angel of lies

two

warnings: swearing, frightening themes, suggestive scenes, tw; description of blood, discussion & description of death

word count: 6.8k

a/n: here's part two! i published this almost a week ago on tumblr, and promptly forgot to publish it on wattpad. oops. hope it's worth the wait!!

~⚘~

There was no light to be found anywhere as the boat sailed, more rapidly than before, over the swells of the river.

There was no light at all in the passageways Brian dragged you through— his grip was no longer light but crushing, and he held you fast as he hurried at a pace you could hardly have hoped to keep up with.

"Angel— slow down, I cannot run."

But though you were interchanging between running and walking, he only strode.

You glanced at him, managing only to gain a minimal perception of his countenance in the darkness, as the moonlight shone down through the windows you passed. But soon, he pulled you away from the windows too.

And pushed you to the wall.

He was nearly flush against you, and you tensed as a curl brushed your face, startled by his sudden closeness.

His eyes flicked between yours, his stare darker than the shadows he walked with, his fingers a cold vice around your wrist.

There was a spring in the pit of your stomach, coiled up beneath the intensity of his gaze, leveled with your breath which came in short, sharp bursts. In the silent hall you fathomed you could hear his heartbeat, as rapid as your own.

"Stay out of the light," he hissed.

You nodded silently, unable to bring yourself to speak.

You couldn't put your finger on it, but something about him was beginning to unsettle you. He had been a constant in your life for as long as you could remember, and yet, it had occurred to you that you knew next to nothing about him.

His eyes were foreign, as was the arc of his nose and his lips, and the colour of his smile you did not know, for you had never seen him smile. How intimate a smile seemed— the crinkle and curve, the warm feeling of a secret shared in good faith.

And how far from the expression of his face now. He frowned.

A slow blush carved its way up your neck as you realised your eyes had been on his mouth, because though fingers may have been cold, the rest of him certainly was not. There was pink in his cheeks, and when he had leaned forward, his hip had brushed yours, and his touch bled warmth.

But his hands were so cold.

It made you want to hold them in your own.

A murmur rose in your throat, but then Brian whirled around, searching through the darkness. He had seen something.

"What is it?" you whispered.

He only shook his head, motioned for your silence. You held your tongue and tried to slow your breathing, because surely that was far louder than any words you could have uttered.

A floorboard creaked somewhere nearby, and you stiffened.

Brian tapped his thumb against your wrist, then crooked the fingers of his other hand, mouthing, come on.

You nodded, and he pulled you from the wall, keeping you close by his side as he swept briskly down the hall.

You had the strangest feeling of being watched. It prickled on your neck, just as the eyes of Brian had formerly done. But where that sensation had been familiar, and comfortingly so, this was chilling.