The Plus One

Chapter Two

a/n: Hi Guys!

Chapter one has been rewritten almost completely, please take some time to reread chapter one. When I first started writing this story I did not know River and Cecil very well as people, which resulted in a poorly told introduction. In my opinion, their story deserves better than that. Now that I have spent more time with them I feel like I can give their story the intensity it deserves. Releasing my work for the first time has been difficult, but I promise not to rerelease a chapter ever again [in this story]

Anyways, thank you all for bearing with me and continuing to read my work. Without further ado; enjoy!

Chapter Two/ Part One- Chase

Warmth radiated from her body under the blankets and wrapped around him, absolutely saturating his being with her presence. With his eyes still closed, he took a deep breath through his nose, drawing in the floral scent of River's sheets, held it in his lungs to savor it, then slowly released it. The realization that she had come to bed beside him caused his lips to pull up into a cheeky smile, relishing in what he saw as a lack of discipline. He opened his dark eyes to the silhouette of her body tucked in the curve of his own; her lovely round face tilted up towards him, a peaceful smile on her lips as she explored the dreams behind her eyelids. Laying there listening to her soft rhythmic breathing, Cecil explored his own fantasies of pulling her close and stroking her smooth skin. He longed to feel the ebb and flow of her lungs growing more shallow while his fist clenched around her windpi-

Cecil was instantly on his feet stumbling out of the bedroom nook, scrambling through the labyrinth of bookshelves into the main living space. His mind flooded with the metallic scent of blood, blinding him with rage. Early morning sun streamed through the thick lavender curtains giving the living space a warm purple tint. It was just enough light for him to yank something random from his suitcase; he tripped into a pair of jeans and fumbled into a sweater. In a moment of lucidity as he passed the catch-all Cecil snagged the neon pink lanyard on top, and slipped on his wool coat. A rush of sharp wind cut at his exposed skin but he did not notice as he locked the apartment door. It was equally important to lock himself out as it was for him to lock her inside. Snuggled in the large pile of blankets behind those brick walls was a precious masterpiece he truly adored; the privilege of destroying that masterpiece would be reserved for him and him alone.

His feet hit the concrete at a jog, a very quiet part of his mind was aware that he appeared out of place in his formal attire. However, the majority of his thoughts were attempting to thrust him back a decade's worth of hard mental labor. Ten years is just the turn of a page in terms of memory, and stopping the onslaught of images took more restraint than what he had available. Thunderous foot falls filled the streets with echoes as he wound through backstreets and alleyways, as the rapid succession of images poured through his mind.

There were grey t-shirt sheets and warm, soft skin. Her ravenous fingertips grazed the muscles on his chest. Heat filled his veins when he reached down for her, desperately seeking out a source of release. The euphoric feeling of filling her sent endorphins through every inch of him; in that second, all of his control washed away. His hands wrapped around her throat, and he started to squeeze. Feeling her breath catch in her throat sent him into overdrive. Her shockingly emerald green eyes grew wider with panic when she realized he was not going to stop. Her gentle fingertips turned to razor blades against his skin. Slowly, the air in her lungs as her horror struck eyes began to drift close, her hand falling from his chest. Cecil disappeared into pleasure as his grip tightened more, longing to extinguish her life. He clung to her for over four minutes until something else released the pressure inside of him; then, he gradually let go.

    He had already allowed her to fall victim to himself once before, and squeezing the life from her lungs brought him closer to true ecstasy than anything else he had ever experienced. His footfalls hit the cement hard echoing back his desperation; her blood was calling him so loudly he could not drown out the sound. In just one second the entire trajectory of his experiment had almost completely switched; for the first time since he had been rehabilitated, doubt began to seep through the cracks of his mind. There were now plenty of reasons to call it off, to take them both out of the realm of danger; he could return to get his stuff and be gone long before she rose for her day. Even doing that, however, could result in her death.