Tarantino's Son

Mikhail

That night I couldn't sleep, my mind a pandemonium of restless thoughts that threatened to tear me apart as I listened to the soft rhythm of Caine's snoring. I snuggled against him nestling in the crook of his arm that was wound around my uninjured shoulder.

At three, when I felt I could no longer lie collectedly across the sheets, I sat up gingerly removing Caine's arms across my shoulders as he groaned turning over in his sleep. Pulling the white sheepskin throw strewn across the bed, I draped it over my shoulders and walked towards the open window. Sitting down in the chair, I pulled a Marlboro out of my jeans, still unwashed and dotted with specks of my blood, and lit up. Below us, the streets were loud and anarchic, filled with eleventh hour bar hoppers, laughing merchants, and heavily muscled capos in gaudy decked out Lincolns lining each and every street corner.

Bringing the cigarette to my lips, I inhaled letting the smoke linger upon my lips as I laid back against the wall, letting yesterday's tension leave my body. The smoke curled acridly against my lip, as I blew out slowly letting the smoke carry out into the open air, blowing down into the streets far below. Curious, I dangled my arm out the open window, letting the breeze prickle the small hairs of my exposed skin.

Raucous techno music flooded up from the club on the street corner of 34th, and from the bed I heard Caine toss in his sleep. Blinking I peered at his sleeping form in the darkness, my eyes lingering upon the wild bed head that obscured his eyes as he clutched his pillow possessively in his slumber.

A smile upon my lips, I turned back to the window, my eyes dropping to the streets below as a large crowd of young college club goers giggled drunkenly, ducking into the pub opposite to the apartment.

Listening to their laughter, jealousy came in red torrents stringing across my limbs and netting my figure in waves of fire that laced up and down my muscular thighs.

I envied them, I thought as I bit down hard upon the Marlboro between my teeth. I envied their laughter, their sense of innocence that clung to their drunken figures as they laughed, thick bouts of liquor clouding their minds. They had their futures-something to live for, whether it be money, drink, or their rather tipsy acquaintances they were not alone. I bit down harder upon the Marlboro, tasting ash upon my lips. I had nothing to live for-no vehement plans for the future nor college though despite my abundant mound of funds. For companionship, I had Caine and Dante, though I only saw him a couple times in a month if I made the trip up to the compound-but other than those two, I was frankly quite pathetic.

I fingered the white paper of the cigarette, letting it graze my olive tanned knuckles as I took another drag. Without thought, I began pulling on my boots that resided in the corner of the room. Tying up the laces, I reached for my black leather jacket and pulled my good arm through it. Gingerly cradling my sore shoulder, I slowly pulled it through the arm hole. Pushing myself up off the love seat, I tiptoed to the door, my eyes cautious as I tried not to disturb Caine as he now lay like a pancake, his boorish snores shaking apart the room. I struggled to contain my laughter, as I clutched the doorknob and with one final glance, shut the door behind me.

In the streets, I pulled my black hood over my eyes, letting it slightly obscure my eyes as I blended into the street crowd anonymously. Far in front of me, I could see the college crowd I had seen from my window, now clutching giant mugs of beer, still laughing much to my disgust. Skillfully working my way through the crowd, I came up only a few feet away from them, doubling back in revulsion as the smell of vomit tainted the air. Raising my cigarette, now smouldering in my hand, untouched I brought the stub to my lips, observing their conversation.

My eyes settled in on the blonde with scalding sideburns and an analogous white ironed uniform absurdly complete with matching pastel Mary Janes and a white slingback. Her hair was tied back tightly against her skull and she clutched the arm of a grey eyed boy wearing almost an identical uniform to hers, except with black trousers. Her crimson lips formed into a giggle as she smacked him but relented as he leaned in for a kiss. I grimaced, turning away from them as I took another drag.

In another life, I could have been them. . Perhaps I could have been happy, free

. . with sneaking kisses with hot seniors being my only worry. .

Yet in the blink of an eye, the life I could have had, had been shattered.. and I left to pick up the pieces.

Throwing my cigarette onto the ground, I let it smoulder watching the darkened embers grow faint as I stubbed it with the point of my boot. Looking up, I saw the college students, now only blocks away in front of a callused tapas bar with sliver awnings. I ignored them as I turned left, my hood still drawn into a narrow alley. Plunging into the back pockets of my jeans, I felt around for another cigarette, careful to keep my eye out for snatchers. I swear, I had one in my back pocket, yet just as I looked up; I saw that the alley had opened up.

The street was silent and dark with few lamplights. I stopped, taking account of my surroundings, feeling the frame of my tanto folding knife in my boot for reassurance. Satisfied, I continued walking unsure if this would take me back to Caine's apartment. Yet just as I made two blocks, I heard music; their loud voices overtaking the night. Peering ahead, I saw a bar only a couple yards away, hidden in the shadows of a looming metallic sky rise. Walking quickly, I stepped through the entrance, my eyes planted upon the bar. I needed a drink.

The bartender was a tall man with hints of stubble that lined his sinister lips and a haggardness that christened his deep set cheekbones. For him, it had been a long night. I ordered a bourbon. With his back turned, I threw back my hood letting my long black hair fall back against the nape of my neck. Out of the corner, I heard a throat clear.

Whipping my head around, I come face to face with a pair of deep dark emerald embers firmly imposed upon mine. My eyes fall to his lips, only shades darker than red wine tinged with cinnamon, and I have a sudden uncontrollable to press them tight to my own. I barely notice as the bartender plunks the glass of bourbon in front of me, my eyes never leaving his. As seconds pass by, I shakily break eye contact grasping my drink between my trembling fingers. I sneak a glance back at him, trying to see if he has also been affected and he too is rather stoically embracing his drink. I resist the sudden uncontrollable urge to run my hands through his wild black hair, planting kisses up and down his neck. I mentally shush myself, trying to control the tension threatening to overwhelm me. I take a gulp of my drink, letting the lucid liquid overpower my tension, as I lean back in the bar seat.

I feel his eyes upon me, gently looming up and down my body, taking in my scuffed boots and black hoodie.

"I don't think we've been introduced." His voice is husky and deep, like black velvet, I think as I ignore the control his voice has upon my body. I bite back a sigh, and slowly sidle in the bar chair, turning towards him. My eyes rest coolly upon his.

"Lana."

He grins cockily, stirring up all kinds of trouble in my stomach.

"Mikhail."

**

His lips slam down hard upon mine, as my hands tangle in wild crevasses of his hair, as he presses me against the bathroom wall. I push him back, moulding into his body as I urgently undo the small buttons of his shirt, letting my hands wander. His hands grasp my hips, pulling me closer to him as he lifts me higher and higher up onto the sink as I straddle his hips. Involuntarily I let out a moan, as his lips dip low into the hollow of my neck leaving hot trails of kisses up and down my bare skin. Flames lick at my skin, and I can no longer breath, as I lean back consumed in trails of fire.

"Come home with me." He whispers huskily, softly nipping at my lip..