His eyes overflowed with yearning, lust, and mostly love. The first time the two had looked into the other eyes, in two years. Two years without one another. Two years too long.

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing he said. And then his hand flew over her mouth, and he was dragging her backwards as she hit and swatted his wrists, pleading for freedom.

-*-

She was still winded, but her eyes were finally beginning to open. She was waking up. With on look around the room, she knew just how she was going to start this unwanted conversation. "Back to drugging people, are we, Stu?"

Knife swinging back and forth in his fingers, he clarified, "a precaution."

"And the ropes." She tugged at the knot that kept her wrists together. "That's a new one I don't think we'd ever gotten the chance to try." Her voice soothed, almost seductive by this line.

Stu let a grimace over his face. "That was Billy." He repeated for what felt like the thousandth time to her.

"Just like it was Billy who forced you to kill innocent people?"

"Yeah, just like that."

She took another look around, casing her surroundings again. "Speaking of, where is that sadistic prick. Haven't seen him since he slaughtered my friends-" Her tongue clicked, and she made a shrugging motion. "Got the fuck outta dodge."

Stu's breath let out dramatically, and he tossed his hands up. "You're so frustrating, Kimmy! Back then, even before I left, you never let me explain myself!" He whined, just like he always did when she wouldn't give him what he wanted.

She scowled. "No, I did. I just thought you were full of shit," it was weird. She didn't feel as thought she was arguing with a murder who had killed most of her friends. She felt at home. As if she were arguing with a boyfriend because he would let her have the last slice of pizza. She felt oddly comfortable at the moment. "Persuading me to fall in love with you so you could go around murdering people and I would be too entranced to care? Not cool man, not cool."

With that, Stu bent to her level. His knife dangerously close to her face, but not threateningly. "Wow, how'd you figure it out?"

She whistled, gesturing to herself. "Smarty pants." She bragged.

He shook his head as the knife slashed, the rope falling from around her wrists. He moved onto her feet, chopping at the rope around her ankles. A thanks mumbled from her lips, and she rubbed her now bright red skin.

A moment of silence dragged on before Stuart finally perked up again. "You don't trust me anymore, do you?" He tone was low, he was afraid. Afraid he'd waited too long. Too long to come back for her. He was terrified she'd moved on with herself.

Kim's eyes met his. "No. No, don't do that. You don't get to do that. You don't get to play all innocent. You broke all my trust the night you drugged me and I found out you were not only a murder, but a stalker too." Now, she was the frustrated one. He had nerve doing that, saying that. Trying to play victim.