elizathemekhet.livejournal.comWith thanks to Ryan Gatehouse for a brilliant scene...
Lucie swore vehemently under her breath as she watched the bastard that had cut her walk through the door of the room she had at the SitDown and vanish. She studied the cut on her palm that he had made and her eyes narrowed to slits. Blood... yes, it could be a turn-on but only when she was the one doing the cutting.
Just who did he think he was that he thought that he could get away with behaviour like this? Her hands balled into fists but she found herself hissing at the pain which turned her thoughts in other directions.
She slipped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom where she carefully washed her hand until the blood no longer ran.
‘You should be glad he did not kill you’ her conscience reminded her. ‘After what you did…’
She stared back at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes wide and unseeing. ‘Shut up’ she told her conscience. ‘This is all your fault. You are the reason I did not bring my Tools… I will just have to find new Tools.’
‘You told him you wanted to change. And you made a promise. You know he does not believe you.’
Yes. She had made one promise. That one she intended to keep. For her own safety, not for his. Would he really hold his head so high if she spoke of the things she could tell?
But there were other promises that had not been made out loud. Not yet.
He would pay for what he had done.
She would have to be very careful.
Somehow, she would find a way. She would break him. And any others. He had said ‘we’. Which implied there might be more... She would bring them all down.
Like she should have done in Arcadia.