𝘑𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦, 𝘑𝘶𝘳𝘺, & 𝙀𝙭𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙧 || 𝙳𝚎𝚟 & 𝙻𝚞𝚟

[Devils Temptation]

Judge, Jury, & Executioner
Luv & Dev
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ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴀɪɴꜱ
0:00ㅇ──────── 1:07​

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
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"Let's say, for example... there is someone you look up to. Someone you treasure dearly. Do you have that someone in your mind? Good! Now, just for one moment, I'd love for you to reminisce on the memories of that person. Everything warm you shared with them, let it fill up your heart. Every happy memory, every difficulty you surmounted with them, every hint and scrap of love you possessed for them... ah, such a shame..."

...

"Oh dear... your face looks a little pale. Why is that? Smile! You should be smiling right now, don't you think? To be thinking something so warm and cozy like that... why are you not smiling? Do you... maybe feel a little uneasy from those trailing few words?"

...

"Don't be such a bad sport! You know... something is only really beautiful and valuable because it is fleeting. How would you come to put worth on something that lasted forever? You cherish the moments and time you have so much more precisely because you know that the relationship may one day end. That's just what life is, after all! Oh, but... ah. That puts us in a rather difficult position, does it not? After all... you stole someone else's most cherished. That's a little unfair don't you think?"

Wet. Damp droplets of dirty water splattered off the ceiling above. Faintly, a rivulet had begun to flow from the ridge of the man's forehead. Even had someone asked him how he had gotten here... he could hardly have answered them. One moment, he was in a car off the highway headed to his villa to get away from the press. A long deserved vacation after a hazy, difficult spree of allegations. The next, all he had heard was the CRASH of a vehicle colliding with his own. Everything had gone pitch black from that moment forward and the next second he opened his eyes, he was there. Strapped to a chair, stripped down to only his undershirt and boxers, duct tape around his wrist and ankles to the point that his skin had started to mildly tear from the adhesive that dug against his skin. At first, there had been some hint of panic. Fear, bargaining, confusion - but all of it had melted down into an exhausted, quiet resignation after the crippling realization that he had been locked in... god knew where... alone for nearly an hour or two straight. At that point, he hadn't been keeping track.

That sinking feeling of pure, unadulterated despair only grew more pronounced when his captor came to enter the room.

A deep, inviting voice he had heard before. Blatantly polite with sweet, dulcet tones that were all too alluring to listen to.

"...Are you done?" Hoarse. His voice felt painfully dry. Chapped, faintly cracking lips signified that he had been unconscious for enough time to start to need a drink but even he had yet to grow desperate enough to lap at that filthy trickle of water atop his head. A reaction that was all too casual for how he was bound by some unknown assailant - but... well. His assailant hadn't been unknown to him. Smooth, slicked back black hair led down to conventionally handsome, masculine features. The sharp jawline led to flatter cheeks that lacked any sort of blemish or stain. Compared to his own lips, the man standing in front of him had a glossier, eye-catching warmth to his own that curled up in a perpetual, inviting grin. Settled behind the pair of glasses on his brow were equally as warm, dark brown eyes - nearly black in color, though the faint illumination in the room was enough to show a browner undertone. Settled below his expression was a broad, well-built physique. Wide shoulders with the faint flare of muscle along his shoulders and biceps all of which were neatly tucked behind the fabric of a black suit and white dress shirt. No tie for the moment which allowed for some hints of his collarbone and chest to be exposed. Subtly, the carve of his pectorals gave off the very simply assurance that no matter how disarming his voice and face had been, the body underneath was nothing to mess with.

"You're the detective that was trying to grill me a few days ago, weren't you? Orion. Orion Locke. I don't know what bullshit with your bad cop, good cop routine you're pulling, Detective Locke... but just know that once I'm out of here, I'll sue you and the entire department to the point you'll be in a fucking shoebox. Do you have any idea who you're fucking with?" Curving along the gaunt features of the older man, faint hints of his canines were exposed in a domineering grin that assured his assailant that he'd be buried once this bizarre investigation was over. In his mind... he had convinced himself this was just some part of the investigation process. Something desperate these worthless detectives and good two-shoe law enforcement officers would use as a last ditch effort - but he wouldn't talk. There was no need to. Compared to these worthless pigs that were on his payroll, there was nothing that the man couldn't pay off.

"Hm? Oh. You appear to be under a misconception, Sir. I'm not operating under the jurisdiction of the investigation. And... you also aren't going to be leaving here alive, Sir." Orion explained, much like he might explain directions to someone who was lost or explain how to sign out a form at his local precinct.

Naturally, his words were met with another disbelieving scoff from the man who just spat straight along Orion's dark dress shoes.

"How fucking stupid do you think I am? Yeah, no shit you're acting out of your jurisdiction - but you're a cop. You'd never kill someone as high profile as me. It'd end your damn career right then and there. How about you go fuck yours--" SPLATTER. Before the sentence could fully leave his mouth, a crippling scream shattered from his lips. Overwhelming, sharp snaps of pain crashed over his thigh all at once and his hands would instinctively begin shaking as he realized what had happened. Pouring down his thigh were gushes of scarlet blood - so much so that it completely stained his leg and boxers and began to splatter off the edge of his thigh in heavy globs. "--FUCK!! A-AAAGHH... Are you out of your fucking mind?!" All at once, the fear of his life being in danger would crash into him and leave his lungs aching and heaving for breaths while a cold, harsh sweat broke down along his forehead.

"Now, let me see... Vincent Cross... age forty-two... A-list actor. You're an incredibly famous, arguably world-class actor. Money, fame, power..." Wrapped in Orion's right hand had been a Glock 22, index finger tucked around the trigger as he raised it once more - immediately eliciting a pig-like squeal from the older man though just as quickly, Orion had holstered it along his hip carefully and reached for his belt. Undoing the buckle, he dragged the black leather out of the hoops of his pants.

"...but recently you've come under fire for the recent death of your wife and daughter. Through extensive investigation, you were cleared of any wrongdoing and the case of your wife and daughter has gone cold. Despite this, the paparazzi has immediately noted that you've moved on to a second marriage not even a month after you were cleared. The method of homicide committed to your daughter and her mother was --"

"I - I got it... OKAY! I FUCKING GET IT. Just... haah... haa... stop the... stop the bleeding, please... I'll fucking confess... I'll confess to it - that's what you want right? I'll... I'll--"

"-- gunshot wounds, in the case of the wife, but the daughter was taken down much more brutally. Rawness along her throat that coincided with markings akin to asphyxiation. You know, I actually met both of them? A lovely woman, your wife I mean. Demure with graceful features. Gentle tone and meek mannerisms but a loving woman nonetheless. Her daughter was similarly a very meek young lady. Hardly spoke and kept her head lowered at all times. They had filed a report about domestic violence that was promptly thrown out by the records. Polite, yes... but their actions fell in line with how domestic abuse victims acted. Rather, I'm quite confused about something." SNAP. Curling the belt around his wrist, Orion would pace his way over to the man from behind and slowly draped the leather over the line of his neck, enough that the buckle would be lined up just right with his trachea. Slowly, the leather would start to constrict and the garbling pleads, begging, and whining of the older man would coincide with tears and snot running down his features. Thoroughly unsightly... but Orion adored looks like that the most.

"Mr. Cross... why did you not just divorce your wife and leave? Was it greed? Did you hate the idea that she would no longer be under your thumb? That your hard-worked money would be given to her? That people would see you as some sort of deadbeat father and husband? So many options... so many outcomes... and each one would have been better than taking their lives. What a foolish thing you've done... it would have been a drop in the bucket for you... but they were just so fucking disposable, weren't they? Like scraps off a plate... you're rich? Powerful? Those things don't matter to me, Sir. I wonder what your daughter felt as she slowly lost the air in her lungs..."

CLENCH.

"Why is this happening to me?"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"Why is my own father choking me out?"

"Help, please help me!"

CLENCH.​

Despite the man's struggling and babbling, the leather belt around his throat - curled tight around the detective's fist would only yank further along his windpipe. Slowly, those cracked lips turned a bluish shade and the thrashing would start to cease. Gradually, the redness in his facial features would start to vanish to instead be replaced by an empty, pale shade once his eyes rolled back into his skull and the drool hooked along the edge of his lips trickled down over his chin. Falling backwards in a lax, unresponsive manner. Four minutes until permanent brain damage. Six until the body begins to die. Orion held that tight vice-grip for twelve.

Just to make sure.

Allowing the belt to fall slack over the man's shoulders, Orion would finally take one deep inhale to steady himself. Moments like these were most saccharine of all. Now, the hard part. To clean up this garbage and ensure that no one found him ever again. Making his way past the chair, his hand would briefly swipe at the nearby coat hangar to tug off his dark trench coat before slinging it over his shoulders. Exiting outside of the door and out of the hallway adjacent to him would reveal all around him... miles upon miles of forestry. An abandoned building far off the grid. The type of place that was difficult to even reach. "Brrr... Autumn is getting a little cold. Now then..."

​

---

---

Five Weeks Later​

"Now, now - Mr. Mittens... discipline is rather important. Gorging yourself on your breakfast will merely make you throw it all back up..." Soft, deeper hums coaxed the cat pushing up against his chest to be a little less needy with his feeding requirements. Early morning on a Monday, the sight of his well-organized apartment would gradually be illuminated by the morning rays of that day. Already, his black and white shorthair, Mr. Mittens, was curling up along his bed begging to be fed. Orion's routine for the day had always been a constant. Wake up early, preferably around 6AM though sometimes he felt indulgent and allowed himself to sleep until 7AM.

One cup of coffee and some toast while he watched the news.

After a shower and brushing his teeth, he'd head out to the station for that day.

Once Orion had filled his cat's food bowl, he set himself down in the kitchen to flick over to the news channel before bringing the coffee to his lips. Overly sweet, just the way he loved it.

"Temperatures are cooling down finally after a scorching hot Summer! We are looking at a high of fifty-five degrees on this lovely Fall evening, so remember to take a light jacket. While there are forecasts of mild showers, there is not a high likelihood that it will rain today but better to be safe than sorry. Regarding the recent disappearance of A-List celebrity Vincent Cross, authorities have found a supposed lead pertaining to involvement with some dangerous gangs in the area that may have been involved in the disappearance of Mr. Cross. All of this follows the tragic and heartbreaking loss of his wife and daughter at a homicide incident - God bless their souls. We will keep our viewers notified on any more updates regarding this case. Now, I will hand it off to --" ZZZZT. Tapping the TV remote, he would set the screen to a silent black before getting up and off his seat in the kitchen to return to the closet by his doorway so he could pluck out a coat.

Pausing by the doorway to slip his feet into a pair of dress shoes, he would finally head out for the day - but not before peeking in through the crack in the door to call back...

"I'm leaving for the day, Mr. Mittens! Don't misbehave. I'll have to discipline you if you do~" Right before a delight little mewl would leave the young cat's mouth and with it, Orion would lock the door before heading out for work.

---

Orion Locke.

Twenty six years old.

After a mere three years of serving as a police officer, he had applied for the role of an investigator before spending another two years as a homicide detective. A man whom was incredibly efficient at his work -- but it hadn't been because of that cutthroat, brutal approach to investigating. No, around the station he was applauded as being a charismatic, friendly detective that could make even the most stone cold of slaughterers open up and treat him as their dearest friend. Polite mannerisms, a sweet smile, that disarming aura that would make even the most heinous of crimes be spoken to him as if the criminals were merely breathing air. That was the type of person that Detective Locke had been. Beloved by his coworkers and effective at his work... but a man that lied through his fucking teeth about who he truly was.

"Mr. Locke, Sir! Regarding the case of Ms. Valentine -"As he entered the police station through the front door, one of the officers, a middle-aged woman with her brunette hair wrapped tight in a bun and a clipboard against her chest would hurry up to him. "- although her case has been closed for some while, she has returned to the station once again citing concerns about her own safety. We were hoping that you would be able to talk her down and make her go home, since you built rapport with her prior?" Alice Pon Valentine. An unfortunate case of a small fish in a massive ocean. Quietly, Orion's eyes scanned over the rest of the lobby of the police station to take note of the people there. Good. No one to worry about. A handful of officers, but no citizens waiting along the lobby. Faintly, a look of relief settled over his features and he would finally nod to his coworker before flashing that charming, softer smile. "Of course, Officer Yang. Which room is she in right now and how long has she been here?"

Walking alongside the officer, his coworker would escort him to one of the interrogation rooms and then motion over it with her hand. "This one right here, Mr. Locke. She's been here for approximately an hour. We've told her many times before that her case has already been processed and worked on... but she's very... well - unsatisfied with the conclusion, to put it politely. I sympathize, but there's really not much we can do at this point. If you could just explain to her and get her to leave, it would be a great help to everyone here." Rather than entering the room right away, Orion would briskly move past the officer to make his way into the communal kitchen in the police station - grabbing a mug and dipping it underneath one of the dispensers. A dark, frothier brown fluid would pour into the mug with the faint hint of steam spilling off of it. Soon after, he would dip two packets of sugar along the drink to raise it off the counter before making his way back to the room.

"It'll be just a few moments, Officer Yang. Please make sure we are undisturbed. There is no need for anyone to overlook this either, so feel free to go on your way. I know working the graveyard shift can be quite difficult." Smiling polite as ever, he would assure the office he required no help... right before opening the door and treading into the room. Cozy-hued floors and walls, a cushioned seat. Disarmingly inviting, a room that made individuals feel as if they were not in trouble. Seated across from the table was the familiar sight of that slender, short ginger woman. Faintly, a chill ran through the room. Deliberately so to make the interrogations a little more cutthroat - not that she was here for an interrogation. Setting the mug down on the table in front of her, the faint scent of hot chocolate would rise to spill across Alice's nose right before the far warmer sensation would settle over her shoulders. Orion would shed his coat, right before tucking it over her shoulders and back to securely wrap her in the warmth right before sitting across from her - in the same way he had a few weeks prior when she had first came to the station. A particularly gruesome homicide case regarding a few individuals that she was close with... something that ended up being buried due to the nature of it and who the allegations were against.

"Ms. Valentine. You're back, despite your case already being processed." Words that she had likely heard many, many times already. Cold, harsh, unempathetic words from officers that assured her that they had already done everything they could to help her. Now, they were coming from that one kind detective that had interrogated her those weeks prior on the incident and what had occurred during it. Just as it seemed as if he was simply here to rehash everything she was told, a hand reached forward and settled over the top of her head with a brief caress. Warm, snug hands that held a faint hint of calloused roughness. Professionalism dictated that he would never violate that moment or two of space only acceptable for intimate gestures between family or loved ones, but he hardly seemed to care about professionalism in that moment.

Leaning back a little more comfortably in his seat, he would fold his hands atop his lap and show her that very same smile from those weeks prior. Practiced, but all too easy to grow drunk on.

"I suppose the easy solution here would be to tell you to get out. That I cannot do anything for you. That you should merely go home and cope with this. Does it feel a little bit as if my coworkers are saying something like that without explicitly saying those words? I hope you can forgive them. The nature of this work is rather grating. But, believe me... I have no intention of treating you in that way, Ms. Valentine. Drink." Tapping his fingertip over top the edge of the mug, he leaned in a little closer and allowed the lines of his smile to tug into the edges of his cheek a little further to show fainter hints of those eye-catching dimples. Saccharine and warm, just like that hot chocolate that he had presented her with upon entry into the room.

"If there is something I can do for you... tell me. You've gone through so much grief that I can empathize with. You deserve to be heard. And I will listen. So please feel free to not hold back. Tell me whatever you wish." Opening his arms out in her direction, he motioned for the young woman to speak her heart out. Clearly, she was here for some reason... though concerns about her own safety was one that hadn't necessarily surprised him. Her case. Unusual as it was - it was not the first time he had encountered a case just like it. A young woman that was companions with a group slaughtered in a vicious homicidal killing spree that grew to have intense paranoia after the fact. A few weeks after the case had closed, she had committed suicide.

...Supposedly.

Women like her were volatile, he knew that from experience... but even more than that, her case was eerily similar to that dissatisfying end with that other woman. Incidents like those made him ache and itch - like nails were being carved down his neck. Orion knew that, ultimately, there wasn't much more he could do for her if the judicial system did not pursue the main suspect further... and yet he still offered to listen to her for some reason.

Maybe that was all it was. Maybe he just wanted to offer an ear to a young lady going through her grief.

...

Or maybe not.

 

[Luvia]

It had started with a call.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

It had vibrated incessantly on top of her nightstand for some time before Alice sat up in her bed, not quite fully awake yet. She had decided to put her phone on silent mode before sleep, feeling too exhausted to deal with any more hardships for the remainder of the day.

It was one of the things she’d come to regret for the rest of her life.

Thirteen unread messages. Two missed calls.
​

A cold shiver ran down her spine as she took a look at the screen.

Her mother had never called her this late into the night, not unless it was an emergency.

Another incoming call.
​

"Don’t come to the restaurant for a while," her mother's tense voice urged as soon as Alice had picked up.

No warm greeting, no beating around the bush. Something was off. Very off.

Alice had planned to visit her parents on the weekend. Her visits had significantly increased in frequency recently, ever since she'd decided to break up with her boyfriend, a secret that she kept from them. Today just happened to be that day. She'd spent it packing all of her belongings and moving them out of their once shared apartment.

"Why—"

"You have to promise."

Oh.

Fear.

She recognized fear in her voice.

No, she was absolutely terrified.

Alice could hear shouting from somewhere, the muffled voices of multiple men, and her father.

"Who is that? Ma—And what do they want from you at this hour?"

"You don’t have to know. Not knowing is better. Daughter, promise—"

CRASH.

The sound of glass and furniture being destroyed resounded in the far distance. Her mother gasped audibly. She sounded so shaken. So scared.

"My daughter. Listen. Listen to your mother and don’t come for a while. Promise me. Whatever happens from now on—," more aggressive shouting ensued. It was then that she heard the heavy sobs that racked her poor mother's body. Alice could count the amount of times she'd witnessed her cry on her fingers of one hand; the woman rarely ever did.

"—We love you. We're proud of you." Words she'd longed to hear for a long time. Words that would now haunt her forever. "Don't ever forget."

Sounds of destruction overpowered her mother’s voice once more, however, this time, she could clearly hear her father yell in pain. Somebody was hurting him.

"You—"

Before her mother could finish what she was about to say however, one of the voices had approached her, barking, "HERE YOU ARE! So this is where he hid you. You’re coming with me to teach that stubborn fucker a lesson."

Ear-piercing crackles indicated that her mother quickly hid her phone before she was dragged away forcefully.

Alice clasped a hand in front of her trembling mouth, too fearful to make a sound. Too fearful to even blink.

...
​

---

What followed then had been the most agonizing hours of her life.

She had left her hotel room in a hurry, told the receptionist to call the police and jumped into her car, fully intending on doing exactly what her mother had told her not to do.

In the end, it had taken her three long hours to get to her parents' restaurant, some of those being spent listening to and recording their torturous murder. By the time she arrived, it had been too late. The line had been cut at some point as well, with a sinister voice announcing that—

"The daughter heard everything."

Eventually, drones of police forces finally gathered at the scene upon her desperate call. They'd found her shortly after her own arrival inside the restaurant's kitchen, amongst the remains of her dead parents. Mr. Yang Valentine and Mrs. Vera Valentine had been thoroughly dismembered. Both of them had their eyes missing, as well as their organs. Their blood had been drained completely. Their assailants had done neat and quick work of it, a feat only those trained in it would be able to accomplish. Several bruises and gashes on some body parts indicated that they'd endured unrelenting, physical abuse prior.

The happenings of that night had burned themselves into their daughter's mind forever, leaving Alice scarred with terror, regret and unbridled fury. For despite her clumsy recording, her testimony and the extensive investigations led by supposedly excellent detectives, her parents' tormentors were yet to be identified and found. Worse: They had closed their case without anyone being apprehended. It hadn't been on the news either. And the neighbors? They kept their mouths shut, as if nothing had ever happened.

HOW?

How could such a terrible tragedy go unpunished? Go unnoticed?

How was she supposed to move on?

Who was she supposed to blame for it all?

The Killers?

The Detectives?

The receptionist who hadn't called the police?

Herself?
​

So many questions, so little answers.

Maybe this was why she was back here. Here, at the police station. Here, where she'd met him; the only person who had been able to provide her with some semblance of solace throughout this entire nightmare.

Alice sought an end to the dizzying buzz that plagued her mind and kept her awake at night, an end to the burning repulsion that made it impossible to stomach her food properly ever since. The woman honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a full night's sleep.

Maybe talking to him would help. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to provide her with the one thing she'd begged for, over and over again, every night, even if it was just an inkling of it.

Peace.

Her own foolishness had her laugh at herself in a deprecatingly way, curving those full, rosy lips into a tight, bitter smile.

...


CLICK.

When the door finally opened after an hour or so, Alice sat up properly in her chair with bated breath. Would they tell her to go home? Would they offer her more cordial pity, a clumsy pat on the shoulder and hand her further recommendations for proper trauma and grief therapy?

Her heart skipped a beat.

She should leave. She should stand up, gather her belongings and leave—but where to? She was alone, and she was pretty much homeless. Ever since she'd returned to her hometown, she spent her nights in a hotel using up nearly all of her savings.

Maybe it was time to give up.
​

As if on cue, a tall, dark man entered the room. His presence stretched out and filled the entire space like the morning sun, owning it wholly within mere seconds. His aura was unlike anyone else she'd ever met. It was unwavering, dominant and intense. Surely, one had to be careful not to get devoured in its wake. And yet, somehow in that moment, she found the idea incredibly comforting.

Ah.

Her body relaxed visibly as she realized who he was.

Detective Orion Locke. The one and only person she had hoped to meet today.

After several weeks of feeling a wretched sense of exasperation that had choked her by her throat, Alice took an easy, deep breath for the first time.

Warmth returned to her delicate features, starting the moment he'd set down a silly cup of hot chocolate in front of her and draped his coat over her small, rounded shoulders. They were simple gestures, really, and yet they meant the world to her right then and there.

This was the man who, despite his best efforts being in vain as far as her parents’ case was concerned, had treated her with gentle kindness and utmost care. Alice wasn't able to remember a lot about their initial meeting, nor how he had looked or how his voice had sounded. What she did remember however, was how he had made her feel. He'd made her feel seen. Heard. Understood.

A swirl of complicated emotions bloomed in her chest.

"Ms. Valentine. You're back, despite your case already being processed."
​

When he spoke up, her gaze traveled over his frame slowly. She finally looked at him. Really looked at him.

Her vivid, pumpkin green eyes started their journey at his hands. The very same hands that, once again, offered her nothing but kindness. One glance at them told her that he knew how to use them well. He had to, considering his line of work, she supposed. Her eyes traveled further up his arms, his shoulders and his chest, which were all hidden underneath an impeccable white dress shirt. It failed to hide the strength that lingered in his evidently strong physique. She could tell that he looked after his body well—the man was big.

Analyzing him like this made her feel alarmingly tiny in comparison—though she was admittedly smaller than her peers—and hyper-aware of their vast difference in size. There was a curious lens to her gaze when she finally dared to finish her blatant studying of him. She looked at his face.

...

Those eyes.

Alice felt herself getting sucked into them.

She barely took note of what he was saying then with those shapely lips of his. Instead, she was transfixed by the darkness and depth of his eyes. They were tinged with concern for her, though there was something else in them.

She sipped on her hot chocolate nervously.

Something she didn’t quite understand yet.

When silence settled across the table, 25-year old Alice Pon Valentine returned to her senses. She blinked several times in confusion as she returned his expectant look with one of her own. "I—," her voice, albeit sweet, sounded tired. She dropped her hands on her lap as she wrung herself for words. The motion caused for some strands of her bright reddish, strawberry-blonde hair to spill over her shoulders. Its gloss gave way to the fact that she tended to it meticulously.

"If there is something I can do for you... tell me. You've gone through so much grief that I can empathize with. You deserve to be heard. And I will listen. So please feel free to not hold back. Tell me whatever you wish."​

A wave of nausea overwhelmed her.

Detective Locke's well-intended words tugged at the strings that barely managed to hold whatever was left of her together.

"I still can't accept it," she started quietly, feeling herself unravel. She averted her eyes from him, too cowardly to find out what he would think of her next. Too afraid to see his reaction to the ugliness that his kindness was coaxing to the forefront from somwhere deep inside her; emotions she'd tried to suppress due to their ghastly nature.

"How can I ever feel satisfied with the way things ended, Detective?" A common answer. But not what escaped her lips next.

"Can you really understand how it feels like?" She raised her hands from her lap and stared down at them, her voice laced with disgust.

"Every night for the past week, I sat awake in my bed, consumed by such—hatred. I still am. I fantasize about whoever was behind my parents' deaths. I fantasize about finding them, and with these hands, I..." She had never been a violent person. Alice had always been a softie, which explained her horror at her own devilish musings. "I want to hurt them. I want vengeance. I want them all dead and six feet under, no matter the cost."

It was almost comical to hear such cruel words from someone like her, even to her own ears. Her powerlessness in this situation was laughable.

Her fantasies diverged far from the truth. Any day now, whoever had killed the Valentines, could come for her next. She had heard some things that night, that were never supposed to reach the light of day. She was a loose end.

"Go ahead. Reprimand me for my stubbornness. Tell me that I'll be able to forget everything and that my life will go on. If it's you, I might believe it."

 

[Devils Temptation]

I still can't accept it,​

Undoubtedly.

Frustration was an ugly, pervasive thing that once it took root - it never, ever let go without proper closure. Orion had seen countless innocent lives torn apart, not only by the crimes that the innocent civilians faced but by that aching urge in their core for something... anything at all to make things right. For many, facing that unsurmountable urge of helplessness was too much. Some people buckled under the pressure, opting to just end everything right then and there. Countless suicides were common occurrences after an especially heinous crime. A criminal could be locked behind bars, but that would never bring back the people who were lost. They could have chosen to give into their anger, tearing, snapping, and lashing out in fury with those around them in some mistaken sense of wishing to feel at least a little bit at peace. Or, sometimes, there was nothing at all. A pitch black, empty void that came from accepting that there was nothing she could do about this situation.

Orion understood it all too well.

And, yet, the only expression settled on his face was one of warm empathy. Not an ounce of that judgmental contempt. No sign of any anger whatsoever. Just a faint tilt of his head and the softening of his smile and eyes that told an entirely different story. That it was okay for her to feel so torn up. That she was in the right for feeling frustrated, trapped, isolated -- it was a sunshine warmth that completely and utterly hid what he had really been feeling.

Itchy.

It was a little bit like nails raking at his neck.

While the exterior remained completely and utterly calm, the irritation pricking at his skin made him wish for nothing more than to run his hand down the side of his neck in long streaks. Unpleasant. It was so fucking unpleasant. To sit here, to listen to her, to pretend as if there was nothing to be done... and yet that was exactly what he did.

How can I ever feel satisfied with the way things ended, Detective?​

"No one is telling you to feel satisfied, Ms. Valentine. You are perfectly in your right to be upset and angry. You've lost something incredibly valuable, after all... but tell me something." Leaning forward just a little, he would rest his hand on the table in front of her. Far enough away that he wouldn't make any additional contact with her. A brief glance in the direction of the camera assured him that he was forced to play things as casual as possible. "Don't you think you deserve to live your life now? Free of the concern and dangers that once faced you? If you get intertwined and locked up with the incident of the past, you stop living your life. That is never something your loved ones would have wanted, Ms. Valentine." Orion assured her, tone as syrupy sweet and warm as the day he had met her.

Can you really understand how it feels like?​

Of course he had. More than she could ever come to understand.

Every night for the past week, I sat awake in my bed, consumed by such—hatred. ​

To the point that even hours upon hours of sitting awake at night in your bed, reminiscing and remembering that moment which a person despised so much only added more fuel into the fire. An ever growing inferno that consumed all parts of a person's life from their waking hours to the pathetic, lingering moments leading to their sleep.

I fantasize about whoever was behind my parents' deaths.
I fantasize about finding them, and with these hands, I...​

To call it a fantasy was reductive. A person began to salivate at the mere thought of harming another. There was nothing to crave more than slaughtering them in the same exact way they slaughtered the person you held near and dear to your heart. It was something he understood well. So painfully well. An incredibly vile, wrong emotion to hold in your heart and yet there was nothing a person could do to prevent themselves from clinging onto it endlessly. They had already lost anything else worth holding onto.

I want to hurt them.
I want vengeance.
I want them all dead and six feet under, no matter the cost.​

CLASP.

Wrapping over her smaller palms, the sensation of his broader, larger hands would effortlessly swallow up both of Alice's own - cupping her hands together and wrapping his own over top of them on either end. "With these hands, you said? These little, delicate things? You want to harm another human being, is that what you're saying? I don't quite believe you, Alice. After all... look." Dipping his thumbs over the center crease of her conjoined hands, he would open up her palms all while cupping them from underneath. "These aren't a killer's hands, Alice. From what little I've come to know about you, I know that you are a loving young lady. You were there. You witnessed the brutality of the crime. That isn't something you wish on anyone else and that alone makes you so much better than the demon that did these things to your family. Don't you think so too? It's not weakness..." Trailing off momentarily, a faint hint of melancholy touched onto his tone and his eyes went somewhat hooded while staring at her hands. "...I think it's a wonderful thing. To never willingly take that step forward and harm another. You won't. I know you won't. I've been in this industry for a very, very long time. I know violent criminals." Raising his gaze, he met her own and took his sweet time staring down those pumpkin greens of her.

Right...

They were different. Far more different than she could ever come to understand.

Folding her hands up over top one another once again, he guided them to rest on top of her lap... but something would feel faintly off. The rustle of paper against her skin. Something had been placed in her hand. With the presence of Orion's palm wrapped over top her own, however, she would not be able to open her hands just yet.

"I doubt you'll be able to forget these things, truth be told. Why is it that it hurts when we lose someone near to us? Because we loved them dearly, of course. The proof of your love is right there, aching. You shouldn't ever let go of that feeling, Alice." With his index finger, he pointed straight to the left side of her chest, at her heart. "But, I can see you have concerns still... don't worry. I will put in a word to enter you into protective custody, Ms. Valentine. As for dealing with your grief, there are many resources to help the grieving recover." Guiding her up off her seat, Orion would escort her towards the doorway of the room - blocking the camera with his larger body and finally sliding one hand over her knuckles to tap at whatever was in her hands.

Not here.
1:30PM
72-03 Newbridge St.
Apt 3R
​

"Don't worry..." Close. The warm splash of his breath settled against the curve of her ear and the sensation of his hand over her forearm washed a hint of heat over them. Everything from his tone to the expression on his face gradually shifted from a warmer, inviting charisma to a sensation faintly like her lungs were being clenched. Icy, with narrowed eyes and a polite, flat grin that looked more as if it was painted onto a marionette than belonging on a person's face.

"...I've heard your worries loud and clear." And, with that, he would finish escorting Alice out of the interrogation room. To the camera, it might have looked like he had done nothing out of the ordinary. Simply consoled her out of doing something violent and rash, set her up with protection, and finally gotten her out of the police station in a timely manner. The only one that might've been tipped off that anything different had happened was Alice... and that note etched in red ink that was pushed into her hands with near perfect subtlety.

 

[Luvia]

𝑅𝑒𝑑 𝑅𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝐻𝑎𝑛𝑑
0:00ㅇ──────── 6:13
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

​

Alice narrowed her eyes at the crumpled piece of paper which she was holding above her head. Laying leisurely on the blue couch in the room adjoining her hotel bedroom, with her shapely legs dangling off its armrest, she was moving her feet in tandem to the funky beat of a song on the TV. Her skin was still warm and flushed, heat radiating off of her body in pleasant waves due to the scalding hot shower she'd taken, just the way she loved it.

Not here.
1:30PM
72-03 Newbridge St.
Apt 3R​

No matter how long she stared at it, reading the same hand-written details over and over again, she couldn't figure out just what exactly had happened at the police station this morning—or so she'd play the part. She hadn't been oblivious to what had transpired during those last, fleeting moments she'd spent together with Detective Locke. She'd caught on right away.

"...I've heard your worries loud and clear."​

​

If Alice had to be described with one word and one word only, it was crafty. She was the type of woman who had graduated at the top of her class, both in high school as well as in college, free to do whatever she wanted to do as far as academics had been concerned. To the dismay of her parents and many who had been willing to offer her a generous amount of scholarships, she had chosen to walk the path of a journalist. Instead of pining for a degree in computer sciences or throwing herself into unraveling the wonders of science as a whole, she'd become a writer. Her work could be found in small, local newspapers as well as in the pages of a select few magazines, albeit dying. A breakthrough? She could have had many; she was nothing if not capable. A natural. A genius. But also—a rebel. And therein lied the problem. Since her early childhood years, she had been too obsessed with doing the exact opposite of what others expected of her. She had never wanted to live ambitiously, to make money for the sake of honor or to get a PhD. All she'd ever wanted was to write silly little columns about love and life, about good food and fashion. Live a soft life.

She groaned.

Right.

Look at where that had gotten her.

Rrrrrring!

She sat up abruptly, startled by the sound of the alarm on her phone, dropping the scrap of paper on her nose in the process. It slid to the carpet floor, and the white bathing robe she was wearing loosened as she bent down to retrieve it. Her heart beat fast for two reasons then. One, being that any and all sounds that chimed from her phone still affected her negatively. And two—the alarm had signaled that it was time to get ready to meet the detective.

Alice stood and tentatively walked towards the drawer dresser in her bedroom, staring at her own reflection in the mirror right above it. As she brushed her hair behind her ear with her free hand, she froze. It was the very same ear he had whispered into. She remembered his all-encompassing warmth and all the saccharine things he'd said to her, the memory still fresh in her mind.

Alice.

"Hm."

Her gaze flicked over his neat, red handwriting once more. She could pick up his scent on it too.

Although he hadn't used her name at the end, she had noticed that he had perused it, his tone of voice dulcet and deep. Multiple times. And each time, her heart had reacted in a way she thought it never would, ever again.

Excited.
​

---

3R.

She'd arrived on time and stood in front of, what she slowly but surely realized, was his apartment door. His home.

Gulp.

Wrapped in a cream colored coat and with a burgundy bag strapped over her shoulder, what stood out the most about her outfit were a pair of bright yellow boots that ended a little below her knees. Checkered. It added an air of quirkiness to the otherwise gloomy image she sported these days, a taste of the true Alice.

At last, she summoned the courage to ring his bell.

The moment she'd walk over the threshold of that door, it would only be him and her. Alone. Her grip on her bag tightened. She hadn't been alone with another man that hadn't been her ex in—well, years. This unexpected meeting was very nerve-wrecking in more ways than one for her.

In any case, she ought to relax. This was Detective Orion Locke—a paragon of everything the justice system stood for.

Human emotions were fickle, however. Somewhere deep in her consciousness, she had noticed the shift in his voice that morning and recognized the implications of what it had entailed; pay attention, read between the lines, I might be able to offer you something you don't want to miss out on. And yet, another part in her had brushed it aside as a mere figment of her imagination.

As Alice waited, she began to have doubts. What was there possibly to discuss in the privacy of his own quarters? And how would it be any different from what he had already told her at the police station?

 

[Devils Temptation]

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.​

No response.

Not even the shuffling of feet to indicate that someone had even been home at that hour. A weekend, middle of the day, there was no reason that he shouldn't have been home but maybe he could have been called in for work? Whatever the case was, he certainly had her phone number from the numerous times she had put it down for the police but never once had any number actually popped up in her phone. It was just radio silence and forcing her to read between the lines. Had she considered it for a few more moments... as to why he was even making her do that, it might've seemed odd. Wrong, even. As the overly professional, perfect detective even violating that sort of space that was placed between himself and her was something thoroughly taboo by nature. She had gone to the police for help with a legal problem.

Why was she not being helped at a police station?

Insecurities and fluttering thoughts like those might've been enough to stop some in their tracks, but seemingly not Alice. A few more moments of silence would come and go, maybe with the consideration that she should've come back at another time. Maybe had she been a little more wary, she might've noticed one more thing. The time. It hadn't been exactly 1:30PM, rather it was a few minutes earlier at 1:28PM. Two exact minutes later and the sound of footsteps would start up, not behind the door she was waiting in front of but right behind her. Sure enough... there he was. Settled in one hand was a plastic bag of what looked to be groceries. His attire looked formal as ever, a suit over top of a white dress shirt and black tie. Familiarly combed, swept black hair revealed a set of glasses that stared straight ahead at her seemingly with a moment or two of what looked like surprise.

"Oh. Ms. Valentine. What can I do for you?" ... What? The mere casualness of his tone seemed to imply that he hadn't even been expecting her to arrive in that moment at all. Hooking the bag of groceries around his wrist, he would dip one hand into his pocket to produce his keys before treading past her and slipping one into the lock. A quick twist of the handle would open the door up and he'd tack a few more words at the end for her.

"Since you've come all this way, allow me to invite you inside. Please. I insist." Polite and well-mannered as ever, turning back in her direction with the usual warmer grin of his. It hadn't taken any sort of genius to figure out that something had been wildly off about that interaction. He acted as if he was not the one that invited her to his place. He acted as if he did not expect to see her in that moment. He acted as if she came here without any prompting. Whatever his rationale might've been, it wasn't something that she would end up understanding. Orion's arm would press against the door, opening it up for her and motioning Alice to head inside in front of him.

Escorting her a few more steps inside, he would set his shoes off at the front of the door and emphasize her to do the same before finally flipping the lights on inside of his apartment.

In front of her, the fairly high-end studio would reveal a modern kitchen built alongside a living room. The larger view of the city was visible from wall-length windows that lead onto a balcony in the home and there were exactly two other doors. One that led to the bathroom and one that led to the bedroom. In all, it was an exceptionally clean home without much distinguishing characteristics. No decorations along the walls. Nothing on the tables. No mess in the kitchen or along the carpet or flooring... and the bedroom seemed similarly vacant as well.

Almost as if it was unlived in...

A pair of hands would lurch towards her suddenly, grabbing Alice's hips and stopping her in place - almost like he was going to do something to her - right before gently tucking her away from taking that next step. "Apologies. You were about to step on Mr. Mittens. He has a habit of flopping where other people are walking." Sure enough, right in front of her feet, dozing off without a single care in the world was a. house cat. Black coat with a white underbelly.

​

Upon hearing his name, he would lean up off the ground and with a long stretch that arched his body, let out a single languished yawn. Whisking his way underneath Alice, he'd rub up between her inner legs right before making his way into the kitchen and out of sight entirely. "So, Ms. Valentine... may I interest you in something to drink? My home cooking is quite good as well." Turning away once his cat was properly out of the way, he set the plastic bag on the coffee table in front of the television and started to pluck the items out of it. Phone. Wallet. Keys. ...Keys? There didn't look to be any groceries in that bag at all, instead the types of things that one might've kept in their pocket. Picking up the phone, Orion would raise it up momentarily before tapping at the center of screen. No response. It remained black.

"Oh, apologies. An acquaintances' belongings were taken in as evidence. They only recently got cleared so I took them with myself so I can return them to him sometime later." Brushing the items off the table, his tone turned gradually softer and he motioned to Alice once again. "Now.. I hope you'll excuse the strange way I've been acting. I was hoping to talk to you in private, Ms. Valentine. Something of a philosophical discussion, I suppose. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother... would you be willing to spend your evening here? I would, of course, be more than happy to accommodate you as much as you'd like." Orion assured her, taking a few more steps until he was standing directly in front of her. Arms at his side, same usual warm, inviting expression plastered over his features.

It was an odd duality.

Clearly a strange interaction - but in his presence, nothing ever seemed as if it was all that off.

 

[Luvia]

Their first encounter outside the confines of the police station started with a fright.

Before she spotted him, she'd seen his shadow first—creeping up on her from behind as she was in deep thought. The moment she noticed it, it had already swallowed her whole, instilling a sense of foreboding in her body.

'The daughter heard everything.'​

​

Ever since she'd heard those words at the other end of the line that night, she spent nearly every waking hour haunted by paranoia. It followed her everywhere, whether it was for a walk to the convenience store, for a quick breath of fresh air outside her hotel or even inside her hotel room with all the doors locked; it felt like a devious little ghost that had tethered itself to her. It tormented her by whispering wicked things into her ears—today is the day you'll be next, that lock will do little to keep them away, someone might wait around that corner for you, you're not safe.

And for a second there, she'd entertained the thought that her worst nightmare had indeed finally caught up to her. Only it hadn't.

In its stead, there he was.

Orion Locke.

As she spun around and their eyes met once more, Alice stilled. It was a pivotal moment, one which really allowed for the severity of the current situation to sink into her bones—she had followed the whims of a man she blindly trusted because he had done his job. As far as his role as a detective was concerned, the man was a picture perfect poster child, a prodigy amongst his peers. He had charmed her with his empathy and his eagerness to soothe her when she had needed it the most. Any sane person in his position, with a healthy conscience, would have likely done the same, though. Such a realization begged the following question then: Who was this man when he wasn't Detective Locke? That thought had never occurred to her. Until now.

As if to calm her mind, Alice reminded herself of why she was willing to ignore such obvious red flags. Her presence in front of his home was nothing if not one last desperate attempt at getting a lead; at attaining reprieve. Something precious had been taken from her unexpectedly and she was made to live with the burdens of the aftermath. It hurt. So, so much. Nobody could possibly fathom the pain of her regret; the regret of certain things having been said or left unsaid. Of certain things having been done, or not done. Her family situation had always been a complicated one, and yet, it was all she ever had. Now, now she was left with nothing. She was completely alone.

No matter how many times she'd pleaded and begged, her cries for help had fallen on deaf ears over and over again.

You had a lead! But then you dropped it. WHY?
Please, help me.
Please, don't let them bury my parents' case.
Please, don't push me away.
PLEASE!​

After weeks of simmering with unsavory feelings, and at times the lack thereof, her feet had brought her to the police station for one last time. And there, out of nowhere, she'd been given hope. At long last.

—Or so she'd thought.

The more time she spent with Orion however, the more she began to question every single step that had brought her here, to him. His behavior confused her to no end. Just what was he playing at, pretending not to know? Then it dawned on her that he might have done so due to the lack of privacy, for they hadn't entered his apartment yet. It would mean that he was even more of a careful man than she had anticipated. As if to convince herself that she hadn't lost her wits about her yet, she squeezed the piece of paper he'd given her inside her coat's pocket. It was there, it was real.

"Since you've come all this way, allow me to invite you inside. Please. I insist."​

It was now or never.

She followed him inside, despite her intuition telling her otherwise.

"Apologies. You were about to step on Mr. Mittens. He has a habit of flopping where other people are walking."​

The cat, for one, was certainly a surprise. She hadn't pegged him as the type to keep one. It breathed back some sense of trust in him; he had a pet, which was well-groomed and alive. She could rule out that he was a cruel sociopath, at the very least. Alice's eyes sparkled when Mr. Mittens brushed her legs. She loved animals of all kinds.

Ever observant and careful, she also didn't fail to notice just how—vacant the detective's home looked. She couldn't help but compare it to her hotel room and conclude that Orion's apartment lacked any sort of personal touch; it had nothing that gave a hint to his tastes or personality. It was plain through and through, emitting a strangely cold atmosphere. It was such a stark contrast to how he had carried himself thus far. Odd.

"Now.. I hope you'll excuse the strange way I've been acting. I was hoping to talk to you in private, Ms. Valentine. Something of a philosophical discussion, I suppose. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother... would you be willing to spend your evening here? I would, of course, be more than happy to accommodate you as much as you'd like."​

Throughout this entire time, Alice had been quiet aside from giving nods or brief sounds of approval here and there. When they stood chest to chest and he finally revealed a fraction of his true nature to her, she let loose a relieved sigh. Well—something like that. She raised an eyebrow as she realized that she was staring at his chest. Because she'd taken off her boots, she had gotten smaller, and he taller. His chest was as far as she was able to reach. It was almost annoying, the way she had to crane her neck in order to blink up at him.

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Locke." Fiery. A mean, little finger pointed at him accusingly. Then, she created some distance between them by moving to put her bag on top of his kitchen counter, turning her back towards him for a moment. With her coat off, Alice was sporting a long-sleeved, dark purple dress that gingerly hugged her body in all the right places.

When she faced him again, two bottles of wine were standing atop the counter behind her.

"Regardless of how this conversation will go down, I don't think I'll be able to sit through this evening without some help." Liquid courage. Her hips were still burning from his touch earlier. "I fully expect you to join me. Adorable cat, by the way."

Without waiting for a reply, she moved about, searching his cabinets for proper glasses to use. Her presence in his home was bewildering, her and her splash of colors amidst the gray of his studio.

"How about this, for starters: I'll ask you some questions, you answer them. First—," she started, a triumphant smile on her lips when she finally found a pair of glasses she liked. She set them down, and as she did, continued, "—why did you invite me to the comfort of your home? No, what did you mean when you said that I shouldn't worry?"

 

[Devils Temptation]

What a relief... Orion would let out a sigh once he came to the realization that she wasn't the type of degenerate to wear shoes indoors. Momentarily, his gaze flickered over towards his own pair that was set at the entrance of the home. Spotless. Immaculate. Just like the rest of his attire. Not one single blemish or wrinkle out of place in his dress shirt or along his suit. He had rigorously made sure of that. Once she approached him once more, however, his attention snapped back towards her eyes and he'd blink back just once in response to her own. A comical size difference. Undoubtedly, if he wanted to, he could have picked her up and whisked her around like a plushie. That button nose and fluttering lashes combined with her dress nearly made her seem like a doll as well. Of course, past his seemingly unfazed expression it was impossible to tell the amusing thoughts that were crossing his mind. All up until that finger pointed straight at his chest and his eyes widened.

...She's a sassy little thing, isn't she?

I'll tell you what, Mr. Locke.​

Even with her skirting around, he wouldn't do much aside from turn to face her as she rounded her way towards the kitchen counter. No attempt to close the distance between them. He would just remain rooted in place until she spoke up once more with her offer. Alcohol. She wanted to drink -- no, she wanted him to drink with her. A tilt of his head forward would cause his glasses to haze over momentarily with the glare of the light in the room. "Um... Ms. Valentine? You do realize you are perhaps a third of my size at best? Unless you have a superhuman liver, you will grow drunk far faster and harder than I will." Orion pointed out, finally approaching her once more before the sensation of his chest briefly brushed against her hair from behind on his way to help her grab those two wine glasses at the top of the counter that she found. Handing them to her, he'd make his way to the opposite end of the counter to let her pour the two a glass.

"He is adorable, isn't he? He has the sweetest way of lounging with his entire body stretched our like some sort of fuzzy snake. At times, I envy him for not having any care in the world, you know? Sometimes, I wish I was like that." He commented, glancing over in the direction of the cat with a fond grin. One of the only moments that he seemed a little more relaxed was in reference to his little feline buddy.

How about this, for starters: I'll ask you some questions, you answer them. First—​

"That doesn't seem very fair. What if I want to ask you questions? I mean, we are already sharing a glass of wine aren't we? A couple of lit candles and the mood for this little rendezvous would be radically different, hm?" Tilting the glass forward, he'd give a playful little clink to Alice's own before leaning back and letting her settle in with a few more sips before her first question came. One that he fully expected. Reaching forward, he wrapped his palm along one of the caps of the wine bottle and with a quick snap, he would crack the plastic seal off. Soon after, the cap would be stripped off and he would pour himself a glass before returning the favor and pouring her a glass as well.

"Cheers." CLINK. Tapping his glass against her own one more time, he'd bring the wine to his lips and with a few indulgent sips, he'd taste it. Sweet. It was surprisingly tart. Something that matched the profile of Alice Pon Valentine perfectly.

Why did you invite me to the comfort of your home? No, what did you mean when you said that I shouldn't worry?​

"Now which question should I be answering? The first? Or the second? Mm... well, no matter. They have the same answer." Cupping the bowl of the wine glass in his palm, he would swish the maroon fluid back and forth in his palms. With how he positioned it, it very nearly felt like he was covering her face with the sight of the wine and watching her expression distort and twist within the glass. "Do you know that sometimes, in the wild, predators do not kill their prey on the spot? Particularly the ones that slash and tear. They sometimes allow their prey to get away while they leave a blood trail behind. Do you know why?" Smoothly, that curve of his grin would settle across his features and the faint hint of his dimples would expose themselves like he was just telling her some cute animal fact that he'd learned in a documentary.

"...Because they bleed out and, in those moments they're anemic and low on blood, they start to become delusional. Afraid, cornered, weakened... and by the time the predator reaches them once more, they are easy to take down and feast upon. Why did I tell you not to worry? Why did I invite you in here? Simple..." Leaning forward, he'd press the glass down on the counter and stopped when he was mere moments away from her face. The mood brought down on them by the warmer expression of his face was devoured entirely by the shadow settling over his features and the way his mouth folded into a completely straightened expression. "...while you're here, there isn't a single person in the world who will be able to harm you, no matter how much you are metaphorically bleeding out, Ms. Valentine. And, while you are in my care, you won't need to worry. See? Simple!" Another grin, gesturing with an open palm as if to say to her...

That was simple, wasn't it?

...though he was clearly leaving something out in his explanation. Such as the elephant in the room -- why he thought she was metaphorically 'bleeding out'.

 

[Luvia]

Oh, she was so aware of him. Here, in the silence of his apartment. Here, where it was just the two of them. And Mr. Mittens.

Every little movement Orion made, every little dip in his velvety voice, she picked up on. He carried himself in such a controlled and chic way. She'd noticed this on more than one occasion. Everything about the man in front of her seemed so effortless, so—different from her. Although she hadn't seen any photos anywhere, due to her preconceived notions about him, she imagined that he came from a good place, that he was doted on and beloved by friends and family alike. How could he not be, as prim and proper and perfect as he was? With his gentle mannerisms and warm smiles, she believed this wholeheartedly. It made her envy him, even. Very much so, for Alice didn't believe that people loved her. They loved versions of her, versions she'd spun for them, versions of her they had construed in their minds. The easy versions, the easy parts of her to love, whether it was her parents, her friends, or ex, Ken. Sit still, look pretty. Her musings turned grim. Nobody wanted a girl that hurt herself. A girl that was losing control. A girl that was so sad she couldn't get out of bed for weeks. One that kept pushing everyone away. Nobody dared to stare into the abyss.

It was a relief that he'd agreed to indulge in the wine along with her, though his remark about her being a third of his size did garner him a pout and the narrowing of her eyes, willing him to read her mind, chiding him—watch it.

"Unless you have a superhuman liver, you will grow drunk far faster and harder than I will," he'd said.
​

That was the point! She wanted to be inebriated, as risky as it was, lest she'd probably grab her coat, slip into her boots and run away. His height, as well as his enamoring handsome looks, were nearly too much for her heart. He was intimidating in his own right, though also attracting her to him like a moth to a flame. Not even Alice, as deeply involved in her grief as she was, was ignorant to how her body responded to him, the intimacy of their surroundings making it all the more evident to her. Her pumpkin green eyes trailed down his upper body and briefly brushed over his fingers, curious to know if one of them was framed by a ring. None were. Interesting.

"A couple of lit candles and the mood for this little rendezvous would be radically different, hm?"
​

This made her nearly sputter into her glass, though she'd restrained it in time, praying to God he hadn't been privy to her thoughts. The detective was charming and suave, albeit a bit odd. She couldn't help it. Her cheeks warmed with the softest hue of pink, shame washing over her, though it was also the works of the wine. It was a blend of concord grape and blueberry; dark and rich, with a pronounced fruitiness and ample sugar to offset the acidity from the blueberries. She wasn't actually much of a wine person, though she'd deemed it the only proper alcoholic choice for her visit. Alice was here for business, hard business. Maybe, if she'd repeated it one more time in her mind, she'd be able to fully convince herself, too.

"Now which question should I be answering? The first? Or the second? Mm... well, no matter. They have the same answer."
​

The way he regarded her through his own glass then made Orion seem like a devious Chianti villain. It amused her, though the smirk that had snuck on her lips slowly but surely vanished as she listened to him. Predators. Prey.

"...Because they bleed out and, in those moments they're anemic and low on blood, they start to become delusional. Afraid, cornered, weakened... and by the time the predator reaches them once more, they are easy to take down and feast upon."
​

Quick-witted and smart, Alice connected the dots. She was the prey in the scenario he was depicting. She was the little lamb that was running from a pack of wolves, afraid and cornered. Why would you...? The question hangs off the tip of her tongue, a heaviness that was begging to be released. Instead, she swallowed. Despite all of her fears, she'd been living in relative peace; no one had come looking for her yet. Never had anyone followed her, as far as she was able to tell anyway. With more patience she knew she possessed, she waited for him to finish his analogy.

"Why did I tell you not to worry? Why did I invite you in here? Simple... while you're here, there isn't a single person in the world who will be able to harm you, no matter how much you are metaphorically bleeding out, Ms. Valentine. And, while you are in my care, you won't need to worry. See? Simple!"
​

The implications that were hidden behind his words took her breath away. Her heartbeat quickened.

"...Are you offering me your protection, Detective?" A frown settled on her forehead as she collected herself. "Am I hearing correctly?" She peered into the depths of his dark eyes inquisitively, imploringly.

For when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.​

What she found was pure lightning down her throat, her arms, her entire body. Jolted awake from the haze she found herself in, Alice brushed her empty glass aside. One thing had become abundantly clear, more than anything else. He knew more than he let on. He knew something she didn't—and it concerned her.

"I'm—grateful. I really am. Your proposal is a generous one, in theory." Being in his care implied that this would certainly not be the first nor last time they'd meet like this. It was actually quite impossible, unless she was to remain by his side, permanently. When he'd promised her protective custody, this was not what she had in mind.

"Who?" Her question came softly, almost nonchalantly.

Alice rounded the counter to stand in front of him again, invading his personal space. A hand rested on the cool surface next to her, next to his wine glass. The other reached out for the seams of his shirt, as if to hold him in place, to physically force him to stop answering her in riddles. For reasons unknown to her, her gaze momentarily left him to study the bag whose contents he'd showed off earlier. A shudder crawled up her spine.

"Who do I need protection from?" She asked again, with more vigor this time. "I want an explanation." Her chin, proud and sharp and completely her mother's, juts out at him. Was he implying that she was a danger to herself? Was that it? Or had he stumbled upon something during his investigations—or someone—much more sinister, whose existence he hadn't shared with anyone yet, least of all with her?

 

[Devils Temptation]

...Are you offering me your protection, Detective?​

"Not exactly... you could certainly put it that way, but that's just a consequence of something larger." Faintly amused, he gave a small chuckle and met her gaze head on. No sign of any sort of indecision or concern she might've misunderstood him. Only what looked to be polite amusement at her assumption. One that, in every way, made sense. Rather, it was him who was not making any sense. Tilting the glass back, he brought the lip of the glass to his own and finished off his glass before pushing it aside enough so he could lean forward again. Once more, she'd be able to stare dead into his eyes. Everything about him was handsome. Handsome in a polite way, however. Well-groomed hair, polite grin, polished physique... and then his eyes. The one part of his body that didn't seem like they matched. Before she could grow too drunk on them, he found that she'd tear her stare away.

What a shame...

Your proposal is a generous one, in theory.​

Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself another glass - filling it all the way up to the tip of the bowl before giving an all too nonchalant response. "If it's good in theory, don't ask questions and simply accept. Don't you think that's what would be in your favor the most?" But, of course, she never would. She just had to ask. She just had to know. It was that exact curiosity that made her a bleeding hunk of meat waiting to be devoured by something so much larger and more powerful than she had been.

Who?​

Silence. Twirling his glass once more, a surprisingly high amount of balance would cause the fluid to swirl around. Precariously, it looked as if it was going to spill at any second but it never had. That silence was hardly something acceptable to her, he was sure. Not too long after the quiet had settled in, she would make her way towards him once more and with it he'd be brought face to face with the small woman. Demure as ever. The type of woman he could easily shove against the wall, or pin down, or exert just the slightest hint of force against and he knew she would crumble. That, alone, was what made him surprised when she would grab at his shirt and some of that wine would spill from his cup in that moment across the counter.

Who do I need protection from?​

TWITCH.

A tremor along his fingers and even one along his eyelid. Unpleasant. Itchy. Of course she wanted an explanation.
The last girl wanted one too.
She never received one.

If only she knew how deep all of this had gone... but he still couldn't answer her quite yet. "The way I see it, Ms. Valentine - " Setting his wine glass down, he brushed a hand over her cheek with his thumb. Grazing down over her jawline, he dipped it under her chin to force her gaze even further up to meet his own. Did she think she had control in that moment? Did she feel strong? How fucking cute. One curl of his bicep would suddenly wrap around her waist - yanking her that moment or two forward until she fell face first against his chest. Soon after, that arm along her waist curled beneath her thighs before whisking her off her feet with complete and utter ease. As if she weightless. Small, tiny, miniscule compared to him. Only the faint flex of his forearm would show he was even exerting any force at all.

Raising her, he'd guide her onto the edge of the kitchen counter while making sure not to seat her atop the splash of wine. As soon as he had her positioned on the edge of the counter, he'd shove his bulkier body between her thighs to keep them apart and both of his hands would flatten on the open counter next to either edge of her hips before he leaned in, very nearly close enough to brush against her chest.

"You have three options here. Leave my apartment right now and push this to the back of your memory. If you do this, you will die. The second? Change your name. Discard your identity. Go to a foreign country and live quietly for the rest of your life. The third..." Nestling his palm under her throat, he tilted her gaze up to meet his own. A stare that had become so much more intense when he mulled over that third possibility. "...you pull back the veil and ask me again who you need protection from. And when you do that - there is no going back from what you hear. I will not let you leave this apartment. Or my side, for that matter. Are you ready for something like that? Apologies... I'm sure this would serve well as a fifth or sixth date sort of question, but you're a little strapped for time, dear." A faint hint of humor to lighten that ashy, bitter implication that her life was slowly slipping through her fingers.

No answer still... but he needed confirmation if she was really ready to hear what he had to say to her.

 

[Luvia]

𝑅𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑒
0:00ㅇ──────── 3:42
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
​

"The way I see it, Ms. Valentine—"
​

When it seemed that he was finally willing to be sincere with her, she prepared herself for the worst. Her eyes were glued to his lips, fearful of what devious things would spill from them.

That had been her first mistake.

What Alice didn't expect, was what happened next.

A brief cry of surprise was all she was capable of before he pulled her towards him. And suddenly, he was everywhere. His scent, his touch, his voice, his body blocking her vision. So close. All it had taken for him to claim ownership over her senses right then and there was a mere tug. Her hands dug into his shirt in protest, in the process of him lifting her, though also for fear she'd slip and fall. Said fall never happened, though. At least, not in a physical sense.

Detective Locke had shared his affections with her on more than one occasion already, in the form of a pat on the head, a reassuring hand over hers, a comforting press to her shoulder. Each and every one of them had been light and innocent in essence. Cordial, really.

This, though...

There was nothing polite about this.​

Gone was any level of decorum between them, a boundary finally crossed, first the moment he'd caressed her cheek and then again when he'd lifted her onto the kitchen counter a few seconds after. It had her heart break out in somersaults and flips. A ticklish sensation spread somewhere in the pit of her stomach, too. Whether it was from panic, anger or excitement, Alice couldn't tell. He had her feeling completely and wholly flustered.

"You have three options here. Leave my apartment right now and push this to the back of your memory. If you do this, you will die. The second? Change your name. Discard your identity. Go to a foreign country and live quietly for the rest of your life. The third..."​

Without listening to the third option, one would think the woman would say no to the gorgeous, mysterious yet dangerous man who offered to quite literally sweep her off of her feet — for a price. All she had to do was take a bite of the delicious fruit that he dangled in front of her. What kind of a price? Oh, well.

"...you pull back the veil and ask me again who you need protection from. And when you do that - there is no going back from what you hear. I will not let you leave this apartment. Or my side, for that matter. Are you ready for something like that?"​

A hefty one. It would damn her. And yet, it would let her ascend too. Not only was he promising her a point of no return, he offered her the power to make her own decision in regards to it, a sense of freedom in a world that she slowly but surely realized was made of landmines. It was cruel. One wrong step was enough to blow one's entire life out of proportion. It was a terrible balance to maintain, an unfair gamble, a task that she had already failed to do. Alice was treading in unknown territory. She was forced to choose between her life, her survival, and her freedom both. Leave here, and die. Stay here, and you might survive. Each step from now on had to be made carefully, gingerly, as if she was on a tightrope suspended in the air. If she slipped, she wasn't sure which was more terrifying to lose.

Why is he willing to go this far? She asked herself. Wondered, with a prick of jealousy, if Orion had as much to lose as she.

There was only one way to find out.

She'd take that bite.

"Do you want to know what I've just realized, Mr. Locke?"

Like he had done to her, she placed a hand on his cheek, tracing her thumb over where one of his adorable dimples had been. She'd definitely wanted to do that for a while.

A faintly sly smile tugged at her lips, still wet from the delicious blueberry wine. Every movement she did was deliberate and slow; she was moving like prey that was highly aware that it was being watched. No. Like prey that had acknowledged a predator's natural instinct of superiority. The irony within the existence of an apex predator was that, although it was the most powerful animal atop the food chain, it was also the least skilled in the arts of survival. Confidence begets arrogance. Arrogance begets carelessness.

"I've realized that you, at the end of the day, are just a man too."

As if to punctuate her words, Alice pressed her thighs together, pushing them more firmly against his hips, keeping him snugly in place. Silence followed, allowing her statement to carve itself a home in his mind.

What the fuck was she on about?

Her gaze trailed down between them and then to her right, stopping at the burgundy bag that laid on the counter next to her. She reached for it and her hand disappeared inside, rummaging, looking for something. When she found it, she made a satisfied hum and pulled it out.

A recording device.

An expensive little thing that had been recording everything that had transpired between them since the moment she'd turned her back to him in order to unpack the wine bottles. And then some. The reason why it had been so expensive was that it also had the integrated function to transfer data in real time, to a device of her choice no less. In this case, she'd decided on her laptop that was currently on a desk in her hotel room.

Alice hit a button, stopping the recording, an act which was to show that she'd made her choice. That she'd chosen to lift the veil.

She dropped the device on the counter and calmly removed a small, flat blade from somewhere underneath her long sleeves, all while gauging his reaction. The blade wasn't for show, either—she was a chef's daughter. She knew how to hold and wield a knife by heart, knew where and how to exert that one devastating blow. Granted, her only practicing targets had been a handful of animals. When she was younger, he'd taken her to hunt with him often against her wishes. At the tender age of twelve, he'd forced her to kill a bunny for the first time. To this day, she still resented her father for it, may his soul rest in peace.

Closing the remaining distance between them by grabbing his perfectly ironed collar, Alice pushed her chest against his and tilted her head up until she could feel his warm breath against her face. What he would smell from her wrists was a concoction of sparkling hibiscus and rose, accompanied by hints of crushed pomegranates, blackcurrant, mint and cinnamon. The softness that usually blanketed her features had transformed into something much more heated.

"Who."

That had been her second mistake.

 

[Devils Temptation]

Do you want to know what I've just realized, Mr. Locke?​

"Hm?" Much like a cat might to a person, the sensation of her caressing against his cheek was met with a gentle tilt of his head to allow her lips easy access to that taut line along his jaw. Nonchalant and relaxed, as if the entire interaction was merely two lovers teasing and playing with one another. A graze here. A smile there. That dainty, playful prod of her fingertips that was met with his equally as playful hum or swipe of those fingertips along her hair to catch a loose strand of hair. Delectably flirtatious and without a single moment worth of urgency compared to those words he shared mere moments prior.

Two faces.

Two masks.

I've realized that you, at the end of the day, are just a man too.​

"Of course. I hardly doubt you needed to come so close to me and run your hands all over my physique to realize that. I am, in fact, a man." Musing lightly with that smirk playing atop his lips, he'd point out the blatant, obvious fact that he was - in fact - a very rugged man. Still, he had a feeling that wasn't exactly what she was getting at. Quiet as ever, his gaze flickered along the room. No sight of anything to be concerned about. Once more, his eyes settled on her own this time with a far more quiet stare. A non-verbal... so what do you mean by that, Ms. Valentine?

The squish of her thighs had the immediate reaction of his weight shifting from leaning forward to gently pressing against her left thigh at the same time his palm darted down to press along her inner thigh with his index finger to stop here from clamping her leg shut entirely. What was she doing? Alice, being as small a woman as she was, could hardly keep him in place with just her legs. They both knew that and for now, he just played along and kept himself right in place in front of her.

Alice's trailing gaze was followed by his own back towards the bag. Silent, for now. Even as she reached into the bag to grab something inside... something he was familiar with. A recording device. Not the same one that police officers used, but one that most civilians could get their hands on. Maybe she had even expected some sort of shift on his expression. Confusion. Fright. Intimidation. No. Not even a single twitch along his brow or lips to insinuate that he had been so much as barely disturbed by what she had pulled out. In fact, he hadn't even spent more than a few seconds glancing at the device before he finally looked dead ahead back into Alice's gaze. Dark, intense eyes that held her own gaze the same as usual.

As if there wasn't a metaphorical knife pointed at this throat in that moment.

He made no attempt to grab for the device.

No attempt to yank at her wrist. Or to grab her throat. Or to rush for a weapon. No, he remained rooted right in place as if there was no threat at all.

Who.​

"Hm?" Another hum, as if he had only just then tuned into the conversation. That grab of his collar, this time, was met with his hand tucking into her own. Thumb along the junction between her thumb and pointer finger right before gently pushing down on the nerve on the back of her hand to suddenly let a lurch of pain cascade down the back of her hand before dismissively, he swatted her hand away and forcibly separated himself from her thighs. One hand swept down over his chest, fixing up the wrinkles and creases along his shirt right before grabbing the edge of his tie to loosen it with one tug of his index finger. Spilling it off from around his collar, he let the fabric hang over his shoulder while that 'polite' smile settled over his features once again.

"Should you be threatening me, dear? Let's assume for a moment everything I told you here was accurate. What will you gain by alienating yourself from the one person who seems to be your ally? Is it for some attempt at scrambling for equality in this dynamic? Darling, let me tell you something..." TAP. TAP. TAP. The slow, monotonous tap of his fingertip would leave a small little temp for her to focus on as he gave her his sweetest smile that seemed so sickly bitter that she would be able to taste the aggression in the air. "...we are in no way equals or partners. No, something like this is more akin to... charity, perhaps? You need me. I don't in particular need you. Do you understand that? Perhaps not. I wonder what will happen if you take this to the police. Will they investigate me? If so, will they find something wrong? In that time, do you think you'll be safe in custody without me? Ah, Alice..." Sliding his palm through his hair, that grin grew increasingly more crooked and his eyes seemed to light up with sheer amusement.

"...you're so fucking adorable." As if he was genuinely fawning over her display in that moment. One hand reached into his pocket as he approached her... step by step... eyes locked on her own. The air felt thick. Uncomfortable. As if witnessing a wolf growing closer and closer with every single step - he was reaching for something in his pocket and that overwhelming unease in his body language almost seemed to beg her to draw that knife all up until he suddenly pulled something and lurched for her.

...

A phone screen.

A fucking phone screen.

He stopped directly in front of her, holding his phone out to her with his number crossing the front of the screen.

"I was just planning to keep you safe and in the dark. Happily ignorant on something a little uglier but if I may... that side of you is rather attractive. Perhaps I can interest you in dinner at another time once we take out the trash? As for who... you know who. You heard it all, didn't you? Did you really think that man was going to let you stay alive after all that? No. You're a loose end. One of the most powerful and affluent men in this city - maybe this country, actually. And the very same that had your parents murdered." Resting the phone down on the counter next to her, he would pop a button off his top collar with a relieved tug and sigh. Faint hints of his pronounced, firm pectorals would expose herself to her gaze and he'd offer Alice a hand to help her down from the counter.

"It's a little early, but would you like to come take a walk with me? The breeze is lovely this evening, after all. More than that... you need some proof for my bogus, exaggerated claim, no? So... may I invite this young lady out just this once so I can pull the curtain back for her? What do you think?" Tucking his palm beneath her own, he raised her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Will you accompany me, Alice?" Hooded, darker eyes met her greens... tempting her into something that felt so much deeper and more terrifying than just some mere walk in the city.

 

[Luvia]

"Ah!"

The pain—the pain that followed was extremely unexpected. Alice started rubbing where he'd left her throbbing, groaning in disbelief as she pressed down on the back of her hand. Never in a million years had she expected him to hurt her. The mere idea would have had her laugh in the past, sipping blissfully unaware on some hot chocolate—though not anymore. Dear, darling. His frequent use of words of endearment didn't go past her head. Under different circumstances, such words would have made her blush and avert her eyes away from him in shyness. Instead, she now regarded him with a cautious glare. Watched, with a heavy dose of uneasiness, how the man in front of her slowly but surely transformed into something different. Not that he did literally; yet with each piece of garment that he removed off of his body, she believed to see cracks in his ever so polite facade. Facade. That realization within itself was quite a shocker—that the ever kind and amicable Detective Orion Locke was, in fact, just a very good actor, that he turned out to be too perfect to be true, that he was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"What in the...?"

Really — he had rewarded her act of submission with pain and another practiced smile. Alice could practically taste the aggression that hid behind it on her tongue. She hadn't meant to threaten him. In the first place, she had bought the device some time ago in case something terrible happened to her. It had been a futile attempt at calming the raging paranoia that was constantly in her ears. It was to show him that she wasn't some useless little thing, that she wouldn't be a burden to him, in her own way. Her eyes narrowed at his deceptively handsome face as she continued to rub her hand. That smile. No matter when, no matter where, it was always the same. Then, her eyes widened and she stopped dead in her movements. It was an eye-opening moment for her, an epiphany. It wasn't that the man in front of her was too perfect. Rather, it seemed that he had a strange obsession with perfection. With being in control, with no room for flexibility.

"We are in no way equals or partners."​

Alice's gaze briefly swept over his apartment once more as if to confirm the idea, then she remembered how he'd told her to take off her boots and the way he'd immediately sought to smoothen the crinkles she made in his shirt by grabbing it. His appearance, too, was always the same, with no stray hair sticking out anywhere and his glasses sitting neatly right where they belonged. He appeared unblemished, somewhat compulsively clean.

She swallowed nervously.

WHO are you?

She closed her eyes and winced when he lurched for her. When nothing happened though, she opened them again to be met with a number. She made no attempts at saving it on her own phone. She didn't have to.

"I was just planning to keep you safe and in the dark. Happily ignorant on something a little uglier but if I may... that side of you is rather attractive. Perhaps I can interest you in dinner at another time once we take out the trash?"
​

This garnered him a sardonic snort. No more, no less.

"You know who."​

Regardless of who Orion really was, the importance of it paled in comparison to the man who was responsible for her misery. The man she wanted six feet under. Orion was right in that she knew who. It was almost a relief to hear the detective confirm what she'd stubbornly believed to be true. He was finally admitting to the truth she knew was real. That in itself was a small victory to her. She knew she hadn't been crazy, and this was her confirmation. All the leads had pointed to one man and one man only, yet their wretched system had taken those leads by the root and gotten rid of them entirely. The person who had killed her family wasn't an easy person to get access to. He wasn't an ordinary man. Wealth, influence, power—he had it all.

It mattered little then that the man who had hurt her not even a few moments prior, was now kissing the very same hand he'd inflicted pain upon. All that mattered was that he was offering her what she'd wanted for a very long time, what she had been too poweerless to do on her own: Vengeance. Her body was thrumming with the desire for revenge.

She'd made a deal with the devil and it was too late to take it back, consequences be damned.

"You're inviting me out on a date?" Alice slipped her hand out of his grasp gently and turned to pour whatever was left of the wine into his glass. It was closer than hers and would get the job done quickly. "You mustn't have a lot of experience with dating, Detective." Hell, it even seemed that he wasn't interested in women at all. "Usually, you'd ask a girl out on a date and then invite her into your home."

She chugged the remains of the wine, then turned back to face him, wiping her lips with new vigor.

"Lead the way."

 

[Devils Temptation]

Was he that bad at charming a lovely young lady like her?

...

No, he knew he was. Up until that moment, he hardly been looking at Alice as someone to contend with. She was nothing more than a client. Someone to serve. A citizen. She could have been any size or shape, man or woman, rancid personality or not and he would not have changed the way he had treated her... up until those last few moments. That flare of her charm was the only thing that had actually caused him to look right at her and acknowledge that she, Alice Pon Valentine, was in fact a person. It was a shame, really. They had clearly gotten off on the wrong foot but that wasn't something either of them could help. The nature of their relationship, in many ways, was sick to its core. Raising her hand up once more, he pressed one additional kiss along her hand as if it would soothe out the pain along her nerve.

You mustn't have a lot of experience with dating, Detective.​

"I don't, miss. Would you like to give me more?" Calm as ever in the face of being called inexperienced, perhaps even inadequate. Orion in no way lacked confidence. Not with her, nor with any other facet of his life. Pulling his hand back to rest against the side of her thigh, he'd lean in once more with another amused rumble. "Oh please, Ms. Valentine... had I been given the choice I would, at the very least, invite you onto two whole dates before bringing here. Unfortunately, there's quite a few rats in this city so I cannot particularly spare you a modest pace. My apologies. Such a shame!" Shrugging, that nonchalant, smug grin settled over his features as if there was nothing that could have been done about it... despite the fact that the way it panned out was ultimately in his favor, had he truly been as interested in her as he let himself off to be.

Hard to tell with a man like him.

Lead the way.​

"You don't want to be sober to experience my attempts to woo you?" He joked, exiting the apartment behind her. For a brief few moments he'd make sure everything was in its proper place. Front door locked, the kitchen counter cleared, and even that plastic bag of belongings saddled underneath the table and out of sight. Once set, he accompanied right by Alice's side choosing to walk right next to her instead of in front of her to lead her somewhere or behind her as if he was watching her every move.

Outside, the faint chill of Autumn weather would brush past them despite it being fully bright outside. 2PM on a weekend, streets filled with crowds that the two of them could mesh right into the moment they stepped into a busy street. "Come here. You're small so I'm afraid I might lose you in the crowd." Orion called, sliding his palm down along the back of Alice's own to dip her hand into the open palm of his own. Large and broad, just as every part of him had been with that faintly calloused feel as if he had been in harder labor for some part of his life. A tug had her nestled right against his side and he'd weave her through the crowd a little further until finally they arrived at a more quiet stretch of street.

"What type of upbringing did you have, Alice? You strike me as the type of child that was a troublemaker when you were little, just to develop into a more reserved young lady with that edge of mischief. Is my head's fantasy about you correct or did I hit a homerun and miss every detail?" Even after they left the crowd, his hand still remained on hers. In fact, his grip only seemed to tighten that much more. Their brief walk would conclude with him finally escorting her to a nearby café down the street.

Hints of those auburn leaves hung along a pretty little section of trees along the side of the café, dying it in a cozy Autumn feel. Orion would take a few moments to survey how busy it was before finally deciding on the spot. A quiet little table by the side of the café where that faint hint of mocha and coffee was just faintly lingering in the air and the noise of people quietly chatting offered a veiled backdrop of noise to cover whatever the two of them had been doing.

"Welcome! Is it just you two? Can you get either of you started with something?" Immediately joining them had been a freckled strawberry blonde with a preppy smile across her softer features. White apron tucked over a black blouse and a menu in her hands to offer to the two of them though Orion would just hand it over to Alice. It was a run of the mill, usual sort of cafe place that specialized in drinks with some light breakfast items here and there.

"One mocha for me. Five spoons of sugar too, please." ...Five? The waitress would look confused for a moment before giving him another polite smile and quickly clarifying -

"Oh, Sir. It already comes with milk and cream, five would make it very sweet." He must have not been from here, she assumed - to which he just reclarified, this time with the edges of his smile stretching a little higher. A faint hint of annoyance. Only Alice who had seen the small variations in his expression would've even been able to sniff it out though.

"I'm aware. I prefer it that way. Five spoons, please." Absurdly sweet... and surprising coming from a man who seemed so ice cold that it felt as if he should have been drinking a straight espresso with no sugar whatsoever. Reluctantly, the waitress would take both of their orders before heading back inside - to which Orion would fold his hands atop the table to look upon Alice once more.

"3AM and 3PM are two points where this city is least busy. We'll spend about an hour here getting a little more... cozily acquainted and then we can go on that 'walk' I promised you. I hope you don't mind me keeping you here like this, though. I'm a little bit of a romantic sap, you see. I like long, quiet walks where it's just you and I." Liar. He lied through his fucking teeth. With that inhumanely charismatic grin of his. It was clear if one read between the lines... he was just waiting for when the city was a little less busy so there would be less wandering eyes for wherever he was planning on taking her.

 

[Luvia]

"You don't want to be sober to experience my attempts to woo you?"​

"Nope." Her reply came lightning fast. Whether she had flat-out rejected him because she wasn't interested in him in that way, or because she was very much so and feared for her sanity, Alice didn't let on. This whole interaction had been bizarre and mind-boggling. Despite her gut telling her to run for the hills and to entertain the idea of taking on a new identity just as he'd suggested earlier, she followed him.

She went on that walk with him.

As they began to move through the streets side by side, she zoned out for a bit, allowing for the severity of the current situation to sink in, mentally retracing her steps. She had sought out a man she barely knew because—...? What exactly? She had confessed to him that she was obsessed with murdering an incorrigibly evil bastard, and instead of being appalled by her, he had responded in kind? In an encouraging way? She peered up at him from time to time, pondering. Why had a man who had sworn to uphold the law, a man who had sworn an oath, agreed to do something for her, that stood in clear opposition to the very foundations of said oath? What was he thinking? What were his motives? Was it really mere charity? If so, he was either incredibly kind or incredibly crazy. 'I was just planning to keep you safe and in the dark. Happily ignorant on something a little uglier.' What had changed his mind? She had so many questions.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the surge in people, slowing her in her steps. When she felt his hand around hers however, Alice returned to the here and now.

Hmm, warm.

One moment he was threatening her, the next he was gently guiding her. The continuous, rapid switch in attitude had her reeling.

"What type of upbringing did you have, Alice? You strike me as the type of child that was a troublemaker when you were little, just to develop into a more reserved young lady with that edge of mischief. Is my head's fantasy about you correct or did I hit a homerun and miss every detail?"
​

A shiver ran down her spine. That voice. She could listen to him for hours on end.

"So you're fantasizing about me now, Detective?" A smug smirk crept on her lips. She shook her head. "I was quite an adorable child, actually. You'll have to find out for yourself though, just how much of a troublemaker I am." He was in for a wild ride. "And you?" Her smirk deepened. "Were you born with your hair slicked back like that?" A tease; she'd never seen him sport another look.

When they'd arrived at the coziest café she'd been to in a while, she made a small noise of approval, evidently very pleased. Ever since that incident, she hadn't stepped a foot outside her hotel room except for whenever she needed to buy necessities. Although enthused, she was also evidently confused, since he'd promised to show her 'evidence'. Not yet, she gathered. She was willing to be patient. The day was still too young to jump to conclusions. She'd play this little game of his.

His strange exchange with the waitress didn't go unnoticed either. Hell, she'd reacted in the same way the blonde did, the only difference being that Alice wasn't as subtle in masking her disbelief concerning his five spoons of sugar. Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. The man had the sweet tooth of ten young children combined. It was not normal. She ordered a green tea with honey for herself and leaned forward in her chair, expectant.

"I hope you don't mind me keeping you here like this, though. I'm a little bit of a romantic sap, you see. I like long, quiet walks where it's just you and I."​

That smile again. Rather than return the grin he was nearly blinding her with, Alice's eyes narrowed warily at him, though her posture was relaxed, with her elbows resting on the table, her face in her hands.

"You barely even know me, Mr. Locke," she chided in a no-nonsense manner, calling him out on his bullshit, still reluctant to call him by his first name. It unnerved her, no, nearly annoyed her that he kept on saying things he didn't mean. That he smiled, although he didn't feel like it. It was apparent in the way his smiles never reached his eyes.

Disregarding the odd way he behaved and considering his looks alone, she was embarrassed to admit it, but he was exactly her type. Maybe this was why, instead of feeling repulsed or at the very least put off by him, she found herself intrigued. What would it take to wipe those fake smiles off of his face? What could she do to unveil him, to force him to take off his mask and to show her some real emotions? The conundrum that was Orion Locke not only spoke to her as a woman, but also to her as a journalist. She was curious by nature and attracted to the unknown, the unsolved, the unexplainable. She was suddenly starved with the urge to get under his skin, to get closer to the real him that was lurking right underneath the perfect persona he'd created for himself. She was so sure of that.

"For someone who's not very experienced with dating, you're rather flirtatious. You're quite popular with the ladies too." As if to confirm what she was saying, she caught two young women talking in hushed, excited tones a few tables away from them, trying to steal a few glances at the detective. She'd noticed the very same behavior in some women on their walk to the cafe too.

"You're either a liar or a damn unicorn." Then, as if she'd been enlightened, her expression changed from wary to surprised, as if an unexpected realization hit her. One of her perfectly manicured hands went flying to her mouth that had curved into an 'o'. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Are you into men?" A pause. She gasped. "Maybe a virgin?" The blueberry wine was certainly fulfilling its intended purpose; it made her bolder and undoubtedly more unhinged. She involuntarily recalled the way he'd pushed her up on his kitchen counter and nearly immediately regretted that last question. Those weren't the moves of someone completely inexperienced. She started to fan herself, feeling extremely hot. Was the temperature rising or was it just her?

 

[Devils Temptation]

You barely even know me, Mr. Locke,​

An astute, valid observation... but it hadn't exactly been true. While it was the case that he hardly knew her on an intimate basis, he had seen far more into her life than most people ever had... or likely ever would. It was he who investigated everything there was to know about the Valentines. It was he who compiled everyone they interacted with, knew, or had crossed. It was he who had painted that picture about who might have targeted them. So many points of contention in her momentary sass and yet the only way he responded to it was that polite smile she hated oh so much and an equally as mild chuckle that left his lips. Infuriating to her, perhaps, but it had become a regular habit for him to constantly keep her at the end of his sleeve and not one single millimeter closer.

"You're staring at me rather intensely, Alice. You're going to make me blush at that rate." Could it have even been possible to sound any less convincing than he had in that moment? Not one single flicker of a flush had ever so much as crept against his neck and no matter what words she seemed to say to him or how mean or sassy she was to him he seemed to brush it off with the occasional grin or laugh like he was dealing with something so minor and inconsequential. He hadn't been outwardly impolite, but his mannerisms seemed to bleed some hint of that purposeful taunting. Even as he sat there, eyes locked onto her own, under the scrutiny of her gaze there was not the slightest hint of concern in him whatsoever.

For someone who's not very experienced with dating, you're rather flirtatious.
You're quite popular with the ladies too.
​

"Am I? Are you jealous, perhaps? We aren't dating, you know. It seems like an odd thing to bring up." Shifting his right hand against his cheek, he'd sweep his gaze over the rest of the cafe. A few moments was all it took for his eyes to glance on both girls that Alice had been thinking about in that moment and without so much as breaking a sweat, he would simply shrug and state - "I hardly know what you're talking about. Ms. Valentine." Like hell he didn't. Reaching forward, his hand would brush over the top of her own. "Either way, it hardly matters, does it? You're the woman I'm giving my attention to right now. There's no need to worry about how popular or unpopular I am."

You're either a liar or a damn unicorn.​

Bingo.

Orion's mouth opened for another one of his comments just for her to lean in and whisper something to him under her breath. An incredibly reasonable, intelligent assumption based on the facts she knew - that he was either into men or completely inexperienced with women. Perfectly reasonable thoughts given everything she had known about him so far--

...

That regret in her was completely warranted because before she could pull away, his hand would tighten over the top of her palm and he would lean forward in turn right until he was nearly eye to eye with her. A singe finger's width between their lips, at most. "What do you want to hear? That, if given the opportunity, I would fuck you? Would hearing that give you some hint of relief? Validation? What do you really want here, Alice?" Vulgarity. It felt so foreign on the lips of a man that seemed to be the epitome of good. As if he could do no wrong. Someone who never cursed nor bore any ill will to anyone else. That low, husky growl out of his mouth absolutely assured anyone that he was very much a hot-blooded man. Just as it felt like he would claim her lips right then and there, a fingertip would brush against the crease of her lips and he would pull back with a small shushing noise leaving his lips.

"I am a gentleman, Ms. Valentine. Of course I would be modest and polite around a lovely young lady like you!" There it was again. That cheek to cheek grin. That moment of heat seemed to vanish just as soon as it came and as if right on cue, the waitress would also return with their drinks. For a man who dropped an entire sugar factory into his cup, there hadn't been a single moment of hesitation before he brought the steaming hot mocha latte up to his lips and took a sip. "Blegh. Needs more sugar..." Had he been clinically insane? Setting the cup back down, he would turn to face her again with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

"Though, all the fun and games aside - I am legitimately interested in you. It does hurt me a tiny bit when you hardly take me seriously. Should I be more aggressive with you, Alice? A woman as soft looking and small like you are won't be able to handle getting all roughed up by me, you know?" Picking up the spoon on the side of the table, he proceeded to drop another spoon... or two into his drink before stirring.

 

[Luvia]

What was it with them and tables? Time and time again, the both of them found themselves sitting on opposite ends, looking at each other, sizing up one another. While he would constantly keep her at a certain distance with the things he said and the way he carried himself for the most part, Alice noted how his hands would always find their way to her regardless. This man indeed and quite literally couldn't keep his hands off of her. She would have smirked upon such a realization, though she wasn't given a single moment to react properly. Again, he used his incredible strength to extinguish whatever distance was between them, bringing their faces closely together. Her lips had parted in surprise in the process and her gentle green eyes widened. He was getting bolder and bolder with her, even in public. She wasn't the jealous type at all, or at the very least, she'd never been so with her ex-boyfriend. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction when she registered that the two ladies she'd mentioned gasped in shock and looked away when Orion grabbed her. Her mind raced, scrambling to figure out what happened. Had she upset him? Did he feel embarrassed? Had she guessed correctly?! Her gaze dropped to his mouth, waiting, wondering, praying. There was something sinfully delicious about the sparks she felt wherever he touched her. Please don't be into men.

"What do you want to hear? That, if given the opportunity, I would fuck you? Would hearing that give you some hint of relief? Validation? What do you really want here, Alice?"​

"Hm?" This time, like a confused puppy, it was her turn to tilt her head at him questioningly. Huh...? Eh? What? He had said—what?

The full force of the intensity behind his words hit her like a truck and took her breath away. She felt so shocked, she didn't know whether she wanted to slap him or find out what his lips tasted like right then and there. God, he was confusing her.

"I am a gentleman, Ms. Valentine. Of course I would be modest and polite around a lovely young lady like you!"​

He—what now? She was too stunned to speak. Alice remained quiet, allowing herself to process what she'd just heard. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That single word echoed inside her head. Him and her? Unholy images started to unfold inside her mind.

"I think you misunderstood someth—," she started, but was interrupted by the waitress. She cleared her throat, accepting her tea with a small nod of her head, not moving to drink it however as the preppy blonde left them to their own devices again.

She looked at Orion with a wholly new lens to her gaze. All of a sudden, she felt ten times, no, twenty more abashed in his presence.

He was interested in her? As a woman, and not as a client? Why had she never entertained that possibility?

...

No, she knew why. To her, before their meeting today, he had represented everything she thought she was never able to be or embody - goodness, he was capable, a stickler for rules, an endless source of kindness and understanding for those around him. If it was him in her place, maybe her parents wouldn't have died. Maybe, they would have never become estranged, but be happy. Together. She wasn't able to imagine herself in an intimate relationship with a man like that, her, the black sheep of her family. That is also why she would have never expected for the detective to see her in such a light, one of want and desire.

She crossed her legs, bumping into one of his knees with a boot under the table. Whoops.

"Do me a favor and please don't call me 'a lovely young woman' again, unless you'd like me to call you 'Sir'. You are, what, one year older than me?" She held up two fingers. "Or was it two?" Her cheeks were flushed now, painting her fair skin a cute shade of pink. "I-I didn't want any validation, you misunderstood my intentions. It never even crossed my mind that you and I could—would—" fuck. She swallowed, watching him add more disturbing amounts of sugar into his coffee. Had he lost his sense of taste? "I'm not saying that you're ugly, on the contrary, I think you're quite handsome?" She raised her brows at her own words, her voice cracking towards the end of her confession. That - is not what she had wanted to say, although he was extremely hot in her eyes. She wanted to facepalm herself.

She had to probe into this further, trying her hardest not to imagine him doing exactly as he was suggesting, roughing her up, with one hand in her hair and the other pushing a finger or two in her mouth.

She raised her chin a little, with an edge of defiance. Get your shit together, Valentine. "You don't know what I'm made of," she stated. "Anyway, let's say you are interested in me - since when? And why? What about me appeals to you? If you're telling the truth, you'll be able to tell me this." She couldn't quite distinguish his truths from his lies just yet. For what it was worth, perhaps he was just pulling her leg again. She was, after all, only starting to get to know a more devious side to him.

 

[Devils Temptation]

Do me a favor and please don't call me 'a lovely young woman' again, unless you'd like me to call you 'Sir'​

A brief twinge of his lips struggling not to break into a smile. Nothing was quite as amusing to him as her not realizing that he would, in fact, have loved for an uppity woman like her to call him that. It was nearly a game of cat and mouse - the two simply waiting to see who would defer to the other first. Still, Orion kept his mouth shut and just turned his gaze back to the mocha in his palm. Had he bothered to look at her too much, he'd feel that compulsive urge to tease those flushed cheeks and that all too adorable way she tried to keep face despite being so clearly flustered. "Interesting. Is that why you keep ogling me when I do mundane tasks like push a loose strand of hair behind your ear or grab your hand to take you out from a crowded area. I never thought you to be such a carnal woman, Alice... thinking of those things so readily." As if his only thought was wholesome and pure, sweet touches along her hands or caresses over her cheek. It wouldn't be too off the mark for her former idea of him. A man that could do no wrong and think no wrong. Pure as freshly fallen snow.

In a lot of ways, they were both learning that neither of them knew much about the other -- truly knew much about the other, anyways.

You don't know what I'm made of,​

"You're right. I don't. But it is my job to read people, Alice. I might not know them on a personal or intimate level and I might not know the fine details about their life... that's not my purpose. The only thing I need to know is how they might react when their back is to the wall. When they're cornered. Afraid. Fighting for their lives. To what extent they might push themselves. Those dark, ugly, and intrusive thoughts. I don't know what you're made of? Correct. But I have a hunch as to how you might handle something like that." Leaning back on his seat, he set his coffee down and lock his eyes with Alice's own in a faint moment of silence. A stare down. Not nearly as intimidating as that unnerving first experience at the counter but heavy in every way imaginable. "...Oh, you'd be delectable - wouldn't you? What a sweetheart." As if that defiance actually excited whatever fantasy was coursing through his mind in that moment. Or maybe there was none at all. Maybe he was just taunting her again into exposing herself.

Did he know what she was craving mentally? If he did, he remained as calm and collected as ever. How much would it really take to make that wall crack or chip?

Anyway, let's say you are interested in me - since when? And why? What about me appeals to you?​

"Come here. Now." Tap. Tap. Tap. The edge of his fingertip once more started to tap down on the corner of the table. It hadn't been a nervous tic. It was an interrogation tactic. To make the person sitting opposite him feel a sense of growing impatience in the air. Orion would gesture Alice to extend her hand forward, right before his own broader palm wrapped over the top of her own and gave it a delicate squeeze. "I always thought you were a very beautiful woman, Alice. That much is a given, no? You take exceptional care of yourself. Dainty, but with a rather fierce vibe. I do especially love your hair - they remind me of a pleasant little auburn crackle of a fireplace on a cold night. Fiery, but warm nonetheless. I do love your eyes, wide and soft and like these big glimmering jades. You have so much color compared to me - have you noticed? Maybe not. You're small. Adorably so. I could sweep you up in an embrace easily and there isn't one single thing you would ever be able to do about it - you might thump your fist on my chest but you'd more or less be forced to go along with it."

To which he would trail off. He still hadn't particularly answered her question. All up until that point, it was all physical. A physical attraction. Anyone could have that with a person - it was hardly worth commenting on so excessively but maybe it just reinforced the idea that he just wanted to sleep with her.

"You and I, Alice. We don't particularly have a place to belong to. I haven't had one for a while, really. In general, modern society doesn't fit me particularly well, Alice. The rules, the regulations, the expectations... had I acted honestly to what I wanted, I would surely be ostracized. In that sense, I'm a little bit like an outcast." Motioning his hand out to the larger sight of the city, the residual warmth from the caress of his hand over her own would linger along her palm for a few more fleeting moments while he framed the larger buildings and streets behind him. "There was a point that you might've been able to live a normal life, Alice. One filled with the love of parents. Pursue a normal romance, a normal career, normal hobbies. But now... you, just like me, are an outcast. You can scream, but no one will hear. You can thrash, but no one will feel it. You can cry your heart out, people will ignore you. Why am I so interested in you? It's simple really..." Finishing his drink off with one last sip of the mocha, she would finally see the sight of something she hadn't seen quite yet. A smile. A genuine, warm smile. Faintly somber with those creased eyes - as if he was a little unhappy to even be saying those words to her.

He was. Truthfully, it was tragic. Had he been given the choice, the two of them would never have met at all. She would go her separate way, he would go his separate way.

But life wasn't fair. They both knew that.

"...with you, I feel I can be more genuine and honest about who I am. There's a sense of belonging. I feel a little warmer and a little more secure around you, Alice. If only just a little. You're still rather relentlessly mean to me with your snarky comments." THUNK. Twisting his hand around, his knuckles would lightly thump against the center of her forehead and with it he would get up to hand the coffee cup back to the waitress with that fake, polite grin of his before returning back to the seat. Soon. A little longer and she'd truly understand what he meant by outcast. Maybe, on that moment she had learned it, maybe that attraction would vanish entirely. That delusion that there was at least one person that could understand his reasoning would vanish with it. Perhaps it'd be a fitting end for a man like him who so thoroughly did not belong in the modern justice system.

 

[Luvia]

"You're right. I don't. But it is my job to read people, Alice."
​

That much—was true. Right. Come to think of it, there hadn't been a single moment between them wherein Alice felt the crippling need to behave in a way she thought would please him. To pretend with him. Not that she would have been able to, even if she had tried. Nothing seemed to go past his perceptive eyes. This man had seen her at her worst, and nothing but her worst, actually. Despite that being the case, here he was still, willingly, leveling her with a look full of interest and curiosity. No one had ever studied her in such detail, with such great intensity. It was just as frightening as it was thrilling, in a way. She had always longed for someone to see her for who and what she was, and yet the notion also terrified her. Someone like that would undoubtedly be able to ruin her, break her, beyond repair if they so willed it, so she kept the full spectrum of herself hidden, afraid to reveal herself to a world that had done nothing but present her with rejection at every turn thus far.

What about Orion, though? She considered this briefly. Not once had he made her feel out of place. Unseen. Unreasonable. How much of that had been a lie and what of it was real? A sliver of hope nestled inside her heart.

"Come here. Now."
​

She shuddered at the tone he was using with her. So commanding. So assertive. She didn't know what was happening here. What she did know however, was a truth she had come to understand early on, one which she was reaffirming. He was so unlike anyone she'd ever met. Instead of feeling the ick that usually made her act out in a way that stood in opposition to what others demanded of her, in an attempt to control her, he made her want to sit and listen. Tell me more.

That, he did. And boy, did he deliver.

She could definitely tell that her blush had deepened.

He called her beautiful. Fierce. He loved her hair. Her eyes.

Her head was spinning.

He was acutely aware of their differences in height as well, of the fact that he was capable of crushing her whenever he felt like it. Correction: Turns out, Orion Locke had been just as highly aware of her as she had been of him. She took a deep breath, fascinated. Was she dreaming? Somebody needed to pinch her.

"You and I, Alice. We don't particularly have a place to belong to. I haven't had one for a while, really. In general, modern society doesn't fit me particularly well, Alice. The rules, the regulations, the expectations... had I acted honestly to what I wanted, I would surely be ostracized. In that sense, I'm a little bit like an outcast."
​

This had her frown, dragging her back to the ground and away from the clouds. An outcast? Him? He was right about her being one, but him? She forced herself to take more deep breaths. This was it. He was finally sharing a little bit more about himself with her, finally tipping the scales. He knew so much about her on a surface level, yet she barely knew anything about him. She soaked up whatever information he was willing to give her like a dried up sponge.

You can scream, but no one will hear. You can thrash, but no one will feel it. You can cry your heart out, people will ignore you.​

Her heart ached at those words. If anyone was capable of understanding the weight of those words, it was her. The way he described her predicament caught her attention. Something about it told her that he knew. 'Can you really understand what it feels like?' she'd asked him once. Now she was certain. Orion was battling demons that were entirely his own, too. He surprised her yet again. Gone was the idea that he was from some sort of warm place. What had he seen, what had he endured? — What had he done?

When he rewarded her with his first genuine smile, she recognized something like companionship in it. It gave life to an array of complicated emotions in her, battling for dominance. His last confession was basically a mirror cry of her own soul and what it craved. She was completely alone now, with nothing and no one to turn to. She didn't want that. She wanted to belong somewhere, somehow. To feel safe.

She rubbed her forehead where he'd flicked it, mumbling something under her breath, sounding very much like "Rich, coming from a guy who told me we're in no way equals or partners."

She needed a distraction, something that would help her reset her mind, focus. Alice picked up a spoon and stirred her green tea, then downed the entire thing in one go, burning her tongue a little in the process. Ow, ow, ow—SHIT, that was still hot. But it had helped.

---

Time passed by quickly. Before they both knew it, a nearby post clock indicated that the promised time had neared. A mystified expression clouded over her eyes, dimming their brightness.

Alice would be lying if she had said that she wasn't scared. One look at Orion was enough to tell her that she was starting to like him. She genuinely wanted to. It didn't stop the foreboding sensation she'd picked up on earlier though, rather, she felt it all the more now, heavily weighing her down by her shoulders. She tried her hardest to brush it off, standing up, moving to pay for their drinks. Just as he had cleverly predicted, they were now the only remaining customers at the café. The streets were sweeped empty. How eerie.

As she turned to start walking, she halted in her step, looking back at him over her shoulder. She sized him up once more, from head to toe.

Ally.

Companion.

She offered him her hand this time around, waiting for him to take it.

"Let's see it, that proof of yours."

 

[Devils Temptation]

A largely polite, well-mannered conversation would come to pass in those next few moments. Faintly, that hint of tension between them had made it somewhat awkward but it was largely drowned out by the amused way Orion interacted with her. Sometimes flirty, sometimes bantering, otherwise largely polite and seemingly ignorant of anything but that date. In that moment, there wasn't anything else but Alice, Orion, and their pretty little coffee date. Orion was, as always, an incredibly punctual man. He wouldn't get up until that exact second that it was finally time - at which point he lifted from his seat and gave a polite 'thank you' to the waitress right before turning to head down the street beside her. Alice's glance was met with another polite, warm smile. As if nothing in the world was off, as if there was nothing wrong in the slightest.

...

Oh, how wrong that assumption was.

Orion's gaze fell down to that offered hand and that 'warm' smile of his faded entirely to be left with a solemn look. Hints of resignation settled along the corners of his lips and he would lift her hand up with the back of his own to press a kiss onto her knuckles. "Very well." No turning back at that point. Dipping his hand into her own, he would proceed to escort her down the street. Not too fast, not too slow. His posture remained straight and he made no attempt to make their actions hidden from the odd one or two persons that might've been on the street at any given time. No one would pay them any mind, just a couple out on a stroll. Gradually, the inviting fronts of businesses and shops in the commercial district would start to fade off into utility buildings and warehouses once he guided her into a sector of the city that was neither residential nor commercial. While they walked, he spoke. Not of anything in particular, though. "The weather's pleasant, isn't it? It'll get a little colder once Winter comes. You seem like a woman that dresses fairly fashionably. Should I buy you some stockings to stay warm, in that case?" Pointless conversations just to peddle the illusion that the two were nothing special. A man and a woman and that was it.

Their pace would slow to a halt just in time for him to reach the river that carved through the city. Fencing had been put up along the street adjacent to the river and there was a small, gated section that lead down to a maintenance room built into a water treatment plant for the river. Orion took one glance over his shoulder and into the area before dipping another hand out of his pocket to produce a key. Popping it into the lock, he would open the gateway before ushering her in and quickly closing and then locking the entrance. In front of them was a set of stairs that led down along the edge of the street to a room built at the foot of the river, elevated just enough by a concrete pathway.

"Careful to watch your step. It tends to get a little wet down here... for obvious reasons." He mused, stopping right in front of that final door that lead into the maintenance room. Warning symbols had been plastered all over the front about how unauthorized access was illegal... but Orion hardly seemed to care. Pushing the key into the locked door, it would swing open to reveal a completely dark void of a room in front of the two. The type of place she should have absolutely never treaded into. However, at that point? It was far too late to turn back.

Orion's palm nestled along Alice's back and he would usher her into the dark room right before locking the door behind them.

The close of that heavy, metallic door sounded nearly thunderous with how that impending sense of unease growing with every passing second. No sign of what they were there for. Just an empty room with panels and water tanks. Some storage here or there but nothing worth taking note of... though it was awfully hard to actually see the rest of the room without any sort of light being on. Only dim flickers from the computer panels made anything at all visible in the first place.

CLANG

CRASH

Just as it seemed as if that room was empty aside from the two of them, the harsh thrashing of something sounded from the corner.

"Stop thrashing. It's just me." Orion called out, somewhat annoyed instead of concerned or afraid. As if there had been someone down there with them... and upon hearing his voice all of the sounds went completely still. Feeling his palm along the wall, the man would flip on one of the switches and all at once the entirety of the room would flood open with light. Still no sign of what had been making that noise until Orion would further escort Alice to the very back of the room. Saddled between two tanks of water had been --

A man.

Captive and chained. One of his hands had been cuffed above his head with a standard set of police-issued handcuffs. Wounds and bruises littered his entire body, including his exposed abdomen and chest that had been lined with visceral scars. A poorly constructed gag was tucked into his mouth - stained through with drool and those sunken eyes would lift just momentarily at the sight of the two of them before falling back down to stare at the floor without any further response. It should have been her first time seeing him... but had she thought about it for a little while, he might have even looked familiar.

Not a man she would have known, but maybe one she had seen in passing... one day on the street or in her neighborhood... or conveniently in the right area when she was leaving the police station.

"You know, we usually don't handcuff people in uncomfortable positions. It can lead to some very serious nerve damage." Orion chimed with a warm grin, gesturing to the man's wrist that had already been bruised to the point that it had gone nearly purple. Releasing Alice's hand, he took a few steps forward --

Just for the man to suddenly yank his free hand up to try and grab Orion -

- but that resistance lasted for about one second. Mere seconds after that hand lurched up, Orion's foot would crash down on top of the man's hand - crunching it down to the ground in a guttural, fleshy crackle. He even made a gesture of digging his heel into the back of his hand causing a muffled but harsh scream to leave the captive's mouth. "Now, now... it's not good to get handsy, Sir. Please just wait one moment." With his foot stomping the man's hand to the ground, another hand would undo the gag over the top of his mouth before tossing it to the side.

"You asked me what I meant when I said you were bleeding out, Alice? You see... the man who killed your parents isn't a particularly big fan of loose ends. The more he leaves, the more they come swimming. So that man hired a sort of... cleaner to do away with that problem. This man is that cleaner. Usually they operate in a very stringent manner too. Scouting out their prey. Their schedules, their habits, the people they're around - before finding the best time to slaughter them. Do you get what I'm saying?" Moving a step back and out of the man's reach, Orion would pull up another nearby chair - two of them, in fact, before sitting himself across the man. One of his legs crossed over the other and he gestured Alice to sit in the seat next to himself as if they were having a nice, casual conversation with someone else.

Nothing was nice or casual about that moment.

"This man was hired to kill you. Actually, he was hired to do it legally as well. An accident. Likely in a region handled by a precinct other than my own so it could be covered up. They're rather cunning, these cleaners." The way he spoke about them made them sound as if they were hardly even human. Roaches to be stomped beneath his feet or rats to be cracked in two by a mouse trap. "But... don't take my word for it. Ask him yourself, why don't you? Who he is. Who he's working for. Why he was chosen. His lips might be a little tight at the moment but..." YANK. CLICK. Another hand dipped into the flap of his jacket and he would pull out a standard issue G22 hand pistol right before aiming it straight between the man's eyes. Immediately, his physique would stiffen and he'd sit up a little bit straighter in front of the two - lips trembling but not daring to say another word. "...it's nothing a little bit of pain can't fix. Go on now, Alice. You wanted proof, no? Go ahead and hear it with your own ears."

 

[Luvia]

Not to be dramatic or anything – but the moment she found herself facing that heavy-duty metal door, Alice began praying to her ancestors, who she was sure would greet her shortly after she'd entered that desolate maintenance room. And then, they'd strangle her in heaven too; for having been foolish enough to crush on her very own murderer, for having made it so easy for him. So, so easy. Yup.

Fear gripped her as she stared into the darkness, rendering her speechless and unable to move. The moldy dampness within the vicinity got to her and made her queasy. Urgh. Had it not been for Orion's hand at the small of her back, giving her that one final push, most likely, she would have either passed out right then and there or she would have turned on her heels and ran. That's what her gut feeling was telling her to do. Run, run, run. But oh, it was far too late to turn back.

Her body was slightly trembling as they finally stood in the dimly lit room, a flurry of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Due to the lack of light, all of her other senses were heightened. She felt like a high-strung puppet, ready to collapse and snap at the smallest sound. Alice broke out in a small sweat too, evidently feeling extremely uncomfortable, a tiny part of her hoping that Orion wouldn't notice though, like it mattered. If he did, he didn't show it, never letting go of her hand, never severing their body contact.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips at the noises coming from somewhere across the room. It sounded like an animal. If this was to be some sort of sick joke, it really wasn't funny. Not at all. "W-what was that?"

Then, blinding white lights.

She closed her eyes immediately, to protect them from the sudden onslaught, but also because she was terrified.

What was she about to see? What was the proof?

Where had her courage from earlier gone?

Her eyes were still tightly shut as Orion led her deeper inside. Her heart was violently beating against her rib cage. Ba-bump, ba-bump.

Tentatively, Alice opened one eye first, then the other. She expelled a breath.

A man?

...

A man, she confirmed.

Not an animal, but a bruised and battered man.

If she hadn't been sober yet, she certainly was sobered up now. Surprise bled into confusion, and confusion bled into understanding. An unspoken conversation transpired between the handcuffed stranger and her. Help me, his gaze was pleading. And yet, as his hand was being irreparably stomped on, making her blanch and her insides churn violently, Alice did nothing but watch. She watched, as a terrible sense of dread took hold of her.

This man – she'd seen him somewhere before. The fact that she couldn't recall where, unsettled her the most, for it meant that her subconscious had taken note of him, possibly more than once. He knew her, though she didn't know him.

"You asked me what I meant when I said you were bleeding out, Alice? You see... the man who killed your parents isn't a particularly big fan of loose ends. The more he leaves, the more they come swimming. So that man hired a sort of... cleaner to do away with that problem. This man is that cleaner."
​

She clasped a hand over her mouth, feeling incredibly nauseous out of nowhere. She had been right in feeling paranoid. Her intuition hadn't failed her. She had been right. She wanted to feel a sense of relief at that but it never came. There was no relief to be had at the realization that her life had been at risk this entire time.

She looked at Orion as if transfixed. This – it changed everything.

Just how much did he know? Just what had he been up to all along? How long had he looked after her already, making sure that she stayed unharmed and safe? Since the start? Since the very first time they'd met? Or maybe even before that? Her thoughts wandered to the plastic bag he'd carried with him a few hours ago. Most likely, it contained the personal items of whoever–this man was. She lowered her hand and buried her fingers into her coat as she sat.

One thing was certain. Orion Locke was not who he pretended to be. But more importantly, he would never hurt her. He was absolutely right in calling whatever he had offered her earlier charity. This was charity.

Angry tears started to well inside her eyes, though she held them in. She'd rather die a thousand deaths than cry right now.

Their captive, who observed her inner turmoil, tilted his head towards her, as if reading her. In his head, she was his way out. She seemed like a sweet, little lady. If he was able to get to her, maybe that brood of a man next to her would cease his atrocious abuse of him.

"Miss," he started, his voice weak, dry, which served him in trying to seem as harmless and pathetic as possible. "Please, I'm innocent. You don't seem to be aware of who you're with right now, but I swear––" He stopped himself, trying to gauge Orion's reaction to his nonsense, covering it up by coughing. Surprisingly, he didn't interrupt him, most likely out of respect for Alice. He did say that she should hear for herself. And so she did.

"I don't know why I'm here, I'm not sure what sick game you're trying to play, I would never hurt someone. Please."

Dead silence.

He continued to observe her, his left eyebrow twitching ever so slightly. Why was she not reacting? Was she daft? She kept her eyes on her lap. How annoying. Maybe he had to step it up. Arrogant bitch.

"I-I have a wife, and kids. I would really like to go back to them. You see, they're probably already wondering where I am––"

SLAP.

His eyes widened and the blow to his cheek echoed inside the room. She'd stood and slapped him clean across the face with an open palm.

Alice regarded the man in front of her with unbridled disgust, her expression pained. "You'd think a married man with kids would not loiter around prostitutes."

She remembered him now. She'd seen him at least once, during one of her walks to the local convenience store around the block.

He bit on his lips and clamped his mouth shut. He fucked up. He knew then that he would not make it out of here alive.

"Why," she urged him while rubbing her now burning hand, her glare puncturing holes through his skull.

Her question earned her a throaty, sinister cackle. "Why? God, aren't you the most adorable thing." He dragged his gaze all over her form, from head to toe, not hiding his interest anymore.

"What else, doll? Money. Cleaning up after easy targets like you is what makes men like me rich." He laughed again. "All the better if they're pretty like you. Sometimes, it makes for some thrilling fun you simply can't get from a whore, you know? I've done it many times before and I'd do it again. But you––," he stared at Orion now. "I didn't expect you. Who the fuck are you, anyway? I can tell you right now that I have no fucking idea who you were talking about earlier, but I don't know the guy. People like me, we work in secrecy. Our clients' anonymity is a prerequisite." He leaned back against the wall again, as if on some high. "I have nothing else to say to you."

 

[Devils Temptation]

For him, even committing this far to restraining someone was enough to land not only him but also her behind bars. Permanently revoking his status as an investigator and putting him far, far away from the capabilities of restraining anyone like the man that was in front of them. Once they were monitored, once they were suspected - they became far less of a threat. Orion knew that well. Despite that, in the moment that Alice was shaking and nearly tearing up her companion was stoic and completely unflinching. He had done this more times than he could count. Most people, even police, never could say they had killed someone. He had gotten to the point that he hardly even flinched on pulling that trigger. Maybe that was why it was so concerning to see her react the way she did. Flared anger, painful emotions, the type of rage that would rather skin the man alive than just put a bullet in his skull and be done with it.

What else, doll? Money.​

Entirely unsurprising. The more that man would ramble off, the more Orion would just let out a long, exasperated sigh like he was listening to a boring lecture from some professor. "You should cut the theatrics. You're not so sloppy that you assault your victims. Maybe you grope them perversely, but that's all. This isn't really personal. It's all business. It could be her, or it could be that woman we just passed - that doesn't really matter to you. It seems like you enjoy your kills to be pretty, though. I never really understood that." As if they were having some calm, leisurely conversation about something completely basic. The weather, the neighbors, what they ate for that morning. Orion hardly even broke down with a single tremble until the man finally glared at him.

I didn't expect you. Who the fuck are you, anyway?
​

"Well, of course. You wouldn't be caught if you were expecting me, no? But your tone is a little upsetting. Even dogs in the wild know to kneel when they're dominated. Why are you mouthing off? Here." Reaching down, Orion would wrap his hand over the man's own right before the sudden CRUNCH of his pinky would be bent backwards, past the joint. It was done so casually, much like everything else in that conversation. Orion snapped it like a twig and immediate a harsh, gruff FUCK would leave the man's mouth before he snapped down on his lower lip with his teeth to stop himself from making any more of those pathetic noises.

At most, an annoyed glare filtered with those trails of fear lingered in his gaze.

All quiet, just like how Orion wanted him. Settling into a kneel in front of the man, a warm smile would grace the captive's gaze and with it, Orion set the gun down by his side. Shockingly close for a man that had one wrist free... and four of the fingers he needed to actually fire a gun still intact. "I know you don't know the guy. That isn't really of consequence to us. Like I said, this entire operation wasn't at all sloppy. It all fell within legal bounds. You see, sweet Alice here isn't all that important to society. If you erase her quietly, even if they go looking it won't really matter, will it? Lives can be quantified like that. Some impoverished runt on the street succumbing to malnutrition pulls on your heart strings - yes, but society still operates normally. A powerful and affluent CEO dies and suddenly it's like a wrench is thrown into those gears." Alice was not important. At least in the man's eyes, her life had very little value. Orion understood it very well. She was just a paycheck, after all.

"I can't say that I don't sympathize with you at all. You're just a weak man being used by a power much stronger than you are. However, you made a mistake of preying on innocents as your line of work. Unfortunately for you... I despise your kind. Just like you don't flinch when killing an innocent civilian - I don't flinch when I snap my foot down on a cockroach." Another warm smile but eerily empty eyes that stared dead ahead at him. Standing up once more, he picked the gun up and circled his way around Alice. One arm curled around her waist, bringing her snug against his chest right before he guided the gun into her right hand. Stroking his hand over her bicep and forearm, he mirrored her grip along the weapon - keeping his palm wrapped right up along her slender, dainty digits so he could guide her on how to tuck her index finger just right against the trigger.

Palm gripped along the grooves of the handle and a single flick of his thumb to pull back the safety of his pistol. A single, adoring kiss pressed right up against Alice's jawline and with it, the two trailed the weapon right up at the center of the man's head.

​

"I have your burner phone and the account that your dirty money is transferred to. I only need those two to get back to your employer, Sir. So we don't actually have any need for you. I was just saying your corpse for when I could dispose it properly. But... a certain charming young lady demanded I give her proof and so, here we are." Panic had started to build up in the man who just stared dead ahead at the gun as if contemplating what he could've said to get out of it all. Meanwhile, Orion nestled another trail of kisses over Alice's jawline and motioned her index finger to curl a little more properly along the edge of that trigger.

"Rodents like him don't deserve consideration. We could just leave him. He'd never return back to this field for fear of his life..." Orion mentioned, the low rumble of his voice against her ear and the snug sensation of his broader chest and firm, well-built arm cozying tight around her waist. No. The moment she made that decision to let him live, she wasn't ready to be in these interrogations at all. He was not getting out here alive. Even without being told that, Orion knew that. The man knew that.

Now Alice was the only one who needed to understand that.

 

[Luvia]

Wishing for somebody's death and actually killing someone were two very different things. The reality of kill or be killed altogether was simply too much of a concept to bear. It was a fucking burden.

So as she stood there, holding that gun and aiming it at a person for the first time, Alice's mind went blank.

She had never been a violent person. Oh no, no. In fact, she was the kind of woman that simply felt—too much, to the point of it being sickeningly unreasonable. When she was but a little girl that had just enrolled in elementary school and got bullied by the other kids for having brought food that smelled weird to them, Alice didn't get angry at them. She'd felt sad, but she showed herself understanding and had never uttered a word about it to her parents lest they'd surely be upset. The kids didn't know better, she'd console herself, completely disregarding her own feelings in the process, they'll come around.

She'd lived her life like this in much the same fashion. She'd started dating a guy that fancied her, who had been introduced to her by her mother, out of a sense of duty and pity. He was nice to her—at first, so when he'd proposed to her, she said yes and they moved in together, choosing an apartment that was far away from her hometown, much to her parents' disapproval. Day in and day out, she'd behave and interact with those around her while wearing a mask; life seemed more bearable and pleasant when she acted compliant, meek. And then, whenever she did reach a breaking point, barely holding herself together under the weight of all the lives she could have lived if it wasn't for her damned conscience, she was faced with harsh criticism and judgment.

None of it mattered anymore though, here, at this moment. She wasn't wearing a mask now as her chin trembled and her fingers on the handle of the gun shook. Unfiltered, raw emotion was choking her by her throat.

This man had admitted that he would have killed her. He hadn't shown a single sign of remorse over it, no guilt, no shame. She should have no reason to not end him in the same way. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.

So why—?

Why was it so difficult to pull that trigger? How could she dare to end someone else's precious life? It was ugly. It was disgusting to have to make a decision like that. To even consider it.

Being faced with death like this brought her back to the night of her family's murder. These people had done much more than just snuffed someone's life and light. They'd tormented and tortured, abused and taken. For what? Money as well? No. The way the Valentines had been killed spoke of something much more than just that—they'd died for the sake of someone else's wicked sport, for some sort of sickening entertainment and fun. It had taken a special kind of monster for it to be done.

If she truly wanted to take down someone like that, she had to change. She knew that. Showing empathy and pity would do her no good. It would only get herself killed so much faster. This was simply no longer a scenario where she was merely wishing for revenge. If she wished to live, from now on, she had to learn how to protect herself. This little spiel had become a two-way street.

She tried to imagine the face of the man who had killed her parents. She saw him instead of the man who was currently handcuffed in front of her. She'd told Orion once about her hatred for him and her despicable desire to strangle him with her very own hands.

To capture a predator, you can't remain the prey. You have to become an equal in every way.​

BANG.

The sound of the shot rang loud and clear.

Her eyes widened as she observed how the man's body became limp and lifeless. His head rolled back helplessly, the bullet hitting its mark perfectly. Small splatters of blood had spritzed on her white coat and the floor was slowly but surely turning red.

She sank back into Orion's body, all of her strength momentarily leaving her own, silently thankful for his arm around her waist.

She'd done it.

She killed someone.

Numbness overcame her, allowing her to remain relatively calm, save for the heavy and rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Alice sniffled, dropping the gun into Orion's hand, pushing herself out of his embrace. She was seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack. It was lurking and thrumming underneath her skin, just waiting for a trigger to unleash it.

She looked down at her coat, consciously ignoring the now dead man in the room with them. She also couldn't bring herself to look at the detective. She'd turned into a monster all on her own accord. There was no going back from this. There was nothing that could reverse what she'd just done.

"Oh dear, some of it got on my coat. I don't—you think it'll wash out? I've never tried to wash out blood from my clothes. Oh yeah—and the body. What's the next step? I've never buried a body."

It was clear in the way she spoke and looked that she wasn't in her right mind. Panic and anxiety were lacing her voice.

"T-there's so much blood on the floor too. How do we get rid of that? I don't see anything to clean with in here," she made a show of sweeping her gaze across the room, "you presume they have bleach here?"

The more she spoke, the higher pitched she sounded. A huge lump formed in her throat.

This was what her life has come to now.

This was real.

She'd become a murderer.

 

[Devils Temptation]

When the gunshot came... to her, it was deafening. To him, he hardly so much as flinched to the sight of it. Nor had his eyes averted once that bullet made impact with the man. A straight shot between the eyes. Orion had a moment or two of surprise in the sheer fact that she was able to nail him so perfectly. "Well done." A single compliment was all she would receive in the face of that utterly overwhelming silence. There was nothing sporadic or flashy in that moment where a villain died. Perhaps there was momentary gratification in knowing someone a person despised had been killed but all of that would fade away entirely when reality set in. When the blood began to pool and stain shoes, when the sight of that dead body truly sank in, when that gun started to feel so heavy that it was practically entirely made of a hunk of lead. Nothing in any of that had been relieving. Nothing about killing another human being had been easy.

The collapse of her frame against his own was met with another brief squeeze. Before Orion could so much as mouth another word, the gun found its way into his hands and he immediately cocked his thumb along the back to yank against the gun simultaneously disarming the chamber and sliding the magazine out of the pistol before catching it in his free hand. Stuffing both into his pocket, the gun in his right and the magazine in his left, he would glance back in the direction of his quivering, shaking partner. There was no rush for his arms to wrap back around her, nor did he make any attempt to pull her back towards his side.

Oh dear, some of it got on my coat. I don't—you think it'll wash out?​

No attempt to answer her. Only the sound of footsteps approaching to bridge that moment or two of a gap that she had placed between himself and her in some attempt to grasp at the last straws of her sanity. For every step she might've taken back to pull away from him, there was another step he took to corner her. All throughout that conversation they had with the man and even their faux date, he kept that usual polite smile on his face but it was only then that he had seemed unusually serious. A flat, firm line along his lips accompanied by the furrow in his brow to settle a difficult look atop his otherwise handsome and fairly personable features.

T-there's so much blood on the floor too. How do we get rid of that?​

Again, no response. Even as she floundered, practically begging for what she had done to not be real despite never verbally stating it. It hadn't been regret, per say, but he knew that the severity of what she had done was weighing down on her all of a sudden. One final step had her back locked against a nearby wall and with it, those next few words never ended up leaving her lips. One hand planted down on the wall next to her head and the other palm covered her gaze right before the warmth of something firm locked her lips. Sight stolen, all she would really feel was that warm, soft sensation of Orion's kiss. All other senses were utterly drowned out. Ears reeling from the gunshot, gaze stolen by his thicker palm, and even the numbness of having killed robbing her touch... but Orion hardly made it easy for her to ignore his lips.

For a few moments, that was exactly how it transpired between the two of them. It had been neither a polite nor a chaste kiss. It was forceful and hungry. The type that had his teeth tugging along her lower lip on any attempt whatsoever for her to pull away - not that she could with her back to the wall - but he made it acutely obvious that she was going nowhere. A few more wet, audible smacks of their lips would have him finally pulling away from her by the point that a pretty little glisten had spread across her lips and that faint sweetness from their earlier time in the cafe had begun to cling to her own mouth.

Orion's lips had pulled away, but his hand hadn't. They kept themselves tucked tight to her gaze, almost like he was forbidding her from looking out into the room or to even pay attention to anything that hadn't been him.

"It's a terrible thing. To take another person's life. I haven't ever felt good after killing someone. Do you know that? You might not believe me, but it's true. I despise how the gun feels in my hand after I take a life. It's wrong. You're right to feel this way. So why do I do it? Why have I done it in the past?" His far larger physique would flatten closer against her own and with it he would confess something that she likely already knew - that he was a killer. That he had likely killed before this. That this wouldn't be the last person he had killed.

"Life is unfair, Alice. It's cruel and merciless -- society hardly cares if you've been wronged so long as that 'wrong' remains within its laws. I have no desire to live in a world like that... so would the easier option not be to kill myself instead?" He stated, every word letting that warmer splash settle up against her lips. Close. He was so damn close...

"I considered it for some time but ultimately, I found that there's something worse than having to live in this world. It's seeing these rancid rodents... these parasites, these dogs freely enjoying life after the crimes they committed. It angers me. It makes me so fucking unhinged, Alice. I can't allow it. I won't allow it." Usual calm words grew faintly aggravated and harsh, even the hand atop her eyes cupping a little more firmly though he hardly dug his fingers into her.

Another moment or two of silence settled forward.

There was one more thing that came to mind. Guiding his hand off her eyes, the only thing that she would see after he allowed her to look once again was the sight of his face in front of her. One might've expected anger after his tone in those last few words but instead that look on his face was oddly sweet. That pretty little grin over his features and eyes that practically shone with raw affection. "Though, with you... the unfairness of this world doesn't seem all too bad. Isn't that quite strange?" Another lean in. This time, there was no deluding herself. When their lips met again, this time for a chaste kiss, she'd be able to know that the one that kissed her was Orion Locke. Openly. Of his own volition. "Now then... what was your question?" Wrapping his arms around her waist, he guided her face to bury against his chest.

"Blood washes out with cold water. The sooner you wash, the better. Though it might be better to get rid of that jacket entirely, not because it's incriminating, but because it'll feel quite heavy from now on. As for the body... we can leave him here for a bit. The patrol that looks over this room only comes in three-day intervals. The last one was earlier today, so we have two days to get rid of him. As for the details, I'll spare you the gruesome explanation for now. Rather... we can't quite allow you to go back to your apartment now that your 'cleaner' has become unresponsive to his employer. It's a little soon after a first date but--" Pulling away from her entirely, he gave another glance back at the lifeless figure on the ground. Right. It wouldn't be too much longer until those in power started to notice that something was terribly wrong. "--could I interest you in spending the night at my place?" A glance over his shoulder, followed by that faint, sly grin of his as if this was just some casual flirting between them after something so terrible.

They were still just a pair of humans at the end of the day. It would weigh on her... but life would continue as always, along the choices that they had decided to make.

 

[Luvia]

When not a single response to her questions came and all that remained between the two of them was silence, Alice had no choice but to look at Orion.

And when she did, her breath hitched in her throat and she'd unwittingly taken a step back, the severity that was etched into his handsome features catching her off guard. What was he thinking? Had all of this been some sort of twisted test? Had she failed said test?

Her mind raced.

She'd killed someone. Maybe he'd never expected her to kill the guy in the first place.

He had said that they could just leave him. That he'd never return back to this field for fear of his life.

She bit down on her lower lip harshly.

Was he disappointed? Was he appalled?

Perhaps he'd finally realized how despicable of a woman she was, how big of a fraud sweet Alice Valentine really was. That terrified her. She was terrified of what Orion might say next, so much so that she hadn't realized that she was moving backwards, holding their eye contact, until her back hit a wall.

"I'm so--" Sorry? Not quite. Guilt was laying heavy on her conscience, yes, though she couldn't get herself to feel remorse, something she was still processing.

Just what was she about to apologize for? His forgiveness? Mercy?

Then - darkness.

Darkness settled over her vision, blinding her and devouring her in one fell swoop. He had covered her eyes with his hand. But why?

What--what was he doing?

Oh.

Tiny little lightning bolts shot through her body as she felt something warm on her lips. He was kissing her. KISSING. HER.

At first, all Alice felt was confusion and bewilderment, not reciprocating the kiss. She was too shell-shocked and couldn't fucking breathe. And, as it would turn out, it actually served her well. All of her self-loathing, the terror of what she'd done and the awfully nervous buzz that had been coursing through her body came to an abrupt halt - all because of him, because of this unexpected kiss. He replaced it all with an entirely different type of thrill and she felt herself giving into his ministrations, fast. In fact, his kiss was just as she had perceived him from the first time they met; unwavering, dominant and intense. He was completely and utterly overwhelming her in that instance, like a giant wave that had pulled her under its current and drowned her. He was drowning her in him. For those few, fleeting moments, all she could sense, smell and taste was him. He felt like a drug.

Towards the end, she kissed him back hard.

One of her hands had snaked up on his arm that was braced against the wall, resting on his bicep, whilst her other had grabbed onto his body like she would fall away into oblivion. She had never tasted such a raw need like this before, their kissing borderline furious. Alice gasped when he finally pulled away from her, her lips feeling tingly and swollen, their breaths intermingling still. How long they stood there until their breathing became normal, she didn't know.

It's a terrible thing. To take another person's life. I haven't ever felt good after killing someone. Do you know that? You might not believe me, but it's true. I despise how the gun feels in my hand after I take a life. It's wrong. You're right to feel this way. So why do I do it? Why have I done it in the past?
​

And then, then he confessed to her: His sins, his crimes, his philosophy - the latter something she'd suspected about him the moment he'd thrusted that piece of paper into her hands. She understood why he had been so reserved with her. It all made sense now. This--it was damning. It was unforgivable. And yet, it wasn't too difficult for her to understand where he was coming from. Not at all.

When his hand over her eyes disappeared, they were closed, though she opened them gently soon after. She was too scared to look at him, once more terrified of what he would say, maybe telling her what a mistake this was. She tilted her head up to look at him. She didn't see anger or regret however, relieving her. Instead, she saw something else. Something much more surprising.

Though, with you... the unfairness of this world doesn't seem all too bad. Isn't that quite strange?
​

One wretched man had run into one wretched woman.

She couldn't speak, feeling her face on fire. Even when her face was gingerly buried into his chest, she didn't know what to say, though she returned his embrace with one of her own, giving him a long and comforting squeeze.

All she knew was that something complicated had transpired. Something profound. Something forbidden.

---

SHHHHHHHHHHH.

The sound of a running shower drowned out any other sounds within the room. It was quiet, save for the pitter-patter of the water that was rushing past her ears. She had remained like this for god knows how long - with her hands placed weakly against the wet tiles, her eyes closed, her fire-kissed hair clinging onto her naked body.

In the end, she had taken Orion's offer and they were once more back at his apartment. She would have been a fool not to. And, considering all that's happened so far, it seemed that she was going to stay here indefinitely. At least, until they've figured out their next steps, until this whole nightmare was over.

The water was hot, scalding hot. Although this was exactly how she liked it, it also felt like she was punishing herself, in a way. It was difficult to accept what she'd done. What they had done. What they will do.

Her thoughts lingered there.

Us.

Orion.

They had crossed a very complicated and risky line. They both knew it.

Regardless of what happened or might happen, she also knew this now - that he was her only true shot at achieving her revenge. With him by her side, it was more tangible than ever. He had proven himself to be quite capable, incredibly strong and more crafty than she had expected. He only turned out to be a blood-thirsty killer, but hey, they all had their flaws, right?

She balled her hands into fists against the shower tiles.

Orion was someone that could keep her safe and it was all that mattered to her. She hadn't felt safe in a very long time. She wanted to hold on to that, and she would. If it hadn't been for him, she might have had one of her worst panic attacks yet. She would have been a sobbing, unrecognizable mess by now. Worse - she would have been dead, an easy victim among many according to what that cleaner had said. Orion had given her his comfort when she'd needed it the most. Again. Finally, she stirred, bringing a hand close to her face, touching her lips.

She'd never been kissed like that before. Never.

Knowing the little she did about him, surely a big reason that had driven him to do it was to distract her and for that, she would be forever grateful, though ultimately it also had her feeling a tad disappointed. She found herself wanting - more. Although he'd confessed quite a bit to her tonight, there were so many things she didn't know about him yet. She wondered then - how had he ended up the way he did? Who had been there to comfort him during his darkest hours? If he had had anyone like that then, he sure as hell didn't have them anymore. His story oddly fascinated her and tugged at her heartstrings. That primal need from before made itself known again - more.

Alice turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, moving carefully as not to slip. The bathroom was foggy as hell. She had half the conscience to worry about the terrible water bill he'd receive because of her when she finally realized something. She looked around, a towel now wrapped around her slick body. She had absolutely nothing to wear. They had decided to retrieve most of her things the next day, which is why she had ended up using his shampoo and body wash. She couldn't walk out there looking, well, like this... Or could she?

Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door, looking for him.

When she found him in the kitchen, she simply observed him at first, as if transfixed. She cleared her throat sheepishly, calling him by his name for the first time.

"Orion?" Alice tried to ignore just how much she liked his name on her tongue. "Could you lend me something to wear for tonight? I doubt any of your pants will fit me, but maybe - I don't know, a shirt?"

 

[Devils Temptation]

Risk is the price one pays for opportunity. Orion knew this well. It was the precise reason why no one, not one single soul in that city would know about anyone other than Orion, the steadfast detective. Careful. Calm. Calculated. Near psychopathic levels of planning and caution that ensured that, no matter what, always stuck to a few notable principles... one of the most major? The fewer people knew, the better. The fewest people that could know was exactly one. Himself. He had broken that one rule for a woman he hardly even knew for more than about a month at most. How fucking foolish. Those exact thoughts crossed his mind as he sat back on the couch of his apartment. Their journey back had been largely a silent one. Shuddering, paranoid Alice kept pacified only through the warmth of his coat and the snug sensation of his arm draped around her waist. When they had arrived back, she abruptly stated she was going to take a shower and he hardly stopped her.

It gave him some time to collect his thoughts.

Sitting on the nightstand had been the very same gun that he-- she had used to kill the man. Glock 22. .40 S&W cartridges. Ten millimeters in diameter. Very easy to notice and very common along crimes commit by those in law enforcement.

...

If he had doubts, there was always another way out. Silent as ever, his eyes lifted from the weapon on the nightstand beside the couch and towards the bathroom. All it took was one bullet to turn the number of people who knew down from two... to one. Grasping along the handle of the gun, he raised it with a thumb on the back of the guard and pointed it towards the bathroom door. Logically, burning all the evidence was the proper procedure here. How much could he really teach someone that spent her entire life abiding by society's rules? When would she cave? Would she tearfully run to the police one day, begging for help when he taught her how to dispose of bodies? Where to stab to make someone bleed out the fastest? What about the topics of blackmail that made pigs cave the fastest? All it took was one moment of her psyche snapping for everything to come crumbling down.

His eyes closed again.

Truthfully, he hated the dark. All it took was a few moments of his gaze fluttered close for all manner of pesky things to start popping up... and the one he despised most was --

"Orion."
"I love you."​

Ah. How he hated remembering those words... it had been so long since he had heard them and they still haunted him.

Life would be so much easier if he did not feel. If he was a merciless, psychotic killer. He would not have involved that girl. That, more than anything, was his biggest regret. What had stared as painful sympathy turned into an ugly, depraved urge. To drag Alice deeper. To guide her to savor her revenge. To bring her into this world. Yes. It would have been a mercy to kill her rather than bringing her to Hell. He could not. From the moment they met. From the moment she came to his apartment. From the moment she pulled the trigger... her journey was sealed in blood. Alice would always be by his side and the only thing that could separate the two would have been death. He would not let her go. He would not let her run. She was his.

Setting the gun down, he rose and made his way to the kitchen and almost as if entirely on cue, there she had been waltzing out of the bathroom clad in only a tight little towel. Deliberately, he would avert his gaze away from her and back towards the television that still ran on in the background along the living room. Some minor story about some minor celebrity. Only briefly, his gaze had met her own. Alice had this fascinating effect of seeming even smaller out of clothes than she already was. The water clung to her hair just tight, the glisten along her skin was perfect.

Could you lend me something to wear for tonight?​

"You just had a shower. Are you sure you want to be covered in my scent again." Polite as ever, that smile settled over his features. Whereas her internal turmoil was plastered all over her sleeve, his was a turbulent storm that raged only inside himself. Still, he had not bothered to lock his eyes with her own though he would help her to find something to wear. A quick trek over to the one bedroom in the apartment would have him pulling out one of his dress shirts. A white button down that was effortlessly larger than her and when he returned, he would set it on the kitchen table for her. "Feel free to change in the bedroom, if you wish. Though..." Calm as ever. As if the redheaded beauty hadn't purposefully strut out of the bathroom in only a bath towel. Alice should have known he was hardly immune to her charms, not after those adorable one or two moments he flirted back with her earlier on in those days.

It was odd.

He had considered himself nigh incapable of even being attracted to others. He was far too numb. Almost robotic, in a sense. Every action was deliberately made for a certain purpose. Making his way over to her, he grabbed the shirt off the counter and with it his hands found themselves on her hips yet again. One tug would guide her around until her back pressed against him. Her damp, warm hair would receive a few gentle caresses with his index finger, parting the tresses so that he could press a kiss right up against her scalp. "...since you went through all this trouble of showing me this gorgeous sight of a treat hidden behind a curtain, should I be a gentleman and help you get dressed? Come on now..." One more squeeze of her thighs, followed by him spreading the dress shirt open towards her back. "...be a good girl and drop that towel, hm? I won't peek. I promise." After a fresh shower, on her already sensitive skin, his rugged hands must've felt addictive. It was deliberate, the way he swept his palm over the fabric of her towel and teased just the bottom few inches of exposed thigh with his swipes.

Now, having pulled away, she had every option to pull herself from that little taunting trap he always dearly loved to ensnare her in. Lately... it just felt like they fell deeper and deeper into that warped affection for each other.