THE UNEXPECTED KILLER [G!P]

Chapter 63

Becky's pov.

"Rebecca."

For the first time, Freen Chankimha's voice didn't hold the insight of a predator. It was vulnerable.

I wanted to give in, but there were other things that were doing circles in my mind.

"How?" I whispered.

Freen furrowed her brows ever so softly, looking down at me, merely inches away from me.

"How did you know....about my...." I paused, inhaling a large gasp of air, "Mother."

It took everything I had in me to say that word. But I did.

Freen peered at me.

"Questions, always asking questions. One question leads to another, then another leads to another." Her voice held amusement, quite contrary to her eyes. Her face divulged absolutely nothing. Always calm and composed. But Freen's eyes were a complete different story.

They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. All I saw when I looked into her eyes, was fire, fire meant to burn everything down.

Freen leaned into me a bit more, only this time I didn't flinch.

"You know Rebecca, the last two months you have asked me all kinds of intrusive, nosy questions..." she teased. "...Except what went through my mind when I killed those girls. What I felt later. Did I feel any form of guilt or not. You've never asked me any one of those questions. Why?"

I shook my head lightly, "Because you aren't yourself when you kill Freen. There is no way that you can kno...."

"What if I tell you I am? What if it's a lie you've been living in all this while?"

Maybe it was our proximity that had muddled my thoughts, but I couldn't quite comprehend the true intensity of Freen's words. I couldn't think straight.

"Did you feel any guilt?" My voice was a mere shaky whisper.

Freen peered straight into my eyes.

"No."

One word. One syllable. Yet it was more than enough to turn my world upside down. I jerked to get away, when a pair of muscular hands entrapped me in between.

"I don't feel guilt, I don't feel remorse, I don't feel pain, no happiness, nothing." Freen elucidated.

My heart drummed hard and fast against her hold, threatening to crack at my ribs.

Freen wet her lip, tongue gliding across the smooth surface.

"But I'm feeling this."

With that, whatever trifling space that was once held between us, was enclosed by her lips crashing into mine. It didn't register into my mind at first. But once, twice, thrice, it occurred to me. Freen Chankimha was kissing me.

Her hands moved from the door to my face, cupping it as her inexorable lips parted my trembling ones. Freen Chankimha was kissing me.

A cold blooded murderer. A person who tried to kill me three days ago, was kissing me. My brain screamed at me for me to push Freen away, run away from there and never return.

I stood motionless as Freen deepened the gradation of the kiss. I felt a rush, a surge of warmth in my body that left me staggered. I felt something spread all across my body like wildfire. Maybe it was, in fact, fire.

An ecstasy-like whirl was tilting my world 23.5 degrees, and before I knew it, my eyes were shut close and I was kissing her back. I was kissing Freen Chankimha.

My arms, went from staying limp against my sides, to clutching Freen's chest like no tomorrow as I kissed her back feverishly. Her lips were sending down the wildest tremors down my body, transporting me into another realm.

The feeling of her lips on mine made me feel things I didn't know I could feel.

I could feel her chest heave in an effort to regulate her breathing, I could feel the outline of her lean body as she held me. Her hearts syncopated against mine in an erratic rhythm. Adding more pressure, I whimper as Freen's attentive fingers push further against my waist, her lips crashing down on mine furiously.

But for the first time in forever, I wasn't afraid. I wasn't afraid of the consequences of my actions. I wasn't afraid of touch.

We finally broke away from the fervent kiss, leaving me panting for air.

My eyes met Freen's breathlessly, staring back at me enigmatically before she grabbed my arm and pulls me against her, pressing her lips to mine once again. She consumes me as she walks me back, until I hit the cold wall, her fingers digging deep in my hair.

I gasp against Freen's mouth, which gives her full control to push her tongue past my parted lips and glide across mine. Our heads tilting with each stroke, mouths slanting to deepen the random, completely forbidden kiss in this psychiatric Institution.

Freen Chankimha was the apple of sin, and I, Becky Rebecca Patricia Armstrong had just had a taste.

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A/N: that kiss was electrifying indeed. And not me promoting 23.5, hehehe. Vote? Comment? Follow? See yaa <3