ANGEL
He infuriated me ever since our first encounter.
I admired his looks and patience he had while holding me hostage. But as the months followed up, our hate towards one another bloomed.
So much, that the ashes inside of me bloomed as well.
LUK...
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I admire this man patience.
We've been here for hours now. He even got himself a chair. But I won't budge even if I want to leave.
I need to feed my fishes.
"Katerina hm?" He asks, his eyes on mine.
"Yes."
I've been circling him with talk that doesn't really says anything. I'm also using a Russian accent.
"Again. Why were you there?"
He sounds a scratched disc, always asking the same thing. Isn't he tired, bored?
"Needed to pee."
"With two guns and two knifes." He stats more than asks, glancing at the table.
Actually it's three, they didn't found my lucky knife, that's attached to my inner thigh. At least I know they haven't touched close to my private area.
"I'm scared of wolves." I shrug rolling my neck. I've never been so bored on my entire life.
Don't get me wrong, he's drooling to look at, but I would prefer to look at him in other place that isn't a chair that makes my ass numb.
He gets out of his chair and puts each of his arms against the back of mine, trapping me more than I am, eyes piercing into the soul I don't have.
I don't blink, maintaining the eye contact, and when I feel his warm hand slide up my thighs tauntingly, I try to grab it, but my hands are tied down.
Motherfuckers.
I hold my breathe as his calloused fingers trail up my skin, making me fight the urge to clench my thighs, until he grabs the knife, where he can easily figure who I am if he's smart enough, and twirls it on his fingers.
I bet what those fingers can also do.
Don't mind me, when I'm close to danger I have to distract my thoughts and he certainly has a appeal that screams sexually experienced.
If he wasn't keeping me captured I would give him the benefit of doubt, but this is a turn off.
Kind off.
"Wolves must be a real torment for you." He raises a single eyebrow making me nod, annoyance boiling my blood.
"A wing. Interesting." He analyzes the knife.
It's curve, mimicking a wing, it even has the texture representing the various feathers. The handle of it has a hole on the middle, to twirl it on my fingers better and therefore a better aim. It's also engraved an italic the word 'dark angel', printed on the edges of the hole.
I go by dark angel, because I work at night, besides it's my favorite time of the day.
I jiggle my hands against the ropes that hold them, when he starts analyzing the knife.
