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Selfish	By : Moonchild10 Category: +S through Z > Silent Hill Views: 3321 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill 3 and I don't profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Selfish
- 1
When Heather ventured back to Vincent's room, she expected to be there alone. The only thought in her mind was maybe finding something to help her stop Claudia once and for all, thinking this could be the last time she would be able to venture through the rest of the bizarre church before she went through that door in her—no, Alessa's—room. She had done a  quick swoop of the room before, but she had left immediately after finding the cassette tape, feeling it was important and wanting to listen to it as soon as possible. Now, she did a thorough search, rummaging through the desk drawers, checking the bookmarked pages of the many difficult religious books on the bookshelf. She even got down on her hands and knees to check under the bed for anything useful. All that met the beam of her flashlight was  a varied menagerie of dust bunnies, but as she was pressing her face farther into the dusty crack, one managed to touch her nose. A powerful high-pitched sneeze burst out without warning.

"Bless you," said a rather amused voice from behind her, and Heather immediately stood up, whirling around and pointing her handgun straight at the figure in the doorway, her hands shaking. She was rather startled and struggled to keep her breathing steady, but almost immediately she saw there was more cause for embarrassment than alarm. Vincent stood in the doorway with an assortment of books in his arms, and he looked more amused than worried she would shoot him. It made her furious.

"Oh, it's you," she said with a furious sigh, lowering her gun. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I'll end up shooting you!"

Vincent shook his head. "You would enjoy that."

Heather's eyes narrowed. "No I wouldn't." she watched him place the stack of books on top of the bookshelf suspiciously. "What're those?"

"Books from the archives," he replied, removing his glasses and polishing them. "Standard religious texts. I doubt you would be interested." replacing his glasses, he gave her a long look. "Do you still have the seal?"

"Yeah," Heather nodded, patting the pocket of her vest compulsively and feeling the small, reassuring lump there. "It's here."

"Good," Vincent sounded businesslike. He straightened the new stack of books and then turned and stared at her for a long moment. Heather still didn't trust him. Instinctively, she took a step back as he closed the door.

"What d'you want?" she asked him, wanting to cut to the chase. A small smile flickered across his lips. In one smooth gesture he removed his glasses and set them on top of the stack of books, moving toward her.

"Oh Heather, you're so tense," he said as he drew closer. "You should really relax. You think I'm going to hurt you? I told you not to lump me in with Claudia. Do you really think I'm anything like that madwoman? I'm on your side," his voice was a low purr as he came up on her and she stepped back. He didn't stop coming and backed Heather into the desk. "I told you before. I only want to help you."

"What the hell are you doing?" Heather actually felt a bit nervous now that he was so close and she squirmed a little. He was so close she could smell his aftershave and some kind of probably hideously expensive cologne. He had been embezzling money for his own personal enjoyment, after all. Heather wondered if he had bought that cologne with that stolen money.

"Helping you relax," he replied, getting a bit closer, leaning down. His lips grazed hers and she shot backward as far as she could on the desk—which, to be fair, wasn't far. She didn't have a lot of room to work with—her eyes widening.

"S—stop it," she muttered, trembling a little. This was wrong. This shouldn't be happening. Hell, this was just plain weird.Heather was surprised she could still find anything weird in this place. "This is too weird."

"Weird?" Vincent smiled that obnoxious smug smile of his and kissed her again, more insistently this time. "What's strange about two people helping each other? You need to relax, or there's no way you'll have a clear enough head to bring Claudia down, and I'd be benefiting too, of course. I want you, Heather. I've thought about it. Don't tell me you haven't."

"Well, I haven't!" Heather glared at him. "Who thinks about that in a place like this? I've been trying to stay alive this whole time!" no one had ever told her they wanted her before, and despite how inappropriate and bizarre it was it was honestly just the faintest bit flattering.

"Oh yes, because you see monsters," his smiling lips twitched. "There's more to life than merely surviving, Heather. There's enjoyment. There's pleasure."

"You'd know that, wouldn't you?" she asked him coldly. "Stealing money from people who thought they could trust you to spend on yourself. You're selfish. You're a selfish bastard."

Vincent laughed. "I suppose I am. But we're all selfish; it's human nature. Why, even you're selfish. Do you really believe your father would want you to come to this town and put your own life in danger for the sake of your revenge? Of course not. He would want you to move on and try to be happy without him. But you do it out of your own selfish desire to kill the one who took him from you."

"Don't you dare talk about my father!" Heather snapped, her eyes burning as tears prickled at the corners. "You don't know anything!"

"So you see, you're selfish too," Vincent said, ignoring her statement. "So please just allow me this moment of selfishness." with that, he kissed her again, and Heather bumped against the wall in her attempt to get away from him. This time he did not relent and Heather  raised the gun that was still in her hand, placing the muzzle against his head. Vincent stopped kissing her for a moment. "So you're going to shoot me?" he asked.

"Yes," Heather replied, her finger on the trigger.

"Be my guest," Vincent said, pressing his strangely soft lips to hers once more. He sounded infuriatingly smug, as though he could sense her weakness, her unwillingness to take a human life. One of his hands found the zipper on her vest, moving with an amazing amount of relaxation for a man with a gun held up to his head, and he pulled it down. Heather was trembling, her finger still on the trigger and her heart hammering in her chest. Was he really going to do what she thought he was going to do? His kisses had subsided for the moment and she bit her lip compulsively, looking over his shoulder and to the door, actually hoping a monster would come in and interrupt.

Vincent was kissing her again and his hand pressed her stomach gently. It felt warm, and it snaked up her torso, finding one one her breasts and cupping it. As he touched her there, however, something strange happened. A small spark of desire erupted within Heather, and she was surprised and disgusted with herself. It didn't subside when Vincent's hand pushed her shirt up around her armpits, undoing the front clasp of her bra. As his large and bizarrely soft hands closed gently over her breasts, a soft gasp found its way out of Heather's mouth. His fingertips caressed her bare skin, touching, lingering. His thumbs and forefingers moved with perfect synchronicity to pinch her nipples, rolling them gently and making them peak from the contact. His mouth left hers and found one of her nipples and embarrassingly enough Heather pressed against him then, so not used to this sort of contact and as strange as it was, enjoying the touch of another human in this terrible place.

As Vincent's tongue swirled around her nipple, one of his hands slid downward, touching her knee and sliding to her inner thigh. With an agonizing slowness it slid up and down her inner thigh, caressing the soft skin there. Heather didn't want to feel as impatient as she did as he moved his hand close to where she embarrassingly enough wanted to be touched, but she did. That hand would move teasingly to the crease where thigh met labia and then steal away again, and it made her furious. She swore he knew he was making her want him, that he intended for her to feel such pent up frustration.

"Vincent," she hissed rather viciously, and he chuckled, breaking his mouth away from her breast for just a moment.

"This is a far cry from telling me to stop, isn't it?" he asked.

"Shut up," Heather started to say, but her words were lost as his hand slid across the crotch her of underwear, finally. She had to bite her lip to hold back any noise she might make and his fingertips massaged her there experimentally and then pushed her underwear to the side, out of the way. Fingertips touched bare, needing flesh and Heather gave the softest of moans before she found her self-control. Vincent's fingers trailed to her wetness, spreading it around to make her slick, and his fingertips began to explore her. Her body trembled with something that was certainly not fear anymore as his fingertips found her clitoris, stroking it lightly and then pinching it, rolling it between them. Heather arched against him, gasping hard. The hand which still held the gun went slack, letting the muzzle slip away from his head.

"That's better," he said, lips pressed faintly against her breast still. "It's alright to give in to our selfish desires now and then, remember?"

"Shut up," Heather growled, out of breath. Vincent's hand left her and his mouth left her breast, and she didn't have time to even think about it before he lifted her slightly with one hand under her bottom, pushing her skirt up around her waist. He pulled her underwear slowly down her legs and tossed them to the side. Heather had just the smallest of moments to wonder what he was doing before he dropped to his knees and placed his head between her thighs. Heather could feel his warm breath on her sex and it was strangely exciting.

"What are youhnnnnnnng," Heather moaned without even thinking as his tongue slid over her. She had to say she was surprised but it was the most incredible sensation she had ever experienced and as he licked her again, her hips twitched. The gunless hand moved to his head, grabbing a handful of his hair. She swore she could feel him smile smugly against her.

Vincent seemed to know what he was doing, and Heather couldn't help squirming as his tongue lapped at her folds, his hands moving to spread her open finally. Heather didn't have much time to complain internally about the cold air on her sensitive skin before Vincent's tongue touched her clit. A loud whine burst out of her throat and he licked there again, more insistently this time. Self-control went out the the window as his tongue circled her clit and then this mouth closed around it. Suddenly Heather didn't care so much about the embarrassing sounds she would make and they burst out of her throat without much restraint. Vincent moaned softly, and the vibration felt good against her.

"That's better," he whispered against her. "You're finally trying to enjoy yourself."

"Shut up," she hissed again. "It's embarrassing when you talk like—nnnnn..."

Her words were cut off as he closed his lips around her once more. The heat between her legs was starting to build and Heather's breath was hard and it was shallow. Vincent's tongue moved expertly and quickly and the suction was far too perfect, and Heather whimpered and pulled his hair, hard.

"V—Vincent, she gasped, her lips trembling, feeling that something was going to give, and hard. Instinctively she pressed her hips forward, pressing his mouth harder against her. If he was suffocating, he didn't show it. It was impossible to stop moving her hips now, and Heather ground hard against him, not caring if it was rude and not caring what would come of it. She panted hard, the hand that still held the gun shaking hard. Vincent seemed to sense that this was coming to some sort of a close and he moved his tongue more frantically, simply building on the pleasure and the tension. It was too much, it was too good. Heather could barely breathe and her body felt for a moment like it was simply going to give out.

"Hnnn... nnn..." Heather gasped, her tightly closed eyes flying open. She came on a high and breathy moan, her hips jerking out of control and her mouth hanging open involuntarily. Feeling rather satisfied Heather collapsed back against the wall, breathing hard.  Vincent stood, a strange flashing to his wild blue eyes, and stared at her for a moment before he came forward, lifting her in his arms. Heather was surprised but she was not nearly as resistant as she normally would have been. Vincent took the gun from her hand and placed it  on the desk.

"Won't be needing that," he said as he lay her rather gently on the bed. Heather blinked up at him, fully disarmed and deciding, perhaps against her better judgment, to trust him just for this moment. Vincent lay down between her legs and she peered down at him curiously. This time when he spread her open and licked her clitoris again, it was still hypersensitive from her orgasm and she moaned loudly, nearly plunging over the edge yet again. "Not so fast," Vincent scolded gently, pausing for a moment before he licked her again. Heather gasped softly, twisting the blanket beneath her in her fists. Vincent closed his mouth around her, licking her expertly, driving her farther into the madness of all of this. Already again she was mindlessly aroused and wanting, and when he drove two fingers into her she gasped, feeling intrigued rather than violated as she probably should have. His fingers curved inside of her, gaging her reaction. When his fingers pressed her g-spot she twisted her body on the sheets and he stroked there again, hard. It was all rather overwhelming, his tongue working on her diligently as he added a fourth finger, curling and uncurling against that spot again and again until she was completely breathless and her body was hot and shaking.

Heather was so consumed by her pleasure that she barely heard the sound of his zipper coming down, and when his fingers and mouth left her her eyes blinked open.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked him breathlessly, watching him crawl over her and placing one hand on either side of her head. She gasped in surprise as he slid his member across her sex, pressing the place his tongue had before danced. Slightly shocked she stared up at him as he slid himself into her to the hilt, filling her completely. A single tear managed to escape her eye and Heather was embarrassed but she couldn't help it; it hurt. Much more than she would have expected. There was no time for respite. Almost immediately he was moving inside of her and she felt, for a moment, like she had somehow been tricked into his. She knew, however, that it was not the case. She had wanted him, had come hard for him, and this was the only logical conclusion. Staring hard at the ceiling, Heather gritted her teeth, feeling the heat of him inside her and against her, his outer thighs brushing her inner ones and his clothed chest warm against her bare breasts.

It felt like years before suddenly a twinge of pleasure ripped through her, and, caught off guard, Heather gasped louder than she meant to. Somehow in the course of this whole thing the pain had drained mostly away and now he was changing angles, hitting her g-spot again though with his shaft this time. This sudden pleasure was happening almost too fast and almost instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to hit that spot with even more pressure. She tried to say his name but all that came out was a small rasping noise.

"There..." he said, sounding pleased. "That's better, isn't it?"

Heather wanted to tell him to shut up again but she was too far gone for speech. Her hands let go of the blankets to come up to his shoulders, digging into his skin as he thrust into her particularly hard. That still hurt, but in a good way and she pressed back against him, meeting his motions and forcing him deeper. Their hips collided rather hard and began to grind together as they met each other's thrusts, breathing hard. Sweat was beading on Heather's forehead and she swore she was going out of her mind. The tension was pooling deep and hot and she was frustrated beyond all belief, wanting and needing to finish, to reach that pinnacle of pleasure that she could sense just beyond her fingertips. Her nails dug hard into his back and she swore she felt them rip through his shirt as she forced herself harder against him, whimpering with each thrust, so close and yet so far away.

Vincent kissed her again then and this time she kissed him back hard, enthusiastic and  needy rather than reluctant as she had been previously. She met his tongue with a furious passion, chest heaving, back arching up toward him, up to the heavens. Finally it crashed down and she came with a hard and needy gasp, her mouth freezing against him, her body tensing, closing around him. At the sudden pressure around him Vincent cried out, his first real show of lack of self-restraint in this whole display, and he climaxed with a jerky shudder, spilling himself into her in short spurts.

There wasn't much to say afterward. It wasn't exactly a conventional coupling and Heather didn't really want to stick around and cuddle or anything of the sort. She was sure he  didn't expect it. She simply got out of the bed and found her underwear lying on the floor where Vincent had tossed them. Pulling them on, she watched Vincent zip his pants. It was a little difficult to think of things to say.

"So..." she said awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. "Thanks, I guess."

"No, thank you," Vincent replied, reaching for his glasses. Heather felt rather dirty and disgusting but it didn't really matter and honestly, she had felt worse in this place. So instead of agonizing she simply gave him a nod. She had no idea if she would ever see him again.

"I gotta go," she said. "Stop Claudia and all that."

"Of course." he watched her pull her skirt down, adjust her bra, her skirt, her vest. As she flattened her mussed hair with her hands, she actually managed a small smile at him. Sure, he was infuriating, but he had given her the closest thing to affection she had felt since her father's death and she couldn't help appreciating it.

There wasn't much else to say, and Heather closed the door behind her and left him in his little room. Down those horrible halls she walked, toward Alessa's room, toward her final destiny. Her heart still beat quickly from the furious passion of just moments ago and her body felt sated, wanting nothing despite her fear. Just once she happened to look back and happened to see him before he disappeared around a corner. Maybe he was right, she thought.

Maybe she was just as selfish as he was.
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Selfish