Nice to Know

ExcitedDarkness

Peter grabbed me under the armpits and drug me out of the penthouse. I kicked and thrashed the whole way.
I couldn't stop. It wasn't that I was even fighting him, I felt like I was fighting something else. I writhed, ramming my elbows into something hard but I couldn't focus my eyes enough to figure out what it was.
There were cold hands reaching out from inside me and digging their fingers in as if trying their best to pull me deeper into myself. And suddenly that felt like a very bad place to be.

When the feeling began to ebb and my eyes swam back into focus I was in the mirrored elevator.
I was on the floor, and I could feel the grinding mechanics of the box as it lowered us.
"What was that?" I panted, looking up at Peter's concerned face.
He didn't say anything at first, he just chewed at the inside of his cheek and staired at my sweaty face.
I tried to keep my voice from quivering, "Why aren't you saying anything?"
"It's freightening, isn't it?" his voice sounded deeper.
I sat up and he crouched down to meet me half way. Once our faces were close I could see the black pulsing in his eyes, like it was excited.
"Does this do something for you?" I grimaced, aware that the human side of him wasnt exactly who I was talking to anymore. It was hard to tell which was which anymore, or if there was still any difference left to speak of.
but I knew fear and violence made him come out ten fold. It made him drown out the parts of him that were still my Peter. And at that moment, he was all twitchy, exited darkness.
He tipped his head in that mock-predator way, "A bit."
"Is it because you remember being dragged down, or doing the dragging?" It sounded strange, but he seemed to comprehend.
His eyebrow twitched as his lips curled into a lewd smile. Without responding he reached down with out finger, caught a bead of sweat that had gathered on my sternum, and popped into into his mouth.
Then he said, "Both."

My heart was thudding, but I could tell he was trying to embarrass me, so I shoved him back just enough for him to lose balance and fall on his ass.

This seemed to snap him out of it, and by the time the door opened up into the lobby we were both laughing on the elevator floor.
The people who crouded around the entrance gave us odd looks, in fact an older couple looked down right peevish. I told myself I would send a scathing note to their room later, maybe attached to a fruit basket full of warm melon and unpitted cherries.
The idea made me laugh harder for some reason.
Peter pulled himself together quickly and had me on my feet before I could decide whether or not I wanted to take a few more rides up and down with the posse. I owned the stupid hotel after all what were they going to do, Yelp me to death?

I realized as I was quided through the lobby that I was actually hysterical. I was full on deliriously giddy. And I couldn't stop. I just kept laughing. It didn't even seem like my laugh anymore.

"What's happening?" I asked Peter as he sat me down on an ugly floral couch.

"You're body is trying to regulate itself in a way. I felt with it a lot, it should stop after a while."

This made me laugh of course. Apperantly I thought it was a full blown knee slapper.

I noticed the crowd in theobby part suddenly out of the corner of my eye. People huddled tighter into the elevators or pulled confused children out the front doors. I didn't have the wherewithal to look around just yet, but Peter glanced over my head.

His face fell immediately, and he uttered a barely audible, "Shit."

"Are you Peter Pascal?" the voice was deep and authoritative. I'd forgotten that we'd assigned him that name, and it sounded weird said our loud like that. I also seemed to find this hilarious.
I turned to see who it was, biting my lip to keep from cackling in the strangers face.

"Yes." Peter growled.

The man that circled the couch was a police officer. And if wasn't just him. He was flanked by at least four others, some of which already had their guns drawn.

"You have to come with us." he said, reaching for Peter's arm.

Blessedly Peter didn't resist, though it was clear he wanted to, "What for?"

"For the Murder of Randal Pascal(I forgot what I named him forgive me)."

Peter kept his eyes on me as he was handcuffed and told his rights. And although I wanted to cry, I just kept laughing.

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Side note, if anyone could make me a decent looking cover for my other book Punishment Magic I'll love you forever( and credit you). The book is already written, so it won't take up any time I have to spend on this I promise, Im just uploading the new chapters to it every thrusday.