STRANGER, jesper fahey

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Know better?"

Gwen had her first kiss when she was thirteen...and from what she could remember, she hadn't enjoyed it, it had been wet, from her own tears and the boys slimy saliva, practically threatening to drown her in his spit as he'd clumsily pressed his lips to hers and made her choke in shock. She couldn't remember why she'd been crying, big fat tears rolling down her dirty cheeks as she sobbed, and she couldn't remember why her fellow Barell rat had kissed her...but what she did remember was her pale hand that had clenched into a tight fist by her side that had forced his throat to close up and suffocate him in her vengeful rage.

Her father had always told her that if a boy laid his hands upon her mortal corpse without her permission, then she had his blessing to simply cut them off...and in her young, ruined mind that had been twisted by temptation and cruelty from a world that had left her to die like her family before her, destined to become nothing but a skeleton rotting away in the reapers barge or somewhere far worse...she didn't see why simply killing him instead was so different.

But when Jesper had pressed his lips to hers, his hands warm and gentle against the harsh panes of her face, bringing her closer, holding her together so tightly she was afraid she'd fall apart the moment they separated...she never thought something so impractical could feel like this, never thought she'd crave it, crave him as their lips moved against each other, starting as a mere gentle caress like a butterflies kiss, to something stronger as she desperately clutched his bright shirt in her trembling hands, teeth mashing together and her heart pounding, wanting to pull him closer, wanting push him away, just wanting and wanting filling her up like the the ever moving sands of time as they collided in a lovers embrace.

And she'd never fully realised what it meant to hurt, to truly hurt without something or someone being torn from her too soon, until she realized she wanted him, wanted him completely and to such a great extent that she had no other choice but to convince herself that she didn't. Because if she allowed him to get closer, if she allowed herself to fall...then her survival had all been for naught, because she'd be his, completely and terribly his instead of belonging to her title of Stranger...and with his mouth still slanted against hers, she didn't see how that could possibly be a bad thing as he finally separated from her to allow herself a moment to gasp for air.

For a moment, she could see clearly, could think clearly too, and she wanted to tell him...saints, she wanted to tell him everything, anything that would make him keep kissing her like that, but she'd barely got a word in edge wise as he began trailing his lips down her cheek, skimming across her jaw and then down, down, down to her neck, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her throat, could feel his smile, his teeth, and realised just how intimate this all was, having to trust that he wouldn't bite her, wouldn't tear her neck apart like a feral animal as her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her head back to grant him futher access with a quiet moan.

Keep touching me, she wanted to beg, keep kissing me, she wanted to plead. Just don't leave me in the abyss of life without you.

But they were cruelly interrupted from their...embrace by the sound of a bottle shattering and smashing to pieces onto the uneven cobblestones of the ground below, and the two quickly separated with Jesper's ring-clad hand instantly grabbing onto his revolver and twirling it in his talented grip to point towards the culprit, while Gwen's trembling fingers twisted in a familiar pattern in preparation as the wind began to howl around them...only for the both of them to quickly drop their battle stances with as a startled cat hurried back into the alleyway with a shrieking yowl at its uninvited guests.