You Can't Always Get What You Want

Hell

     I met her in a pub. She was sitting at the bar, writing or drawing or something. I was attracted her dark hair and tasteful fashion sense, but all I really wanted was someone to shag that night. She looked like the best and I always wanted the best. She didn't notice me at all as I slipped onto the stool next to hers. Or she was just doing a really good job of ignoring me.
     "Hello," I said, staring at the way her hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall, but made of dark chocolate. I was distracted for only a moment when I realized that she hadn't answered me. With a slight frown, I reached over and tapped her shoulder. She jumped a little in her seat and looked around as if seeing where she was for the first time. Her eyes settled on me and she smiled as she pulled a headphone out of her ear.
     "Sorry," she chuckled, setting her pencil down on her notebook and giving me her full attention, "I didn't hear you." She held up the headphone again and shrugged. I could hear the guitars of whatever she was listening to blaring from the little speaker. It was obscenely loud for headphones.
     I shrugged off the headphones and tried again. "I just said hello. I wanted to know your name."
     When she met my gaze, I could see a glimmer of interest in her green eyes. She tilted her head a little. "I'm Helena, are you British?" I blinked at her question. It was stupid, couldn't she tell that I was British from the accent?
     "No," I commented sarcastically, "I actually just do that accent for giggles." She smiled and looked down at her lap. I could have sworn I saw her face turn red before she looked away, but when she looked up, there was no sign of it.
     "Sorry, that was a dumb question," she giggled. I raised an eyebrow and nodded, still staring at her features. She was much prettier than I'd anticipated from across the room. She was a little pale, but not in a sickly way; it complimented her. I only barely registered her eyes shifting uncomfortably around the room as neither of us spoke. She finally added, "So now that you've got my name, what are you going to do with it?"
     I cleared my throat and looked around the room. Back then, I was more wary about being noticed by strangers. I thought anyone could tell when I used my power. I hadn't learned yet what it looked like from the outside. I hadn't learned yet not to care. I brought my gaze back to her and she smiled at me with that pretty little no-teeth smile she had.
     "Well, Helena," I began.
     "You can just call me Helen," she cut in quickly, "Or Hel, lots of people call me that."
     I frowned. "Don't interrupt me." She smiled apologetically but, as expected, she said nothing else, so I went on. "My name is Kevin Thompson, I'm pleased to meet you."
     Helena giggled again, giving me a real smile with some teeth. I couldn't help but mirror her; it was such a beautiful smile. "You're so proper, it's funny," she snickered, shaking her head but holding out her hand to me, "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Thompson."
     My smile vanished at the sound of that. I could hear my dad's colleges in my head calling him that, and the only image that went along with that sound was the video camera that he and Mum used to make me sit in front of when they ran their tests and experiments. I shook the thought away and blinked myself back into the present.
     "Did I say something wrong?" Helena asked me. I brought my focus back to her. She looked concerned, perhaps having seen the look on my face. I didn't mean to show it. I pushed the memories away and smiled at her again.
     "No, you didn't know," I told her, "I'd rather you call me something else."
     "Like your first name?" she asked. I grimaced at the thought of that too. Mum always used my name whenever she spoke to me. No matter what she was saying, it was very rare that I didn't hear the name she'd given me. I didn't want to go by a name that constantly reminded me of those two shitty parents. Helena raised an eyebrow and, though she was smiling, shook her head. "Maybe not. Something tells me you don't like that either," she chuckled.
     "Well, I was thinking of going by Kilgrave," I said.
     Helena burst out laughing. Her head fell back as she did so and she brought a hand to cover her mouth as if she were yawning. I stared at her, not sure what she was laughing at, but mesmerized by that laugh all the same. That same gorgeous smile-with-teeth was still there when she dropped her hand, but she was still giggling at me.
     "Did you just say Kilgrave?" she laughed. I raised an eyebrow and nodded. She only laughed again, shaking her head. "You couldn't think of anything more sinister?" She paused and, trying to hold in more laughter added, "Or made-up sounding?"
     "What about you?" I defended, motioning to her, "You said to call you Hell!"
     She looked like she couldn't breathe for laughing. I didn't see what was so funny. "I said that's what people call me! I didn't make it up for myself!" I frowned at her laughter, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her to stop. I knew that was all it would take to make her stop, but I was enjoying the sound, oddly enough. She stared at me as she got her laughing under control. "I'll call you that, though, if that's what you really want."
     "It is," I replied simply. She gave me that smile again and shrugged, shaking her head.
     "Can I call you Kil for short?" She asked. I shrugged with a defeated nod.
     "Why not?" I sighed.
Helena laughed. "Alright," she said, "Kil." She chuckled again and shook her head as she closed the notebook that she'd been writing in. "How grave," she mumbled in amusement. I rolled my eyes in amusement at her comment, but I had no way to respond to it otherwise, and my mind had moved on to other pressing matters, like the one in my pants.
     I looked around once more before leaning in toward her a little. She looked back at me as I did this and I said to her, "You want to go home with me." It was a command, not a question, which was why I was so completely baffled by her response.
     "Um, I literally just met you," she stated warily. She looked a little on edge about the idea, but I could hear the slight joking tone in her voice when she added, "You're not going to murder me or anything, are you..Kil?" She had that no-teeth smile again, but I could sense her discomfort.
     Why hadn't she agreed immediately? I told her what she wanted, why didn't she want it too? She hadn't said no, but she had definitely not said yes. I stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly in confusion.
     "You don't understand," I scoffed, "That wasn't a question."
     Helena raised an eyebrow and scoffed as well. "It wasn't? Oh," she sighed in what looked like relief, "Well then you need to work on your observation skills." She paused and thought about it, her face twisting in embarrassment. "Unless I gave you the wrong idea. Maybe I've got to pay better attention to the signals I'm sending. Sorry, maybe it was my fault." She laughed a little and gave me an awkward smile. All I could do was stare at her. All that jabbering she'd just done, and still none of it was a yes. Had I lost my power? No way.
     I turned to the man sitting on the other side of me. I could feel Helena's eyes watching me as I glanced down at the man's drink. "You there," I snapped at the guy. He looked up, glaring at me, but that didn't deter me. "Give me your drink."
     The man immediately slid his drink down the bar to me. He didn't say 'get your own, asshole' or 'fuck off' as he probably would have had anyone else demanded his drink from him. I took the drink and raised it to him in thanks before turning back to Helena. I hadn't lost my power, so what was it? My mind was alive with all sorts of theories as I took a drink and gazed at Helena over the glass.
     I could see her questioning how I'd done that. Part of me wanted to run; I knew people with abilities, like me, were not very well-liked in New York, and I didn't know what she could do to me if I couldn't control her. The other part of me wanted desperately to know why I couldn't control her, and the need to know that information was stronger than the desire to run. I stared at her, trying to figure her out, unaware that she was already piecing together what I could do.
     "You just say the word and people do it?" she asked quietly. I couldn't tell if that tone in her voice was awe or fear. Either way, she had right to feel that way. I shrugged and nodded, finally deciding that I could protect myself if she decided to turn me over to the cops. I could control the cops. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smiled like she was glad.
     I stared at her smile. I wanted it. I wanted her. I wanted to control her. I stared at her until she opened her eyes, breaking the spell. "I can't control you, though," I grumbled, glaring away from her. She pursed her lips, but said nothing. I frowned at her, studying her. She stared back, seemingly unconcerned with my constant gaze. She looked like she was waiting. My eyes swept over her face, then followed her hair over her shoulders and continued past the end of her hair down the plum colored dress she wore. The more I thought about my inability to control this woman, the more aggravated I became. I wanted her. I brought my eyes back up to hers, the windows to the soul. "Why can't I control you?" I growled at her though gritted teeth.
     Her face contorted in confusion and her eyes flitted up to meet mine. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, "You'll have to pronounce your words." I watched her eyes flit back down to stare at..what, my mouth? Was she watching my mouth?
     I opened my mouth and pronounced carefully, "What are you staring at?" My eyes never left hers; I had never noticed before that her eyes shifted at all, but now I could see her watching my words. She met my gaze again as soon as I'd finished speaking.
     "Your face," she responded without missing a beat, "Or did you want me to stare at the bar when I'm speaking to you?" I could hear the defensive tone in her voice, no matter how slight it was. I opened my mouth like I was going to speak again, watching her eyes move back down to wait for whatever I was going to say, but then I closed my mouth and she looked back up at my eyes. She was reading my lips.
     "You can't hear," I deduced. She didn't respond, even though I'd seen her watch my words. She just stared at me with a straight face, as if I'd figured out her most precious secret. Maybe I had. I blinked at her headphones, one hanging from her ear, and the other was resting in her lap, where she'd dropped it earlier. I didn't hear the music now, but I knew I'd heard it when she'd first spoken. There had definitely been something playing. I stared in confusion. "You play music in your headphones even though you're deaf?"
     She rolled her eyes. "You assume too much," she muttered, grabbing her notebook and hopping off the stool. I didn't know what she meant by that. I watched her walk away from me, suddenly furious that she was intent upon constantly keeping some sort of mystery about her. It kept drawing me in, and whether that was her intention or not, it made me want her more.
     Just as she pushed the door open, I bounded off my stool to follow her. I still wanted to control her. And beyond that, I still wanted the shag I'd originally approached her for. She was still the best, and even if she was insistent upon being a mysterious bitch about it, I still wanted the best. I wanted her.
     I followed her down the street. She had put her headphone back in her ear and I vaguely wondered if there was actually music playing or if she just had them for show. I watched her figure navigate the constantly crowded sidewalks of New York. I couldn't help admiring how gracefully she moved. She was thin and tall, like me. She could have been a model in that dress. Purple suited her.
     She led me to an apartment building a few blocks down. She went inside without me and I knew that I'd lose her if she took the lift like most other human beings. I hung around outside for a minute or two and then stepped into the building after her. An old man mopping the floor glanced up at me momentarily, but paid me no mind and returned to his task.
     "You," I barked at him. He looked up again and leaned on his mop handle. "A woman in a purple dress just walked through here," I informed him, assured that he'd already noticed her, "Nod if you saw her." The man nodded. "Good. Now tell me where her apartment is."
     The man looked over at the lift and wheezed, "Fifth floor, third door in on your right as you come out of the elevator." I grimaced at his voice. He sounded like he smoked. The man smirked at me. "You a friend of Ms. Daniels?" he asked.
     I frowned at him. He didn't need to know anything about me.  "Mop the floor, mind your own business, and forget about me," I commanded. The man didn't say anything else. He just went back to mopping the floor like I told him to. I pressed the button for the lift and glanced back over at the man to make sure he didn't look up again.
     When I got up to the fifth floor and stepped off the lift, I counted to doors to my right. Taking long strides down the hall, I stopped in front of the third door. I knocked. If Helena was inside, I couldn't hear her. It occurred to me that she couldn't hear me knocking on her door either. I scowled at the door, trying to figure out how to let her know there was someone out here, when it opened.
     Helena stood in the doorway with a somewhat surprised look on her face. She didn't say anything, only stared. I stared back with a somewhat surprised look on my face. She'd answered. How had she heard the knock if she was deaf? Nothing about this woman made sense. I didn't know what to say.
     "What did you do, follow me home?" she accused. I blinked and stood up a little straighter.
     "You wouldn't come home with me, so I thought I'd come home with you," I answered with a cheeky smile. Helena glared at me for a moment and then scoffed, relenting. She had to admit that it was a clever line. She seemed to like me anyway.
     She leaned on her doorframe. "What do you want?"
     "I want to know what you meant," I grumbled, "And why I can't control you."
     Helena smiled sympathetically and tilted her head. "It really drives you crazy, doesn't it?" she mused. I nodded. She mimicked me and opened her door wider. "Come on in here, I'm not gonna talk in the hall."
     I stepped into her apartment and looked around. It looked incredibly normal for someone who would have trouble hearing things like a doorbell or a smoke detector. It was strange. She closed the door behind me and I could feel her watching me take in the surroundings. She didn't initiate conversation, but I could feel her anxiety.
     I looked over my shoulder at her. She was leaning against her door with her arms crossed, waiting for me to make the first move. "All I wanted in the beginning was a shag," I told her truthfully. She smirked at me and unfolded her arms. She stepped over to me, close, like she was sharing a secret.
     "You were going to mind-control me into that, were you?" she hissed.
     I tilted my head away and rolled my eyes. "When you put it that way, it sounds bad."
     Helena's smirk turned into her no-teeth smile. "Well I guess since you can't control me, you'll have to ask and risk rejection like a normal person." She stepped back when I frowned. I guess I didn't realize how dark I got when she said that. I didn't and still don't like rejection. No is my least favorite word in the world. Hearing her tell me I would have to risk it made me want to control her more. Helena's smile faded a little and she stepped around me.
     "I hate that you're so attractive," she commented, glancing back at me to make sure she could see my response. I turned to look at her and she went on, "If I didn't know that you want so badly to control me, I might've said yes."
     "Does that mean you won't?" I challenged. She smiled again and shook her head.
     "You and I both know you're not here for sex anymore," she said confidently. I opened my mouth to object when she corrected, "Oh, excuse me, not just sex." I smirked and followed her over to where she sat on her couch. I plopped down beside her and turned so that I could face her, pressing my side into the back of the couch.
     "I'm always open to sex if you want it," I told her. She stared at me and smiled a little, but didn't move. I watched her eyes. She looked like she wanted to, but something was stopping her. She looked forward, away from me. Confused, I followed her gaze and, upon seeing nothing but her wall and turned-off telly, returned my attention to her.
     "I liked you, Kil," she sighed, "You were funny and nice," she paused as she looked over at me and smiled again, "And hot. You seemed like someone I would have done anything to be with.. until I discovered that you could make me be with you." Her smile fell and she shook her head, looking away again, "I don't want to be forced to do anything. You can't control me because I can't hear you and that's how it's going to stay." She shrugged and threw me a side glanced with a mischievous smirk. "If you're still interested in sex, my hearing has nothing to do with that."
     I watched her as I listened to what she was saying. Once she was finished, it dawned on me that I was interested in her and that I probably wouldn't get over that interest until I figured out how to get everything that I wanted from her. I reached over and brushed some hair out of her face. She turned her head to look at me and I smiled slightly.
     "I'm going to kiss you now," I whispered, leaning toward her. She smiled and kissed me back.