THIEF [S.M.]

twenty

186,282 miles per second. That is approximately how fast it takes light to travel. Light is everything, is it not? It elucidates everything we see, everything around us. It's what defines us superficially; what structures the contours of our bodies, what reflects off the eyes to make everything so animated, what makes us real. And as Venus lied, and the thick, artificial light from the lamp beside her bed creeped, monster-like across the floor and sheets and just barely slipping over her shoulder, she was real.

Body-to-body contact. My face tucked between her neck and collarbone. Hers facing in the opposite direction, eyes closed and brain still launched in a state of dreaming.

It was hardly dawn, as the sun just then began creeping through the space between the two tallest buildings I could see, and the sky was painted watercolor red. Strokes of orange splotched in between, contradicting the blue, fading moon. I hadn't slept, not one blink. I was exhausted out of my mind, seeing double and my head felt like a full-grown hippopotamus was sitting on it. But really, I wasn't paying any attention to how sick I was feeling. I couldn't identify my feelings towards this girl, and that was all that was on my mind. It was hurting, literally, physically. Never mind the hippopotamus on my head, there was a bruise throbbing on my heart. Oh god, it hurt.

She stirred, and I kissed her skin, and she exhaled slowly. She looked to be smiling unconsciously. I brushed aside the layer of sheets blanketed over her body, and with my cold fingertips I traced the spaces between each of her protruding ribs, down her side and across the soft skin on her hips. Wrapping myself around her and sheathing us with the duvet, she blinked awake silently.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I asked in a whisper. She looked at me with heavy eyelids and a perplexed expression, as if she'd forgot what happened last night. The moment the memory caught up to her was obvious; a cheeky smile appeared on her face and she sighed calmly. Shaking her head, her legs extending as she stretched and the beaut sat up to look at the alarm clock behind me. Realizing how early it was, she sighed, the sheets slipping off her exposed chest as she scooted up against the bed frame.

I rested my chin on her thigh, and she swiped her hand through my tired hair. With sufficient concentration, she grazed a finger over the tiny scar on my cheek. Gentle.

"I'm really tired," she said, her voice still restrained by sleep. I nodded, kissing her hand--the closest thing to my mouth.

At this point, the sun shone across her stomach, making her skin shimmer, casting shadows across the room that mocked every breath she took. Her eyes were fixed on the sunrise, amplifying the gold of her irises.

It was quiet. Peaceful. The feeling of her warm body touching mine, the sound of her ceiling fan still tick, tick, ticking. She was ruffling the sheets in her hands; I remember that. The unintentional habit was intriguing to watch. It was calm; serene. It was lovely. It was wordless. It was completely unexpected, and absolutely formidable. And as the sound of the door heaving open sliced through the thin air and into my ears, I lurched back, whacking my head on the bed frame. Hard.

He stormed in, a raging disaster.

"You fucking bitch!" Arlo thundered. Venus struggled to find coverage for her exposed body. I sat, frozen in shock, and I could feel my hands start to shiver.

"I-it's not what it looks like!" she lied, avoiding eye contact with either men in the room.

He slammed his fist against the wardrobe and it staggered, and the yelling continued, "You damn well know it is exactly what it looks like," An ugly finger of his curved in the direction of Venus, and I didn't know what to do.

Do something, Shawn. Do something. Think. Think! my brain screamed at me, and I tried, I did, but the processing part of my mind seemed to be blocked off by fatigue.

The finger drew a line in the air, finally landing on the view of myself. "I always knew there was something weird about you," He yanked a shiny object out from behind him, way too fast for me to realize what it was. Blurry at first, the thing mashed together to form one solid figure. The lethal muzzle of a pistol was merely feet away from my face. My stomach flipped, and I found trouble in trying to exhale. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't breathe, and the back of my head stung, and I could now feel something dripping down the back of my neck. Blood? Was I bleeding?

Venus hopped up and threw herself upon my chest, and a burst of air evacuated my lungs. "No!" she shrieked, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Get off of him, Venus." Arlo growled... he said something else but it was too muffled for me to understand. She was crying now.

"Don't, you can't!" her grip on me tightened, "You can't, I love him!"

She loves me.

Arlo lowered the weapon slightly, his eyes meeting hers. He looked so distraught, so hurt.

Silence hung for a few moments as I tried to shake myself to full consciousness.

"But...you...I thought..." he couldn't find the words to say. And I could see it. His heart aching in his chest. His shoulders fell but he still held the gun tight. He was hurting. He did love her, and I didn't know if I did anymore. I was the bad guy. I stole her from him, and he loved her. He wanted to give her everything he had to offer and I took that from him. I was the bad guy. I took everything from him. The heart of the most delicate creature I've ever known was in my fucking hands, and I didn't know what to with it. I ruined her. I ruined everything. That was real.

Venus pushed herself up, crawling to the end of the bed where he stood slowly. "I love Shawn. I-I do, but I love you too. I love you. I love you, Arlo. Please don't do this." Slowly, she placed her little hand on the pistol, attempting to unattach his fingers from it. And he looked at her, so much pain and hatred clearly visible.

He yanked his hand away, and she winced. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

Pointing the barrel at me, he cocked the gun, and I flinched, covering my face with my hands as if they would protect me from the bullet.

"Don't you dare," Venus snarled, and suddenly the gun was pointed at her. She gasped and attempted to remain strong but her sobbing wouldn't stop.

He shook his head slowly, his ebony eyes glazing over with real tears. He diverted the weapon from her to me and back to her, and then in one swift motion, he slipped the muzzle of the gun between his lips, and pulled the trigger.

Venus slapped her hands over her eyes to shield them from the horrific view, and a heart shattering scream rattled the floorboards.

All in one moment, everything that had made him had vanished. He was simply a body on the ground and nothing more.

And it was all my fault.

2,500 feet per second. Something so much less than everything he was made of was the death of him.

The screaming wouldn't stop. Everything in me burned, and Venus, the sweet, sweet flower who deserved nothing but happiness was completely broken as she slumped, naked and shivering over her love as he lied there, bleeding all over the floor. Dead.

I ruined everything.