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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 6, 2008 13:04:35 GMT -5
Days like these made Vice's skin crawl, the coarse blond hairs on his arms stand on end. With a slight jerk of his neck, Vice let his bangs fall across his dark eyes, and flexed the muscles in his back. He felt strong today, uncontainable. Clenching his hands, he tested their strength, examined the sinewy veins that ran along his wrist. He looked up, surveyed the deserted alley through narrowed eyes, and felt the sweat that glistened on the smooth of his defined stomach. The wind blew in from the south, he noted, turning his face to the crisp, evening breeze as it cooled his damp brow, a welcome relief from the heat of the earlier afternoon.
It was September, and the streets of New York were beginning to fade into a calming and whispering autumn, a pleasant change from the unbearable heat of summer's chaos. Vice let the cool air wash over him as he lingered near a wall, the dusty scent of the brick light on his tongue. He let himself relax, his muscles loosen. The crisp evening breeze rustled the leaves on a nearby tree, and the dim light of the afternoon was already beginning to melt into the pink of the setting sun. Vice breathed deeply. Yes, he felt ruthless. Something needed to happen.
Suddenly, a flash of movement caused Vice's head to jerk abruptly left as his eyes darted to a window some way down the wall against which he stood. Vice sucked in his breath. With even steps, he made his way quietly to the opening in the brick and peered through the spotted, streaked glass. There, just inside the room into which he looked, sat a huddled figure. The corners of his lips turned up into a slow smirk as Vice stepped back, raised a hand, and threw his fist in complete precision at the speckled glass which shattered into a thousand shards at his feet. Ignoring the prickling in his wrist and the slow trickle of blood down his forearm, Vice stepped deliberately over the broken glass glistening from the cobblestones and looked once more into the room beyond.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 9, 2008 20:36:08 GMT -5
Ayala flitted down the brick allyway. All her papers were gone and she had enough money in her pocket to get herself a fairly nice dinner for the night. Her mouth watered at the possibility of food so she quelled her thoughts, knowing that logically the food was hours away. If she were to buy it now her stomach wouldnt stay full 'till morning.
As she walked she muttered a prayer silently hoping for the well being of her parents. Her fingers pulled her necklace out from under her shirt where the charm had hidden itself. Her hands ran over the star of david charm as she prayed but soon after she was done she placed it back where it was safely hidden beneath the layer of her shirt. The metal was cool against her skin and it felt good in contrast with the heat that was beating down on her from above. She looked up and squinted at the sun before looking away remembering that someone had told her that she might go blind from that.
She couldnt say that the heat wasn't wearing her down but she wasnt sure exactly where she could go to rest and wake up with all of her stuff and without her dark skin having a bright red shade to it. Her feet hit the ground with a steady rythm and after a few blocks it began to soothe her and didnt help much in the trying to stay awake department. She shook herself out of her tired stupor and glanced around her. The brick allyway had a few windows on the sides although why anyone would want a window facing a dirty alley that didnt get that much sunlight at most hours was beyond her. She glanced quickly inside a few of the windows and saw that they mostly seemed to be basements of a sort and they looked unoccupied. What she could see from the windows looked to have a layer of dust on it so she assumed that most of the old basements were being used for storage.
She cautiously pushed on a window and found it to be locked but she didnt give up, just moved right on to the next one. She pushed on it gently and this one gave in easily. She stepped into the building carefully and pushed the window back into place. looking around she noticed that the window she'd tried first fit into the same building and rolled her eyes at the carelessness of the person who owned the building. They obviously didnt want people in the room but they hadnt done a very good job of securing all possible exits. The basement meant that she was finally out of the sun and she was gratefull for the cool feeling of the ground as she sat down under the locked window. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool concrete wall. She felt exhaustion radiate in every part of her being as she slowly lost consciousness.
Delilah jolted awake as glass shattered just feet away from her face. A stray piece slashed her face and after she lept to her feet her hand automatically went to her face so she could assess the damage. She stayed absolutely quiet as she stood even though she assumed whoever had broken the glass had already seen her. Her fingers came away from her face with blood and her face stung a little but she'd felt it and knew the cut couldn't be too deep. She faced the figure who was looking into the room and every muscle in her body tensed as she awaited his approach.
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 9, 2008 22:59:57 GMT -5
Vice had no idea who he was expecting to find as he stared down at the figure who was no longer huddled, but had now stood. His arm was still tingling and he shook it out, attempting to loosen his muscles and shake off the blood. It didn't work. The room was dark, except for the dim light of the fading afternoon that straggled in through the broken window, and Vice strained his eyes to make out a face on the figure before him. He felt reckless, strong, and deliberate. There was nothing adventurous about breaking a window, but Vice felt sure that when his fist had impacted the glass, something else had been shattered along with it, and he thought with strange excitement that perhaps he had finally broken through the bland lens through which he saw life. Maybe something really was waiting for him. It all depended on the person in front of him.
There was nothing to wait for, and Vice really wasn't the waiting type. Never hesitating, never cautious, he walked frankly toward whoever was standing near the opposite wall, and as he drew closer, he could see it was a girl. He liked girls. Pretty girls, that is. Tilting his chin slightly up as he walked ever closer, Vice looked down at her, studied her silently. It didn't bother him that she seemed to be waiting for his approach, and he noticed with an amused smile that red oozed from a small gash on the girl's face. His hand went instinctively to his arm, smearing what blood had not dried, and then rubbed his bare stomach absentmindedly, his abdominal muscles rippling with the effort he took to conceal his laughter. He wasn't laughing because of the wound. In fact, he wasn't exactly sure why he was laughing. It was just that this seemingly pitiful creature had chosen to sleep in a warehouse. Didn't she have anymore guts than that? Vice continued to study her intently as he tried to make up his mind.
The girl had not shown any signs of movement, and this irked Vice somehow. He liked girls to raise a challenge, to make the chase more fun. More fun for him, at least. He decided she needed a little...prodding. Letting his lips part into what he knew by now was a devastating grin, he stopped just near her, drawing himself up to his full height, and stared at her, his face just inches from hers. He shifted his weight and let his bangs fall into his eyes. Lifting a strong, steady hand, he lightly touched the girl's hair, placed both hands on either side of her face, and used a thumb to gently wipe away the blood from her cheek.
"Are you the wayward type, beautiful?" he whispered, drawing back slightly.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 10, 2008 8:52:33 GMT -5
Delilah cocked her head slightly to the left as the figure seemed to be, shakins his arm? It didnt look very menecing but still she was cautious as she assessed the situation. When he walked towards her she stood her ground knowing that if she took a step back it would make her look weak but truthfully, she was a little scared. She didn't let it show on her face, learning to keep a straight face was something she'd had years of practice as as a child. Even one little reaction to any violence against her real people and the spaniards would have found out her familys secret.
As he walked towards her the light from the now definetely wide open window cast a bit of light into the room but most of the room was still in shadow and thankfully where she stood was mostly shadows. She saw when he touched his arm and for a moment a smirk appreared on her face, her thoughts satisfied that he had also been hurt in his smashing window adventures. She thought it served him right.
When he came up short right near to her she studied his face as it pulled into a grin. Her eyes narrowed. So he was one of those. Those brats who happened to have looks and thought they could get everything with them. She knew his type, and she wasn't going to let his imatture boyish tricks get to her. He'd have to have some pretty good tricks to manipulate a manipuator.
His bangs fell into his eyes and she formed a small quick plan of action, she took a slight step to the side but only enough so that half of her face was now in the light. Her green eyes shown brightly in the fading light of the sun as he stared at her, and she stared right back but kept her expression soft. When his hand touched her hair she pretended not to notice and kept right on looking at him. When both hands were on her face, she felt sick to her stomach and had to pay careful attention not to let it show on her face, she had to make him think she was enjoying it. She carefully allowed a shy smile to creep onto her face as her eyes never left his.
"Are you the wayward type, beautiful?"
Her stomach settled slightly as he drew back a bit but he was still a little to close for her comfort zone. Her right hand was slightly hidden behind her back and she curled her fingers into a fist, just in case. She wasn't sure what to do but for some reason the mixture of fear, adrenaline, catiousness, and nausea had formed into a new emotion. She gently tried to pull back from his hands and replied in a voice soaked in innocent confusion, "Do you wan't be to be?". She bit her lip gently to contain the overwhelming smirk that wanted to take over her face. If she let it show it would show that she in fact knew what was going on, and where would be the fun in that?
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 10, 2008 16:49:45 GMT -5
The feel of the girl's face was smooth to his work-roughened hands, and Vice liked the warmth of her flesh against his in the chill of the evening air. It bothered him that he was enjoying this. Attempting to maintain focus, Vice reminded himself of his initial desire. He needed nobody, and what was more, he didn't want anyone, either. And who the hell was this girl he was sidling up to, taking her face in his hands? He really wasn't sure what had possessed him to do what he had just done, but decided to chalk it up to his ever raging hormones and the need for some excitement in an otherwise dull day. He realized that he hadn't even seen the girl completely, just her outline in the dim light of the warehouse. That wasn't like him, pursuing without first seeing. Maybe it had something to do with the air of mystery he felt she possessed. Yes, that was it. He rather liked mystery.
He was still waiting for a response to what he'd just asked. He wondered how she had taken it. Of course, he had meant to be sarcastic, but there had also been a hint of genuine curiosity in the question. At the moment, he really wasn't feeling any sympathy toward this girl, even if she did have to sleep in a warehouse and the cut on her face was practically his fault. Sure, she had it rough. That sucked. But didn't they all? Vice felt the girl shrink back slightly, her face sliding back from his hands. He kept a firm hold against her resistance and wondered at her reasoning. He felt sure she found him attractive, judging by the way she had met his gaze. Maybe she felt intimidated. Or, Vice thought as a new idea entered his mind, perhaps she actually was the "wayward type", and was going to put up a fight. That intrigued him. He'd met with a couple of those before.
"Do you want me to be?"
The girl's voice was not how he had expected it to be, nor had he been expecting an answer, and Vice looked back to her face, surprised. He raised his eyebrows at the innocence in her voice, but tried not to read into it. It could be some kind of a farce. Some girls were just tricky. Did he want her to be? He hadn't been expecting to have to answer that, and the question came as a surprise. Did he? A bit of fun was always welcome, yes, but it was just as amusing conquering the shy, quiet, innocent ones. He really didn't know, so he decided not to answer just yet.
She was biting her lip. Oh, damn it. With his hands still firmly on either side of the girl's face, Vice averted his gaze. That would do it for him. If she did that one more time, he was going to lose his vigor and be sucked under her spell. And he would not allow that to happen. He narrowed his eyes. She was up to something, and whatever it was, she was awfully good at it.
He let his hands drop suddenly, and stepped back, sizing her up. Maybe he'd taken the wrong approach. He decided to respond to her question.
"You answer first. I wanna know what you want out of me."
Vice once again ran a hand through his hair, like he always did, and ran his tongue across the inside of his bottom lip, waiting.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 10, 2008 20:30:28 GMT -5
Adrenaline pumped through ayala's veins. When she'd pulled back slightly he hadnt let her go and her heart thumped awkwardly as she wondered if perhaps he wouldn't let go at all. Then again, she could always make him. Her fist tightened even more so that her fingernails were almost digging into the flesh of her palm. Oh yes, she could make him.
The look of surprise on vices face was amusing and she couldn't help but think that it suited him fairly well. She smirked for the moment that his eyes weren't on her and she knew she'd found a weakness. Her cheeks were suddenly cold as his hands left them. She hadn't realized how warm his skin had been against hers until they were absent. She smiled at him feeling much more at ease now that he wasn't touching her. She was still trying to figure a way out of the room that didn't involve her getting hurt but she couldn't really see one. Her mind was working on overtime.
"You answer first. I wanna know what you want out of me."
"well since you're the one who woke me up, maybe you should answer first" she said crossing her arms on her chest, her tone mocking him lightly. The intensity of his studying of her was making her slightly nervous though she didn't want him to know that so she lifted one hand for a moment to block the light from her eyes as she took a step back towards the shadows. Once she was safely away from the harshest of the light she folded her arm back across her chest.
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 10, 2008 23:09:43 GMT -5
He had hoped that being up front with her would get him somewhere, let him know what she was up to, but Vice had to admit that she brought up a very good point. He had woken her, and honestly, she did have a right to know why he was there. The problem with that was Vice had no idea. But now that he stood here watching her, he decided he might as well play along.
"Well, since you're the one who woke me up, maybe you should answer first."
He really couldn't argue with that. So what had she asked? Did he want her to be the easy, yet dangerous type? Vice pretended to look thoughtful as he widened his stance and rolled back on his heels. And would how he responded determine her attitude toward him? He didn't know, but he quickly decided he didn't care. If she held no hope of cooperation at all, he would just walk out the way he had come and forget all about the incident. It was as simple as that.
"Ok, I like that." Here, Vice made a sort of sucking sound with his lips. He noticed that the girl had crossed her arms, and he wondered if it was a sign of weakness or a sign of frustration. Maybe both. He still hadn't answered her completely, and she lifted a hand as if to shield herself from the light that poured in through the shattered window.
"I've got to be honest, beautiful. I was hoping for a little action."
Vice gave a small shrug of his shoulders and crossed his arms, too, to match hers.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 11, 2008 21:42:37 GMT -5
While Vice was thinking Delilah relaxed her stance and looked him over. She hadn't really been paying attention to anything other than his presence until now. As her eyes roamed over him she realized that he was probably looking at her so she glanced up to check and then looked away quickly.
"I've got to be honest, beautiful. I was hoping for a little action."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "huh" she said quietly and half of her mouth twisted up into a half grin. She looked down at the ground trying to figure out what she should say to that. She wasn't sure what she wanted but he was definetely starting to make her feel slightly restless. Her eyes locked on his feet and as she looked up her eyes followed his body. She uncrossed her arms and reached hesitantly out towards his arm. She took a small step foreward and then brushed her fingertips against his arm, right above the cut from the window. She decided to pretend to ignore his question and just replied, "that from the window?"
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 11, 2008 22:31:31 GMT -5
Vice didn't have to wait long for an answer. He heard the girl's reply, a short "huh" that was almost murmured, and wondered if that was all she was going to say. The conversation wasn't getting anywhere fast, but then again, Vice had never been much into talking. He tried to decide what the half-grin on her face meant, but he was at a loss. He hadn't met many girls like this before, and although she intrigued him, he was also starting to become irritated, not so much with her, but at himself for failing to understand the signs she was giving him. But that was the problem; she wasn't giving him much to work with. Vice was used to girls who laid it out for you: either they were interested, or they weren't.
He could see that she, too, was at a loss for words, and her eyes moved to the ground. Half of him wanted to wait there until she looked up, but the other half wanted to wash his hands of her. He was wasting his time. As soon as that thought entered his mind, he pushed it down again, unwilling to just leave. Oh, hell. He didn't know what he wanted. Was he waiting for her to make up her mind first? That wasn't like him either. The girl's head was lifting now, and Vice watched as her eyes traveled up his body, taking in his form, his stance, all of him, and for the first time, he felt somewhat uncomfortable under her gaze. It had been a long time since he had genuinely cared what a girl thought about his body. Now, for some strange reason, he found himself caring.
The girl now uncrossed her arms in a relaxed manner, and reached tentatively toward him, almost as if wondering if she dared to come closer. Vice wasn't surprised when she seemed to conquer any doubts she might have had, and took a step, this time letting her fingers brush the smooth of his arm. Vice tried not to wince at the pain he had been ignoring, but found that her fingertips were cool and light and that he enjoyed her touch more than he had expected. He swallowed.
"That from the window?"
Vice hardly realized that his initial question had gone unanswered. He licked his lips nervously, trying to keep himself in check. This wasn't what he'd expected, and he wasn't sure how to handle himself. Vice didn't want to lose his tough image, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to maintain it, now that he felt the urge to let his guard down. For the first time since he'd left home, he wanted someone to understand him, someone to relate to, and he wasn't sure that he liked the feeling. But it was there just the same, and Vice knew he'd have to make a decision quickly; he was being ridiculous.
Suddenly, he didn't know if he could handle this, the feeling of not wanting to be alone anymore emotionally. Sure, there had always been the physical side of things, and he'd always been up for that, but actually letting someone begin to know him? He'd never considered it, and here he was, debating on how to approach this girl, whose name he didn't even know. He felt like an idiot for wishing the girl would come closer still, that he could feel all of her hand, her flesh on his, and also for wanting her to speak again. He decided he would do the only thing he knew how.
Drawing back from her touch, Vice pulled his eyes away from the girl's, reluctant to leave. He bit his lip in frustration, turned away, and went quietly to the window.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 11, 2008 22:51:12 GMT -5
Delilahs expression changed as Vice turned around. She felt stupid, her hand had only fell slightly without the support of his arm underneath it and still hung in the air. She pulled it down to her side quickly as she looked after him.
Her stomach hurt, and she didn't know why. She felt a little sick maybe, just a unsettled feeling in her stomach. She was so confused. Sure she'd grown up dependent on her parents and then on her foster home but she'd left that so easily and willingly that she forgot what it was like to be left.
She didnt want him to leave. It was kind of nice to have him around after all of her days on the streets without another person to talk to, even if the talking was just a few words of which some could be misconstrued as threats.
So what? He was leaving. Big deal. She pushed her thoughts away and tryed to think as she had before when she'd been ready and willing to punch him in the face if it came to it. He was just one of many people in the world and she'd find another person that she enjoyed talking to eventually. She'd made up her mnid, and yet she couldn't help but feel that maybe she'd done something wrong.
"i'm sorry?" she said quietly, not knowing wether or not he'd hear it but she'd said it so alreayd she felt slightly better. She didn't think shed done anything wrong so if he didnt accept the apology well that was up to him. He could be a jerk if he wanted to but she would still do the right thing.
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 11, 2008 23:48:50 GMT -5
It had been hard enough to muster his strength and turn around, fighting his desire, but at the sound of her voice, Vice stopped completely.
"I'm sorry?"
At first, Vice wasn't certain if he'd heard right. Had she actually just apologized? He tried to think back, to something he'd said, something she'd said, that she might be apologizing for and he could think of nothing. Although he felt he should just get his exit over with, Vice couldn't resist turning to face her again, and he watched her watching him. It was an odd feeling, and he wished someone would say something. Of course, that person would have to be him, but he had no idea how to respond to an apology he could see no need for. If anything, he should be the one apologizing. He was the one leaving, the one just giving up, backing out. But Vice wasn't in the habit of apologizing, so he decided not to attempt it. Instead, he took one step forward, knowing he must look like a complete fool. But really, he couldn't make up his mind.
"Sorry?" Vice was at a loss. "Why...what the hell do you have to be sorry for?"
He knew it wasn't exactly the most gentle reply, and he hoped he hadn't offended her. She obviously thought she had done something wrong, and he wanted to clear her mind of that thought. He had no idea how. But now that he'd started, he might as well keep on. She'd drawn him back, no getting out now.
He walked slowly back across the room until he stood right in front of her, looking down as he had done before. He could only see the outline of her form in the darkness, and the cool night air blew gently in from outside, ruffling her hair. Vice felt himself relaxing as he inhaled deeply, allowing the coolness to wash through him. He didn't know who this girl was, but in that moment, something in him was decided. He knew he wanted her.
Reaching out a strong hand, he found her waist in the darkness, and drew her close to him, praying silently that she wouldn't resist. He spoke again, this time with a softened tone, "I can't leave." It was more of a response to himself, a verbal decision, but he hoped that it would make sense to her, too.
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Post by Delilah on Sept 12, 2008 18:50:21 GMT -5
She was a little surprised when Vice turned back around. The fingers on her right hand wrapped around the elbow of her left hand as they stood there in silence for a few moments. For a second she was afraid when he stepped towards her.
"Sorry?" Vice was at a loss. "Why...what the hell do you have to be sorry for?"
She hadn't been expecting that kind of a reaction from him. She'd only apologized because it had felt like the right thing to do, not for any specific reason. "i.. i just... i dont know? you seemed angry..." she said quietly afraid that maybe she would just make him angry which was exactly the opposite of what she was trying to do.
When he approached her she shifted slightly, the wind from the window picking up small stray pieces of hair. She looked up at him as she felt his hands on her waist. She'd known that he'd gotten closer but she didnt realize that he was right there, obviously close enough to touch. As he drew her close her breath was stuck in her throat. She wanted to resist and she tried, but after a second she stopped. Her body wouldn't let her. her eyebrows kntted together in confusion as she looked up at him.
"I can't leave."
She was trying to figure him out but it wasn't working. She reminded herself to breath and she took a small breath while trying to ignore how close they were now. She didnt get why he'd said that he couldn't leave but when she thought about it for some reason it kind of made her want to smile. She remembered her arms which had been limp at her sides and she lifted one of them up tenitavely. Her fingers hesitated near his arm as if she was reaching towards a wild animal. She lifted her hand to brush his cheek gently. She knew now that she'd been wrong, he wasn't angry. But he did seem upset and she didn't like other people to be distressed. "What's your name?" she asked gently.
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 13, 2008 17:17:09 GMT -5
Vice couldn't keep his mind from racing, yet he felt that he was thinking more clearly than he ever had before. His senses seemed heightened, and he savored the warmth of her body, the curve of her figure, the softness of her flesh beneath his arm. He was keenly aware of her closeness, and he was glad that she no longer resisted. She seemed to accept the fact that he wanted to be near her, and Vice could only hope that she would somehow want the same. Things were running together now, and he vaguely remembered her saying something about how she had thought he seemed angry. Had he come across that way? True, he'd been looking for a fight when he first barged into the room, flexing his muscles with ruthless intent, but that feeling had long since faded away, and he stood here now.
He didn't feel like himself. If he'd had to describe it, he wouldn't have known what to say but that he felt outside of himself, almost out of body, except for the fact that he was very aware of his body at present. Or rather, he was aware of her body against his. He felt very vulnerable, and in some strange way, he welcomed the feeling. The girl had not moved, was still looking up at him. He watched as she lifted a hand now, slowly, almost hesitating, as if afraid of his reaction. He kept his expression soft, trying to convey without words that it was fine if she touched him. Vice never let his eyes leave her face. He felt her cool fingers brush his cheek, their touch even more light and beautiful than it had felt before. There was no sign of contempt from her now.
"What's your name?"
She was speaking again. Vice relished the sound, and it took him a moment to answer. He felt that his own voice would ruin everything, yet if he kept silent, she might think he was angry again and everything would shatter, just like the window. Vice licked his lips and inhaled deeply, releasing the air slowly as his mind moved faster than ever. He wished it would slow down. Somehow, he was able to find his voice, and as he spoke aloud again, he was surprised at its deepness, "Did you really have to ask that now?"
He hoped she would hear the playful lilt to his words, and as if to demonstrate that he was far from being angry, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. Maybe he had gone too far, but he would never know until he tried, and Vice doubted that he could have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. Resting his cheek on the top of the girl's head, he breathed in the sweetness of her hair, felt her steady breathing beneath him, and murmured softly, "It's Isaac."
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Post by Delilah on Sept 13, 2008 21:08:22 GMT -5
As her fingers brushed his face the realization of how close they were struck her. He didn't seem to mind so she ignored the thought as she watched his face. His eyes were on her face as well and she felt a little shy. When he inhaled she was so close to him that she almost felt his chest move.
"Did you really have to ask that now?"
Delilah felt her cheeks warm a little and was afraid that he might see the color that had appeared there dispite the darkness. She looked down a little but still her eyes stayed on him. She realized now that it had gotten darker in the room and that barely any sun filtered in through the dirty windows that were still intact. The broken window was allowing wind to flow into the room and as he light had begun to dissapear, the warmth of the day had slowly ebbed.
Her stomach knotted slightly as his arm wrapped around her and suddenly her skin was only centimeters away from his. She felt the warmth eminating from him and suddenly she wanted to close those last few centimeters. When he drew her closer she lifted one of her arms and wrapped it loosely around his waist. She hadn't hugged anyone in a while but she thought it would seem innocent enough.
She felt his cheek on her head and she layed her head on his chest gently hopeing that he wouldnt notice. She didn't like feeling dependent, but she had to admit that she didnt mind this. Plus, he was warm.
"It's Isaac."
She chuckled and then turned to look up at him. "Biblical." she noted with laughter in her voice, "People call me Delilah, so i guess we match in that sense." She smiled and went on, "But my real name is Ayala. Ayala Lucia."
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Post by Vice Ingram on Sept 13, 2008 22:47:10 GMT -5
It was surprising how things could change in such short time, Vice thought as he stood there in the dark room, his arms wrapped around a girl he barely knew. He couldn't decide what exactly it was that had caused him to peel back his hard outer layers, but Vice knew as he felt the softness of her hair against his cheek that he wouldn't change a thing if he ever got the chance. Being where he was right now felt so right, and he couldn't explain why. He only knew that this was what he wanted, and he hoped fervently that this girl wouldn't take his scarred heart and trample it to pieces. He supposed that was why it had been so long since he'd let anyone past the sharp bitterness that often ruled him.
He had been a bit worried that the girl wouldn't take well to his being so close, but as she encircled her arm gently about his waist, all his anxiety faded away with the rest of the setting sun.
He felt wanted, and he suddenly wondered how he had survived so long without the feeling. There was no distance between them now. Vice could feel the contour of her body hugging his, could sense the passion that she was capable of, and gladly allowed his body to relax into hers. He felt her lay her head gently against his broad chest, and his heart raced. It had been a long time since he'd felt like this. Not just wanted, but needed.
Everything was like a dream, a haze, yet absolutely crystal clear. He remembered whispering his name to her, his real name. He wasn't sure exactly why he'd chosen his real name to tell her, but thought maybe he'd done it because he was finally ready to face reality. He wanted her to know the real him, not the cover he'd built for himself. He was a little surprised when she laughed, but smiled slightly as he listened to its sweet quality. He felt her head rising and lifted his, too, as their gaze met.
"Biblical. People call me Delilah, so i guess we match in that sense...But my real name is Ayala. Ayala Lucia."
Vice couldn't help but grin as Ayala smiled up at him, "I don't think I want to know right now why they call you Delilah."
He was dead serious. He drew her even closer, nestling his cheek in her hair again. "Ayala is a beautiful name."
He stood like this for a moment, cradling her in his arms, until he became suddenly restless. Staying still close to her, Vice released her and moved his hands once again to her face, this time without mockery. He let his breathing slow, and concentrated on remembering. If anything should happen, he wanted to have this memory. He wanted to remember the shape of her face, the feel of his skin on hers, her warmth, the rise and fall of her chest. Vice took a step back, making a mental note of her figure in the moonlight now streaming through the broken glass, but suddenly felt that Ayala was already too far away. He stepped toward her again.
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