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Beauty of the Blistering Sky	By : UltraVioletSoul Category: +S through Z > Splinter Cell Views: 1829 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell or its characters. Neither do I own the song "Bullets" by Archive. No copyright infringement intended. I am just trying to provide entertainment, and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter VI
That had been almost a month ago, and you had not seen him nor had any signs of life from him after that night. The day after your unexpected encounter with him you had discovered— much to your disappointment— that the man had left without as much as a goodbye. Not that you had been expecting one, in the first place, so it was no surprise when you found the couch empty and the window leading to the backstreet of the apartment building open. Your first thought when you looked down to the alley was that he must have had a pretty hard time climbing down. He surely had to be some kind of male Croft to do such a brave deed and, also, very experienced otherwise you would have found his body all sprawled against solid concrete by then. Thankfully, that had not been the case but you still had been worried about him. What if he got in trouble, again? You never knew what had truly happened that night, but you were sure it had to do with some arms smuggling network that wanted him dead. What would his part in this game be you were yet to learn, but you had the feeling he would not be telling you any time soon, if not ever.

Shaking your head, you tried to chase those thoughts away. You were pretty certain he was more than capable of taking care of himself and, then again, you tried to convince yourself that things would be better off this way. Still, the outcome of this had saddened you a little. You had wished that, at the very least, you could have had the chance to bid him farewell. Why would that be? Reasons maybe were not easy to explain, at this point, or maybe nothing was easy to explain when it came to him. This was not your average guy, you knew this very well, and pretending so would be a great mistake on your part. It had been a great mistake, unfortunately.

Stealing a kiss from him had been far easier than you had expected. You could not help but think that he too had wanted the same from you, and that might have been the reason why he had allowed you to have a brief taste of him. How did you did muster the courage to do such a thing was beyond your understanding, honestly, but if there was one thing you knew was that the temptation had been hard to resist. You had wanted to try this in hopes that you could eventually forget him once the enchantment was broken, yet again. You had to; it could not possibly be as wonderful as you dreamed it to be. A kiss, a simple kiss, was all it would take to put an end to your vain longing and help you get over this puppy love you had developed for him.

How wrong had you been. How fool you had been to believe that this would be the cure. You wished you had not done it. Now you missed that heavenly feeling of his rough lips against yours; his gentle but certain touch on your body as he held you close to him and the velvety growl rumbling on his throat when your hands travelled across his chest. That was right; that was the painful truth. When the time to go to bed came, and good nights were said, it had taken too little for hands to find their way through one another’s bodies, mouths claiming and conquering foreign lands before realization struck you both with all its might– before shame and guilt forced you to look down and run away.

What had taken you aback, and nearly petrified you, had been his reaction to your lips. He had actually kissed back. He had actually pressed his body against yours, trapping you against the wall and his solid frame. His delicious and large hands had explored your shivering form, fingers tracing slow circles on your most sensitive places until you believed you would lose your mind. Blushing and whimpering, you had reveled in the pleasure he delivered to you, his mouth aggressively devouring yours. Your fingers had found their way around his neck, and pulled at his short hair, your legs trembling and mind hazed by the furtive joy of this delusion you seemed to be experiencing.

This could not be real; this was not real. This was not meant to be and there was no doubt of it when he pulled back and you saw the look of dread and indignation in his eyes.

What would you do now? The air was thick with tension and unwanted discomfort as you stood there, trying to make sense of what had just transpired. The grimace on his face was enough to confirm that this had been a bad idea– an awful one. You should not have done what you did; you should not have tasted those sinful lips and allow yourself to be enveloped by those strong arms of his. How wrong you had been to believe this could quench your thirst! The truth was that this feat— if you could call it that— had backfired on you as you had been left wanting for more, and to know that you could not have him hurt badly.

You had not meant to do any harm; you were just trying to figure your heart out but the implications of this adventurous self-discovery were all too risky for you and him. Would you take the chance? Would you endure the pain of a one-night stand? What happened with your dreams of waiting for Mr. Right? You had realized that they had all vanished into the night; the very night you met this man.

You wanted it to be him. You wanted him to make you a woman– his woman. You had decided if there was a man worthy of being your first, it had to be one who would go as far as to do what he did for you. He was the right one, you had no doubts.

Was it the effect of the crystalline vodka numbing your good reasoning? The gorgeous but dangerous glimmer in his green eyes as you watched the rain fall and shot the breeze for a while? Or was it the effect of his smooth and husky voice that had you under a spell? You did not know but, as soon as you had the chance, you acted on your impulses. You had made a fool of yourself and there had been nothing left for you but regret after that.

The nights were so long and lonely; nights were filled with confusion and unfulfilled expectations of him coming back to you. Was he returning at all? You did not think so but, despite you knew you should not be harboring these false hopes, you longed to see him just once more.

No. You needed to get him out of your mind once and for all. This was becoming an unhealthy fixation, and you could simply not shell yourself from the world just waiting for him to turn up at your place. You could not let that happen; you were not a little girl anymore. As the mature woman you believed you were, you had to let this go.

He was not coming back, it was as simple as that, and you had better accepted it. It was the only way for you to understand that this ephemeral adventure had come to its end. Whatever business he had in Odessa, they were finished and there was no doubt he went back to the shadows from where he had emerged.

Shadows. It ashamed you to admit it, at your age, but you had been scared of darkness ever since you could remember. It was not this insane fear that would make you scream like a child, but this menacing feeling that someone was always watching and the lone thought was enough to make you uncontrollably shiver. You knew it was only in your mind, but after several tragedies you had witnessed some faces were never forgotten. The faces of those people who died, and the faces of those who seemed to blame you with their accusing stares. It was something you tried to overcome, little by little, and you even forced yourself to walk in the dark of your apartment, constantly telling yourself that there was nothing to be afraid of.

How innocent could you be sometimes. Of course there was always someone lurking in the black veil, but it had not been who you had expected.

When one night you made a little trip to the kitchen, looking for some water to drink, you had the scare of your life when a hand was placed on your mouth muffling your terrified screams. Thrashing and squirming in a strong grasp you tried to break free from your faceless captor, who held you in their arms, but to no avail. Your legs furiously kicked in the air, and your bare feet futilely dug its heels on solid leather shoes. Still, your efforts were useless; you could not escape from the vice grip that held you captive and it was driving you insane.

“Shh. It’s me. It’s me.” You recognized that voice and, almost immediately, stopped writhing practically rendering yourself limp and quiet. When the grip slackened you rapidly turned to face familiar features, a look of anger and bewilderment in your widened eyes.

“What the hell?!" You admonished, voice a little too high for your liking. "Are you trying to give me a heart-attack? You could have used the door!” You seriously wanted to choke your night visitor because what he had done had been no fun, at all! You truly had been scared out of your wits, and seeing him standing before you did not make you feel at ease. Wait a moment. He was here? The man who had stolen your sleep was actually here? “Leo? Oh my God. Leo, it’s you!” All thoughts of upset left you at that moment, and you had to control the urge to run to his arms and hug him out of great joy. You badly wanted to do it but, after the incident last time, you did not know how he was going to react– or if you were going to be able to face the look of rejection in his eyes. It was better if you watched your every step with him, you decided.

“Were you expecting someone else?” His nose scrunched ever so slightly, and you leaned onto the counter trying to assimilate all this with diligent calm. His arrival had been unexpected, not to mention spooky, and you still were trying to get your heartbeat back to normal as you breathed in short and small gasps.

“Well, no but–” you paused, abruptly, and frowned, realizing the nearly naked state you were in. Only clad in underwear and an oversized tee shirt, you thought this had to be the most discomfiting situation you had ever been in. For the sake of your dignity you had to do something about it but avoiding looking like an immature kid. You were adults, after all. Frankly, you did not know how this fact was supposed to make it easier. “Let me guess; you’ve run into complications again, right?” You did not want to take off running like a mad so you just held it, for the time being, seeking the right moment to make your move. Call it sixth sense, but you had this strange feeling in your gut and wondered how this night would end for you and him. “Just take a seat, I’ll be back shortly. Let me get decent, first.”

Trying to get past his bulky form, you watched him shake his head out of the corner of your eye as he took a step forward and gently grabbed your forearm, turning you to look at him. “It’s not like that.”

This action made you gulp and you regarded him with a baffled gaze, trying to read his intentions but, at the same time, afraid of what you might find out. “So, what brings you here?” Silence from him; not strange. However, his evasive behavior was making you feel anxious and uneasy like you had never felt before. You were not expecting for the worst to happen, but there was a marked tension surging between you two that seemed to take the air out of your lungs. “D-do you need somewhere to spend the night?”

At this, he arched an eyebrow and the corners of his lips were curved up in an almost complacent smile. “Is that an invitation, little one?” His voice was hoarse— inherently masculine— caressing your ear, enveloping you in a haze of dreams and veiled desired. The sandalwood fragrance he carried, and the smell of powder and power, was a scent you could hardly miss. It was the scent of a man, a real one, and you felt so vulnerable, so lost and small before his massive understanding of the world. He could easily bend you to his will, if he wanted, and it scared you and thrilled you in ways you never thought you would ever enjoy.

He was a predator in the hunt and, if you did not escape soon, there was no doubt he would eat you alive. You had to get out of this trance, this daze he had put you in. You had only wanted to see him to say goodbye, nothing else. You could not just give him your heart like this. For all that you knew, he could step on it and hurt you a great deal. Was this fear normal? Maybe it actually had been the vodka which had made you behave in such a bold way, but you could not afford to do that again. So, what were you to in a situation like this? Fumbling to give him a retort of your own his actions took you by surprise, and what little defenses you had built were demolished the moment your lips met. His luscious mouth crashed against yours in a heated kiss, and his body backed you against the counter, leaving no room for resistance or doubts from you.

You responded with fervor of your own. You kissed him back and tangled your fingers in his short hair, letting the side of you that wanted him win. You let him win. There was no way to fight this desire off, not when he was the embodiment of your dreams. You were afraid, true, but this was the only way to quench the thirsty passion that had been unleashed by him.

Your hands desperately roamed his back, feeling the muscles strain and shudder as his arms hooked around your waist. There was fire burning between your legs, and you could feel this familiar bulge forming on his loins. You knew where this was going, you definitely did, and despite this fact scared you a bit you did nothing to stop him. There was something in the way he kissed you that made your head go dizzy and left you unable to think. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, the way he firmly held your chin and did not even allow you to gasp for air. And by the time he was done, he had literally taken your breath away before finally parting, slightly panting and satisfied.

“I guess it’s an invitation.” He chuckled, planting small kisses on your cheeks, eyes and nose. On your part, you felt like melting in his arms and sought support on his chest as your legs threatened to give out. When you were able to catch your breath, you retrieved your ability to think and questions popped in your mind. Why was he doing this all of a sudden? Why did he look for you, again? He had made it very clear that he could not afford to be with you, even if he wanted to. So why was he here? You wanted to know why; you wanted answers– answers you knew you would never have the moment he held his index finger to your lips and silenced you. His stare was a mix of sternness and longing, as though he himself was not sure why he was doing this; as though he was mad at himself for betraying his own code of behavior. However, if there was something he could assure you it had to be the fulfilling of your wishes, whether they included him or not. “Just one word, (Name), and I’ll stop. A word from you and I’ll be on my way. You won’t have to see me again.”

Leave? How could you ask him to leave when you had been waiting for him for so long? How could you tell him to stop when your body said ‘don’t’? Logic and reason were telling you to get away from him, warning you about the hurtful consequences, but your heart said otherwise– the heat in your body said a different story. It was telling you to hear no more reasons, to abandon yourself in the pleasure and comfort he had to provide just for tonight. Tomorrow you would deal with the pain; tomorrow you would find the strength to face the emptiness and coldness of your bed.

“Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to stop right here.” His whispered words took you by surprise, and you could see something akin to despair in his green eyes as if he really meant it. He really wanted you to stop him before it was too late for you. He was not used to doing these kinds of things, and his professional pride had been impaired– his pride as a man who had been too proud to allow himself the luxury of needing someone. “I can’t give what you want. I can’t give you the life that you want.”

You understood this, even without further explanations. In the situation he was, and with his unusual kind of lifestyle, there was no room for other obligations. You still did not know what he really did for a living, but you knew first-hand that it was a dangerous job. Maybe he did work for some government, after all, although you did not want to draw any conclusions as of yet. But you could tell that he definitely was a military man; his imposing demeanor, appearance, and way of expressing, they all screamed of soldierly vibe. However, your small deductions only went as far as that. You could not directly ask him, but that really was not any business of yours unless, of course, one day the law enforcements knocked on your door. Whoever Leo was, you were most sure he would not be happy to see the Militsiya and neither would you be.

Despite your efforts to get to know him better, he had been very secretive of his personal life. A few of the things you got him to tell you were his name, which you liked to believe was real, and that he had a daughter who was almost your age. You did not know much about him other than the scarce information he had sporadically given you but you did not pressure him into offering more details. You figured he appreciated having his private life as such, and it was fine by you. You could live with the doubt so long as it did not hurt you. Everyone had the right to keep secrets so long as they did not hurt anyone, right? At any rate, you decided it would be best if you remained ignorant of the many things he did. It was not a coward decision but more of a wise one, you believed.

With trembling hands, you reached for his stubbly cheeks and caressed them with gentleness. His eyes seemed to flicker in the dim light the windows allowed to slip inside the kitchen, expectant of your words. What would it be? He was not pressuring you, but leaving you to decide was even more distressing than you had ever imagined it to be. This was not precisely how you dreamed your first time to be, but he did not know it. Had he known you knew no man would he have decided against coming to you tonight?

You could not take any more of this; you could not stand the fast beating of your heart and the way your hands sweated in nervousness. You were a trembling mass, and even as you tried to speak you found that your voice was hoarse and broken, reflecting your own desire for him and insecurity at not knowing what to do.

What would you say to this man? Should you let him go just like that? If you did, who knew if you would see him after this night? Who knew if you would see him ever again in your life?

Minutes seemed to last lifetimes, but the words escaped you when you least expected it. “I won’t ask you more than what you have to offer. I won’t ask you what you can’t give.”

It seemed this was the only encouragement he needed for he began to nip your neck, hands slipping under your clothing and exploring the skin concealed underneath. One would think he had been deprived from sex for a very long time since his hot and rugged lips moved swiftly and urgently against your skin, like he could never get enough of you, but with him you were not sure. You were not sure of anything other than you wanted to be with him all night long.

The path to your bed seemed to last forever as you stumbled on almost everything on your way there, not wanting to waste a second without kissing the living days out of each other. It was purely and simple primal need– the need of feeling skin against skin, of easing the rush of heat taking over you both and finding relief in an evanescent union.

Once your back hit the bed, you knew there was no way to go back. The Black Panther ravishing your body was going to feast over his prey, and there was no way to stop him. You did not want to stop him, not when his tongue grazed against your stomach and his hands caressed your hips, making you sigh when his fingers stroked ever so slightly the soft and rounded flesh of your chest. At this, your fingers brushed against his black hair speckled in gray in an attempt to endure this overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. The sensations were wonderful, ecstatic and revealing to you but, at the same time, they panicked you. It was not precisely what you felt what startled you, but the way he reacted to you and your proximity. His deep groans, growls, and dirty words made you blush in embarrassment which you hoped he would never notice. You had never imagined you could actually make a male act in this irrational way just because of you. To have this man— this one in particular— lusting after you and stripping you of every last shred of innocence you still retained made you anxious and impatient all the same.

It felt strange, foreign, to feel his mouth moving like fine velvet against your soft skin, drawing unsuspecting sighs from you and other sounds you never thought you could produce. It travelled to your neck, nibbling and softly sucking here and there. His tongue teased you, ragging your breath and when he managed to find that certain spot, which had you curling your toes and holding onto his shoulders, you gasped in frustration arching against his body.

He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it on purpose.

As he busied himself with getting the baggy tee shirt you were wearing off of your small body, for a brief moment Sam wondered what the hell he was doing. He could not possibly be thinking about getting laid with you; he could not have possibly let his hormones take over and allowed Nature to follow its course. He was not an animal. He did not mindlessly screw just for the hell of it but he was just a man. At the end of the day, this was the reality. He was a man made of flesh and blood, whose loins ached and who breathing wavered at the sight of your beautiful naked breasts; who could not stop drinking in the delicacy of your youth. Was he to blame to find you desirable or for wanting to bang you against the mattress until your bodies gave out? Was it wrong to crave a woman who should have known better than to let this old eagle into her cozy nest?

He knew he was being a selfish bastard; knew that he had no right to do this to you. But he could not stop. He did not want to stop. He wanted to feel you close, be inside of you and make you scream his name to oblivion. Drenched in sweat with you, that was how he wanted to be. Giving relief to this animalistic need was what he wanted to do.

"Wait, Leo, wait!"

It was then that he felt relieved for having told you his second name, at the very least. Somehow, it felt nice to hear it from your lips as your chest rose and fell with every lungful of air you took. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair messy, and it seemed you did not feel the least ashamed for having your chest nude in front of him. Perhaps you were not as inexperienced as he had believed you to be. Not that he felt disappointed, at all. It felt good to know that this would be an encounter free of attachments and compromises, which were the last things he needed now.

But why were you asking him to stop all of a sudden? Did you change your mind? Were you not sure about what you were about to do anymore?

"What's the matter?" His green eyes stared at you, and you clearly saw the menacing shadow lurking in them– a shadow which rapidly dissolved into a whirl of impending craving and the determination of making you his. There was so much power and control in the way he looked at you it would not be difficult for him to make you do as he wished. You had no doubts about that.

With an expression of embarrassment, you avoided his gaze. How could you tell him this? Would he make fun of you once you voiced your concern? “Don’t turn the light off, please. I— I don’t like the darkness.”

Sam had felt very tempted to laugh, but who was he to judge? He too had his own fears; his own terrors to deal with. Everybody had something to be scared of and fear of the dark was not precisely an unreasonable one. Shadows could be deceiving; they could be the perfect cover but they could also show you what you did not want to see. They could trick your mind, treacherously and mockingly, and make you go insane.

Were people really terrified of the darkness or what could be hidden in it; of what was lurking in it, dangerous and ready to pounce on them at any given time? Were his enemies afraid of him or the death he could deliver? Was it the foreboding, the hairs standing on end? Was it the adrenaline pumping in his veins, or the power it made him feel?

Was it the anticipation of things to come?

“Then I’ll teach you to enjoy it.” He rasped in a low chuckle, the deep rumble of his voice sending waves of delicious tremors down your body. Biting your lips, you watched as his hand reached for the bedside lamp once more and switched it off, the amused twinkle of his green stare lost to you in the night.

Now it was only you and him, trying to leave all the ghosts of the past behind.
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Beauty of the Blistering Sky