The Assassin's Blood

Chapter Four

                 When Rose Marr had awoken from her slumber, she remembered last night, the letter...Jon's thoughts. She quickly slung her cloak on, shoved her feet in her boots and put on her mask. On the way down the stairs she braided her golden hair and rushed outside. Air. She needed air. She ran to the sea. The wind pushing her cloak. The sunrise shone brightly when she shoved off her mask. Gods she hated this place, but she knew this was the only place for her racing heart and throbbing head. So much to bare, so much to say and do. Just so much everything. She opened her arms and threw back her head. She thought, Just take me now, please.
             "What in hell are you doing?" Jon asked. She dashed toward him, fists out, she screamed from the pain on the inside. He caught her shoulders, shoved her back and put his fists up, "What are you doing?!" He staggered, his expression was tense, furious, and perplexed. She darted forward again, punching his face. He tackled her to the ground, and pinned her there. His blood dripped on her cheek, "Stop!" He yelled, "You're not making anything better on me or yourself."
                "Let go of me!" She resisted. He let go and wiped his bloodied nose. He panted and stood tall, broad shoulders tense and muscular. She laid on the ground and said, "I needed that." She scrounged for her mask and stood.
                "Well at least you could've told me and I would have been more prepared." He wiped his nose again. Silence. Nothing but the dreaded sea beside them make a sound. Jon looked at Rose with what seemed like thoughtfulness in his eyes. She sneered in return, oh how she hated him.

                  It was almost noon when they reached their room, Rose sat down in the leather chair in front of the unlit fireplace. She stared at the wall and then looked back at Jon. His face was grim, nothing but dullness shone in his eyes. He looked at Rose, the expression did not change. He fixed his chestnut brown hair and crossed his arms.
                 He looked at the clock and said, "I'm going to get lunch." And headed for the door. As soon as she heard the door shut she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She could hear her heart beat, her pulse, she felt something rush through her. Her blood raging. She felt nothingness around her, featherweight. The room spun and spun, her eyes still shut. She felt stronger for some odd reason. She opened her eyes. She was in mid air, 2 inches between the roof and her head. Gravity's pull pushed her back down, swiftly, landing with a loud thud into the chair. She quickly stood, feeling the rush of her blood settle. She ran to the bathroom and washed her face, again and again. What was that? So many questions. She walked out of the bathroom still wide eyed and heart still thudding. She sat slowly on her bed. Rose heard something racing up the loud, rickety stairs, Jon whipped through the door,
"What on Earth?" He panted. "What happened? Are you okay?" He said. Rose looked up and saw something in his eyes, but it wasn't like what she saw at the beach that morning. She cocked her eyebrow and gave a fiendish grin,
"I'm fine. I-" she hesitated, "fell." Jon rolled his eyes,
"I don't need another thing to worry about so stop being clumsy." He looked at the floor and clenched his fists. "It's almost time for dinner, I suggest you clean up." He slammed the door to the bath room.
           "I don't think I can clean up without the bathroom facilities, genius."