Page 2 of Downfall

She gasps as I push her face first into the wall. Taking charge, yanking her dress higher till it’s right up over her hips.

She’s wearing a thong. Her perfect peachy round little ass is there just waiting to be touched. I run my hand over it and she freezes. Her whole body freezes.

“Do you want to stop?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No.” It comes out more like a gasp.

I let out a low breath, that’s both the answer I wanted and not at all. I wanted her to end this. To tell me this was a joke that got out of hand because now that I have her, now that she’s more real than ever, I don’t want to let her go. Not ever.

She pushes back into me just a little. Just enough to show she’s into this. “Touch me. Do your worst.”

I grin. My worst? That’s how she wants to play this? Fine, I’m all game for that.

I tilt my head, snaking my hand around and into her underwear, cupping her. She’s wet. Soaked. The little Capulet Princess is dripping just for me.

As my fingers start to explore, she whimpers enough that she feels more like my prey than ever. And Christ do I want to devour her. I want to devour every inch of her. But not just once. Not just this time in a dark alley. I want to possess her in a way I’ve never needed to possess a woman before.

“I’m going to ruin you.” I mutter. I don’t think she hears. I don’t really care if she does. I will ruin her, I will ruin her for everyone else but me. She’s going to be mine now, forever. In this moment I know it, I feel it.

Rose Capulet will be bound to me.

Our souls will be damned together.

She starts writhing, her body riding my fingers as I start to thrust more. It feels like she wants this as much as me.

She lets out a moan and I snarl back. We feel like two lost people, two lost souls who’ve finally found our reason for existence.

I yank her head around enough to make eye contact and she half glares at me.

I don’t say it out loud but I think it.

And deep down I know it’s true; she’s mine now.

And I’m never letting her go.

* * *

Six Years Later

The bar is full.More full than I would like. Not that it matters.

But still.

I glance around from what would normally be a piss poor seating choice almost entirely obscured in the corner, except tonight I don’t want to be seen. I don’t want to be observed. I take another sip of my scotch, looking nonchalant, though I’m anything but. The pistol is tucked against my side. Concealed. With the silencer already in place.

I haven’t been in this city, in my home, in over six years. Six god damn years. It doesn’t feel like anything has changed, even the faces look the same. Perhaps no one noticed my absence. Perhaps no one cared.

I feel a flash of fury at that. That I was forced into exile, forced to hide, and to all these people it meant nothing. My sacrifice was nothing.

My hand tightens around the glass and I force myself to be calm. I am back. I have returned and this entire city shall feel the consequences.

And then I see her. Even from this distance, with her back to me, I still recognise her. Though her perfume may have changed I know the scent of her soul. The colours of her heart. Two men are escorting her but I pay them no heed.

She walks up, takes a seat, and orders a drink. Vodka tonic. Just like she used to drink.

At least somethings don’t change.

Only the things that matter.

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