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29 – Thief (1,3 k words)

  "Did you chew on my leg or something? It hurts," Celine mumbled.

  Lucian's heart jumped at the sound of her voice and he quickly turned his head. She was awake. Finally. She seemed confused, but not angry.

  "Not quite," he said, taking a seat on her desk with a big, innocent smile. “Just left you a little something to remember me by.”

  If he had a tail, he would have wagged it as well. Like a good, harmless puppy.

  She pulled up her skirt and stared at her bandaged leg, then back at him, "You..."

  "Mhm?" he hummed, batting his shes at her. "I...?"

  She didn't seem to appreciate his cuteness as much as he did, and pulled her skirt down, "You..."

  "Uh-huh?" he nodded.

  She bit her lower lip and looked at the ceiling, "...find this funny, don't you?" she finished, "I don't remember smiling when you were the one on the ground."

  "You are not crying either," he pointed out. A tiny, tiny detail, but an important one, nonetheless. He had to teach her to py fair.

  "Because you wouldn't care," she said, and he felt his chest tighten. "You'd enjoy it even."

  He looked up at the ceiling with her. It was a beautiful ceiling, with little flower patterns on it. "Or take pity on you, you never know," he finally said, "a woman's tears are a man's weakness, are they not?"

  She ignored his words and touched her hair to find that it was still intact. She then checked her nails, and then used her tongue to start counting her teeth.

  “What are you looking for?" he asked.

  "Checking what you stole,” she said, "I thought you would cut my hair, so I bought a few wigs just in case. And I had my makeup kit ready, so I wouldn't look like a raccoon, in case you punched my eyes bck."

  Lucian fought back the urge to squeeze the living daylight out of her. Her reactions were as ridiculous as they were adorable. He could barely handle it. "I didn't take anything. I'm not a thief."

  "That's all you've ever done. Stolen. My heart, my mind, my time," she answered, rubbing her chest with both her hands.

  Lucian's face burned up. He studied her, trying to find any trace of malice or mockery. There was none. She was just being his Celine to a fault. She could say anything to him and he'd swallow it like a piece of candy. And suddenly, he was hungry for more. "Don't you want to see what I've done?"

  She shook her head, "Not now. Later. When I can think straight again."

  "You seem fine to me." He slid off her table and walked over. She flinched slightly and that's when he noticed. The subtle tremble in her hands, and the way she was trying to hide her shaking knees.

  It seemed like the more stressful the situation she was in, the more she tried to look composed. As if her mind tried to bance itself on its own, and her body's natural reactions were at odds with what her brain tried to achieve.

  He kneeled in front of her, resting his chin on her p. "Are you scared of me?" he asked, looking up at her with his big, round eyes. "Even if I'm down on my knees, like this?"

  She didn't look down at him, and kept staring at the ceiling. "Even on all fours and a muzzle..." she mumbled then shook her head, "I'm not scared. I'm... just in pain. I think."

  "You're not sure if you're scared or in pain?" he asked, and she nodded her head. He reached up and pced his hand at the back of her head and gently nudged it down until she looked at him.

  The blue irises were surrounded by a ring of red, the eyeballs had veiny tendrils crawling through them, caused by the ck of blinking. The murderous gre she was hiding behind the gss of her eyes was so sharp, she might as well just cut him with her dagger instead.

  She was not okay. He could tell. "Is there something wrong with your eyes?" he asked, squinting, "You look like you have eaten a bad mushroom."

  She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, smudging her blue eyeshadow and eyeliner. She didn't seem to notice the dryness in her eyes until now. "Better?" she asked, blinking every now and then, though it was still not enough, "Do I still look like I ate a bad mushroom?"

  "No," he smiled, letting go of her neck, "now you just look like a raccoon that ate a bad mushroom. Cute and a little terrifying at the same time."

  "Like you then," she said, grinning away as if she was not a second away from choking him to death. She patted him on the head instead of doing just that, "Now shall I give you a cold shoulder and walk out on you to honor the cycle?"

  "Hm?" he blinked.

  "It's your turn to beg for mercy, is it not?" she continued, her fingers sinking into his hair.

  Her trembling might not have been caused by fear after all, but excitement and anticipation.

  "..."

  "..."

  "..."

  She didn't just adapt to his pace, and now wanted to keep the ball rolling, did she?

  His vengeance was supposed to be a way to vent, not a way to get punished in return.

  He didn't want to be on the receiving end of whatever she was brewing up in her sick, twisted mind.

  But what was he supposed to say?

  'Please don't do what I've done to you, My Lady?'

  'I can't handle the same treatment I gave you, My Lady?'

  Lucian's mind bnked on him, leaving him with a single, useless thought: her fingers felt good in his hair, and her thighs felt soft on his cheeks.

  "You are not going to give up on me no matter how hard I try to push you away, are you?" she asked quietly, more to assure herself than him, it seemed, "You'll just keep coming back, because...that's who you are. That's who you've always been. A stubborn mule."

  "..."

  "..."

  "You are supposed to say that's what love is about, Celine," he whispered, "Staying, no matter how hard it gets. That's the whole point."

  "I'm gd you mentioned love," she said, "You can finally prove me yours. If you love me, that is. I'm not so sure of that anymore, so you better convince me."

  "...Well, I don't love you anymore," he said, his voice breaking like a pubescent boy, "That's a fact. You're not a lovable person to begin with."

  She gred and he gred back, dumbfounded by his own words.

  Why was he digging himself a grave, was beyond him. It was like he wanted to get buried in it.

  She let go of his chin and pulled away, standing up and limping her way towards the exit without a word. She didn't even look at him, as if he wasn't worth the trouble.

  "Where are you going? You can barely walk. Let me help you," he offered, grabbing her by the arm.

  She spped his hand away, "You no longer have the right to touch me, so keep your dirty paws to yourself. You can leave the same way you came in. The window is big enough for you to jump through and fall to your death."

  “...” He reached for her shoulder, "Pying hard to get is not a cute look on you.”

  "Pying what?" she hissed, "You call fighting to keep my life a game? You think I begged and pleaded for you to spare me for fun? Your rotten brain must have been cooked to mush, if you think I go around pying games where the prize is my life. I don't want to get killed for not being a lovable person, so I am getting out of your sight to live another day."

  She grabbed the door knob and swung the door open.

  BAM!

  Lucian quickly shut it with his hand, keeping the door closed. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and he could feel his blood freezing in his veins.

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