Candira
Singularity
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
It was so surreal. Not all of it really sunk in when he was telling her the story. She just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Christian was a trained killer. He was wanted by the police for being a killer....but hadn't he just said that it was because he'd refused to keep killing? He was having a moral crisis--he'd been hunted for having a conscience. Struggling to accept all this Natasha kept her eyes on him. He was obviously afraid of her rejection. He was hurting because he had to remember it all. But she had to know what she'd gotten herself into.
And then he was telling her that he'd learned how to feel again. Positive feelings. Feelings about love. Love? That was a whole different thing to deal with than the issue at hand. When he dropped the knife, she jumped a little, having forgotten that he was holding it at all. She picked it up and set it on the counter before following him into the room.
"What are you doing?" she asked, watching him. "Please, sit down. I just...I need a minute to let this all settle..." Natasha was harboring a fugitive--an assassin. He was in her home because she'd seen a dying man and wanted to help him. He'd proven to be caring and useful in the time he'd been here. He wanted to be useful. It occurred to her that he didn't want to kill anymore. He was interested in staying with her. In being with her, if his little speech about feelings was any indication.
"Please stay," she said softly. "Don't leave now." Her feelings about him hadn't really changed a great deal. He had grown in her estimation. He'd gone from not having a choice, being raised in an environment that had dehumanized him, to making a decision for himself and leaving that world behind him. She admired that about him. He wasn't proud of what he'd done--he even seemed to regret it. How could she turn a man away to become lost once more? "I don't want you to go."
And then he was telling her that he'd learned how to feel again. Positive feelings. Feelings about love. Love? That was a whole different thing to deal with than the issue at hand. When he dropped the knife, she jumped a little, having forgotten that he was holding it at all. She picked it up and set it on the counter before following him into the room.
"What are you doing?" she asked, watching him. "Please, sit down. I just...I need a minute to let this all settle..." Natasha was harboring a fugitive--an assassin. He was in her home because she'd seen a dying man and wanted to help him. He'd proven to be caring and useful in the time he'd been here. He wanted to be useful. It occurred to her that he didn't want to kill anymore. He was interested in staying with her. In being with her, if his little speech about feelings was any indication.
"Please stay," she said softly. "Don't leave now." Her feelings about him hadn't really changed a great deal. He had grown in her estimation. He'd gone from not having a choice, being raised in an environment that had dehumanized him, to making a decision for himself and leaving that world behind him. She admired that about him. He wasn't proud of what he'd done--he even seemed to regret it. How could she turn a man away to become lost once more? "I don't want you to go."