Monday, 2:45 pm, 11/5/18
"I love my women Esuberante." Feisty. Mason smirks at her, leaning forward.
Blythe rolls her eyes, smacking his head, and pushing him away.
"I didn't realize that you were the one working with me." She seethes at him in disgust.
They ran into each other while looking around for their next class, which, coincidently, was together. Blake already sat there, his book in front of him, he had a tissue paper out, cleaning his desk.
When she saw Mason standing at the door, a pen in his mouth and a measly notebook in his free uninjured hand, she took the opportunity, to pull him out.
They were out, in a corner they couldn't be seen.
Mason dropped his notebook, a hand sliding up her waist, "You're so hot, I'm on the edge already."
She stared at him, narrowing her eyes, and folding her arms, "Please, get someone else. Мудак." Asshole. She mutters.
"Oh come on, you're my favorite, can't move on that easily." He whispers, walking her back to against the wall, his hand on her waist.
Lips inches apart, breathing synced. When he's about to seal it, her knee rises, hitting him in his dick.
She pushed him away, pushing her hair away from her shoulder, she grabbed his jaw while he withered in pain, "Oops," She stated, not sorry at all.
~
Mason grabbed Cake the moment class was over. Arm looping through his.
Ignoring his protests and struggles, he dragged him all the way to his car, sliding down next to Noah.
"Noah, Cake." He introduces, "Cake, Noah, my best friend."
"It's actually Bla-"
"So Cake, got any place in mind? I was thinking of this place near by. Great waffles." Leaving no space for anyone else to say anything, he taps the driver, telling him where to go.
~
Tuesday, 1:15 am, 12/5/18
It was quiet.
The man got out of his car, slamming his door shut. The moon's light illuminated, letting him see where he was walking, the street light's were broken.
The cold air nipped his skin, he shivered. It was quiet, the only thing he could hear was the air howling through the dancing leaves.
He could smell smoke, the whiff of it hitting his nose, his neighbors liked to smoke.
He heard, felt, the splash when stepping on his porch. Damn those kids, he recently just got it repainted. They played with their hose and threw the water anywhere but the garden.
Sighing, he ignores it and takes out his keys, clicking the little light bulb that hung beside the doorbell open.
The wind blew again, and he shuddered, the cold hit his spine.
Twisting the keys, the door opened instantly, weird, it wasn't locked. He swore he remembered to lock it before he left this evening. It creaked open slowly, running away from where he stood right outside.
It was quiet.
He flickered open the lights, the room brightened dimly.
He didn't notice anything, he shook off his tie and slipped out of his shoes and coat. The warmth in the house engulfing him, the cold wind not hitting him anymore.
"You're home late." A voice says. Soft, silky, smooth. Threatening.
He jerk his head up, look around the room, up and down, right and left.
The door slams behind him, loudly, and he jumps, his teeth were clattering, trying to form words, ask who it was.
He couldn't.
"I wonder what other things you're late to, Elijah Cole." She says again, feminine, low and husky, slowly forming her sentences, letting each word slip off her tongue.
"35, living alone- that's good, no mourners- boss of a small company, how's that going?" She asks, this time, he felt, he felt, something on his neck. Not the wind.
Fingers, gloved, wrapped lightly on the back of his neck, the other hand rested on his back, he didn't have it in him to look behind him, he stood still, sweating.
"What else are you late to Elijah dear?" She whispers in his ear. Hot and slow.
"You answer when I ask." Suddenly, it's cold, not being touched, instead, he hears. He hears something flicker behind him.
He doesn't turn around.
"I d-don't know what you're talking about, I- I haven't done anything." Elijah stutters, closing his eyes and breathing in, gathering his courage.
He hears footsteps too, moving closer, right in front of him.
He opens his eyes.
A woman stood in front of him, pouting sadly, yet her eyes were shining with amusement, fun, she looked excited, waiting to know what was to happen next.
"Lying is a sin Eli, lying is bad."
Her hair was open, all over her shoulders to her waist, bright red lipstick on her lips, her lashes long and thick, she was a beauty. A deadly one, one that was about to ruin him.
She raised her fingers slowly, up in the air, dancing their way to him, twirling around till they landed daintily on his trembling shoulder, circling and drawing there. It tickled.
She peaked at him through her lashes, shyly, yet terrifyingly. Like trouble. Who was she?
"It's so hot here Eli," She whined, bringing her other arm to twine around his neck, her green eyes went rolling back while her she bit her lip, "be a dear and turn on the air conditioner, I couldn't find the switch."
She whispered that part, again, her soft lips touching his earlobe, grazing her teeth lightly.
"Your house is just...filled, with so many things, so many treasures, finding my way around was so hard."
He was terrified, he was scared, he was excited.
He felt her hand slide down to his back pocket, down his back, slowly, taking her time. He shivered.
She was pressed against him.
And then he heard something flicker again. He smelled something strong, pungent in the room. It wasn't the flowery perfume she wore.
He felt his back get wet, sweat all over him.
He sniffed it again, he didn't understand what it was.
The woman had moved back, innocently gazing up at him, "What's wrong?"
Shakily, he shook his head, "No-nothing."
She walked him back to his couch, pushing him back, and now he could see what she wore, a black thing and lacy set of lingerie, flimsy stockings that were wrapped around her thighs, but you could still see her soft and smooth skin. The black leather jacket rested comfortably on het shoulders, down, just below her breasts.
She held power.
Her hand went into her pocket, tilting her head and he heard something flicker. But he saw it this time. He saw what she held.
The bright, hot flame illuminating in the dim light of his living room, it waved and danced from left to right until it stood still, burning, red and yellow, orange and blue, a hint of green.
"I like fire, it gives light and a sense of something new. It hides and burns." She stared at her lighter adoringly, "Don't you think so too Eli?"
He tried moving back, his palms flat on the sofa, he tried moving his feet but he couldn't.
She stepped forward, tapping her shoes, on his feet, and he screamed.
"Ahhhh!"
It stabbed him, it pinned him down, it was a knife- not her heel. He felt blood pouring out of him, the thick, cold liquid. It left his body.
"Oh thank God, I thought you'd stay mute forever." Her eyes roll annoyingly and then she crawls on top of him, leaving her heels on his feet.
Her arms around his neck, as she played with his hair with one and flickered the lighter dangerously close to his ear with the other.
"Whether big or small, a flame can destroy hundreds with just a touch. One small взаимодействие and everything's gone." Interaction.
She smiles proudly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip slowly.
She snaps her fingers and he felt his wrists grasped. Looking beside him he sees two men grinning toothily at him, gold teeth shining.
He retaliates, but his jaw is gripped, nails, long sharp nails, sinking into his skin. His eyes wide and scared.
"Last winter, when you were sent on work for those few thousands to start the company? Remember anything babe?" She whispers.
His breathing hitched.
"You're good with bombs?" The man asked, puffing out the smoke in Elijah's face.
"Y-yes sir." He answered determined, he needed the money, he couldn't face his ex-boss after storming out of his office and quitting, "They taught basic in the military, but I remember how to set it up." His back was straight, hands forward and determined.
A picture was thrown in front of him and he instantly recognized the place. A warehouse, he used to go there back when he was in high school with his friends.
"I need this place gone." He orders.
Elijah picks up the picture, "You starting some construction there or something?" He murmured, nobody went to that place, mind him, he wasn't a pussy, he just grew up, but there were rumors of some higher class people owning it.
The man smirked, "You aren't getting paid to question me." he says, dropping his cigarette in the ash tray, "Just get the fucking job done, if you're caught, I'm not responsible, get that old man?"
He smiles, his eyes glaring, head tilted as he leaned forward on the table, slamming his gun on the table.
Elijah swore he thought he pissed his pants.
He could guarantee he was pissing this time.
"You remember?" She cooed, skimming her gloved fingers over his face. Stepping back- her hair slapping his face- on her heels, digging into Eli's feet.
"FUCK!"
"Oh dear, this is nothing." She's handed a gun by one of the men there, "The warehouse you blew up," She sighs disappointedly, her arms on each other to support her hand that held her face, "destroyed a good amount of of supplies, it cost more than what you got from those motherfuckers, more than your house and more than your fucking life.
"Jetaime was it? Wanna know what I did to him and his groupies?" She asked, running the gun over her lips.
She brought her head forward, maniacally smiling, "I skinned them, had my men juice lemon on them every few minutes, then," She giggled, like she was recalling something funny, "then I sliced them. You should've seen them."
Elijah was horrified, struggling against the men that held his wrists and snickered at what the woman had said.
"I swear I had no part! I didn't know! I swear!" He cried, if he cried enough, his neighbors would hear right?
"Let me go! I swear I'll- I'll work for you! Pay you back!"
She pouted, "Oh sweets, you can't, not even if you worked till you die.
"There's wonly one thing left to do. You," She whispered, pointing at him, "burn for what happened." She smiles sweetly. Death in her eyes.
She started walking out, three men behind her and the other stood behind Elijah, handcuffing him with bright pink handcuffs that he was thrown.
"Like them?" She chirped from in front of the door, "Picked it out myself, so cute!"
The door was wide open, all four of them behind her while she giggled staring at him.
She took out her lighter, a matchstick in her hand.
"Remember to scream my name, it's Blythe." She blew a kiss and walked to the sidewalk before lighting up the match.
"NO!" He cried, but it was faint.
She brought the match down, the trail of gasoline lighting up.
Her eyes sparkled as she grinned widely.
The house went kaboom. Erupting in flames and sparks, orange and yellow lights shining bright. She couldn't stay for long, she had to leave before the neighbors came out.
Turning around, she raised the lit match to her mouth, pressing it to her tongue.
~
Target: Elijah Cole
Blythe crosses out the name, playing with the flickering lighter.
~
heh fire. pretty. I didn't want to fit in the whole mason/cake interaction in this chapter, so it's going to be in the next one, not that long.