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I had a job this morning – a quick little assassination of a lesser royal – and I am still running on adrenaline and the five cups of roasted kaffo that I had this morning.
There is a vague idea in my mind that I may be hungry, but the thought of food doesn’t sway me from my mission.
The most important mission in my life. More important than any job I’ll ever receive.
Being with Brielle.
She woke up before I left last night. I didn’t try to conceal my presence. Instead, I loomed over her and grinned as her body froze in fear.
I think she almost stopped breathing. I had to swallow my laughter as I sat down on the bed next to her, before I reached out to stroke her hair.
I just needed to feel her. Inhale her scent. Feel the fragility of her.I think this to myself as I walk through the Red District, and then the theater district.
There is a mighty river, dedicated to The Guide, that separates Lowtown and the factories, mills, and farms from the rest of Pyrthos.
It is a freshwater river and is used as a method of travel between Pyrthos and Orthani, though it isn’t utilized all that much.
They’re probably afraid that The Guide will tip their boats over and drag them to the depths of the river.
Now, as I walk up to it, I inhale the scent of musk and algae that always lingers around the river.
The singular smell of manure also hangs in the air, and I wrinkle my nose as I look over at the farmlands.
“Do they really have to allow the tauras to take a shit right here on the riverbed?” I grumble to myself as I step carefully to avoid taura dung. “This has to be a health hazard,” I say to myself before I finally make it across the river.
I cut through the farmlands on my way to Lowtown.
When I slip into Brielle’s room, she is waiting for me. Her body is still stiff with anticipatory fear, and I smile at the smell of her fear, which is palpable.
I do all the talking. She just sits, curled up in her bed, her back against the wall.
Waiting for me to hurt her.
Or fuck her.
She wants both. She wants you to hurt her as much as you want to hurt her.
It has been ten days since the first time I made Brielle moan for me.
Has it really been only ten days?
It feels like a year has passed since the first time I made Brielle shake beneath me.
Eight.
Tonight, Brielle did not stay awake for me. And anger surges over me so quickly that it almost knocks me off my feet.
I grab her hair gently and shake her awake. She gasps, choking on a scream, as I drag her from unconsciousness.
She bursts into tears, but I sit down next to her on the side of the bed and take her in my arms, soothing her.
Again, I do all the talking, while she waits for me to hurt her. Or fuck her.
She is less afraid tonight, despite her tears. Instead, she arches her back expectantly when I turn toward her. She licks her lips when she looks me up and down.
It is difficult to control myself around her. I want to take her right here and now, no matter who hears, and no matter who comes running.
That is all I want.
