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Apicem Rapax	By : Ripsi Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 2155 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil fandom/franchise or any of their characters. I make no money from this fanfiction. It is merely a piece of fiction written by me.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
November 15, 2014
I feel like Ty was talking for himself right now, ignoring the obvious gaze of thoughtfulness on my face. Or perhaps he'd mistakenly thought it was directed towards his words. As he chattered on about some headshots he'd taken, Amanda played in Dawson's hair, noticing my new immunity to Ty's charm. She seemed amused. I couldn't stop thinking about Al. I couldn't remember what had transpired, but my mind couldn't wander elsewhere for much longer than 3 minutes before coming back to him.
He hadn't text me in a few days, and being as stubborn as any Redfield could be I hadn't text him either. This led to my days feeling empty, only somewhat filled by studying but it just wasn't enough to keep me from feeling on edge. I hit the home button on my phone, checking the time while hoping he'd sent me something and I'd just failed to notice it. Nope. Not a thing. Then I thought about sending him a message, but what was there to say?
"You okay Claire?" Amanda harbored a look of concern, but she knew what I was thinking about. I was a woman obsessed, much like she was with the blond resting on her lap. Of course I believe that my relationship with Al was a tad bit healthier.
Trying to steer away from any potential awkwardness I decided to bring up current events. “So has anyone heard from Dr. Hogue?”
With her mouth turned up in a frown Amanda gave a thoughtful look before shaking her head. “No.”
With a look of satisfaction, Dawson looked up to his biggest fan in the room right now and said, “I heard if a teacher dies, you an A.”
Being the voice of reason, Ty scoffed. “No one said the guy’s dead. Just missing.”
Dawson turned his head in Ty’s direction, “And when has Dr. Hogue ever just gone missing before? The guy lives for legal torture.”
Noticing a pattern lately, I jumped into the conversation. “It’s not just Hogue. It’s like people are going missing lately and nobody’s saying anything about it.”
Amanda began to look concerned. “Hey, didn’t that Ashford guy go missing too?”
I hadn’t thought too much about that part of the story. It seemed many things were being swept under the rug as of late in this city. The recent violence, the missing people, and even the fight for our lives in the woods. It was almost like someone somewhere was trying to make sure that certain things kept hushed up. This was something that followed me home, nagging me long after I got back into the house.
As I entered through the kitchen door I saw Chris’ large form before the kitchen island, probably on leave from STARS and deciding to raid our place for something to eat. When I came around the counter to stand on the other side he nodded to acknowledge my presence, and I gave a smirk. He was probably in the mood for hanging with someone other than his coworkers. With Al out Enrico was on fulltime duty, for the time being living at the precinct and probably enjoying every moment of torture he could inflict on the famous Alpha Team. He was a little jealous of them according to my brother’s team, and he was soaking up being the big captain while he could. I wonder how Al felt about that.
Chris picked a Granny Smith apple from the fruit bowl, forgoing washing it in the sink before taking a bite. We knew mom washed those things before she dare let them touch her overpriced bowl. Also, since he was a child my mother knew Chris had a habit of popping produce in his mouth with nary a question of its previous place. "So, how are you and Tyson?"

As I leaned over the counter I threw my head back, hating that I couldn't see this question coming. Ever since my family found out that there was a chance I was screwing the guy they attempted to come up with this fairytale relationship that honestly wasn't real. Ty was a fuck-buddy. He was my buddy for fucking for Christ sake not a boy that I dreamed of one day marrying and building a life with. His take on life differed from mine, and his aspirations were annoyingly unwavering. No backup plan existed in his mind, and I somewhat despised his assurance over his looks. Every day I was finding something new to hate about him it seemed. Looking back at him I groaned, "There is no Ty and me."

Swallowing some apple he shook his head. "So my sister's giving it up for nothing?"

Feeling particularly vengeful now I scoffed. "How are you and Jill?"

That question almost made him choke, forcing him to spit out the fruit into the trash bin next to the island. "Jill and I are just friends," he said firmly, pointing in my direction for some reason.

"Right." I rolled my eyes and rested my chin in the palm of my hand.

"She's got a boyfriend for God's sake."

"You spend so much time together."

"She's my partner! That's what partners do!" He yelled back, throwing his hands out on either side of his body. "People can't be friends anymore?"

Now sitting up I inhaled deeply. Already tired of the conversation that would undoubtedly be forgotten soon. Then we'd be right back to conversing about this nonexistent courtship between Ty and me.

For a moment I toyed with the idea of letting my brother in on my current interest, not dropping hints but rather testing the waters with a few details. Of course I wouldn’t just come out with, “Hey I have a crush on your captain,” because even the least perceptive of us would know that the death penalty would be revived in order to find a punishment fitting of the crime that Chris would commit. I decided to get a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer to ease my nerves about the coming conversation. I got a spoon and took a bite, loving the taste of the chocolate chips but dreading the session I’d have to schedule on the elliptical. “I’m actually interested in someone.”
For a second he looked shocked, but he couldn’t stay serious for too long. “Don’t be such a hoe sis.”
Swallowing down a cold lump of ice cream, I pointed my spoon at him. “I’m single.” My brother didn’t seem like he’d one day accept that women and men shouldn’t be held to different standards. If he could live the single life then why couldn’t I?
Finishing his apple, he threw the core in the bin. “Who is it?”
Your captain, I thought evilly to myself. Instead I decided to go with my original plan to finesse him into the possibility of this happening. “Just a guy I met.”
“At school?”
“No. Just a guy I met.”
Nervously he shifted. Oh yeah, this would be fun. “Well what does he do then?”
I thought back to Al’s wall of accomplishments, figuring it wouldn’t be a lie if I drew off of real life. Well, it was only a partial lie. “He’s got a Master’s in counseling. If he has time he’ll go for a PhD.” Still staying along the line of truth thus far.
Still nervous, he asked, “How old’s this guy?”
This was pure entertainment to me. It was becoming too hard to keep from laughing. To keep him from having a heart attack and also not draw attention to his commander I gave just a little more. “In his thirties.”
His comical nervousness instantly faded, replaced with a gaze of anger, and in moments like these I wondered if he had felt some need to make up for our father’s lack of control over me. “What? Are you serious Claire?”
Defensively I shrugged and frowned. “I’m nineteen, what does it matter?”
“That he’s an adult!”
“So am I!” The volume of my voice had defeated his, and for a moment he seemed like he was backing down.
"Ty’s closer to your age,” he grumbled, propping himself up on the island. I hated upsetting him, but truthfully my decisions were mine and I knew that he would eventually deal.
With resolve in my voice I said, “Yeah well Ty also has different plans for life. He’s not the kind of guy I could see myself with and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” For a second he began to look heartbroken, but I added quickly, “Chris, more than likely this guy doesn’t even see me that way.”
With a small grin finally appearing, he gave a laugh. “Any guy would be crazy not to want you.”
“Chris, can we shift gears for a second?” My tone may have alarmed him, but that’s not what I was trying to do. This conversation was to be taken very seriously though. My friends and I could speculate amongst ourselves all evening, but speculation brought me no peace of mind. “Strange stuff’s been happening lately.”
Putting back on his fatherly voice he said, “And you guys are scared as hell?”
I shook my head. I was concerned about the lack of coverage and more than likely action taken. I didn’t know how to feel about someone I personally knew going missing. It was too close to home, too probable now that it could happen to someone even closer. “I just need to know that you guys are on top of it.”
“Clarabelle…” He rubbed his temples, probably afraid that whatever he had to say wouldn’t suffice. “Raccoon City’s getting bigger. It’s more to do. They’re talking about shacked-in shifts at the station that last weeks now.”
Strongly, I replied, “My teacher’s missing Chris. I don’t want it to be any of us next.” The kitchen fell silent, and I was sure that he now regretted coming by the house. Once more it was up to me to pull us from this dreary mood that I had actually set myself. “Was my name really gonna be Clarabelle?”
He gave a little snicker and looked down at the counter, knowing that this was always something that bothered me. “The only thing that saved you was that I couldn’t say it.”
Rolling my eyes I leaned away from the island. “Tell me you’re lying,” I begged, cracking a smile of my own.
“I swear that’s what your birth certificate actually says.”
Rather than argue I just smiled, deciding to leave everything where it was. Someone at the RCPD was going to give me some answers though, it was just a matter of who.

As Will worriedly stared at the files before him I could feel his concern, radiating from within his core and taking form in his expression. He shook his head slightly, his palm against his cheek as he refused to look up to me either out of fear of my reaction or fear period. “You’re infected.” His admission was blunt, and I couldn’t imagine there being any other way to say it. Roundabout seemed to suit Will much better but I believe that his shock had been the cause for his direct admission. “Not with Batna,” he added, but as he set the files on the cabinet I could see that this statement was not going to end in good news. “Components of Batna are present, so whatever virus that makes it what it is, is in you.”
As I cradled my head in my hands I felt as though on some level I knew it. Perhaps I didn’t know exactly what it was but I knew that something had gone wrong at the hospital that night. I didn’t want to hear Claire out but perhaps I should have listened to her the day I left.
Will was visibly shaken as to what this could mean, but he knew as well as I that there was nothing that he could do. “It makes sense; you died on the table multiple times Al. It seems I was right about you surviving.” It was a bittersweet finding, and yet with all of his knowledge there was nothing that he could do. Will couldn’t tell me what this meant, he couldn’t tell me how I came to be infected, and he couldn’t tell me what would come. “Spencer left that same day didn’t he?”
Finally looking up, battling the swirling feeling in the pit of my stomach I thought back to that day. Spencer had certainly bounced back as well as I had from the shooting, and without a scar. “He hasn’t suffered a scratch.” He did this. It’s why he dodged my questions and refused to talk about that night.
Moving on to the explanation of what happened earlier, he switched pages. “Your hormonal output is… it’s different.” Will continued to toy with the pencil in his hands, his attempts to appear unbothered failing. “You seem to have a heightened amount of oxytocin and vasopressin both. These are what we feel when we’re in love. Oxytocin, however, has resulted in women losing their collective minds and logic for the little, flesh sacks they call babies. It’ll make them do anything. “As crazy as everything sounded it would explain what had happened with Claire. She calmed down, she listened, and she forgot that anything was even wrong. “This is insane Al. So she just forgot that you… did- what happened again?” Will seemed fed up more than interested. Of course here I was bending science and he was probably more interested in testing the physical and mental effects of the infection.
“She stopped screaming. I told her everything was fine and she seemed to just forget.”
With the pencil up to his mouth he raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “That has to be what happened. You must have sent off a massive dose of chemicals for that to happen. But I’m more concerned about what you said brought this on.”
Ah yes, the crimson gaze that was to blame for any of this happening. I’d looked into the mirror, startled by the gaze that took the place of my own. For the smallest moment I’d thought that I was imagining things, until Claire let out that unforgettable shriek of fear. I was sure that had I not been entranced myself, then I would have been in agony from the volume. “I don’t know how it happened.” I was sure that kissing her had little to do with it, so I would omit that part of the story. It was best to leave as many details as possible out for Claire’s safety (like her name). She didn’t ask to be a part of this, and even mentioning her name would have led to Will taking it upon himself to study her every move if he thought it would help find out what was wrong with me.
“Was there any witness to the events of the night at the hospital? How did you get infected?”
Wanting the answer myself, but not willing to endanger more lives, I stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll be back.”

When he called me I was surprised, and I was even more shocked when he requested that I come by to see him. I was nervous for some reason as I rang the doorbell, fidgeting with the sleeves of my sweater while I waited for him to open the door, and when he did I couldn't have been more excited, anxious, confused, you name it. As usual he stepped aside to let me in, securing the door behind us before leading me to the den. Once I sat on the couch I started to feel that comfort that I'd been missing for the last week.
Taking the seat next to me he asked, "Did you want something to drink today?"
With a smile I shook my head, knowing exactly what kind of drink he was referring to. "I didn't think you'd call me."
"Why?" The genuine surprise in his voice caught me off guard. I didn't expect to have to answer him, and I really didn't want to sound silly. I cared too much of what he thought about me, and maybe I needed to let go just a little more in his presence. What would that lead to?
Tucking some hair behind my ear I shook my head again. "I don't know."
His smile soon faded, his tone changing. "There's something I needed to ask you."
I was sure I began to look a bit nervous now. "What's up?"
"What do you remember from that night in the hospital?" The question sounded desperate, as though much was riding on my answer.
This put an unnerving amount of pressure on me; most of that night was a dream right? I couldn't have seen the things I saw. Yet, was it merely coincidence that Spencer had correctly told me in that dream that Al was his son? Not confident in answering, I looked down at the counter. "I'm not sure. I was asleep most of that night."
With more insistence than before he leaned in even more. "Claire you said that Spencer told you that I was his son. This had to have happened at the hospital. How could he have told you this if he was barely faring better than me?"
Nervously looking up I decided to tell him what I could remember, the part that couldn't have been real. "I think I dreamed that he injected you with something." I didn't want to say what. I was trapped with bewilderment. Why was what happened in the hospital so important to him? Was he finally taking his shooting seriously now? If so I was impressed that he'd gotten over his pride for long enough to admit that the whole thing was freaky.
"Dream?" he asked, moving back a bit now.
"Yeah, it had to be a dream." Deciding to give in and let him see how much of a weirdo I was I said with incredulity, "He injected you with some of his blood."
His blue eyes widened as he fully sat back in his chair.
To lessen the awkwardness I muttered, "It was weird."
Sounding more like my shrink he asked, “Have you been having more nightmares?”
I honestly couldn’t remember, but I always woke up with this immense feeling of dread. It never failed that I found myself panting into my pillow, praising God that I was awake, and then soon forgetting what had me so upset in the first place. Less and less was I dreaming of Alfred hunting me down at the Spencer estate through rooms I hadn’t even known existed, but more and more I was waking up almost certain that something had been haunting me in my dreams. “I can’t remember.” My admission was not ideal. I wanted to tell him everything, to keep him aware of the importance of his presence in my life without seeming too dramatic or clingy. The truth was that I would rather wake up here, screaming in his arms than wake up alone in my bed as I sweat bullets and looked around for something I wasn’t even sure existed.
As I massaged my temples I gave a sigh. “You got anything stronger than wine?”

She was upset, her emotions couldn’t be made plainer. Perhaps though it was better to use the word, “disgusted,” to describe her right now. As he droned on and on about floor plans and fees, Isabella massaged her temples, her elbow propped up on the back of the chair. She was struggling to not remove herself from the conversation, though she cared little for the planning for her new abode. I didn’t wish to keep her confined to the condominium, and at some point I hoped to have the public meet her. Though she cared little for people I knew that it was a smart move to have her face be known.
Winston coughed into a handkerchief that doubled as a rag to dab the sweat from his reddened face while my partner winced. I could hear the sound of her teeth grinding as her upper lip twitched, her breaths shallow as she tried to keep from taking in another breath of the sweaty contractor’s foul odor. With a deep and struggling voice he said, “Since we already have a foundation we can have this finished in five months. Basically what you’re getting is renovation. And of course there’s the additional rooms…” He trailed off, far too suspicious for my liking. “Is she okay?” He pointed to Isabella whose breaths became shallower. In a dismissive tone meant to draw away attention I waved, “She’s feeling a little ill.”
Still staring at her he said, “Oz and I can handle it if you need to go lie down.”
I heard a growl too low for Winston to pick up, and as he fell into a coughing fit I rubbed my eyes in vexation. I leaned to the side as I saw her leap over the desk out of the corner of my eye. For a split second she stood next to him, giving him little time to react before she grabbed his chin and the back of his head. She gave a quick jerk, and I heard a snap so violent that I knew she’d probably almost severed his head. Teeth bared, she casually popped the bones in her own neck, walking off as though nothing had happened. “Get him out before he stinks up the rest of the place.” She didn’t speak to me again until we were at my office downtown, but as though she were a child I gave her a phone to keep her occupied as I tended to duties that I’d left to lackeys for too long.
The sight of her in her state of compete normalcy had a surprising effect on me. It was as though I didn’t know I’d felt such stress seeing her in a state that was only describable as barely living. Looking at her now was seeing a completely different person, and for that I was grateful. Her current actions though reflected her mood, and I felt a bit worried when she said that she had no intention of transforming Live. Obviously, she had not yet developed an acceptable amount of interest in this world, and she seemed frustrated by the iPhone that rested in the palm of her small hand.
As her eyes raced back and forth across the screen she asked, “What is Twitter?”
Rolling away from my desk, I looked to her face despite her not returning my gaze. “It’s a social media website.” Noting her verbiage I added, ‘”And try saying ‘what’s’, ‘who’s’, and ‘can’t.’ No one here speaks like that anymore.”
Angrily, she tossed the phone to her side on the white sofa. “That is lazy.”
“That’s more efficient speech.”
With a growl she said, “I oderunt hoc vulgari lingua,” echoing her previous sentiments about the Latin language itself. Her teeth were bared now, her breathing heavier, and her eyes became fixed on a fleck in the gray tile.
I stood up from my chair, making my way across the office to stand before her in hopes of calming her before she rampaged through my place of work. “America is easier to establish a base of operations,” I chided, kneeling down to force her to make eye contact with me. “Japan is an island, Paris too liberal, and Spain too smart. This is where we are meant to be.” As she released another guttural growl I lifted a finger to shush her, picking up the discarded phone with my free hand. I opened the Instagram account I set up for her and showed her the growing number of likes her first photo received. “They think you are beautiful.”
Chest heaving faster than before, she growled, “Non curare opinor, quid est homo!”
Determined to pull her into this century I placed the mobile device in her hands. “Pretend.” It seemed that this would be harder than I originally thought. “Alex will come to the condo tonight to help you finish setting up.
Snapping her head up in my direction she said, “I do not need more furniture.”
“Of course you do. These are not the days that you yearn for my dear.” She missed days of simple housing, of hunting, and of being free to her own nature. “Now while you figure out that phone I’ll be checking some emails.” I gave a wink as I headed back to my desk, expecting the usual boring emails, but one caught my eye. It was from Alfred. I hesitated on whether or not to open it, but I knew that it was more than likely dangerous to ignore it. The danger would be towards my brand however, and not myself. It was also refreshing to know that now I didn’t have to worry about the safety of either of my sons, so if Ashford wanted to replicate his actions on Halloween he would have a job ahead of him that he was ill-suited for.
Upon opening the email I saw red, glittering letters in the center that read, “Get well soon!” I should have known. For a moment I considered being petty and replying, but Ashford had no idea what I was capable of. I enjoyed having that leverage over him. I was certain that Alfred knew that he deserved revenge for what happened to his grandfather, and so it was only polite that I allow him to take his shots here and there even if they were literal. One thing was certain though: one of us were going to end him, and he had better pray that it wasn’t Albert.

History had granted me many names, none that I would have chosen for myself, but they fit me all the same. For their mythologies I was made grand and for their lack of scientific knowledge, I was their scapegoat. Yet no matter my purpose for my presence I was always one thing: powerful. Though sometimes I was a hero, more often than not I was an enemy of mankind. Though as I “went online” and “Googled” myself, I found that recently I had become symbolic for women, praised for acts I supposedly committed in a book that had changed every time it changed hands. As if I would have lowered myself to such a position at any point in my history. To them their admiration was endearing, to me, an insult.
As I watched Alex set up more pointless items of décor (more for company than my own pleasure), I felt pity for him. Pity that he had grown up so immersed in human civilization that he knew their way as the only way. Their ways were complex when an answer called for simplicity, and simple when complexity was the only way to handle something with competence. I was sure that on some level he felt a desire for a more efficient way of life, but I would watch and allow him to find his own way.
Though he and his brother were identical -except for their hair-, neither of them bore a resemblance to their father. Except for the color of their eyes. Not those dull, gray orbs that he wore when disguised, but their true color. It was astounding how the offspring of my kind were merely phenotypical clones, while earning little similarity from the face of their own biological sire. I was sure that Alex had questions that he felt only I could answer. But again, I would wait for him.
Probably unnerved by my silent observation, he looked up from the glass table he’d been assembling, a question visible even in those blue eyes. “Father says that you grew upset today.” So polite. I was not proud of my tantrum earlier, but my frustration was not without excuse. I’d missed much in my time away, and catching up was never my favorite part of reintroduction to any society.
Typically I felt no need to explain myself, but Alex had a sweetness about him and his manners did not hurt either. This was the gift his father wrote so passionately about. “It makes me feel like an idiot.” He was one of the few I felt comfortable with confiding in, but it still made me feel vulnerable by confessing to a subordinate.
Setting a tool down, he let his hand hang over a denim-clad knee. “ I took a break from society a few times. Whenever I’d come back for one of Al’s events I never knew what to do. Then, things just became normal.”
“You sat out decades. I? Centuries. You were barely a man when I first met you.”
With a crooked grin he took up his tool once more. “You remember that?”
“I only forget the insignificant.”
Now pleased, he began assembling the fixture again, that grin still in place.
With my own smile I warned, “Do not step on your father’s toes.”
Knowing what I meant, he shook his head, probably also casting aside my warning. Though I was done with Ozwell I was quite sure that he was not done with me. His recent omissions would not allow me to even think of travelling that path with him once more. Knowing that Alex would be more compliant gave me an idea though0. "Ozwell will not tell me about Albert's mother." No question was necessary; I knew that the elder Wesker son sought acceptance and love from his superiors, and that he would answer any hidden inquiries without prompt.
His ever-present smile faded. This would indeed be a very powerful recollection. "Albert's mother took her own life."

Knowing why, I nodded. This story had been written several times over. Each time an Edimmu took a human as a mate they would over time begin to see us for our true nature. It was an unsettling nature that provoked questions over morality, life, and inevitably a human's very faith. Once you took a human's faith, they became nothing more than a hollow shell, their very void within consuming every thought and shred of motivation to continue. We consumed your blood and ultimately your soul. She simply could not live with knowing that she'd lain with a devil and bore another. She was forever tainted. I felt pity for her soul, and the fact that she was so easily frightened away from experiencing the possibilities that life had to offer. There was a problem with my assumption though: I had never known the maternal love for a child, and not being human I would never understand.

I had had children, but not in the true biological sense. Those that I sired were held dear to me, but when the choices of my past had been self-preservation or vain martyrdom I chose the former. For without me they could not have continued to live, and without them I could. Perhaps she had felt it best for Albert that she end her life rather than look upon him with fear, regret, and an abominable disdain. “Your brother knows nothing of our world.”

“Albert is dangerous.” He spoke as though this was for the best. Once more, he knew something that I didn’t.

“To whom?”
“To everyone and everything.” For a moment he paused, looking around the room before he brought attention back to my dismissal of his initial move to attempt to woo me. “Why do you fear my father’s reaction?” He moved towards the sofa, spreading my legs and earning a smile from me.’
Crossing my legs again, I looked over what I was rejecting, assuring myself that I was right to do so. His beauty paled in comparison to his father’s yet, it was still a temptation when paired with his personality. “I fear none, but I do not betray.” Laying with the son of a past paramour would do immense harm to my relationship with Ozwell. Though my kind held no such taboos in terms of indulgence, I knew that my friend held many values of mankind dear. After all, he had been human before.
Still interested, he held himself up with both hands, his thumbs grazing my thighs. “My father needs to let go of his human tenets.” When I gave no more resistance, he leaned in to kiss me, and I instantly reciprocated the action.
I bit at his bottom lip, an act that caused him to cup my cheek and deepen the kiss. As another hand moved to pry my thighs apart though, I pulled back. “Your father would not hesitate to kill you.” Alex may not have been long for our world. Not long at all.
I’d managed to talk Claire into settling for a glass of wine to calm her nerves; anything harder would have undoubtedly clouded her judgement and severely impaired her ability to drive. That one glass of wine though seemed to do exactly what I’d hoped, and now she stood before absentmindedly handling her car keys as we exchanged pleasant smiles. There was just one thing I had left to do, and I knew that if I had left that end untied I wouldn’t be able to sleep through the night. Before she could wish me a nice evening I stepped forward, entering her personal space, bringing an arm around her waist to caress the skin of the small of her back. I was sure that a more direct approach would be better than the alternative which would more than likely confuse and embarrass her. Last time she’d decided to initiate it all on her own, and this time I would do the right thing by her.
She seemed surprised, clearly unaware of what had happened less than a week ago. I still wasn't sure of the science behind it all, but I knew that right now I could make it all different. I'm sure she'd worried herself sick over her initial efforts, and I didn't want her to experience that again. Though I knew that the last thing I needed to do was enter into a relationship with her, she'd already opened that door to me, and I knew I would be a fool to close it and shatter her heart that more than likely still carried those feelings. This was something that I knew regardless of her inability to remember.
With my arm around her waist, I used my free hand to brush stray strands of hair from her face, running my thumb down her jaw. Touching my forehead to hers, I saw her eyes close, heard her breathing deep, but I also heard her heart pounding. As my hand moved to the nape of her neck, I pulled her even closer, close enough but not all the way. I admired her initial determination, and I didn't want to take that away from her. So I waited to feel her lips against mine, unsure of whether I should be the one to start it all, or allow her once again take the lead. I’d put in my effort to bring about the chance of it happening again, and now it was up to her on whether or not we would find ourselves once more kissing here in this same place as we had five days ago. This time though, I was sure that this would be how she had envisioned it: perfect.
Just when my window of time to allow her, her chance had almost closed, I felt her body press into mine as she brought herself to the tips of her toes. Once she’d steadied herself her warm lips pressed into my own, but this time I wouldn’t hesitate in giving a response. My arm around her waist tightened, locking her body into place as I used my other hand to grab a handful of her wavy locks, taking this moment to deepen the kiss. For her it was the first time all over again, and to ensure that nothing would ruin the moment, I peered into the mirror on the wall behind us, seeing nothing but my usual gaze staring back. I would remain certain of one thing from this moment out: nothing would hurt this girl, including me.
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Apicem Rapax