Pacifier

// Isabelle \\

"Why did they do that?" i asked looking up at him in the dark.

He was stood over me, looking down at me in my black lace bra and the silk pyjama shorts I had borrowed from Nakita.

I wondered if I caught the light in them the same way that she did. I wondered if I looked anywhere near as royal, as angelic.

Van was ragged, his shirt only half buttoned up, cold water damping his hair, little blood stains in his roots. He wasn't very good at washing the evidence away.

When he didn't answer me, when he turned away and busied himself with the glass on the floor I asked him again.

"Van..." i started to speak, he was angry, I was nervous. For a moment i thought he was angry with me.

"Because Isabelle, there's a lot of people in this town that want me dead..." he snapped gathering the broken glass up in his hands, dropping it into the bin.

I thought about the fire burning outside. I thought about the blood on Vans face.

I wanted to ask him more. I wanted to know how he could do that, shoot someone dead and then just wander back upstairs to bed. I needed to understand but i could see it in his clenched jaw. He wanted me to be quiet. He wanted me to settle down and go to sleep. He didn't want another word.
I felt scorned, i felt put out. I felt like scowling and crossing my arms. I wanted him to turn around.

"Why?" i asked meeting him with a glare when he turned around.

"Because Isabelle," he growled picking a wooden board up from the floor, beginning to take his frustration out on hammering it in across the broken window frames.

"Thats not an answer..." i snapped back, my voice only almost drowned out by his relentless hammering against the wall.

He didn't reply, he didn't even turn around to look at me. He just ignored me and carried on. I watched him, his cheeks flushed a little red as his smahsed the nails into the wall over and over again.

There was something about the angry determination in his eyes as he hit out at the wall which drew me in. Held me hypnotised.

I let out a sigh, flung myself into bed dramatically, rolled onto my tummy and crawled to the end of the bed letting out another dramatic sigh. Just wanting him to turn around. Wanting him to notice me.

"What is it Isabelle?" he snapped.

"Do you have to do that now..." i pouted, knowing already that the answer was yes, knowing already that my childish question would only futher frustrate him.

"And if i dont do it now?!" he hit at another nail, "you want to freeze to death in the night? You want just fuckin anyone to be able to climb in and..."

"If anyone else wants to climb in and kill you I'm sure they'll just fuckin shoot at you again..." i sulked, glowering eyes locking with his when he turned around, a little dewy because I couldn't keep my act up for much longer.

He turned around. My words had touched a nerve.

He dropped his hand, the hammer hanging limp by his thigh. He was still glaring. His eyes were still stealy and cold.

Suddenly I felt a little fearful. Perhaps he had an answer for me now, but perhaps it wasn't the answer i really wanted to hear.

"Isabelle," he sighed, "Don't use that kind of language with me,"

"You use it with..."

"Izzy don't argue with me now..." he raised his voice, i shrunk back, i could see it in the way he softened slightly that he regretted it almost instantly. "Not tonight alright..."