Chapters The shorter hand slowly approached the number eight. It had left seven long ago.
It was a rare occasion, when nothing else overwhelmed its simple beat. The mare was entertained by nothing more than the lonely ticking of the clock.
She was perfectly alone in her room, just as she wanted it. No artist likes having their tiresome, sweaty labor interrupted, or even peeked on by curious eyes, before it reaches perfection. And she was working on something truly beautiful.
She sunk her shapely white backside into a pillow, the purple and gold color of the three lilies that adorned her fur harmonizing with the crimson plush. She stared with her lovely violet eyes into an oval mirror, which had been set up on the dark wooden table before her. Mild mauve toned, glorious wavy mane poured down from her high held head, over her neck, and onto her shoulders. Most of the locks ended in a complete curl, but some only had a slight curve, reaching beyond the others, making her hairdo an exquisite, designed chaos.
Faint, sensual pink dye covered her eyelids, while their edges were painted black. Only on the left side, though. She was currently gazing at the other one’s closed reflection, its borders still unstained.
She leaned closer, her horn lighting up and wrapping a long pencil of eyeliner in a sparkling rose colored aura of magic. She tended to her eye with small, delicate motions, tracing the same line multiple times, only moving inwards once it was visible enough. After she reached the inner end, she moved back to the outer corner, and further thickened the contour, until it briefly covered the brim of the lower lid too.
She finally opened her eye, finishing another part of her masterpiece. Once assured from another point of view that her eyeliner was indeed flawlessly applied, she flashed a slight, cheerful smile, then popped the cap back on her instrument of vanity and placed it back on her table.
However, a bit of highlighting alone would not create the perfect illusion of lush eyelashes. For that she had to refine the lashes themselves. Next, she wrapped a scissors-like, brass coloured device in her magic.
She placed her lashes between the pair of slightly arched metal jaws on its end, then shut them close, pressed them down for a moment, and finally let go. This trended her eyelashes with success, and as she pulled the curler away, she further perfected their curve. She then proceeded to repeat the process on the other side.
After she put the tool down on the table, she lifted another small sealed tube in its place. It split in two with a click, revealing complete darkness in one half and a small rod with a brushlike ending on the other. After rubbing off some excess dye in the brink of the empty part, she lifted the brush to the fibers bordering her eye.
She touched it to their stems lightly, then started moving to their ends, barely jolting it back and forth in an effort to avoid lumps and sticking that would ruin her day. She did an ideal job, covering them so that they were thick and rich. She progressed from left to right, making sure to only paint each part once, and to only coat the upper lashes.
Highlighting her stare from the below too would have been too much of a hassle, and also needlessly dramatic. It wasn’t like she was preparing for a grand, formal event; this little meetup was only important for her and her partner.
Nor did she have to take drastic measures to make herself attractive—nature had spared her from a lot of drudge in that department.
With a final move, her eyes were at long last finished. The eyeshadow, liner and mascara all came together to create a desirable, enthralling gaze.
She had left the windows of her soul for last—the rest of her face had already been painted with makeup. Her cheeks bore a slight blush, and the thin fur covering her head had also received some care. Even the smallest fault could get between the cogs of the machine and ruin the whole picture. She had made sure to avert that.
Her apparel achieved its prime, improving her already fetching and alluring beauty, as even the diamond looks more amazing when chiseled—and she was more than willing to flaunt such a gem before the chosen of her heart.
It had been several months now, since they truly learned about each other, confessed their feelings, and thanks to the many similarities they found, started dating. Ever since then, flames had been dancing in their hearts, surely warming their chests, yet fluttering wildly and passionately. She was sure she would never forget the stallion.
One final touch: she grabbed a round bottle, and removed its cap, revealing a sprayer. She held it to her neck and pressed it, sprinkling a gentle strawberry scent on herself, then peppered some from the other side too, and finished on her breast.
Almost ready to part for the date, her soul shivered in anticipation. However, she couldn’t rush things. She still had some preparations left, and had to collect some equipment, so she wouldn’t get any unpleasant surprises.
She lifted her slender backside from the pillows, and finally stretched her legs, making her hooves knock lightly on the floor. Her horn lit up again, and some recently used bottles rose from the table in pink mist. They followed her through the air as she walked to another part of the hectic-red room.
Her deep purple saddlebag was laying on the top of a shoulder-high cabinet. She opened its lily-shaped metal clasp and placed her collection next to her wallet. She had to be ready for correction, should an unfortunate event ruin the fruit of her labor—after all, spoiled makeup would be even worse than no makeup at all.
She lifted the whole container and strapped it on herself. It was as large as the bags she used for shopping, or longer trips, so her minor belongings and toiletries had plenty of space.
She walked up to the door. Tissues, keys, bus tickets, and any other instruments required for dating lay in the other parts of her home, arranged in an anarchic manner.
After the door shut loudly the ticking of the clock was left alone. It no longer had any competition, although it had lost its audience too. There was no one left to please, only itself. It soloed on in solitude, long into the night…
The apartment house’s corridor was in disarray. Throwaway trash lined the floors, and the walls were covered only with worn, gray paint. The mare could hardly believe that the lord of her heart lived in such a place… The building was mostly abandoned, though, which brought her a lonely kind of comfort.
Door 51 was on the left side, right after stepping out of the stairway, so she didn’t have to look for long. To be honest, even without knowing the address, it wouldn’t have been too hard to find it—it was well visible that only this door had been touched this year. Those uninitiated wouldn’t know to seek anypony around here, thinking the whole floor was abandoned. Nevertheless, she was a common guest around here.
No matter how ruined it was, she thought she could trust the bell, pressing it a bit unsurely with her hoof. She heard a muffled buzz from inside as it informed its master of her arrival.
The next few seconds were tense with anticipation. Her heart was beating furiously, as she yearned for the stallion. She knew that she would see him again very soon, but this only made her more excited. So close, yet so far, it was driving her mad…
A minute… a whole minute just crawled by. Was he even at home? As she recalled he didn’t usually do anything at this time of the day. Of course she could be wrong… But it would have been an utter disappointment. For once she could really surprise him, and he was trotting away somewhere...
Near-silent steps caught her notice, growing steadily louder and louder as they approached her from the other side. They stopped about a meter away from her, and the lock started rattling.
She swallowed nervously.
The door finally opened, and he appeared. The earth pony with long, black mane, bright, turquoise eyes and blue fur. He had quite a bitter expression, but it soon lit up from the sight of the unicorn.
,,Fleur! What a pleasant surprise…”
She had thought her heart couldn’t beat any faster. It seemed like she had been wrong. She wanted to talk, but not even a single sound left her lips. It was as if her throat was shut close. After some effort, she swallowed again, then her chest tensed up, finally allowing her to talk.
,,H-hi.”
,,Hello! Come on in!”
The stallion stepped aside, and Fleur rushed inside with uncharacteristically large steps. The stallion shut the door closed behind her, then sat down before it and turned to the visitor, still bearing a smile on his face… However, as the mare was trying to look as small as possible, and was stepping around nervously in one place, some worry sneaked onto his visage.
,,You seem… Upset. Is everything okay?”
She ceased all of her movements, but her eyes opened wide.
,,Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine!”
,,May I pour you a drink?”
,,Uhh… Sure!”
He stood up from the entrance and walked up to Fleur, extending a hoof. Her horn shone, then the magenta scarf and crimson cap flowed off her, landing on his outstretched leg. Nevertheless, it continued pointing towards her… It was mainly interested in the lily-clad bag.
,,It seems heavy, let me take that too…”
He wanted the bag. It had already been pulling and pricking her side and every single gaze he cast upon it seemed like he intended to set it on fire. She turned away suddenly, covering it with her body.
,,No.”
She shook her head to clarify the barely-audible whisper. Her host sighed, took his eyes off of her and pulled his clothing covered leg back.
,,Well, suit yourself…”
,,I… want to use the bathroom.”
,,Okay. You know where it is.”
Nevertheless, he pointed in its direction, and the mare walked away, shutting the door behind herself shortly.
She had gone too far to turn back now.
Her bag was incredibly heavy.
She sat down on the cold floor in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. She was visibly on the brink of crying.
What if he also noticed? Then the element of surprise was lost… But she prepared for this for so long. Her desire was completely understandable. After such a long relationship, it was only natural to strive for this. And yet, that wretched fear was still gnawing at her heart… She wanted to do it so much, but now, right before the act, she just wanted to run. What she was about to do wasn’t clean…
No. If she had already came here, then she would do it.
She only needed some encouragement, like the drink. Which would make her perfectly sure in her work, when she would finally pounce at him.
There was, however, another way to gather determination. The thing that led her here. What she had to face each day, what strengthened her dedication.
She stood back up, and turned sideways. She lifted her hind leg from the mirror’s side, granting view on her nether regions…
But her attention was drawn only by her leg. Like the other three, it was covered with a gray-white striped sock. Not too far above it lied a little speck, where her fur ceased.
It was of a pink tone. The doctors had said it would soon turn white, making it unnoticable. The scar was on the inside of her thigh, and was about one-one and a half centimeters long, and her skin was slightly wrinkled around it.
It upset her, yet she could already feel the fright begin to leave. Another sort of pain took hold of her, as the memories poured over her like a waterfall. She felt as if she was there all over again… Just laying there…
The ceiling was crimson. It had burned into her eyes.
She was laying on her back, the soft mattress beneath her.
She was scared. Desperate.
Yet she didn’t move an inch.
It was hopeless. She no longer protested. Pointless.
Her eyes were burning from the tears, which also covered her flaring cheeks.
Her silent, ragged sighs melted together with her weeping into a sound of despair.
She was laid out, her legs spread… Defenceless, vulnerable.
She felt tainted. Guilty.
His hooves pressed into her cutie mark as he lifted her.
He had stopped for a while now.
But he was still inside her. He still parted her lips, he still… Violated her.
Her whole body was in heat. It was all just raw instict that kept her ablaze, especially down there…
Yet she deliberately wished to get to the top.
So this nightmare could end.
The grip on her flank softened, the hooves slowly crawled up her side, and started stroking her.
Her skin was tingling beneath his touch.
It was lust, filled with disgust.
She was trembling beneath him.
They were raking through her.
They wormed on the lower part of her stomach.
As they touched the sensitive buds, she gasped, and her body tightened.
Then they creeped up, up her ribs, through her chest.
They were fondling her neck. On of them hesitatingly stopped, while the other went on to her face.
This made him lean forward. She took her eyes off the ceiling.
The lively blue irises clashed with the dark frame of long black mane.
She couldn’t recall the rest of his face.
She just didn’t want to see his expression.
However, she couldn’t forget his words. She tried to.
But couldn’t.
,,Have you ever thought about it, my darling?”
His voice was also tired. Is it over soon…?
,,There is nopony else here now, but me. Right now… Nopony else cares about you, but me. Nopony else is talking to you, but me. Nopony else can touch you, only me. And nopony can hear you scream, but me…. Right now… Only I know about you. You are mine. Only I can judge you. And only I can decide, what will happen to you next…”
The next sentence was scorched into her mind forever.
,,Now, I am your god.”
The vile hoof left her face, returning next to its brother.
They lined up on the opposite sides of her gullet.
,,So pray for your life!”
At first, she couldn’t comprehend what he meant, what was happening.
Then the pressure reached her mind. It was directed at her throat, blocking her breath…
Blocking her breath!
No matter how hard she tried to get another gasp from the sweaty, yet vital air, nothing got through.
She grabbed his front legs with hers, trying to pull them away, but it was useless.
Her hind legs kicked the air.
Her horn tried to cast sparks, but that damned ring on its stem absorbed any energy that tried to enter.
Her chest shook, as her diaphragm fought convulsively for the desired air… Regardless, they went limp hopelessly.
It wasn’t about just dignity, purity anymore.
Life…
She was going to die…
She was going to die
Panic didn’t improve her situation. She just thirsted for the room’s filthy air even more, from which the hooves parted her. She felt herself slipping away…
He couldn’t kill her… No, he couldn’t just do that!
Something… He said something, he wanted something!
Everything became more and more blurry, the world was spinning with her.
He ordered her to pray…
The hooves which tried to pry her god’s hooves off from her windpipe let go, to fulfill his wishes.
They let out a silent knock, as they pressed against each other.
They were shaking in fear, even together.
He flashed his teeth with a disgusting grin.
,,Good girl.”
He finally let go of her throat.
At first it only opened for a slit, and her first breath was drawn with a loud rattle, then it slowly cleaned and cleaned more.
His front hooves were now placed on her cheeks. They stroked her gently, wiping off the mixture of tears and makeup.
The wild switching between punishment and endearment drove her insane.
He pulled back, leaving her sight, and she glued her eyes back on the ceiling, staring at is emptily.
He grabbed her once again, then she felt him move.
He swung his hips and continued right where he left off.
Her breathing was once again filled with gasps and sighs, together with her almost muted crying.
But at least they were proceeding again. Slowly, surely, towards the end…
The pulsation in her stomach quickened, and suddenly ceased, together with his movements.
A new feeling followed. Hotness.
With each of his pushes, her womb was filled with the liquid warmth.
She couldn’t get those nauseating, satisfied moans out from her head.
He stopped again. He was gasping.
Then he left her. Even his touch ceased.
She could close again, and be alone.
By herself, broken, scared, unsure and tainted.
Her heart was still beating heavily. Her body, sparkling from sweat, begged for satisfaction yet she had not reached the end—she had been abandoned mercilessly.
In her mind, however, even if slightly, she was relieved.
It was over.
He wouldn’t stomp on her any further, she was already trampled. She wouldn’t break her any further, she was already broken.
There would be no fresh pain, only the thorns already inside her.
Or so she thought.
Something lit up in her left thigh.
It pierced, strained, cleaved at her flesh. It was as intense as unexpected.
She gagged on the breaths caught in her throat, but finally, after what seemed like minutes of torture, she found the strength to scream.
Then the blade left her flesh, a short, weak scream following, like the bow being yanked at the violin.
She once again felt dripping heat, this time on her skin, and from the pulsation, she knew exactly that it was her own blood.
She saw him bend over her again in the edge of his vision. She wouldn’t dare to turn towards him.
His hoof clashed against her chin, pushing her head back, then she felt the cold, wet metal being pointed at her throat.
The resurfacing fear of death and the pain in her thigh made her weep even louder and more desperately.
Her front legs lifted from the blanket, but she didn’t try to push him away.
He surely would cut her throat.
No, she didn’t want to die!
,,P-please, don’t…” she sobbed in a tormented voice, miserably. She was still young, her recently defiled, sorrowful life was to her like a piece of dry bread to a stray dog.
There was still more, there had to be. She didn’t know where, how, but there had to be…
,,I’ll call the ambulance, and you’ll get a lift from them,” he told her in a monotone voice. ,,But you won’t tell anything to them. Nor to anybody else, got it?”
She nodded.
,,You promise?”
,,I-I promise!”
,,Good. If your little mouth gets loose anyway, then I’m going to find you, sooner than the police would find me, and you can be damn sure you’re going to wish that I cut your throat here and now!”
While talking, he started pulling the knife down on her throat. He didn’t press it in, it didn’t pierce, but it was noticeably touching her. She couldn’t even dare to swallow.
,,Thank me!” he demanded.
,,Thank you…” she obeyed in a shaking tone. She despised it.
The weapon left her throat.
He kissed her on the mouth.
She didn’t even try to stop the invading tongue, even if it upset her stomach.
Then he broke every contact with her, stood up, turned around and in a mere second the door opened and closed, letting in some fresh, cold air.
She was still just sobbing silently. She looked down at her legs in fear.
When she saw her leg and the sheets stained with blood, it was as if the pain turned worse too.
She started crying aloud.
She unconsciously dropped onto the bathroom floor, laying against the tub. Never before had she experienced such a large rush of memories.
As he had promised, not much later she really had got help. They had collected her miserable, desecrated body from there and had given her immediate care. They all had known right away what happened, nevertheless she still defied them, and told them she couldn’t remember who had done it, and that she had been alright.
She had done exactly as he ordered.
She had barely kept in touch with her friends afterwards. She had been afraid of what would happen, if after a simple run in, a casual chat, they would figure it out? Or if he had thought she told somepony and killed her? Or not even only her? She couldn’t have dared to risk it.
Even though, if she had, it wouldn’t have come to this. In the following weeks, she had only blamed herself, that she let it happen, she acted in a way that… She had felt guilty, and was convinced she didn’t deserve forgiveness. Nopony could have told her the opposite…
It had only been the scar as a suppoter. She had to face it every single day. No matter how she had tried to hide it, ignore it, she couldn’t avoid feeling it sometimes. However, this had helped her to forge her guilt and fear into something else.
Hatred.
Towards the traitor, who had stolen her heart, crushed it, then poured the shards into her body.
She had slowly realised that the blame was not truly her own, and that all along she had been merely his puppet. He had said he was her god, and she accepted it, started fearing him, thinking that his almighty gaze reached everywhere, so she could never sin, or break his holy laws, because then only damnation and retaliation would await.
However, the wound had told her the truth.
He wasn’t a god, merely a tyrant. Mortal flesh and blood.
If she would end him, she would be free.
This was the reminder she needed.
Her bag was still heavy.
She stood up and left the bathroom.
He was sitting in the kitchen with his back against the wall. In front of him a small round wooden table, with a rectangular glass bottle on it, in which a bit of orange-ish liquid substance resided, most likely an alcoholic drink. Both on his side and the opposite was a rather generic, round glass, with some booze already poured into each.
His face once again lit up from indifferency as he saw the mare returning.
,,You’re not exactly reluctant to make me wait, are you?”
His joking was received without reaction. She silently sat down on the pillow on her side of the table.
,,I never had thought we’d meet again… Sadly only this tiny bit of whiskey was at home.”
He picked up his glass.
,,Bottoms up!”
He lifted it to his mouth and drank.
Fleur wrapped her magic around her dose hesitatingly.
It reminded her of the drink on that certain night.
It had seemed like harmless red wine.
Savory, just another little pleasure, a bit of narcotism.
Then everything had started to blur. She had felt weak.
He had offered that she may lie down a bit in his bathroom…
The black maned stallion was consuming his part, when he heard some strange noise.
When he placed his empty glass down, he noticed that his old friend is simply tilting her glass sideways, pouring its contents onto the wooden floor.
Then it went silent. Only a few drops fell below from its brim.
His face also darkened.
The mood tensed.
Complete silence followed.
The violet eyes were slowly, thoughtfully exploring the empty glass’ walls. They saw from their corners that the cold blue eyes glared straight at them, but she knew that as soon as she stared back, the dance would begin.
Another drop…
And another…
The glass shattered loudly, unfortunately on the wall, next to the host’s head.
She immediately leaned back to her bag, looking for the clasp. However, this caused her to ignore the table being flipped on her. It wasn’t too heavy, but the element of surprise was enough for her to end up on the floor.
With a simple kick she removed the carpentry from her way, then hit the buckle of her bag with her hoof, opening the container. She reached in to search for her tool, but stopped instantly when she saw her opponent rising on his hind legs, strapping a pistol on his hoof.
She placed her hooves down, then stood up swiftly. She didn’t aim her attack, or plan where to strike. She just grabbed her saddlebag, and using it as a kind of makeshift mace swung at the earth pony.
As soon as she felt the collision, a loud bang followed, making her ears ring. However, no pain followed—he must have missed the shot. She opened her eyes and measured the results of her own rush.
The black maned pony’s mouth was agape, he was most likely screaming. She couldn’t see the gun on his hoof. He fell on the floor and was grasping his left pastern in pain, where her bag hit. His hoof was hanging, and seemed to get more and more purple and swollen.
This was her chance. She dug into the bag with her head this time, and throwing everything else away, set the burden free.
The machete wasn’t as noble and lean, as a sword, but it still had a stylish curve. Even though its original purpose was agricultural, it was suitable for taking lives too.
Now that she found her blade with her teeth, she took it within her magic. There really was no turning back now. She dashed towards her god, who was still agonising over his broken leg, and pressed him against the wall in full force with the flat side of her weapon.
He was pinned down, surrounded.
Completely vulnerable, left to her mercy...
He pinned her against the dark wall of the bedroom.
She wanted to blunt her impact with her hooves, but with the drug still working strong in her, she couldn’t even lift them. Her head knocked against the wall, her face turned limply to the side.
Completely vulnerable, left to his mercy…
So far he was only playing with her lower organ, but now she felt the lips part, as something intruded her. Her heartbeat became even more panicked.
She felt him licking her side, up to her neck. He took deep sniffs of the besmirched strawberry scent.
She stepped back, staring off into nothing. Her heart was beating wildly again. She sat down, and lowered her blade.
The stallion’s tired, hushed laughter rang in her now clear ears.
,,Well now, did you just realise?”
His voice was full with ridicule.
,,We aren’t as different as you would believe… I hurt you, and now you’re hurting me. I ruined your life, and now you are about to do the same with mine. Now that you’re aware, you think that if you’ll do it, you won’t be any different from me, don’t you?”
She looked into his eyes. The blue disks were devoid of hatred.
,,Forget it. We’re not on the same level at all… You are much, much more beautiful, stronger, and braver than me. I couldn’t kill you. I couldn’t just leave you there to bleed out… I didn’t even have a reason. I just… surrendered myself to my inner demons. But you… You’ve every right to do so. You have nothing to fear. Do it.”
This was unexpected.
She thought he would mock her for attacking him. Insult and belittle her. She was wrong.
However, this just made the whole thing harder.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
,,No… Don’t you dare to spare me! In case you forgot, I’m still your god. You won’t be free as long as I’m breathing. What are you waiting for?”
She lifted the blade, but the mist was blinking.
,,Don’t hesitate goddamn it! I went through you, I broke you! You still think you’ve got something to lose?! Do it! Do you need some more encouragement? You want me to stand up, tackle you and break you again?! Is that what you want, you fucking who-”
A short yell accompanied her swing. The machete was heavy, and she struck out of panic, so it hit him awry. A metallic bang rang out in the room, the force of the impact knocking him over. His temple began bruising, and his eyes stared forward blankly.
No, it couldn’t have been enough. This wouldn’t kill him, if he calls himself a god. She had suffered for too long to be satisfied with this. This had been coming for ages now.
She lifted the blade again with a furious shout and practically dropped it on him, this time hitting him with its edge.
A hollow bang sounded, as the steel crashed against the bone. It slightly sunk into his head, making a clean cut, yet most of the damage was crushing. A bit of blood flowed out next to it.
As she pulled her weapon out, small pieces parted from the flesh. The sight made her unsure… Yet with another disturbed roar, she stroke again.
The second hit made a much larger destruction, as the previous one had already cracked his skull. It went about four-five centimeters deep, and a silent, succulent noise joined the bang. As she removed the machete again, some kind of crimson substance started flowing out of the large, wedge shaped wound, mixing with some dark blood.
She went pale and sniffed loudly, then slowly started sobbing. Her own actions started to sink in, and horrified her. When she hammered down once again, her yell was more like a scared, desperate scream.
Whatever bone was left, she mashed it even more. The descending wide blade splattered the brain and blood on the floor, on the wall, on her legs, and on her chest. A single piece hit her face, and this was what caused her to stop.
She stared emptily at the corpse, then hesitatingly pulled out her weapon. With the latest strike, it sliced into the sizable veins in the middle of the brain, so it drew an ample amount of red substance after itself, and some tainted the metal too.
The machete was hanging beside her. She lifted it somewhat, maybe to smash again. Nevertheless, she couldn’t do it.
Enough.
Nay.
Too much.
It was all too much. She went too far. Up until now she didn’t commit anything, but now… Now?!
She took a life selfishly, out of revenge. He wasn’t even mad at her…
Did she solve anything? Did she have any good reason?
Too many pointless questions. Too much pressure.
Too much tension.
She dropped the machete with a loud clang. She turned away from it.
It was all too much. She had to let it out.
With distorted screams, on the floor. It was a sudden surge that lasted only a few seconds. After there was nothing left, she
Did she hope for salvation? Relief? She felt just like back then.
Weak, helpless, tainted and guilty. She was trembling again.
What if they found him? Then the police would turn her up without a problem.
Life is the greatest treasure in Equestria… She would spend the rest of her life in a small cell, never to see the sun again.
She became even more unsure than before. She cried from fear once again.
Home. She had to go home. Home was better… Home was safe.
At home she could weep as long as she wanted to.
She stood up, with her legs shaking under her, still hunched. She was weakened, dried out. She couldn’t stop for water.
She didn’t care about the blood on her legs and stomach. She just wanted to leave.
She leaned against the entrance exhausted, and gazed at the bolt. She tried focusing her magic on it to open it, but she was just too disturbed. Instead she hooked her horn into it, and pulled it open that way.
However, as she stepped back and opened the door, she met an obstacle.
It wasn’t much higher than her, and was also covered in white fur. A green scarf was wrapped around his neck, and his short, blue mane was covered by a dark bowler hat. His azure eyes were almost glued to the violet ones, looking down on them surprised from his confident posture.
Even the cold wind coming from the corridor froze in the air, none of them expected the other. It was a hollow stalemate. They didn’t know what to make of the other’s presence.
Until the one standing outside broke the staring contest, and was particularly interested in the tiny, red bit that stuck on the mare’s face.
The reward for the mere eye movement was the door shutting, and the bolt rattled loudly as it slid into place.
Her heart jumped into her throat, as she furiously backpedaled from the entrance. She was busted, much sooner than expected. Surely he saw the blood on her face. He would call the police!
He had to have already left, she just didn’t hear because of her stomp-
,,Uh… Excuse me?”
He was still there…
Author's Note
Stay tuned, second half coming in August
