Living on the Island of Vaas (A Farcry Fanfiction)

Chapter 7: Attack

"Good morning, pera." His voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up and saw him standing there, clean. Well, the cleanest Vaas could be. He still had dirt on his arms and under his nails, but his face wasn't so bad. He gave her a toothy smile and crouched down. Boy, he took good care of those white teeth!

"Hello," she answered coldly. He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index. 

"You know," he started, lifting his head back up to look at her. His eyes were different today, had more green then the last time she'd looked in them. She liked them better green. Wait, what are you thinking Myra? You don't like him, at all, remember he tortured your friends, and tried to rape you! Myra's thoughts were going crazy in her head and her heart was starting to beat faster. "I go through a big fucking deal to put an extension to my shanty for you, and you can't even say good morning?" he asked, giving her a frown that knitted his eyebrows together forcefully. She looked at him with a confusion. "I'm listening," he chanted, leaning over with a hand cupped around his left ear. Myra forced a growl back, knowing what he would most likely do if she hadn't held it back.

"Good morning," she said, her voice ringing with sarcasm. He smiled proudly.

"It's so good to see you Vaas," he urged her to continue. Myra shook her head slightly.

"It's so good to see you Vaas," she spoke through clenched teeth. Where was he going with this? It was making her itchy, itchy to slap that grin off his shit eating face!

"I dreamed of you last night," he ranted. Myra's eyebrows went up as she watched him with his hand still cupped around his ear. 

"Momma always told me it's bad to lie," she responded, much to Vaas' discontent. He sighed and dropped his hand. He started to draw small circles in the dirt, his eyebrows raising.

"I was just beginning to have some fun, pera," he said, a fake tone of sadness in his voice. He looked up and waved her over. "Get closer, I've got something to tell you." He waved her over again and she rolled her eyes, but scooted over to him. When she got to where he was crouched, she could almost feel the heat coming off of his skin because of their proximity. Her heart sped and she frowned. And now you get nervous? she asked herself. Vaas passed a hand through the caging and touched her arm. She didn't flinch. His touch wasn't new. He raked his rough hands up and down the length of her arm, stopping up at her shoulder and down at the tips of her fingers. His eyes followed his movements, like he didn't want to miss a thing. If he was going to feel her skin, he was going to have to see it too. Myra looked away from him as he continued to pass his fingers on her flesh. Her bruises had faded, but the dirt still coated her. She knew she must look like she spent a week in menour (and she did!), but hey, no one offered her a bath so it isn't her fault. 

Vaas's hand got bolder, if it wasn't already, and snaked up to her shoulder, skimming her collar bone and got hold of her neck. She turned her eyes to him then, blue orbs meeting crazy green ones. They stared at each other while Vaas had hold of her neck and rubbed circles on the skin with his thumb. It was a gentle gesture, but she could feel him getting impatient. He wanted something more. Just at that moment, he pulled her head towards him, Myra's eyes growing bigger. Was he going to kiss her? Yes. 

Vaas had her lips trapped under his. He moved them once, while Myra stood still as ice, shocked to the bone. WHAT THE FUCK!? she wanted to yell. He moved his lips again, trying to pry hers open with his tongue, but she denied access. She was too shocked. Why would a pirate lord, who is a mad man, a junkie (probably), and a participant in human trafficking, kiss her? It was just out of her mind. His lips were becoming impatient due to her lack of cooperation, and he got hungrier. He pressed harder on her mouth, his hand on her neck pressing hard on the flesh. She could feel the heat of his face on hers, while his lips molded, begging her lips to move.