Vice

24: Company

Natara jumps forward, grabbing the young man's over-shirt with every ounce of her strength and uses her body weight to yank him away from the ledge. 

Both of them stumble backward. Natara struggles to regain her footing but the young man recovers quickly - whipping around to give her the most livid expression she's seen in her life. He looks like he might raise his hand and hit her but he backs away, pulls out a cigarette, brings it to his lips with shaky hands, and lights it.

Natara releases a breath of air - thankful he's no longer standing on the edge of the bridge - but feels worried he might step back off at any moment. She watches him take a long draw from the cigarette and lean his head back, closing his eyes as the moon's silver light grips his cheekbones.

He stands like that for several minutes, which Natara interprets as a slight victory. "So, are you not going to jump?" She asks nervously, sounding a little too eager. 

His green eyes seem to look past her and with his back now turned to the moonlight they look almost grey. A rim of light outlines his pale skin in a glowing silhouette and surrounds his blonde hair like a halo. For a couple of seconds, Natara isn't sure he's heard her but just as she's about to repeat herself he answers. 

"Not anymore, so go away," he replies. 

There's something about his flat tone that strikes Natara's nerves and she shakes her head. She's not leaving just yet. It seems like he's lying to get her to walk away long enough for him to jump in peace. She grits her teeth and shakes her head.

"I'd like to walk you home," she says firmly. The man removes the cigarette from his lips and lets out a long sigh accompanied by a puff of smoke.

"I'm not going to leave otherwise," Natara tacks on for good measure.

"You're a fucking psychopath," he concludes. 

Whatever, Natara thinks. Anything to keep him from doing something stupid. 

Natara has annoyance etched all across her features but the man just looks bored. Silence rests between them for several seconds.

"Well, head home whenever you're ready." Natara forces the most genuine smile she can muster and the man takes his longest drag yet before he pulls the cigarette from his lips and crushes it under his heel. 

He still doesn't reply but he does start walking down the bridge. Natara releases a breath of air, grabs her bike, and follows beside him - ready to grab him again if he tries anything stupid. He turns his grey eyes toward the sky and shoves his hands in his jean pockets. 

If this was a walk alongside a different man - like Jace - Natara might have found this quiet stroll beneath the moonlight romantic. Instead, she's walking beside a dazed, depressed, and frustrating stranger.

Despite that, she still feels safer walking with him than she did being alone. She worries less about drug dealers and gang members because she isn't by herself. The blonde haired man she's with is also nearly a head taller than she is and he has a decent enough build to  intimidate.

"Well," the man stops walking in front of a penthouse downtown, "we're here."

Natara stares at the young man's home - an enormous two story glass house with gilded door handles, marbled stairs, and huge angled windows - in awe. 

Is this just another lie to make her think he's home when he's really just going to turn around and go back to the bridge? Surely this young guy doesn't actually live here. Even if Natara saved up every single one of her paychecks and her family sold everything they own, their combined money couldn't even afford half of this place.

"Is this really your house?" Natara raises an eyebrow and the young man lets out a dry laugh.

"Come inside if you don't believe me." He says and Natara gapes back at him. She's not the type to ever enter an older man's house at night. In fact, she's never entered any guy's house at night.

But there's a hollowness in his tone that tempts her. There's something about the way he says, "come inside" that sounds...different from how he sounded out at the bridge. It's not threatening. It's not angry. It's not cocky, sassy, or annoyed. If anything, it sounds...a little lonely. A little fearful. A little...genuine.

Is he afraid of being alone right now?

It's that tone that prompts Natara to go against her better instincts and cautiously step inside the man's penthouse. She doesn't even know why she does it. It's probably the worst idea she's ever had and her parents would kill her if they knew.

The interior of the house is more grandiose than the exterior, but what catches Natara's eyes isn't the crystal chandelier or the marble floor. Instead, her gaze lingers on the empty cartons of cigarettes on his countertop and the empty bottles of liquor on his living room table.

"Come lay down with me," he casually suggests. Natara's eyes bulge. Once again, warning bells go off in the back of her brain but the look on the man's face is too earnest and somber for her to say no. She doesn't know why her heartstrings tug her head into nodding.

The young man leads her to a large bedroom and doesn't bother turning the light on. He pulls her through the dark onto what feels like a cloud covered in silk. Natara lays down, heart pounding all the way up to her throat, and she closes her eyes, nervous that this man might take advantage of her.

But he doesn't. 

Instead he lays down beside her, staying about a foot away, with his arms behind his head. As Natara's eyes adjust, she sees his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Even though he's right there next to her, she gets the feeling that he's somewhere far away right now.

She nervously reaches out and places her hand on his forearm and he shudders, flicking his green-grey eyes toward her. He removes one of his arms from behind his head and moves it toward her, behind her head and around her shoulder. He pulls her closer until Natara's head rests against his chest.

"Leave whenever you want. Just let me fall asleep like this," the man says. He closes his eyes and Natara does the same, listening to the gentle thrum of his heartbeat.