Gold Weaver | ✓

dreizehn

DREIZEHN

It took a while of convincing and even then he said he didn't seem all that clear on my intentions.

"Please," I said. "It's for closure. I won't attack him or anything."

"It's not you hurting him that I'm worried about," he said. "It's him killing you. My men are trained that if they are attacked, they are to kill. It's engrained."

All this time he'd threatened to kill me and now he was scared that someone else would beat him to it. I almost wanted to laugh or cry. I was still undecided.

"Can't you just tell him not to?"

"Instincts are not so easy to alter," he said, twisting a ring on his finger over and over.

A nervous habit maybe?

"Fine," he said, like my begging had made the string his tempter hung on very thin. "But under my circumstances."

It was better than nothing. "Okay."

He nodded. "Oh, and your friend is waiting for you in the dining room."

My eyes widened and before I could even think about etiquette, I was sprinting off in what I hoped was the direction of the dining room.

I clattered through the door, making it fling against the wall wildly. Not having the inclination to hope I hadn't done any damage, I looked around.

My eyes landed on the brunette in the room, looking poised as she sat at the table with her fingers locked together in front of her. When she saw me, the false put togetherness she carried dropped.

She sprinted over to me.

Neither of us really stopped or slowed down, so we ended up crashing together. I didn't pay much attention to the soreness in my side as our limbs collided, nor to the inability to breathe as she squeezed me for all I was worth.

She realised me to stare, hard, at my face. It was as if she was checking it was really me.

"They haven't hurt you?"

Define hurt. I shook my head. Despite this, she examined the hand she was holding and then the arm attached to it, followed by the other. I'm sure she'd have examined my whole body, had I not placed a hand on her's.

I smiled at her, but it didn't feel quite as genuine as normal. "I'm fine."

"They've got you locked up here doing fuck knows what," she said, wild hair shaking as she spoke with passion. "You're allowed to be fucking upset."

"Trust me," I said. "I am. I've just found ways to... distract myself."

"Oh my fucking god," she said, staring at me like she'd just had the biggest epiphany of her life. You're fucking someone, aren't you? That'd explain why your hair looks so shiny." At my bashful silence, she grinned broadly. "Tell me everything. Cock size to thrust rhythm. Go."

"Not here," I said, looking around. "Come with me."

We walked over to the door and walked the short stretch to an open space.