The Bouquet

Chapter 2

You blinked a few times, snow starting to stick to your lashes. You hadn't even noticed it was beginning to snow. You took a step backward, turning on your heel in an attempt to make a quiet getaway only to turn so quickly you didn't notice the boxes nestled in the snow behind you. And, to your misfortune, you tripped and fell. It was loud, you just knew he had turned and seen you sprawled out in the snow you had kicked up. You groaned in pain, pressing your bare hands into the freezing snow as you pushed yourself up, clambering up and out of the boxes you had crunched beneath you.

In your struggle to stand, you hadn't thought about the man with blazing red hair at the end of the alley. But, he didn't forget about you. A strong hand clamped down on your shoulder and spun you around, slamming you back into the brick wall behind you. A soft groan of pain wheezed out of your chest from the impact your head had made with the wall. Apparently, one brain injury wasn't enough for you, a concussion was going to be needed as well.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, feeling the sting of the ice-cold snow melting against the flesh of your face and throat.

"What's the matter, little girl? Scared?" The man asked, a soft chuckle accompanying his voice as he spoke.

Your eyes snapped open at his words, confusion apparent on your face. You? Scared? Oh, the irony was at its finest. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his features before slowly shaking your head 'no.'

You had realized now, with his face so close to yours, that he was attractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive man you had seen. But, in retrospect, you had seen few men in your day-to-day life. His hair was still as shocking as it had been the first time you had caught sight of it, but it was also styled nicely. He had sweet, almond-shaped eyes with the darkest brown irises you had ever seen and gorgeous sun-kissed skin. And, not to mention, high cheekbones that even you were envious of. A thought suddenly entered your mind as your eyes continued to trace over every feature of his alluring face. He was the perfect predator. He was tall, lithe, and strong with a beautiful face that was perfect for luring in unaware victims. You were sure that if he had beckoned for you to follow him down that dark alley, you would have followed him without question even if that weren't in your nature.

He was a predator, and you were his innocent prey.

A thick copper scent struck your nose, your face wrinkling from the sharp scent. You had almost forgotten about the spray of blood that decorated his face and the column of his throat. He really was the perfect killer.

You noticed the confusion mirrored in his eyes, he knew you were speaking the truth. You weren't scared. And that either made you a threat or made you safe. You could see the calculating look in his eyes as he sized you up, he was probably wondering if you were not afraid because you had some hero complex or if you were just plain stupid.

A grin carved its way into his cheeks as he cocked his head to the side, his arm sliding up beside you as he leaned in closer to you. A part of you was almost grateful for the warmth his actions provided but another part of you curled up in disgust from the scent of blood that was thick in the air. And, despite everything that had happened, you were still not afraid. You were still broken, just like you always would be.

"You really aren't afraid, are you?" He asked, that same smile still present amidst the blood and his warmth.

You shook your head again, still unable to find the words to say anything. You were already socially inept, and this encounter was far out of the realm of anything you had ever experienced before.

"I don't have to worry about you opening that pretty little mouth of yours to anyone, right?" He asked, raising a hand and extending one finger to gently trace the flesh of your lower lip. The fact that that same hand that was gently caressing you had killed someone moments prior still changed nothing for you. Your heart didn't pound in trepidation, you didn't break out into a sweat, your lungs didn't struggle to breathe, and your legs weren't itching to run. You were not afraid, and he could see that. You could tell he was interested, curious as to why you hadn't started screaming for help like anyone else would. You were trembling, but it was from the cold and the cold alone.