Aurora's Heart

Part 33: Ripped schemes

Elijah

I've been home for weeks. It feels like I am trapped in here. It gets lonely, I suppose. I mean, Rory barely talks to me and even though I've made evening dinners at home or out mandatory, even those seem to be plagued with grandiose silence. I've tried my hardest to make this experience pleasant for her...with the few minor tweaks here and there for my comfort as well, of course. It wouldn't kill her to smile at me at least once. I am risking my life for her here, a question of how I am doing would be a step! What the fuck am I to do with this hand I have been dealt?
Loving a woman who knows who I am now, and what I've done. I say all the time that I can understand her incapacity to reciprocate my feelings anymore, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

I sigh, shaking my head, switching the TV off and closing my eyes to find refuge in my maddened mind. My expectations need to be adjusted, especially since I have no idea when these people are going to come and vet us. I seem to be glued to this couch in the meantime, watching TV seems to be all I can do. I still haven't gotten rid of Georgia. She's moving fast. I suppose I shouldn't be shocked that eliminating her is proving to be more difficult than all my other jobs. She is after all just as trained as I am. Needless to say, the hunt has become tedious, and disappointing.

I sign heavily, rubbing my temples.

"What's with you?" Rory asks. I open my eyes, alarmed. She fucking startled me!

"Nothing at all," I shrug. Nothing but the fact that I haven't completed my mission, you hate me and I am incredibly torn between Elijah by day and Elijah by night.

She scoffs and pours herself a cup of coffee. Her brows furrowed with frustration as she walks towards me. I notice she's only wearing a robe. It's all black, and lace with and damn near see through. Her nipples, ripe and stiff under the sheer fabric. I can feel my dick throbbing with overwhelming want. I hold my breath as she sits next to me on the couch, begging my eyes to keep on hers, and not her breasts.

"I may hate you," She breathes, and stiffen as the words pierce through me like a thousand peppered knives, heated over the flame of her hate. I know you do Aurora, I know. And it kills me. "But I know you, I know you are in your head about something, and though I shouldn't care. I am here with you daily, and I feel as a fellow human, I can be an ear for your release, so humour me."

She wants to talk to me? My brows furrowed in confusion, but I yield nonetheless. I want to talk to her, be free of the thoughts that shackle me. I miss her.

"Well,"I clear my throat, sitting up in the couch. "I am bothered by the fact that I am hated by you, but we already know that."

She sighs heavily, her eyes tilted to gaze past me and through the window. She seems lost in thought. She doesn't want to talk about feelings...that much is clear.

"I am also bothered by the fact that I am yet to kill Georgia,"I sigh, "she wasn't saved by our marriage and is to be killed for sharing information she shouldn't have,"

Her eyes dart to me in shock. Ah, yes. There it is...shock. I had no idea I could still do that. Yes, Rory, these are the things that plague me.

"So, you are overwhelmed with thoughts of a murder you cannot commit,"she says with distaste obvious in her voice.

"Yes," I say firmly. My eyes never leaving her gaze. I am challenging her. Yes, this is me. The murderer, who kills for pleasure and for work, bothered by the fact that he can't kill who he must. Yes, look me in the eyes. Her eyes do not flutter, or appear intimidated. Good.

"Well, I cannot help you with that,"She shrugs, "I can merely ask that you eat something and get out of the couch, go and do something outside of these walls that does not require someone dying,"