The Ring

007

"S—," breathed Chrissa, "wait, stop."

Chrissa shied away from him and slipped out of his slight embrace. The energy that both she and him created was magnetic, transformative, seductive. There were parts of her that longed for what Michael held inside of him. But she was lost within her own fantasy, high on desire, and suddenly the logistics of reality had clouded her mind. She knew what she felt, but what was the cost of it all?

Sensing the shift, the dark-haired man pulled away from her as caution spread against his chest. Michael looked at her with sudden warmth. "I'm sorry," he admitted, when he moved his hand from hers. The glow of the candles that were married to the walls had reflected over his olive skin.

"W-we mustn't behave this way again," She slid her hand away even further, and turned her head from his gaze. Chrissa chuckled nervously, "This...this is wrong. You're the help." She spoke as if her words were fake, trying to convince herself they were true. She hated what he brought out of her, she hated the things that were developing for him, and she hated that he was socially beneath her.

She then sat up straight. "And I'm about to be married. And that is the way that things should be."

He shook his head, "you can't love him."

Chrissa froze for a bit, and then turned to him. "Things are out of order now, but when we get to the north Stephen shall come to his senses. O-or perhaps we'll talk it out. I just need to get from point A to point B and I can't do that if you flirt with me!"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed,  "you can't be serious right now. He was gonna kill you. You're talking crazy."

"Stephen is all I have!" She blurted out.

Michael pressed his lips together as if she'd slapped him, and nodded.

"He has resources, and assets, and by marrying him it guarantees an alliance with Stonedust and that would make my father very happy," Chrissa snapped, and uncrossed her arms. "So whatever feelings you think you have for me? Blow them away, Michael!"

There was a stillness that had then washed over Michael, and suddenly he grew expressionless, and it seemed as if the blood had drained from his face. Her words had stung him. Like fire burning his insides. "You can't love someone who owns you."

His words punched her. She'd known Stephen since they were children, their marriage was always planned. His very being never resonated with her own, but a part of her felt as if the little boy she'd known from her childhood was still there. Before all of the madness, before all of the power, before all of the chaos and death, Stephen had been hers. He always cheated on her with danger though.

"Y-you don't know what you're talking about," She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Chrissa snorted, "and If anything, I own you," she blurted out stupidly.

Michael clenched his jaw and laughed dryly, "of course you do." He shook his head. The winds from outside had blown out the lights from the candles that lit up the room, and everything melted into darkness. He stood up from sitting beside Chrissa and walked over to the window. The cool air had hit his face as if it were the waves of an ocean.

Her breath got caught in her throat as she suddenly realized what she had said. She closed her eyes, sighed, and opened them back up again.

"Michael, wait." She then sat up from her sitting position and made her way over to him. Guilt washed over her, and her voice was a quiet tone, "I-I didn't really mean that."

There was a beat of silence.

She couldn't bring herself to speak, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't muster up the words. Nothing could describe the realization that she'd had.

"I have a choice in what I do, and you don't. So who's really the one being owned?" He finally said.

"You don't know a thing about me," she responded.

Michael shook his head, his eyes glued to the floor.

"I don't care to find out." he spoke, when he walked past her and towards the door.