Break Me - Murdoc Niccals x OC

Phase One, Chapter Twenty Three

Rose awkwardly rubbed her neck. Both men seemed to be more than ready to strip; Lucius was glaring at Murdoc, seemingly jealous of his shirtlessness. Rose couldn't help but notice that even under his shirt, Lucius had a nice physique. And by nice, Rose meant amazing. His shirt was basically clinging to his figure, dripping with sweat. Murdoc, however, was just a smidge less... bodily prepared. Lucius seemed to do what he did with grace, while Murdoc adjusted his balls a bit.

While Murdoc was a slob Rose couldn't help but think how just that one action summed him up so well.

Rose's eyes, however, were trained on Lucius. He seemed a little distraught, sweating the way he was. Rose could tell he wanted to take off his shirt but something kept him from doing so. Charla spoke up. "I'm gonna go get a drink." She stood from her current little project of painting one of the several pots they'd bought; Murdoc's eyes snapped to her.

"I'll be going with her. Gotta make sure you don't steal anything, love," He stated plainly when Charla threw him a glare, "and I've gotta piss, too."

"Well, don't tell me that." Charla snapped, trudging across the lawn towards Kong with Murdoc following slowly behind, trying his best to irritate her or insult her.

Rose knew that this would perhaps be her only chance to inquire why he seemed to not want to remove his shirt; as Lucius was working, she crept up behind him. He didn't move, he didn't even turn his head. "What are you up to?" He put down the tool, finally turning to look at her. Rose jumped.

"I was just..." Her eyes caressed his form and he chuckled, gesturing to himself.

"Wondering why I don't take off the shirt and bask in the glory of the sun like that other guy?" Rose was almost in awe at the fact that he knew even a little of what she was thinking.

"Um, yes."

Lucius sighed, resting his hand on the table, his yellow eyes gazing at the sky. The makeshift wooden table creaked under his weight. "Suppose it's fine. Not like I should care. But really, you should actually ask rather than gawk at me." Rose almost stuttered. Gawk? Who was gawking?! She froze as Lucius slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Her mouth almost dropped open. Pale scars littered his torso. Where there were some, others overlapped; it was like his entire frame was covered in them. Some led into the waist of his pants and Rose felt like that wasn't where they ended, but the ultimate worry started when Lucius turned his back. Two jagged, long scars that were stained a deep red as if they'd been torn open time and time again were on either side of his back, part of his shoulder covered by them; they dragged down to his midsection and Rose swore she'd never seen anything like it. The smaller, more faded scars were nothing compared to these two and she felt compelled to touch him.

Her fingers splayed out across his back and Lucius seemed to jump at her touch. Still, he leaned on the table, allowing her to examine them, her fingers running along the ridges of his more prominent scars. "Fights over territory."

"Gang wars?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Didn't think you'd be involved in that kind of stuff."

"Well, Rose," Lucius turned around and there was a look in his eyes that she couldn't place, one that made her feel like she should back up. Maybe escape. A part of him screamed danger. But another part of what she felt was that he wouldn't hurt her. "You can't judge people by appearance alone. You never know when the devil's going to crawl into your bed." That line made her think of Murdoc. He was right. It may be a metaphor, but he was absolutely, irrevocably right.