Chained - Jenlisa

My Neighbor My People

The scent of bacon wafts into my nostrils as I step out of the bathroom, my hair wet and my towel clenched around my body. My stomach grumbles at the possibility of a delicious breakfast and I hurry into my room to dress. I assume Lisa is making breakfast, but I wonder about her mood. Last night was crazy and there were a lot of mixed feelings. Though perhaps they were only on my end.

When I finish patting my hair dry I walk out to the kitchen and find Lisa at the stove. She's facing away from me and I can see her scars peeking out from under her tank top around the back of her neck and shoulders. They don't bother me as much as they used to and I would actually like to know how she got some of them, if she's willing to share. She's clearly not ashamed of them, at least not the way she was when we first met.

"Your plate's right there," she says without turning around.

I sit at the island and bring the steaming plate there towards me. There's bacon, eggs, and French toast displayed deliciously. "Thank you," I tell her sincerely. "This looks great."

Lisa clicks off  the burner and places the last of the bacon on a napkin covered plate before turning to me. She fishes out forks from a drawer beside her then hands me one. "Syrup? Ketchup?"

"Just syrup, thank you."

She fetches the syrup bottle and drops it beside my plate. Then she fills a plate of her own and puts it on the island with the plate of extra bacon and slices of French toast. "To drink?" she asks, opening the fridge.

I study her for a moment, intrigued by how happy she is, how calm and levelheaded. "Apple juice," I request, watching her pull it out smoothly before retrieving a glass cup for me. "How are you feeling?"

As she pours, she says, "Lovely. Just... lovely." A tiny smile quirks her lips and her expression is nothing less than joyous.

I bob my head and start in on my food as she sits beside me and pulls her plate to herself. Last night she thanked me for letting her kill that man, our target, and now she's acting like she received the present she's always wanted. There's no way she enjoyed killing that much. Then again, she was almost having a fit of ecstasy when she pulled her bloody lips away from the target. I can still see in my mind the way she tipped her head back delightedly and licked the red from her lips as if it were a candy coating.

"How are you feeling?" Lisa asks worriedly. "You're... feeling something."

I place my fork down and turn to her, suddenly determined. "Last night," I say seriously. "Did you like what you did to that man?"

She places her fork down, too, and glances at me from the corner of her eye. "Yes," she admits.

The way she had been acting before this- the micro aggressions and strange behaviors- are at the forefront of my mind, and how she's not doing those things now. "Is that why you were acting so edgy before? Because you wanted to kill someone?"

Lisa whips her head to me, her eyes pinched. "No! I mean, well." She sucks her lips into her mouth and averts her eyes. "I just... I just... needed to do something," she blurts out. "I was made to act, and you weren't using me. So I grew... agitated. Last night helped me release some of that pent up agitation. I enjoyed it, yes, but I wasn't aching to kill."

The sheer honesty in her admission has me believing her, so I refocus on my breakfast. It's delicious, not that I expected it to be anything less, but my thoughts are on how I'm going to keep Lisa's intense energy levels in check. It's not every day that we have to go out in a mission. It's not even every week. Sometimes there's months between jobs, and that's way too long, clearly.

A knock at the door catches my attention as I sip at my apple juice, and Lisa gets out of her seat before I can react. She listens at the door for half a second before opening it, and she fills the doorway protectively.