Vampire

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 00:03:56 GMT

“Riley…” I whispered, trying to keep hold on him. Whatever it was making him do this, to lose control (that, until this point, he had held completely) in the still dark and now alive alley, was pure power.

And I could do nothing but watch.

--------------------------------

Part Two

As quickly and violently as it had come it was gone, leaving only the after shadows behind Eliza's eyes, the dull ringing of what once was echoing to a fade in her ears. She was alone now, between the cool and familiar sheets of her own bed, the heavy buzz of the city behind her, slowly easing its way through her open window and down her nearly exposed spine. Riley was no where to be found. Sleep had taken her without warning, she could feel it in her eyes, and she was bewildered and frightened for a moment that lasted a hundred years before finally convincing herself that what she had experienced was little more than a dream. Simply a dream. She breathed quietly and laid back, letting her body elongate and soften, pale eyes wandering the ceiling. There was no other sound than that of the world outside and for a moment more she was frightened, as this was the first instance in quite some time that her mysterious stranger had not been by her side. She blinked then, realizing that she was in fact alone...and Eliza sat up once more.

"Riley?" There was no response, no steady stream of steps, no patterned breathing, no uncomfortable lack of distance between them. She recalled the last moments of her dream, watching Riley wither to little more than a crumpled flower, recalling the way his breath spilled out from him in a torturous way, the way his mouth peeled back...and his teeth...
A heavy series of blinks then and she turned herself to allow her feet to touch the cold floor beneath her, a suddenly tight grip on her sheets loosening and falling away. She stood with a dull stagger, still slightly disoriented, adjusting the strap to her camisole. There was something wet and warm on her shoulder. She looked down slowly, nearly knowing what she would find, and upon seeing the still fresh splash of blood, Eliza stumbled. Her breath grew short. She turned back to her bed. Violent splashes of blood, hateful paint strokes of reddish brown death and had she been able to scream, she would've. The dismembered remains of what she simply knew was Riley lay helplessly staring at her, a single droplet of blood sliding across his lifeless eye. She stumbled further and tripped over something warm and bulky on the floor. Something turned her to face it, someone's hands, some force, and Riley, yet again, lay lifeless on the floor, his proud elegance shattered with his skull, his fingers crooked strangely, his mouth agape, Eliza's name on his tongue. The room began to spin and she put her hand to her mouth, nauseous and empty, and it was only when her wet, slightly sticky fingers brought Riley's blood to her mouth that she turned and tried to run, slamming hard into someone. She went to scream but nothing came out, Eliza choking on the salty blood that was beginning to fill her lungs, the smell of rot and must, the taste of blood, the overwhelming nausea, and she knew then that she was drowning. That she too would die here. Her attempts at screaming were muffled by the blood that was now pouring from her mouth, her ears, her eyes-- and as she fell, she reached upward, wet hand caught by a hard, ready grip...
And it was Riley hovering over her.
She screamed then, suddenly very able, and twisted in the cool, dank air of the dark, unfamiliar alley. Her body writhed and tore through the space, scratching, trying desperately to get away while a very weak, exasperated Riley tried hard to keep her still, unsteady arms clambering about her uselessly. Her voice would not leave her, the scream that was now tearing at the back of her throat stinging to the point of tears and she would not stop even to breathe. Her head was still spinning, she knew, she knew that the blood that was once on her hands was real...and Eliza was slowly losing grip on reality, just as planned. Riley, still unable to speak, was simply grasping at her, pulling strength from the very reaches of his being (as there wasn't much left on reserve) just to try and keep the girl still. When he had caught his breath enough, he shook her hard, teeth bared and eyes pleading.
The kitchen staff of Bruxton’s behind them had now come pouring out of the back entrance, most frightened and horridly curious, and with the strength that he did not have, Riley pulled a still writhing Eliza back out of the alley and into the dark breeze way that lead to the nearest street. He had now covered her mouth completely, and she had resolved herself to incomprehensible pleads, strength gone and Eliza left only to tremble madly and sob, shaking her head violently whenever her mind would stop twisting enough to allow her the movement. Riley waited, his head against the damp, harsh brick, his chin lifted upward, his jaw aching, his body on fire, his breath short, eyes shut tight. He did not let her go. A thousand hours passed as she murmured and sobbed and yelped and shook...and when she had finally lost the strength to move at all he hesitantly let her go. The back of his head, hair matted against his brow, scraped against the brick as he lowered himself enough to try and hold her comfortably, sight lowering to catch her eyes, wild and bruised by tears. When he was confident that she was at least looking at him, his hand slipped away from her mouth, fingers wet from her saliva and tears combined. Her mouth was open slightly, her breath spilling into the thick air-- and she remained still.

"Eliza...it was only--"

She had already knocked him hard against the face with her elbow, leaning into the force of the blow with her entire body, contorting his neck, his cheek against the brick and his jaw snapping. She scraped away from him with little resistance due to the shock and was fleeing out onto the street and into the night before he had even opened his eyes.

And somewhere, in the nestled and now calm darkness of the alley, someone was smiling.

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 00:03:30 GMT

I looked to him a moment, where the glance was returned never…and I turned with a sigh, hearing his own.

“Thank you. It won’t take me but a second or two…we could catch a bite to eat or something and I’ll take you home.”

Fighting fire with fire, I simply offered to take him where he needed to go…and crossed my fingers in hopes of his staying while I disappeared into the privacy of my own room.

_____________________

Of course we weren’t hungry. Of course he didn’t want me to take him home. On the subway, at eleven or so, where the sallow lights of electric, noisy and old advertisements shadowed only the smell of piss and beer and city, we sat mindlessly staring in different directions, perhaps collectively pondering on the events of our lives, how they had come together, how separately they were falling apart, how much I wanted him…and I was uncomfortable in not only the clothes I wore- but the skin beneath them. There were people arguing in my head- I could hear it clearly- and I simply focused on the battle and the quiet roar of unsteady subway rails, Riley and I on our way to the same corner café that we usually drank at, but this time with a less mysterial happiness and a more violently dreadful calm. I think that, had we walked, it would’ve killed us.

I pushed a lock of hair away from my throat, my head leaning back and to my left- staring out the window of a still moving car as brick and darkness flew past- stopping only so often for a breath of visitation, sometimes only wretched air- and my hands fell from my lap and to the lukewarm seat that he and I shared and as my fingers fell, so did my eyes- only to my knees as my knuckles brushed past his pant leg- and he looked over to me. It was completely by accident, I’m sure of it, but it was cause enough for some door to open- as he looked over and to me with a quiet calm, perhaps warmly. Perhaps he might’ve asked whether or not I was okay, a smile and a breath as a gave him a random cliché of a response. Perhaps he would’ve taken me into his arms and kissed my head and told me how very precious I was once more, breathing fire into my veins and life into my eyes. But he simply looked at me, his head canting just slightly as, with my head lulled back, my throat wavered with a swallow and a breath, my eyes staying to his own and my body dead…and he blinked, startling himself slightly.

“How are you feeling, Eliza?”

My head left the cold, rattling window frame behind me as the street car halted smoothly (but violently all the same) to face him entirely, the rest of my body turning as a smoother knee cap hit against his thigh with sincere force, quietly, subtle even, but still a touch. And he knew it. “My head feels sort of detached from the rest of my body, to tell you the truth.”

“Do you think you’re coming down with something?” It was outright ridiculous, his trying to play off the past few days, hours, minutes as a normal slice of time, the only difference being my ‘coming down with something.’ It was preposterous. I couldn’t help but grin.

“I don’t think so, Riley.”

________________________________

I remember the way it felt to walk into Bruxton’s. The very place Riley and I had shared our first drink…my first fantasy of something lude and passionate between the two of us. It was a warmer air than the outside, the quiet rhythms of later business meetings and first dates buzzing, the smoke filled air of expensive cigars and trashy cigarettes. Something didn’t feel right. Something wasn’t the same as before. I was in the process of analyzing the entirety of my surroundings as Riley slid a nearly languid hand to my spine, allowing me in front of him only slightly as he closed the door behind us. Red lights…sweeter smelling cigars…the chime of glass to bottle…what was this air that made everything off? Not even a touch from Riley himself could pull me from this entirely.

“Eliza?” He knew it. I could feel it before his words. He looked down to me, a slight crease of his brow as careless eyes simply tore past me a moment- looking over my features and his hand still to my back, wilder hair falling over his forehead with the movement- and he was quiet.

“Something’s not right here, Riley. Something’s not ri-” I could feel it. Again. There was a hiss in my ears that started out near to the hiss of silence, beneath all the sounds that I was used to hearing…it slowly grew, taking over every breath of conversation I could hear…any note that might possibly keep the sound waves shivering left me for a dull silence. I could feel my pupils dilate…the dimmer lights begin to hurt eyes that I could not close. The last thing I saw was Riley- who was closer to me now, it felt like he was inside of me, that his shoulder had pierced my temple and slowly he would step into my skin. There was nothing. I forgot my body, I was frightened and unable to move. The last thing I could feel was my heart.

And it was slowing. It hurt to breathe. I wanted to scream with every beat of the muscle that lay beneath my numb chest…and suddenly I knew it was happening again. There was no dream of Riley- there was no precursor, only pure pain doused with fear as I lay trembling in my own body. Cold fingers wrapped slowly about my heart as it screamed to simply continue beating and I was slowly dying. There was no sound. I couldn’t hear Riley yelling for me this time. I couldn’t feel his shaking me.

“…Y…”

It was a pure voice. Frightening in its clarity…it burned my ears- brought heat to my eardrums and I could feel them pulsing.

“You ar…”
And I choked. I could feel breath, humid and hot enter my lungs. The air hit me hard, sound raced passed and into me. Street. Concrete. Breath. When my eyes could open, they were immediately on Riley, who was pressed against me, his head turned downwards and slightly to the left- where a forever sallow streetlight poured over his twisted features and wet teeth, which were gritted and strange in the shadows…his hands on either side of me with palms to the …alley wall (which immediately brought the thought of my initial, intimate thoughts of Riley to the forefront) …his stomach coming to and leaving my own as he heaved, shaking and struggling to keep himself up. I was being kept upright solely by his holding. My eyes rolled in my head, I was sick again, and my knees fell out from beneath me- where my head fell back, my hair keeping to the hard brick behind me as I slid down and Riley came with me, trying to soften the blow by slowing us both down, the strength of his legs bringing us to the corner, hidden in this alley way that I had once only dreamed of- the cackle of old, musty newspapers beneath us both as I hit the wet ground, Riley’s arms wrapped about me, holding my hands to my sides as his coat caught itself between us and around us at the same time- his head lowering until I felt his forehead on my collar, an audible groan left him. He had what was in me, this disease…and I felt it with him- his taking this from my body and into his own- fighting with it until it died- keeping itself dormant until the next round. It held to me tightly- this time harder than the first…and not leaving so quickly…and his weight, his holding me, slackened just slightly.

“Hh…” It was all I could muster for seconds until his name left me in only a scared breath, “Riley…”

He did not answer. Only a shiver, his head still against my collar and his body tangled with my own, his knees beneath him, his arms still about me. He was losing.

“Riley…” my wrists moved, and then my elbows, catching his sleeves- and with a smack, holding tightly to them- jostling his arms. “Riley.”

My breath grew quick and my grip tighter. I thought instantly of how he had stopped this…my being conscious of his mouth on mine- the remnants of it this go round. I thought, also, of the voice that had spoken to me…had needed to say something. I pushed my shoulder up, Riley’s head heavy on top- and I slithered my right hand away from his grip…which still held me- and I grabbed hold of his face, awkwardly-pulling it towards my mouth, closing my eyes tightly for fear of what my happen. My mouth fell haphazardly over his own…and I breathed. Nothing…only my own breath. I whimpered, my mouth vibrating over his own because of it, I‘m sure- and he twitched- moving slightly and I inhaled again. With it came movement on my part, trying to get a better hold of his mouth with my own, my tongue staying completely still, my eyes shut tight- and when my mouth pursed slightly did I feel the stab to the underside of my upper lip. I flinched wildly, trying not to break loose as Riley moved none…but I could feel the heat begin to fall. It was small…and what I had cut myself on, I didn’t know…the salt of my own blood hitting my lower lip and falling surely over his own. He twitched again…my left arm sliding away from his now languid hold…having fallen about me like ribbon…before his head canted slightly and his mouth pursed. I was horrified at what had become of this, Riley staying still completely with the exception of his own mouth, pursing, so that he held me directly over where the cut lay. My eyes opened quickly and violently, just as Riley’s closed…softly and purposefully…but with a delirious lack of consciousness- and he sucked slightly at the left corner of my mouth and the still leaking cut that hid there, a breath leaving him and falling into my mouth and over my cheek. I couldn’t take it. I broke away with a gasp, my head hitting against the brick harshly with a scrape- hair flailing and falling across my cheek- strands aching to be where Riley’s mouth once lay. I could only look at him- his eyes opening- his mouth darker than I was used to…his eyes still closed- his head against and cradled into the crook of my left arm, the rest of his body tangled with my own, as well as older newspapers and this dirty alley way. I could feel my brow begin to crease into absolute wonder as to what the hell had just happened. He came back slowly…and it was then that my eyes caught his mouth.

“I…am…sorr…” Perhaps he then realized what was happening. I had seen. The amount of saliva that made his mouth glisten, the darker shade of his lips- the aching quiver and the canines that pulled themselves from his gums and extended over his bottom row of teeth, scraping nearly audibly. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Again.

He was suddenly afraid. I could tell by the way his entire body tightened in my grasp…tangled with me here, atop newspaper in a humid alleyway directly behind Bruxton’s- and his identity revealed. The boy might as well have been completely naked. I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to get away. What the hell was this? Was I still dreaming? He had not moved, his eyes, always dead, held complete abandon and fear (for a moment) as he realized that in this half conscious state he had allowed himself a lack of control- and this…his being revealed…was the consequence.

I screamed.

He jumped immediately, his face faltering as he wrenched forward, his mouth closing tightly and his throat bobbing with a quick swallow, perhaps to devour the temptation for more of me that still quivered on his tongue, he slammed a hand over my face, harshly over my screaming mouth as my head, once again, hit the brick behind me. It hurt. Badly. And my eyes immediately welled with tears as my full blown screams were left to wild pleads of nothing, stifled behind a cold hand.

“Don’t scream. Don’t scream, Eliza…”

I fought against him and his shaking whisper, the boy just as frightened as I. I was scared out of mind- and tangled with him- and no longer were my arms free. He, in retrospect, was trying not to focus solely on the pulse of blood through my veins that was faster than the speed of sound, I’m sure…while he kept a harder grip on my mouth. I twisted, which hurt, and whimpered continuously- saline from my wider eyes and crumpled face falling fast over his knuckles now…and sound died to nothing but breathing, to nothing but sobs.

“Eliza…don’t cry, please.,” Where he softened his grip on my mouth, “…we don’t need any attention. For numerous reasons. Are you alright?”

With his head lowered, his eyes on mine as some sort of consolation to what he was saying, he slowly let go of my mouth, which was bleeding again, and with dragging fingers which echoed his state of mind from moments earlier- he allowed me to breathe, hoping that I would stay quiet. I did as he asked. When the final finger left my quivering bottom lip, I took a moment to look at him. His mouth still dark, his face painted with complete concern, his body trembling, his voice strong and his breath hoarse-- I simply allowed my head to sink back as far as I could, subconsciously licking the spill of blood which was beginning to cake at the corner of my mouth.

“What… the fuck are you?” I whispered in a moment of rage, twisting my wrist from his grip, counterclockwise and away.

He allowed my freedom, perhaps accepting the fact that he had every expectation, and I every intention, of my fleeing and never looking back. His breath left him and hit my chin, his head lowering further as did his eyesight this time, to where our knees wove into each others’ thighs, and he spoke quietly- first looking towards his right, through fallen hair, to the lit back door of Bruxton’s (which wasn’t too terribly far off,) making sure that no one was within earshot.

“Eliza, “ He spoke firmly, directly…and completely quietly, “I am the same thing that is after you…I am no different.”

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“If I knew where to begin this with you, I would’ve some time ago…but I don’t and… I still can’t. I’m not sure how to. But Eliza,” he looked up and to me, reaching his left arm up slowly as if not to scare me and touching my shoulder- which was against the brick behind us as well as my head, “I’ve asked you a thousand times to trust me. You’re going to die if you do this alone…If someone has to protect you…it needs to be me. I don’t know why this is happening. But I have every intention of keeping you from it.”

I was quickly learning of my ability to foreshadow. Despite the fear that cocked its mane in my stomach, the pain that ebbed at the scrape that had found my scalp, the rage that tore at my throat with Riley holding my shoulder, I knew. I knew he wasn’t lying. And I knew it wasn’t him to blame.

The paper around us rustled strangely then. I jolted, my left hand finding his chest immediately as my head turned to the right…where the sound seemed to be coming from- the darkness of the alley keeping any and all from being seen…and the papers rustled again.

“You…are…” It was there. The voice that had nearly ruptured my ear drum was calling out again- Riley’s head turning with mine and his grip tightening on my shoulder…his right hand, which had once held my wrist- smoothed its hold into my other and his eyes narrowed, trying to see. He was hunched now, still tangled in me but tighter and more defensive.

“Stay completely still,” He whispered, never once looking at me…never once looking anywhere but to the darkness that said nothing and everything at once- the sound having died to a terrifying silence. His mouth curled slightly and his jaw tightened…I had trained myself to pay close attention to every move the boy made…and his right shoulder, which was now closest to me, rolled back.

I breathed quickly, afraid to move, too afraid to keep still as my body rattled and Riley, despite his defensive stance and availability for apparent battle, soothed a thumb over where my hand grasped tightly to his now. He had nearly attacked me only moments ago- and my fingers were wrapped so tightly around the boy’s knuckles that I wouldn’t have been too terribly shocked had his whole hand cracked into two. But he soothed my shaking as best he could- the slightest movement of a thumb over my own…without so much as looking at me.

There was sound. A step, the wavering hiss of either breath or fabric moving in front of us. Papers stopped moving- a strange wind seemed to slide down my spine and Riley tightened with nearly a hiss, his mouth rolling back and his teeth gritted- eyes narrowed as his brow furrowed sharply…cat like and strangely ready.

“You are it.”

The voice, having whispered pieces of this sentence- and now the words in their entirety- erupted fully with the power of a train next to my eardrums. My head fell forward, Riley having heard it as well this time as he fought to stay forward and poised, while I groaned quickly and fell towards him in pain. It was unspeakable…fear tangled with deafening screams that were nothing more than a three syllable whisper. Riley contorting slightly, moaning lowly beneath his voice as suddenly his heels slid back and he was losing his grip on me. I heard the scrape…that sound that emulated concrete and salt grinding against one another- and as my wild eyes looked his way did I see his head lull back and his teeth extend once more…his trying to fight it blown to nothing but a dream.

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 00:02:54 GMT

I knew he didn't want me to take him...to drive him. I knew he needed to be alone- and so I gathered my hands at my chest and let my head cant curiously. And he left me in the warmer light of my living room completely alone.

_____________________

Time passed and the hours wore on as they would…leaving me to worry for him. He had taken whatever it was inside of me out with a breath and I couldn’t help but feel as though he was simply lost somewhere, taking on the demon that had my heart in his mouth or hand or claw…

I had laid down without thought of actual sleep- watching the wavering curtain of an open window before my eyes were closed and I was in a dreamless sleep. I was exhausted with worry, premonition maybe, pure concern for where Riley was…and what it was that he was up against…that we were up against.

It was then that I felt a hand on my brow. My eyes opened slowly, despite the fear that struck itself deep into my chest as colder fingers went from my forehead through my hair and away with a silent breath. A broken voice, did I whisper out, “Riley?” And he said nothing at first…I could feel his trembling. “Riley…?” It was cause enough for my movement…I sat up slowly with help of my hands, my lips tight and my eyes blurry. I couldn’t see- the sallow light of the streetlamp pouring in. I knew it was him. He exhaled sharply…I could nearly hear the grit of his teeth, taken back by something as he slowly stepped back from me…but I caught his hand just in time, despite my slow reflexes.

“What’s wrong?” I croaked out in a shattered voice…and I could hear his mouth open, his attempt at speech ending with only silence- and he stepped towards me at my command (having his hand still) and simply sank slowly to his knees. I was frightened and I simply didn’t know what to do besides accept him…neither of us had any place to go- and so I released his arm and placed a hand on his shoulder, which fell towards me- and the other through his hair- Riley laying his head silently on my lap, my legs falling limply from the edge of the bed’s side. He wrapped his arms about my calves, my legs left squeezed together- and he breathed erratically. I could only look down to him a moment, my hand moving slowly through his rain dampened hair…it must’ve rained while I was asleep…was it sweat? His breathing pointed to the idea that he was ill…that he had been running…that something that happened. In the quiet spill of light over our silhouettes- I watched the brush of his eyelashes- his eyes wide open and vacant towards the window…he blinked suddenly, repeatedly- his mouth tightening and his throat rattled with movement. He was swallowing hard. I was unsure that he was alright…and truly growing afraid- but I fought every inclination, every membrane of a thought that sorted things out…remaining placid for the most part- tepid in reaction…

…he never said a word.

It could’ve been minutes or hours that passed where we stayed like this; Riley kneeled and holding to my legs, his head to my lap- my trying to support him with a careful brush of fingers over his brow and through his hair- the other quiet and still against his shoulder, whose trembling dulled and faded after a time, before I moved- Riley picking his head, heavy, up…and I sank beside him on the floor- only to put my arm around his shoulders- and look him in the eye. He avoided me at every cost. Something had happened…and he didn’t want to say a word. So I simply used my free hand to undo the first few buttons of his shirt. He turned to me a moment, caught off guard, and I was nothing but maternal. I, for once, would take care of him without asking permission firstly. However, I didn’t want to frighten him away…so I moved slowly, ensuring with movement that I had nothing sinister in mind- as his shoulders rolled back with my arm sliding away, turning my body to face him as closely as possible- and he let me continue, where I untucked his shirt and undid the rest- sliding it away from his shoulders…and letting it rest in a heap on the floor. He was just as I had seen earlier that evening in my head…painfully thin and carved from glass…damp with sweat and never a sign of warmth- and I took him by the forearms…and began rising to my feet cautiously. He was still spellbound, it seemed, his eyes simply on my face, his brow furrowed. The boy was nothing more than baffled. I simply stayed silent- pulling myself into bed and onto the opposite side…where Riley followed, laying on his side and facing me. I would not remain. As he laid down, I pulled the blankets down- and moved to stand on the opposite side…tucking him in, while he watched me still, his brow furrowing farther.

“Sleep here…just for a while,” was all I would say, whispering sweetly as I sat on the bed’s edge and swept a hand over his brow, down his throat and to his shoulder with dragging fingers…simply. He said nothing, remaining perfectly still and obeying my request.

I was with him until he was asleep.

_____________________

I left him and let my confusion take me. I wasn’t sure what had happened-- why he had come to me this way-- what it was he meant by falling to my lap and holding to me as though I was his confessional. I raised a hand and let it rest at the back of my throat- pulling myself from the room once he was silent and sleeping away from the doorway and leaving it cracked…moving into the colder living room. The couch would keep me tonight. Grabbing the throw…I simply curled myself up into safety and looked to the wall…watching the night and the hours pass…more sallow light, more emptiness from an unusually silent night…until my eyes were heavy and I was asleep again.

_____________________

I’m unsure to this day how long it was that I actually slept. Perhaps hours…maybe only a moment or two. But, in the muted light of a quiet living room, would my ears be alive suddenly, the almost non existent sound of breath pulling me from a thoughtless slumber- refusing the last facet of rationality I had left in me for a second of shut eye…only to be yanked back. Someone was with me. My eyes opened slowly, although my senses were quick- my first target of focus the grain of upholstery, as I had apparently (perhaps to stay safe) turned away from the rest of the world for a solitary corner of the couch and the darkness it held- tucked in the cushions. I was unafraid at this point, where my body shifted and my knees turned, my body pulled up with a painful looking arch of the spine- my face kept away by a curtain of hair, while I drew myself to sitting on my knees and looked over my shoulder.

Even in my sleep, in his exhaustion, would Riley watch over me.

In one of the adjacent chairs did the boy sleep soundlessly, wrapped like a child in the comforter from my bed, shirtless and shoeless, his head cocked slightly and against the wing back of the chair he called his own, his arms folded in front of him and beneath the blanket…his face doll-like and still, completely at peace. I didn’t know what do with myself immediately, lay back down or remain without a stitch of motion…in fear of waking him. I simply watched him, with my head turned awkwardly over my shoulder, on my knees on this couch and with my hands in front of me, before I slid quietly to facing him, letting my legs drop before me with blanket half on my body and half lost on the trip over, unable to take my eyes off of the strangely peaceful sight of a man that, only hours before, had dropped to his knees at my feet and begged, silently, for a moment of quiet. It was fascinating, the change…and so I simply watched him, waiting for some sign of wake- the quiet rush of his breath enough to lull me back to sleep- while my eyes fought for another glance. I don’t remember falling the way that I was…with my head on the couch’s arm…my body tucked in front of me, the blanket once again around me and keeping me safe from the world (if I was to face it, then I must certainly have my armor) and I don’t remember falling asleep- but I woke only because a hand went through my hair, which was a mess- and my eyes opened slowly to see him standing, dressed immaculately- once again in a state of complete perfection…and I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“Good morning, Eliza… let me at least move you to your bed?” It was as if nothing in the world had happened. He had never come to me in the night…I had never risen to find him by my side, watching me in his sleep- I had fallen asleep on the couch. For a second I believed it…and then I sat up.

“How are you, Riley? I was worried about you.”

He canted his head slightly, never once losing his cool, “Worried? Why ever?”

“You were here…last night. You came to me last night, Riley.”

He frowned slightly, making me feel horrible for bringing the situation up…if even for a moment. He stepped back from me in my immediacy, the sun pouring in from the glass window. My eyes were on fire and I could only see his silhouette, the slight slouch of such an faultless frame. It was a second of silence, an eternity of thought…where our minds whirled in different circles around each other and I waited, awkwardly for a response. I would receive only this;

“Everything will be alright, Eliza. You needn’t worry about a thing.”

It was maddening. Everything about the boy was maddening. His appearance…the way he satiated my every stitch of loneliness by just a hand through my hair whilst I slept, looking up through tired eyes at a dream made real. His attitude… a careless cool, waiting only for a moment of anonymity to become vulnerable- and dismiss the thought later. He wasn’t human. This man wasn’t real.

“But…” I looked to him, my own head canting sharply before the thought of how god awful I must appear to him, sleep worn and dirty, got the best of me and I cowered inwardly, lowering my head to shake it with a sigh. I could see out of the corner of my eye the change in his disposition…Riley didn’t like to put me through this, obviously…so why did he continue to do so?

“I’m…going to go…and get ready for work.” Did I even work today? Riley nodded…pulling himself from where he stood with a hand leaving his pocket to fumble through his hair with a sigh that I don’t suspect he knew that I heard, turning for the door.

“You can stay if you’d like.” I was on my feet with my back to him by this point, careful not to look too conspicuous. I needed him here. I just hoped to God that he wouldn’t know it.

“I‘m not sure…” I wasn’t sure whether he was agreeing or not, the lilt of his voice wavering from disappointment to curiosity and back to nothingness in the time of a single breath. I looked over my shoulder cautiously, through nearly matted hair and a loose collar to a sweater that once had shape- waiting for a complete sentence to respond to. I would receive only a raising of his eyes- with a slight narrowing, which in turn singled out only a pensive breath in him before his fell back to his usual placid, calm demeanor…and with a solemn grin, he nodded. “Alright.”

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 00:02:23 GMT

"Eliza! Dammit...Eliza! Look at me!" I couldn't. It was impossible. The color was draining quickly from my body...my breath null, my cheek was against his sleeve and my arms were limp...my whole body focusing on the fist that had my heart inside...tighter...tighter...

"Eliza! You have to fucking look at me! It's not real, what's inside of you...it's not really there!"
My mouth went agape as I tried to call for him- to scream of the impossibilities of my so much as moving...and he released me to arms length- looking left and then right with wild intent, his teeth gritting as his eyes narrowed and his panic was finding him, before he canted his head and slammed his mouth against mine. A kiss it wasn‘t by any means. He opened my vacant mouth with his own- his tongue ensuring that I didn‘t move a slight, and my eyes were quickly fading, as he inhaled sharply. The first sight I could focus on was the tight closing of his eyes, the furrow of his brow as though unspeakable pain had found him- a groan…and he inhaled again. It was then that the hand around my heart was gone. It had been lifted from me. He stumbled back slightly as his mouth fell from mine. He groaned again, softer this time…his grip losing me a moment as I was slowly regaining consciousness. His left foot slid back slightly to support both his weight and my own…and he exhaled harshly, slowly. And it was though nothing had happened. I didn't need to collapse onto him. He pulled me close- pushing my head to his chest and supporting my spine. He was swallowing me from the immediacy of what had happened...and before I knew it- I was holding onto him for dear life. Fistfuls of his shirt, arms so tight I could feel his blood move and mine do the same between us- and I shook violently.
"It's alright...you see? You're alright with me," he cooed, still shaken, his head lowering so that his words fell against my hair with breeze like delicacy...and my eyes remained open- wide...seeing part of his sleeve...and the still wavering curtain to our left...Riley delivering a spoken lullaby to my nightmarish encounter...but it fell on empty ears. We were truly in danger...and it was something I had never known. There wasn't much I could do...I simply remained where he had left me...caught in his grasp as his words faded to nothing more than breath, careless means of protection that at any other time would've been savored...but for the moment- I was lost to the world. I finally whispered,

"Was it you?" I wasn't sure that he even heard me as he stood perfectly still for a time, my eyes still caught on the curtain's dance- before I felt the air rush into where his head once lay- and he leaned his head slightly while I remained placed against him, Riley moving a hand through my hair quietly.

"No... was that what you saw? Was it me that hurt you?"

"Yes."

"They've touched you. It could've been on the street...it might have been some random passing...but one of them has touched you...and now they've got your thoughts." Once again his hand went through my hair...a silent breath that spilled over me, before his cheek found the top of my head. "This will be over soon."

And my senses, having halfway returned me, allowed me the strength to break from the boy and his embrace, backing from him slowly with my fingers holding over my mouth (where he had been moments before) and I turned. I stumbled over the kicked chair...grabbed my coat from the dresser corner where it was perpetually kept- and made my way into the living room.

"Eliza...it's not safe to go out there right now...you're not in your right mind yet," I heard from the bedroom- and I said nothing. Riley's response would come with a slamming of the front door.

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I walked endlessly. Hours and hours it seemed. There were times in my life where I wanted to be followed, I wanted to be kept safe, I wanted someone to look after me as I walked along the sidewalk, vacant and naive. But this wasn't one of them. This wasn't a moment in my life where I needed some sort of stronger hand against my own. There was something truly wrong...purely terrifying. I was so very simple...and what seemed like seconds ago- the rare complexities that existed inside of me were suddenly huge and alive, twisting and churning. I still felt the remnants of that gruesome sensation. The pop of my nerves and muscles...like a processed meat at that hand slipping through and holding onto me. My skin gave way like paper. I didn't know what to do with myself. My head was suddenly spinning. I felt nauseous.

And then it started to rain.

I walked along 89th Avenue for only seconds longer before I was beneath the awning of a random jewelry store, my shoulder blades against cold concrete and my hands wrapped about myself- I sank down, knees bent and the balls of my feet keeping myself steady, and only barely, as I simply allowed myself a moment to breathe...which only set my body to sinking farther, as my knees hit wet pavement, my hands smacked second- and I turned my head...vomiting. Only once, thank god. And then I began to cry....maybe the confusion left me enough to allow my body to focus solely on the fear. I'm not very sure. But I simply stood, pulled myself into the rain- and walked along the road, this perpetual rhythm of wet footsteps and random sobs, a shaky fist trying to keep my tears away- warm against the cold fall of rain. My eyes burned...my hair stuck to me as did my clothes- and as I turned my ears to the empty streets- I knew he was there.

"Eliza," soothing and as quietly poised as ever...I turned to him a wreck. Mascara, eye makeup, whatever else streaming down my face in torrents- my hair painted across pallid cheeks and my coat hanging like an animal's wet pelt, my shoulders shook and I sniffled at him, my eyes angry, the rest of me pleading as my mouth, crooked, quivered. He stepped forward with a black umbrella, relieving himself the shelter from the rain- to try and give me a moment of warmth- and I backed away, never looking from him, my mouth tightening slightly and the rest of me drawing close to myself. I thought I was going to be sick again.

"Eliza, please. It's freezing...you'll catch cold. Just come with me. I'll take you back to your place," and he stepped forward again, relentless in his efforts, offering me a hand and the umbrella, the wilder tresses of dark hair against the pallor of his face falling along his temples, haphazard across his brow, which furrowed on my behalf as he reached farther for me, "Please?"

"I...don't," I could feel my voice quiver, nearly giving out on me. Was I to give him yet another display of dramatics? I was ashamed of myself-- and thus croaked out, "'I don't know what to do, Riley." And the first audible sob left me. "I'm frightened. This is frightening."

His next step was smooth and long, carried on thin and powerful legs. He simply came at me before I could think, the tail of a longer, black coat catching the air a moment, despite the rain- and just as the umbrella hit the pavement did he put his arms around me, still relatively dry against my soaked exterior. His face dipped and I felt his cheek against my head - his arms about me, his hands pressed against my spine- and I was left against him. My cheek to his lapel, (as he towered over me) my hands raising slowly and holding to him loosely, almost casually- as he hid my face from the rain and said nothing...my eyes on the rolling umbrella that would move just slightly as the wind blew, the crack of thunder sounding over us, washing sound into our ears and over our meeting. I didn't make another sound. He released my back only to take hold of my face, his thumbs at my temples, spread to allow my ears- and his fingers touching at my hairline down to my throat and he pressed a cold mouth against my forehead...and I swear I felt a breath of warmth, enough to cause the shivering to stifle for a moment.

"You're so very precious. I swear to you that you'll be safe. I'm going to protect you...." And his voice lowered, as I felt his words on my brow- before he looked down to me, now just as soaked as I, a quiet whisper, "Believe me. Please believe me."

I looked at him a moment, my eyes cast upward due to his height, unblinking against the rain that he sheltered me from with his own presence, and I said nothing, only quietly, slowly, laying my head against his lapel once more- holding to its edge with a tightened hand...and for a moment the world was silent. He remained there...his hands falling limp- and he standing in a slight slouch as I held to him- looking out into the darkness of the opposite street side, and I could feel his hands tighten, loosen, his muscles grow tense and soft again as he breathed...before he let his arms to the base of my spine to hold me close to him just for a second, and he said simply, "I'll take you home."

And he did, picking up his umbrella and covering me, sliding an arm around my shoulders as I shook and he was as graceful as always...winding across a veritable war of nature and city- finally to the warmth of the indoors, passing the familiar creak of the first set of stairs and into my lonely apartment.

_____________________

I don't remember a lot of details about the rest of the evening. We stepped in and he peeled, firstly, my coat from my shoulders- and then his own...disappearing to do something with them as I wandered into my bedroom with empty eyes, relieving myself of my wet clothes to sit naked against my sheets for a second. My whole body was tight. I ended up dressed again- and in the living room...where Riley was still without a bit of cold to him, sopping wet and simply looking into the kitchen with pensive eyes, the crease of his mouth symbolizing his perpetual ability to think deeply.

"You must be freezing, " I said with a cautious air, moving silently to lean against the hallway corridor- crossing my arms and holding to my elbows, wet hair brushed away, my face clean, my hands fumbling through the still dry towel in my hands. He looked over his shoulder and to me, painfully solemn, another perpetual trait it seemed as of late, and he shrugged. I could see the movement of his back, muscle against wet, dark fabric...and his mouth tightened.

"No. I'm fine, Eliza. Thank you."

"Riley...you'll be the one to catch cold. At least let me get you a blanket...or we could drive to your house...I could make us something warm to eat," And he simply shook his head, his eyes still empty as he smiled just slightly- and I watched the water drop roll from his hair line, over the sharp hill of his cheek bone- and down to his jaw line...falling somewhere.

"That's alright."

I simply looked to him. There was no way that he was alright that way, soaked like I was only a little while ago, obviously freezing, yet he watched me like an adoring animal with narrowed, pensive eyes over a quiet, slight grin. A sigh left me, and without permission that I was looking to secure, I moved away from my corridor- towards him with my eyes failing me and falling to the floor as the towel in my hands was lengthened- and I moved around to be in front of him, never once looking up, my hands raised- and I laid the thing over his shoulders...raising to the balls of my feet at his height, and I let my hands run down the length of his sleeves, drenched, to take his hands.

"You're freezing, Riley," I said quietly, a curious air to add to the silence of a content room- and he was watching me vacantly. I could feel it. And in my smaller, warm hands were his own, trying to share a bit of the heat in me without looking anywhere but his knuckles, the sinew of his hands as they moved slightly- never wrapping about my own, twitching slightly at the feeling. I pushed one of his hands over my heart, his palm laying flat so he could feel it. I was terrified of course, and the falter of my mouth, the shattered breath at what may happen found no reason for being...as he was simply still. I took his other hand and laid it against my cheek, supported by my own pressure. He was limp otherwise and I closed my eyes, my brow creasing, "You're so cold."

He said nothing to me. He didn't move an inch as I kept his hands placed against the heat of me, my eyes closed, trying to figure out why he was so dreadfully cold. He was never warm except in my dreams it seemed... but why? This was beyond a weathered chill. It was as if everything inside of him held nothing but air...that he was no more than a shell. And he breathed, finally. I could hear him breathe- a sigh.

"Eliza..." He tightened slightly, moving slightly towards me...not even a step, the push of a movement in its beginning but never followed through as I heard his tongue move in his mouth, the liquid of his insides churn just so. His saying my name sounded like a whispered plea to stop touching him...but I kept my eyes closed and I didn't move a single inch.

"Maybe...maybe you're right. I need to change...to..." And he swallowed, quietly. His hands slipped away from my grasp and he turned from me quickly, tugging through his still haphazard hair and he muttered, moving for the door, "I need to eat."

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 00:01:43 GMT

I simply sighed. I wanted to fall into him. It was frightening, truly. Maybe the immediate reaction, my not knowing the severity of it at that moment, was a bit blown out of proportion. Maybe- by some strange chance- I knew inside of me just how awful things were destined to be. Right then however, I was simply lost in my own rage. Pride is such an awful thing, you know. I didn't move much...perhaps a breath or two as his hand remained on my shoulder and I was looking downward and to his throat...and he was still fixated on my now hot face- so much so that I could feel it, and I swallowed hard- and with only a slight of bravery...rolled my shoulder away from him and stood up correctly- pulling myself away from his immediate presence and his scent (something I'll never forget) and I cleared my throat- looking towards the still agape window and the paler curtain that danced along to our play rehearsal in jest...letting the cooler lap of a chilly, crisp afternoon spill over us-- and I sighed.

"Go...sit outside of the room for a moment, please? Fix yourself a drink- a bite to eat...anything at all. But I need to get dressed," and I looked up and to him again. Carefully. "I need a moment to myself."

He obliged without an argument, raising himself quietly from his lean on my tousled bed- and moving himself to the doorway. I was never once at ease, really, as when he passed he brushed me with the fine threading of his sleeve...looking solemnly over a long shoulder and to me through deeper eyes that I refused to see. Riley played a very good game.

_____________________

Shedding my clothes on the cold, tile floor was always the most dreaded part of the morning...the exuberance of the day would come to me only hours after this moment...and today was no exception...despite everything that had happened while I ranted in my underwear. I looked to myself in the mirror- pushed back a ridiculously unkempt strand and for a moment, felt like myself again...felt as though I was enough...before the situation I was tossed into swam back behind my eyes and I was suddenly very plain and very...adequate. I released the notion (ignored it in reality) through a breath and leaned over- away from the mirror- to turn the water on. Once inside- I felt close to tears with the slow, ebbing realization at what was at hand.
_____________________

So the day wore on, basically. Riley came and went as if the house was his own...and I didn't mind, honestly. It was far too quiet for myself alone. And it was the last thing I wanted. Incomprehensible was the notion of what was going on...and as the hours passed, I realized that it wasn't my being rejected that had torn me up inside. It was fear. I still had no comprehension as to what was going on...this situation that landed in my lap and remained with me, despite every attempt to get rid of it, that my living arrangements had to be changed...my every move followed and my eyes continuously open. Or was it all a game? Was it a cruel joke from a man that had nothing better to do with his time? I was sitting at my desk, in the room that I found him in hours earlier, that I heard the door open, light and sound pour in, and the brighter, pale eyes of Riley wind their way to me.
"How are you?"

"Fine, I suppose." It wasn't true. "You?"

"I'm alright. May I?" And I nodded, the lithe frame of the boy slipping into the dusk colored room, solely by window light, and the electricity of the living room shut away with an almost inaudible sound as he moved into my cave. A sigh left the lips I was still thinking of, and I heard him sit behind me and on the bed. I was sitting motionless...looking down only to my hands before my senses deceived me and I looked up and to him through the mirror. He didn't catch my glance at first- looking to his left, the pale curtain of an open window swinging to and from him, much like my admiration, before he blinked- and looked over. I caught it all. I wasn't really aware of the push I gave to the hair that swung to my throat, the weaker grin I gave him before I returned to my nothing...but I did catch the breath that left him...I could still feel his eyes on me. I don't really know how it happened, his movement, but soon I felt a hand through my hair...trailing down until I could feel his fingertips along the back of my throat- down to my collar, and over my shirt...feeling down, only slightly, to my spine. His other had crossed me, a smooth hand lain beneath my collar and to my shoulder- a hot hand against tepid skin...and I hardly knew it was him. I watched him, curiously, for a time, as he looked down to me and his molding of me, solemnly before his own thoughts took him and he leaned down, knees bending and hands falling away from me to grasp at my chin, wrench my head towards him and our mouths (once again) collided. He breathed into me this time, the audible crash of one mouth to the other, one tongue around its match. He dove into me- his hand releasing my chin to hold to the chair for support, the other clawing over my belly- carrying my shirt with it until his fingers touched skin and I shivered. I wanted him again. He breathed life into the grave dug in me for his presence. And this time I wasn't letting him go. I swung my legs around until his once belly laden hand was on my hip and I was out of my chair...and I was falling forward- with his hands on my waist, bringing me clawing down until my knees were on either side of his ribcage and I was contorted along the sharp ridges of his body, straddling him like I knew how- and never once did our mouths fall away from each other. He tore at me- first grabbing at my forearms to toss my arms away- and second at my shirt- pulling it away from me- leaving him for only a moment as my sweater was gone and the cold air from an open window hit me...his mouth never finding mine as I begged for him- his lips attached to my collar- leaving his mark in my left ragged flesh. He could've torn into me and I would've yelled for more. His left hand held to the back of my throat for leverage, his right hand slipped beneath the finer covering of a paler bra- my skin alive and on fire- as he made sure that every part of me, pink and soft, was hard for him. And I would assure the same as I ground my hips into the growing swell that forced its way toward us both. I wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste the salt, the fire in him...and it was all I needed to live for. I felt the tug at my hair then...where my head wrenched back and my mouth smeared away and his mouth, his gloriously moved tongue, devoured every crevice of my throat. I said something lude, I suppose, perhaps I admitted how badly I wanted him inside of me- as he let out a quick breath and held onto me tighter- his mouth pushing harder on my throat and my throat alone as my head was guided back, almost painfully so and he shook just slightly...a sign of vulnerability that I wanted to swallow immediately. He was the most precious damned diamond I had ever found. My legs wound around him until my ankles hit their match and I was pulling at the buttons to his shirt with my own shaking hands until I felt the first sign of his teeth scraping at my neck. I lurched slightly- this slightly pained, extremely pleasured mix...and that very motion made his head snap up...wide eyed and looking right at me...the color finding his cheeks just so...where we just looked at each other for a moment, my eyes widened at the sudden stop. He pushed me back then, shoving my shoulders until I was falling- and he was catching my legs so that he landed between them...a huff leaving me as I hit the carpet. Fight fire with fire, the vixen in me whispered to the both of us, presumably, as my arms finally had the strength to wrap over him, hitting the chair on one side of me (although I never felt it) and finally, I had his shirt completely undone...and for the first time, I would see him. I would feel him. He let go of me only a moment as his arms tossed themselves back and he was as naked as I. Beautifully so...painfully thin and etched out into glass. I could've died again. But the beast would most certainly find the best of him as he almost growled, pouring sound and vibration over my mouth once again as he breathed out- his teeth gritting a moment, nearly catching my lips with it, and he caught my wrists and pinned me down against the carpet- raising himself slightly over me with a twist of his back and the contour of his stomach. He looked down to me wildly, breathing heavily- spread as I writhed beneath him.

"I ... could hurt you..." He hissed carelessly- never once looking away. It didn't sound like Riley. It didn't feel like Riley in the slightest. I attempted to raise against him- to find that god forsaken mouth again...but he simply pushed me back to the carpet -- only to let go of my left arm- to let still cool fingers slide down the length of my nearly extended arm...to my face, where his thumb ran over my mouth, still pouring hot breath, before the trek he made down my extremely berated throat...over my collar with aching precision and over the swell of my left breast...never stopping too long, never moving too fast...until he was just below my heart. I looked solely into his face...never once allowing myself a moment of quiet pleasure- before he smiled, sweetly, and I felt the pop of my skin- the wrenching slide of his fingers between my ribs- tearing away at veins and nerves and muscle as though they were wet clay- and he wrapped his whole hand around my heart. His fingers tightened around the already wild beat of a quickly fading muscle...and I fought and I contorted...

And finally I screamed.

And he heard it. Jumping up from the bed he was sitting on, I released the most heartbreaking, real sound of terror I could produce- my hand smacking over my heart and holding viciously to the sweater that I still wore- raising violently as the chair fell back- blocking Riley in his immediacy from saving me...my eyes not able to produce tears and my mouth falling slightly agape- that went along nicely to the entirety of my body that was shaking.

It was almost simultaneous, his becoming aware of what had happened...and I couldn't fight, truly. I had witnessed my life being torn from me. And then I had woken up. He kicked the chair aside- and, with harsh means of quick saving, grabbed at my shoulder until my body spun and I smacked against him, trembling and still releasing hoarse, empty cries...I could feel it. I could feel that hand inside of me and around my heart- squeezing it. I wanted to choke- I wanted to run...and I could do nothing as he shook me, yelling my name.

Sun, 08 Aug 2004 23:59:54 GMT

"Good play. All right. As long as you're not hungry or anything...we could see your house? Or mine?" And with complete sincerity his head lowered as to be closer to me- and his voice dropped safely while I watched, being the enthralled child, "However...I want you to tell me if this makes you uncomfortable. I want nothing less than to jeopardize my credibility as a confidante to you. I know you can't trust me this early on...but I do wish you'd try."

"Women take strange men into their arms every night hoping for something without strings...and the same for the boys, Riley. I think you and I sharing conversation with a roof one of us knows well is just risky enough, yes?"

And I had no idea where that came from...and neither did he apparently, as he simply nodded- impressed once more with the 'good girl' glow in his eyes, staying still a moment to let a hummed laugh leave him. Perhaps I had done well tonight.

It was then that we set to walking. I wasn't really sure where exactly we were going- as I was still collecting myself from any second outburst of my true identity and my true intentions with Riley...how it wasn't only the 'roof' I was interested in devouring crudely. My demons were beginning to manifest themselves into some horrible beast that I, the slayer, was having a god awful time holding back...and it was slowly becoming impossible to think of anything else. It had been a long time since I had savored the touch of someone else. And I now knew it. And so we continued on...the war waging in my head and behind my eyes...where I watched the fog and crooked streetlight ahead of me...the autumn mist nothing less than spectacular...and allowed myself a moment of complete abandon for anything else as my steps slowed to meet his and I leaned towards him slightly- allowing the brush of one coat clad arm to the next, fingers pulling back the curtain of hair that hid my cheek as I turned my sights towards him, a crooked grin following.

"I really enjoy our time together, Riley. I don't think I've told you that...it was a strange meeting- but a fascinating one, you know. You truly are responsible for making my countless trips home fully interesting. I feel like the new girl in town or something."

We walked in silence, uncomfortably on my part, for a moment...as he watched me with a curiously brighter grin before responding,

"You're too kind, Eliza. Perhaps I'd be more at ease if I had ever worked in this fashion before...it's truly a new breath for the both of us- and one that I fully enjoy as well."

I simply smiled...keeping my sights to him and letting him lead us where he'd like. I didn't care, at this point, if I ended up in a ditch face down and without my lungs. I had, once again, found Euphoria at the mouth of Riley, but this time around...something pulled at my insides. I could feel it- a hand telling me to keep my wits...telling me to find the earth once again. I knew it was there...I just didn't know why.

_____________________

We found my house. Unbelievably, if anything, because I was sure that we had passed it and were trekking towards the coast in the length of time it took us to get there...but slowly- the first set of stairs, outdoor, were climbed...and the familiar creaking of worn and weathered wood found my ears and my body breathed a sigh...this meant that our safe keeping in the slow touch of fog was lost to the indoors...it was almost saddening. I reached into my bag, hanging properly over my left shoulder as he stepped back, watching me nonchalantly (the tease) and the door opened silently to the quiet indoors of a modest, but well kept apartment. I made sure to only turn on the lights hat I knew I looked best in...something warm, comforting- and Riley found himself in with a slope of the shoulders- pulling himself into a comfortable, beautiful slouch at my door. I could not believe it was true.

"I'm surprised."

I turned to face him completely- letting my keys to the counter top with another cant of the head, force of habit really, and my brow creased.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"I simply saw you as being warmer than this...I didn't see you as a minimalist, Eliza. Quite a talent for hiding yourself from me. This is a lovely place you've got."

I was utterly baffled.

"Thank you. I'll get you a drink. Anything in particular you 'd like?"

"Nothing really...whatever you're having will suit me just fine."

And so I nodded calmly, turning from him as I heard the door close and I moved into the kitchen's entryway- affording myself a glance back for no other reason other than to watch him without notice, something I hadn't been able to do much, as he wove into my...minimalist's...living room. It was then that it hit me...Jesus Christ...did I have anything worth serving? I clamored towards the refrigerator on steps that sounded as nothing more than a secret and prayed to the heavens that... yes, there it was, I had wine. Thank you. A Chardonnay....something sweeter would've served me better- but perhaps I'd give off a touch of class...and he would love me forever.

And so I returned, two glasses in hand, matching flukes even, and sat down on the couch.

"I supposed that, with you and I talking over alcohol at every other occasion- I had better not break the tradition. The world may stop spinning, I think."

He smiled, a hummed laugh kept silent mostly...and found his way opposite me (the tease!) sitting back with a sigh onto my cat's recliner...thankfully she was sleeping somewhere for the time being- and I needn't explain to her my company. She hadn't seen a pair of masculine legs in quite some time. I leaned back- draining my glass slightly...looking towards the hallway that lead to my bedroom before rolling my shoulders back. When I turned back to him- he had risen slightly- leaning closer to me...the coffee table keeping us apart, of course- but an intimate position none the less. I was shocked, really- and a quicker series of blinks found me, my glass lowering from my mouth.

"What of your love life, Eliza?"
I thought at that very moment I would break into sobs. This was impossible. And so he leaned back. I looked down to the rim of my glass- my finger winding the curve of the tepid edge as I spoke.

"I haven't time for anything like that. I'm immersed in what I do...I suppose I live by this psuedo philosophy that should it want, love will find me."

It was then that he rose. Perhaps he saw the complete break in my sordid, plain exterior. With glass in hand and a roll of the shoulders- he wound the edge of the glass table that separated us and sat beside me. Never too close. I was comfortable once again.

"Is that so? I'd imagine a good dose of romance would put a lovely glow to your cheeks, yes?"

I did everything I could to stay completely porcelain like...a doll. Even the slightest furrow in my brow would tell my secrets. "I'll just have to do with what I've got until then, I suppose." Please, boy. Touch me...or go away.

And he heard me. I'll swear to this day that he did- fingers- cold, I thought, from the contents of the glass- found the base of my throat- taking a careless tress and setting it with its peace...finding the line of my collar until my coat refused to let him see anything else. I was left motionless- my eyes closing and my face faltering. This angel had touched me...and I was heartbroken by the remembrance of what never left me. And so my brow furrowed.

"I'd imagine, Eliza," said with a smoother set of tones that warmed up my colder veins, "that whoever he was...he was very unlucky."

He knew what he was doing, and my head nearly flung his way...brow creased tightly- eyes narrowed curiously, and left with hair splattered across my jaw. I suppose that I thought, by some strange chance, I'd scare him away by the blatant release of his finding the wrong notion about yours truly. It didn't work. Not even for a moment.

"I...no...it..."

And he simply shook his head, grinning as if I had told them the weather was nice today- and he let his free hand raise- catching his temple as he leaned on the back of the couch, turning to face me entirely with leg raised...ankle crossed over his thigh- before leaning and letting his glass, still full, to the table. He was far too smooth. Cold fingers returned to me, finding my chin this time- only slightly...and releasing the caught strands of suddenly unruly hair...his index finger catching my mouth for a flash. It was then that my senses returned and my guard was slowly dropping- and I was very delirious...deliciously so, really...and I suddenly felt as though things would go my way. It was just as surprising to me, I warn you, as I have never before and never again reacted this way...it was simply gut reaction- and I listened to my senses- leaning towards him slightly as my features returned to their placid state for a moment, before grinning abashedly. "Maybe he was unlucky."

He had no idea.

" I believe it..." And there was silence for a time. Riley still pondering over the make of my throat- as a stronger finger pulled at the collar of my coat...and his eyes wandered from me to the glass door before us- sallow streetlamps abroad and eerie...I was caught once again- knowing the outside light well enough to rely on the creation that lay before me...before he whispered- not even looking my way, pensive and reserved, "There's something between us, Eliza." And he turned to me- his free hand, having once cradled his head, now pushing him forward as he found me, idly wandering fingers around my throat having caught my head quietly- to keep me from melting...just as I had pictured it. Just as I knew it.... "You must be careful of me."

So his mouth found mine. Unlike anything else I had ever felt before- the quiet- almost timid raise of his mouth to mine where his lips parted only enough to keep mine from spilling away and never returning...as they had found their wings...and his eyes closed- mine following only for the sake that the room was spinning- and my hand had found his sleeve and was holding to his forearm slightly, for fear that he might break…or I might float away. I couldn't help but let my head cant...my mouth spilling soundless remarks of his being impeccable...catching his lips, my wings, deeper before his words sank in... and the pull at my insides had returned. I took a breath- demon and angel fighting inside of me as whether or not to break away from my bliss- or to remain tucked inside of his mouth forever- safe from the world...and "being careful." I couldn't help but listen to myself...she and I were best friends, my instincts- and mother always said...

"Careful of you?" was all I could manage to whisper- having let my mouth stray from his own only to speak, my very words felt along his mouth as I refused to let touch leave me- breath fleeing from me for a kiss of his skin as well, never to be left out- as he looked very forlorn, miserable even for a moment- but blissfully so- breathing in the presence of me...and he said nothing. And I knew he was begging for me...I simply didn't know what he was begging for more of. "I know nothing about you, Riley..." I was simply sighing into him- letting him borrow my breath, "Only that you've found me...and that I want nothing more than to keep you." And I found him this time- my mouth forgetting speech for a full proof method as I tucked his response, should there be any, between the firm hold of my lips- simple in design but dedicated in their movement, before his mouth broke away only to paint down the cant of my chin onto my jaw- my head falling back nearly without control. Never was there even the slightest touch of warmth in his movements, only pure passion in his every breath- the very hiss of sound that kept me to him- as I felt his mouth along my throat, the right shoulder of my coat having fallen away- and Riley had my hand.

"You've had too much to drink."

And I was suddenly out cold.

_____________________

I can remember waking slowly once, throughout the night...in the comfort of my own room, in my own bed and perfectly well kept- but terrified for reasons I did not know and did not understand. I simply deemed it a strange dream...and laid back down- staring out the window to the auburn night...before falling to sleep once more. Little did I know that Riley was to my left- watching me.

The next morning was when it hit me...it was colder than it had been to date- and the city was loud midafternoon...midafternoon! The thud of my body's weight, lead by my feet was not a pretty sound...careless blabbering of my body parts to and from one side of the room to the next. I had missed work- I had missed any appointments...and most importantly in my mind- it blew every chance I had of finding Riley- spending a third day with him. It was heartbreaking the faith I put into my time schedule.

And then I stopped. Completely.

"What the hell?" My window was open and I was in my best slip...the one I had worn beneath my clothing just the day before. I hadn't washed my face before going to bed- I hadn't brushed my teeth- my hair was back...and I was thoroughly baffled. Because I truly couldn't remember a thing. It was if someone had stepped into my body and moved about with complete freedom, having painted the town the brightest red for all I know. I was jealous of where my hands had been.

And my window was still open. A cold hiss rippled through the blinds and struck me with the force of a cold lap of the tongue...it was deadening. I gave my eyes a slow blink...a careless cant of the head. My teeth grit and my jaw tightened, my lips following with the tightest seal I could muster...

I could see his shoulder. From the fire escape that was certainly not sturdy enough for anyone's presence, tucked away from sight mostly by the narrow lining of the window's keep lay the still pressed shoulder of Riley- left for my sight on purpose, I'm sure...and I was horrified. And nearly naked.

"Hh..." was all I could truly muster- with careless abandon for what was going on- only that I needed to get away- or that I was seeing things or something had happened...but I was horrified.

I turned on my heel- my hip hitting the sharp corner of the dresser to my right- everything atop rattling like an alarm in my cage- and I was fleeing. I never heard a sound other than my own voice...when he caught me by the arm without a sound. This touch- that I longed for since our initial meeting was suddenly violent and wrong and I felt nothing but pain from the flesh of my arm twist with my own struggling- his fingers like cold steel...and it was then that my eyes simply spilled tears and I could nothing but let them fall- an angry sob as I tried to cry out- left hoarse by my inward war game.

"Eliza...stop. Stop it. Stop struggling please. I wouldn't hurt you. Eliza..." He was monotonous, never conscious of his own sound, really...and I didn't listen to him.

"Eliza!"

My name shot forcefully into my own ears and I whimpered, falling limply towards him by the pull of his grasp around my bicep- and I was all but sobbing- expecting to be used as a spread legged outlet- left for dead and never the same...or maybe he'd kill me.

"Fuck...oh god..." I remembering 'pleading'... unable to do much else as his grip loosened only to hold me by the strength of, we'll say, three men as opposed to thirteen- where he pushed me around to face him and took hold of my other arm- my shoulders rattling with fear and the rest of me following in sync. I lost the ability to fight at all...shattered inside as he lowered his face towards mine with the precision that had happened only the day before and was, at one time, a fond memory...and spoke quietly, trying to change my mind.

"You have to listen to me..., Eliza...and then I'll let you go. ...just a moment of your time…and I won't touch you again."

I hissed back, trying to wrench my shoulders from his grasp which ended up as nothing more than a howl from my lungs at the near rip of my flesh... he had sworn never to touch me again. And I believed it. So I slackened- doing all I knew to do-- which was plead with him with reddened, tear filled eyes and a tight mouth...my face splattered- my entire being a mess...and left with still a deeper cut into my heart. Lust could still kill you, I knew. And I said nothing, only looked to him with the most broken face that, judging by his reaction, he had ever seen. He was completely shocked- any color from the pallor of his face left entirely and his face faltered truly to fear for a moment- before he swallowed and cleared his throat...carrying on with the intonation that incipiently caught me by the mouth like some sort of stupid trout...and I hated myself for being such an easy catch. Nevertheless, he simply lead me back, my feet tripping over each other and only held up by his support until we found my bed- and I was sat down, jostled back (softly, really) and Riley stood before me at the finish line. I knew what was coming- and my body started shaking uncontrollably again. He simply kneeled in front of me- his grip having softened to a mere touch that slid down the length of my arms and to my wrists- my hands tight and balled- ready to swing.

"You'll never forgive me and that’s your choice…but you must believe what I’m telling you. This is truly important."

My knees moved slowly so that I could feel the indention of each kneecap over the other...keeping perfectly still as I watched his left eye- which never once looked away- brilliant in its color...and he truly looked frightened of me. I said nothing.

"There is a game being played. And you're involved. Meaning that you are at risk of something deadly."

My hands tightened further until I could feel my own blood move.

"I've known about this situation from the first day we met...it's why we met. As long as you're with me...nothing will happen. No harm will come to you- and truly...should you send me away this very moment you may be alright...I can't guarantee anything. I can't make any promises that would be true. You and I are involved together...a package deal...so should one of us leave the other I don't know what would happen.”

I was lost in my own thought for the most part...lost in some sick sense of reverie...my heart was shattered, truly now that I knew our meeting and his finding interest in me was nothing more than a scandal to keep me from being involved in this 'game' he rattled on about...and I was also in between finding hope for my selfish, selfish self in his wanting to keep me safe. Momentarily however, I was contemplating which window to jump out of. I needed to say something. I needed to say something! "You…what's happened? How are you here?"

It was now his turn to look entirely mystified but he smiled coolly- let his hands fold over my own as though he were my childhood physician, stark and without warmth and responded with a quiet, "You'll know everything as time passes, Eliza. Just don't send me away."

And I wouldn't send him away. I simply released my hands from his smooth hold and let my face be hidden- and I sighed. I was a child with a price on my head and nothing more and I was scared for little more than my pride. As my shoulders hurled themselves forward like an avalanche down the pale mountain of my connected collar- I could feel the hair on my neck slide away- leaving me vulnerable if anything as the rest of me followed my now reserved, now quiet cries from a thin framed body that refused to hold this weight. I heard the hiss of his arm as he moved to sit beside me- the bed stirring with his added weight and I did nothing but keep myself from leaning towards him which, in retrospect, I'm sure he wanted but I moved none and wanted no one- a cold palm wrapped itself about the round of my shoulder and a breath left his nostrils with forever persuasive sound.

"Eliza. Truly…"

"…"

"And it will be over. I will make things right again. It was only a matter of circumstance…you were chosen at random…an arbitrary face in the crowd they picked."

"Shut up. Please."

"…"

And I looked over to him finally, letting my hands fall- intense eyes that I owned were truly out to tell a story that I still don't know that he could see and I whispered, "Just be quiet a moment. You don't need to say anything else. Just let me think." I was trying to tell him that he was killing me with his talk of my being so very plain, so very random that I was no longer anything special. And then I remembered our kiss. It happened to me so quickly, the electrical surge of this dream and its current back to my brain that I could hardly do anything but let myself gasp, at Riley and my fingers, full in their trembling touched over my suddenly dirty mouth. He had kissed me. Had I kissed him?

"Why can't I remember?"

And he never once faltered. "Just trust me in the fact...that I'm here only for your well being- there is nothing more. I made a mistake. It shouldn't have happened and... I truly apologize.

So that was it. My memory- my late night habit of dreams that surely pointed to the idea that Riley and I were meant to embrace...souls to twine...whatever....was nothing more than a complete hoax, leaving me the whorish child that knew nothing of true intentions. I, apparently, had a very one track mind. He saw the shattered breath that left my lungs in the place of the scream that I had wanted to let loose...he noticed the downward fall of my shoulders- the falter of my eyes to a silk clad set of thighs that were suddenly dirty and unfit for company...and I could only hear him breathe. I could only hear him say, with complete sincerity that made me want to rip out his tonsils-

"I'm sorry, Eliza. I had no right to so much as touch you."

"You're right....Riley. And I hate you for it. You've twisted every part of me- and I bent for you." And I looked up and to him. "Why the hell should I believe something so completely ridiculous...what kind of game is this that would put an 'arbitrary face' a random 'girl from the crowd' at risk? Some sort of frat party initiation that you missed in college? Who can score first?"

"Eliza..."

"No! No, you'll listen to me now...you come into my home- you...I don't know what happened...but whatever happened happened and then you're at my window when I wake up- and HOW you stood out there on a fire escape that has long since become useless and decrepit I do not know...and then you've got me by the arm telling me that if I send you off on your merry way that I'm destined to die?! Maybe you just like to fuck with my goddamn head, huh?! Or my goddamn..." And I stopped. I had, once my blow out started, pulled myself to standing and was nearly hovering over him with my teeth clenched and the rest of my body tight- between his legs while he looked on without compassion- only curious to the fact that I was nearly on top of him- with a hand pointed menacingly his way...hunched forward like some sort of cat ready to pounce...and very hurt. His head canted, Riley left with his hands behind him and his body leaned away- nearly to his elbows on the bed, his shirt untucked and his mouth twisted into a disappointed frown...his legs spread comfortably- before he sat up and brought himself closer to me still- (to which I immediately pulled back...but only slightly) and his right hand swam through the air in a straight shot of complete fluidity to push the thin strap of a thinner slip back onto my shoulder. The feeling was both unnerving and unwarming at once...the smooth brush of his fingertips finding my hot skin- pushing the thing back onto my shoulder- crossing my collar bone as his expression faltered none...and he was still apparently moved by my speech.

"I'll take care of you, Eliza...that's all I can tell you."

Sun, 08 Aug 2004 23:59:19 GMT

It was then that he touched me, this insidious beast hidden in a man's skin, crossing the street from one slice of pavement to the next-bony fingers felt briefly against my spine as he helped me...like any gentleman would do. It truly meant nothing. But I felt everything...and I wanted him so badly I could taste it. I didn't dare look at him for fear of what I may do, making sure to broadcast only a completely vacant look of both discontent and mistrust -- but he knew me better. Another touch and I had continued on straight into the alley-forgetting the left turn, the fumble for my keys, the shaky banister that I knew so well, the salvation that was so close. I had suddenly forgotten the colder afternoon, the hiss of people. I wanted nothing more than to be followed. And he did just that -- silently -- ever aware. When I reached the end, the last line to cross, the final breath of sanity, I simply turned to face him, letting the roar of older papers, wretched water and already recycled trash drown out the pleading scream of my every nerve as I continued, sinking into a brick laden corner, making sure that I crossed no line alone-- I had his coat's lapel by my trembling thumb and index finger- securing the kill.

He never once looked away.

The bleeding hurt in his eyes remained placid and ungiving. He simply sank into me like death itself -- this crushing weight of both man and his baggage into the safe sound of my shoulders scraping along the wall, the hiss of my arms raising-the slow exhale-the pop of my mouth's keep. I wanted to swallow him then, keep him secure and tucked away inside the heat of my belly only until his head canted...my mind losing its ability to function, (dream and desire, fear and loathing aside) his breath left him and his chin jerked...our dance began.

He was wild on the inside, ready to tear me apart with the sweeter morsel that took my very mouth by storm-easing its way to strangle my own. A professional predator. However...there would be a fight. I don't remember how my hands found their placement-but it was what I needed most...gripping tightly at both the collar of his shirt and a straightened tress of his hair, far too dark for anything pure. He, on the other hand, was scraping for freedom against the wall behind me, while his other hand pushed against my shoulder, finally finding the base of my throat and the pulse he wanted so badly. And he would have it-as he pushed a suddenly iron leg between my own-shoving his hips against the lower plane of my belly, deciding inwardly, I'm sure, just how he would take me. His mouth, against my own, spoke soundless words of his aching need to stop-and the demon that refused to die while my own devoured every nonexistent syllable, swearing to make it worth his while. And in the breath of an instant, he would be convinced.

The most beautiful sound left him then, reminiscent of an animal's dying call, muffled into the jealous mess of my hair -- this soft wall between us. I was hushed of course-one could never expect a man of such elegance to go calling into the night like a newborn child but the sound itself left every part of me alive and on fire-his mouth leaving mine and the singular brush of both sound and taste hitting the corner of my mouth, the raise of my cheek and finally kissing my earlobe before my senses could catch onto the ride. Little did I care of the pain that came from him, this pain that I did not know, never once did I connect the spectacular, single sound and the erogenous torture that I, a simple girl, was putting him through simply by being in his presence.
I was selfish.
I was wrong.
His weight against mine was incredible -- one of the few times that I felt or would ever feel safe around him, his left hand holding my head in place for fear that I would melt, I'm sure, and keeping me the direct target of his senses...while his other hand continued to claw for freedom into the wall behind us...one could've sworn he had talons. And that was the last conscious sound I heard.

Things began to blur.

My last facet of sanity, my final hope-the only grip of a hero for this princess was lost in the overwhelming connection of trying fingers and careless brick. I was simply praying that I made it out of this one alive.

And I was only sitting across him.

I never heard the question-something about the weather, I'm sure, but whatever it was...I suddenly wanted to split it into pieces and watch it die as it, small as it may have been, took me from my daydream-and I was back on that uncomfortable chair in this uncomfortable room that wasn't my own...and he was sitting to my right-remaining perfectly still. And what a masterpiece as I could almost hear the sinew of his knuckles twist over bone and nerve, his hands folding together over his lap...my eyes wondering idly everywhere but where they wanted most...before he spoke again.

"You're quiet tonight. Is something wrong?"

I thought a moment, taking a breath through thin lips as my eyes narrowed for pure sake of appearance...letting him know that I was thinking.

"No. I don't believe so. Maybe the cold is getting to me. The weather's so off and on, you know..." And I babbled on some more, quietly-fading to nothing as his mouth twisted into a painful smile-this statue across from me nothing more than a figment of my imagination at times...and when I had him a moment from my grasp- I could do nothing but watch...and whisper to myself. So I sank back into the chair, letting my throat extend and my eyes close-my body lengthen-hoping he would read into me. He never did. I knew our meetings well by this point. I was never sure what he wanted-what to give-what to take. Only that I made good company. I was simply a tick on his watch. Something to look at while the seconds rolled by and how badly, since I took him into my mind, did I wish to feel beautiful...perhaps then I would've been a formidable enemy. For the time being, a...

"Let me get you a drink. You want something?" ...would have to do.

"You've asked me twice now. I'll have to talk to the Gods or something about this weather that's got your head."

And he moved, taking with him his grace and my breath, leaning back into his seat with a sigh and a grin that was completely painted on thin canvas. The most invigorating part about my guest, whose name I did not know...who I truly knew nothing of more than a wry explanation for his companionship and his humor, was his mystery. The lack of boys inside of him-the lack of a story -- of a past. He was vacant. A shell. And if ever there existed a need inside of me to save something-it was this thorn. This creature that fit the black he wore and the length he possessed and the mouth he spoke from. He was all I wanted to keep.

"Please do. It's very frustrating...being unable to stay on task. But third time's a charm. I'll buy you a drink...and you can sit and let it waste, yes?"
Anything to make me move. He nodded quickly- a darker tress, kept wild and strangely undone atop an immaculate exterior, dancing over a suddenly furrowed brow-as I winked (unjustly) his way and rose.

"I know it's strange for you ... my coming here. I wish that, without any sort of discomfort, I could explain. It's simply so hard to find good company, you see. I assure you that there's no horrible alternative should you say no to meeting with me again."

He had no idea.

And so he went on. "I find it extremely interesting the way you work, you know. How-in all of our meetings...five has it been? You've been so very open and shut with me at the same time. You work differently than I'd ever dreamed. I have a feeling you're keeping me close for a reason. And not anything less than completely covert. Such a fascinating creature you are, Eliza."

And that, his naming the exact opposite of my every conscious query, was what kept me from doing anything but what he told me to. To meet with him, publicly as not to alarm me in the slightest, and simply exchange stories. I had never so much as touched him-and I was so baffled as to whether or not he wanted anything at all that I was simply spellbound-mind tucked-into doing as he said...and spending money on drinks he never touched. So I simply smiled, dismissing the idea that he was in fact tossing a compliment my way (which would of course fuel the fire even further) and turned on pained ankles towards the bar...to fetch our salvation to his cutting me open and watching my insides spill. I think he may like torture.

_____________________

Hours passed, I'm sure...where we chatted endlessly and I made myself sound like something I truly wasn't. It's funny in retrospect. With each new face- each new opportunity, you truly have the ability to make yourself something new and brilliant and unheard of...completely remarkable with only the blink of an eye. And it seemed that every time I gave it my best shot...he ran me into the dirt without so much as a thought...finding the most precious parts of myself, down to the single hair follicle, without a struggle- without the war. Perhaps I was the more violent one. And then we said our goodbyes...rather suddenly, the hours having apparently worn on until there was nothing more than a scraping heel against concrete- we were widening the gap between us on the foggy canvas of Central Avenue. Like every night, he was gone. And I knew not to look back. This one played a better game than ever I'd dreamed...taking my eyes in his hands and rolling them like die on the table of my belly- playing cards with my insides and Risk with my mind. I had to know his name.

I had to know his name.

And so, the next day- and wearing pencil lines across my body as a target practice special, I walked down and away from work... an office building that was too large and I was a secretary too small (minded and bodied) to think of anything more than a menial position under the big boys. It too was safe...and I needed safety. It paid the rent. It was recently, though, that a fire had sparked in me and weary feet (from the usual latté fetching) were quicker and more daring- stepping by people instead of completely letting their 'window shopping speed' keep me from my business- or my meetings. And then there was the right turn onto Central, off of Seventh, that left me completely exhilarated as if I had run a comfortable mile and I knew my body loved me for it. My eyes were aglow, I was sure...and everyday I waited for a join of footsteps. The days that I found my apartment alone were torturous...but every so often...He would find me. An alley was suddenly sweeter smelling and warm in its shadows and unthreatening- and he was to my left. He was on my favorite side. And today, thankfully, was the solidification of my remembrance- as the sun was going down and beside me was the lengthy treasure that was my new found friend- with a hand resting idly through his hair, the other lain completely still in his pocket as he strode with me...my eyes completely caught once more. Like die. The game begins.

"Hello, Eliza. It's good to see you. Perhaps I'll find your company tonight again? I simply didn't get enough of you yesterday."

I thought he had shoved the most beautiful dagger in the world right through my heart at that very moment. I had found eternity.

"I'd love to. And...hello..." I froze for a second inwardly, keeping with his pace now as my grin faded slightly...I could feel my world begin to crumble right before my very thoughts. "You know? I don't know your name. It just hit me that I don't even know your name. How strange." The most insidiously fake laugh left me and I didn't even know it. My chances were ruined. I was so lost in myself I didn't even see where I was going, really...and decided it best that, for a time, I allowed myself a bit of spontaneity. He watched me-the smooth cheer of my prize draining quietly into a thoughtless delirium...and all the more beautiful as his mouth tightened slightly and his steps slowed so that he and I were left strolling in the night.

"That is strange." And then he stopped completely-turning on a thick heel to face me, a pale streetlight catching the delicious line of his jaw as I turned to catch him- my hands burning for movement but remaining still-my head canting curiously. And then, like that, it was over...

"Riley, Eliza. That's my name. I'm sorry I've been so rude as to forget such a thing. I thought, by some chance, you'd have known by now."

Riley. It fit him perfectly. I had never heard it before...it would've sounded strange, misplaced, on anyone else...but no other name could possibly have done him justice. This one simply tried the hardest.

"Riley. That's a nice name." I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, I tell you...scream it, moan it, whisper the two syllables into the night. I was truly a beast.

"Thank you. Where would you like to go tonight?"

And with a burst of completely absurd pride I chanted, "We'll play by your rules tonight. You simply must decide."

With the smooth glow returning, his brow raised and he nodded as though I had been a good girl and his hands twisted in his pockets-black. Marvelous.