𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨 | 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚

"𝐖𝐞"

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| 0 5 |

June 7th, 2019
10:56 am

The sun peaked through the cracked blinds, it illuminated the chipping paint behind Rose's soft sleeping features. Her eyes lightly opened to reveal the same shitty atmosphere, although—Richard was nowhere in sight. The spot where he had slept on was empty, yet it held his scent. A mixture of mint and lavender. You'd expect someone like Richard to smell like death: sulfur. But he surprisingly had this musky smell to him. Without thinking, she felt herself melting in the spot he had laid in. It smelled sweet, sighing quietly she pulled herself out of the comfort and warmth of the bed and stood up. Richard wasn't around, she'd take the empty room to her advantage and bathe. Maybe have her own concert during her bath.

Padding into the bathroom, she closed the poorly set up door and flicked the lock. Taking her phone out, she blasted 'Say it ain't so' by Weezers, the first guitar strings in the song were enough to make her dance and sway her hips lightly as she stripped off her clothing. Her quiet singing was drowned out by the sound of the tub filling with water, once she was completely bare— Rose stepped into the lukewarm water and sunk into it with her phone in her hands, skipping the next few songs, letting a random metal playlist blare. It was mostly a mix between TOOl and Deftones.

The blaring rock was loud enough for her to not hear anything going on outside the room, sinking into the water the world went silent for just a few seconds. As she emerged, Richard was sitting on the toilet watching intently. Rose flinched and grabbed the shower curtain as if it was a reflex she was born with, "What the hell Ramirez?" She hissed, covering what she could with her small hands. "What?" He asked in an innocent tone, "I could have sworn I locked the door." Glancing at the door, the lock was still turned— but the door was wide open. "Flimsy ass lock." She muttered under her breath while sitting up and turning her back toward Richard, "You're acting as if I'm not completely aware of what the female anatomy looks like." He stated, "Yeah, no shit— but you don't have the right to see my rotisserie chicken built body." Rose snapped, earning a loud laugh from Richard. "Can I have some privacy now?" She mumbled, "Sure, just thought I'd let you know I got us breakfast and a car—cash too." Richard paced off. He needed to stop doing that, Rose was left with her mouth open and questions lingering on the tip of her tongue.

Eventually, she got out the tub and drained the water. Wrapping a towel around her body, she stared at an unfamiliar pile of a neatly folded outfit for her the male had (probably) left behind. It was just a simple loose fitting white dress—with new undergarments, it was better than changing into her extremely dirty clothes. Silently, she changed after drying herself off and stepped out with her folded dirty clothes hugged up to her chest. "I do have to tell you this." Rose placed the clothes down and stared at him, "Technology is so improved and advanced, you can't go slaughtering how you did back then." He cocked his head to the side staring back at her, "They will find you or trace you faster than it takes for you to say murder." She placed her hands on her hips, "The feds will be on you and you can kiss your freedom goodbye— with that said," Rose paused and sat across from him, "I have to ask—where did you get all this without money?" 

Richard slid over her meal and kept his eyes glued on her, "When you serve the right Master, he goes and provides— unlike the other guy upstairs." He proceeded to look down to his meal and began to eat, Rose sighed and did the same, keeping her eyes on her food. It was really just a really simple eggs with bacon and pancakes deal going on, from a nearby diner—she could assume. "Why do you do that?" Richard asked quietly, his voice itself was so soothing to her ears. It was so deep, and it had a slight accent to it. "Do what?" Rose mumbled, taking a bite from her bacon. "You avoid eye contact a lot."

Rose swallowed what was in her mouth and glanced up, "Anxiety I guess, my dad was an abusive alcoholic..he spent ninety five percent of the time drunk off his ass." Her arm subconsciously trailed up her waist, "He'd beat my mom and I a lot, I could say it was just a habit I developed to avoid having him hit me." She tried hard to not look weird while staring at Richard, but her stomach always felt uneasy when she maintained eye contact with someone for too long. "If I ever looked at him wrong or just stared—it was as if I was asking for it." She shifted awkwardly and offered a small smile, "But yeah, sorry if it bothers you or if it's weird— it's a habit I can't seem to break out of." Rose paused, "Anyways." She chuckled, ready to change the subject.

"You make yourself seem so small, huh?" Richard trashed the empty to-go box and leaned back, "On a side note, the dress suits you." Rose looked down and stared at it, "Yeah it's really nice, thank you— I appreciate it a lot." She stood up and grabbed both their trash and discarded it, "Thanks for the meal too..if we find a place, I'll just cook for u—" Rose immediately closed her mouth, "If 'We' what?" Richard purposely placed an emphasis on the 'we'— "Nothing." She cut back, "I shouldn't get too used to you anyways, right?" Glancing back at him, she smiled and began to put her things together, dissatisfied with her answer— Richard rolled his eyes and proceeded to do the same.

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