Into Temptations (Lover to Lover)

[selenias]

He was breaking every moral he had ever held as something precious - including hers.

Though, to be fair, she was breaking every part of him.

“Take another step, and I will kill you,” she threatened stiffly.

And when was she not?

She was sitting in the desk near the window of the inn, back turned to him and hunched low over the table. Open books were stacked in haphazardly made piles, teetering precariously on her mattress's edge. A lamp was lit, and the smell of pungent burning oil filled his nostrils.

He automatically held up a single hand in defense, palm spread wide and head hung low, even though the only glance she spared in his direction lasted less than a second, if even that. It was funny, because she sounded angry, yet that look was nothing if not regret. His mind immediately sounded the alarms, get out before she kills ya—for real, it screamed, and yet even then, it was a vulnerable moment he'd never seen from the likes of her, and it was absolutely terrifying. If he so much as turned his head to stare at his feet, out the window, anywhere but at her—he knew she'd disappear, but not that look.

It would linger still.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Her voice was quiet enough that he heard her quill moving upon the parchment. And her gasp of frustration as the pen slipped and paper ripped.

“Rita darlin'... What haven't I told ya?”

The quill snapped instantly. “Don't play stupid with me. Your blastia, old man, your blastia!”

He kept his voice even—as if that would do anything to calm her. “...And what about it?”

Blastia. Was that more important than him? Why she'd wanted to speak with him? Or was it important because in a very real and disheartening sense, it was him?

“Oh, I don't know—maybe the fact that Alexei ripped your heart out and gave you a new one? That you were playing double-agent?” She still wouldn't look at him, keeping her face angled carefully away from his view. It was impossible to view her expression, even going by the reflection in the window. The fact that she was bringing up his past now, of all times... was ludicrous. “...It won't last forever, you know. That blastia. You do know that, right?”

Better than even yourself, m' dear.

“Well, I'd be pretty damn stupid if I didn't, now wouldn't I?” Rita didn't reply, instead crumbling the parchment before her, and stretching her arm slowly to her left, she held the tip of it over the lantern. It caught almost immediately, and Raven half expected for her to hurl it at him with some ugly words to boot, but she simply held it in the palm of her hand, the flames licking at it until it was a bright blob of oranges and reds and grays.

“This, right here,” she indicated, after a few seconds of silence, “could be you someday. That doesn't bother you?”

It did. But he wouldn't tell her that.

“Darlin', not sure you got the memo, but I've already died,” he said softly. “Few things bothers this old man, anymore...”

He realized it was the wrong answer as soon as he'd spoken.

She swore and swiveled in her seat to hurl the mass of fire at him, and Raven leaped to the side as it hit the ground in a bright expressive explosion of sparks and ash. A few particles landed on his jacket, but he didn't move to brush them away less she develop a better arm and send him through the wall.

“Urgh, you idiot!” she screamed, waving her arms. Her small, stick-like arms. They looked so incredibly fragile, yet she could hit as hard as any man he knew. “Don't you get it!? You could die! Again! Permanently! And that doesn't bother you?” Her voice was incredulous, horrified almost—and undeniably scratchy.

That's when he noticed the tears. It was absolutely horrifying.

“...Rita.”

“Answer the damn question, Raven.” She ground it out between clenched teeth, fists squeezed tight at her sides. He yielded at last when he noticed the ink stains on her clothes, the way she was slightly leaning against the chair for balance, and that look that was just made of stubborn etched into the fabric of her face. And the tears. They certainly weren't helping.

He could try all he wanted to ignore her, outwit her, or even annoy her, but she always won in the end, whether the situation was a competition... or not. She had a way of testing even his limits, and as far as most people knew, he didn't have much in the way of limits to begin with.

He sighed. “...Nobody really wants ta die twice, darlin'...”

“Be specific.”

“I don't wanna die twice, genius mage.”

She gave him another raging look. “Don't be such a smart ass.”

“Don't be such a pessimist, then. It's bad for yer mind, docs say. And please,” he added, “please stop yer cryin'. I hate it when women cry.”

She stomped her foot in frustration. “I'm not crying!”

“Hey hey heeey now sweetheart, age doesn't always dim the eyes...”

“I'm not crying,” she said again, and he almost had to wonder who she was trying to convince, because he wasn't taking the bait.

She finally calmed down slightly, swiping her messy hair from her face with a shaking hand before forcefully sitting down again, obviously trying to save face but being unsuccessful. Her knee banged the desk as she folded in on herself, a loud disturbance in an otherwise noiseless room, but she didn't notice, or simply didn't care. It was more than likely the latter, as if his teeth were rattling from the force of the blow, hers probably were, too.

He was tempted to say something along the lines of, “Cryin's not such a great thing, either–” or “Darlin', of all the things ta cry over in the world you choose me?”, but either or, the end results would still be the same, and the singed curtains in the corner from their last stay weeks before would catch fire again.

Suffice to say, he was at a loss as to what to say next. The great Rita Mordio crying—and over him no less. The apocalypse had to be on its way then. “So... What's this all about, anyway? Ya plannin' somethin'?”

She ignored him.

“Oh, c'mon. Don't be selfish, Rita darlin'–”

“I want you to let me fix your blastia. I need to check it.” Her voice was quiet, and her words disturbing. Between the two, he didn't know which startled him more.

“...Huh?”

To her credit, Rita's voice was hardly scratchy anymore. She cleared her throat. “This... conversion process that I have in mind to stop the Adephagos... when the blastia are converted to spirits, I want to make sure yours won't be one of them.” She placed her chin in a palm and eyed his chest from the corner of her eye, tapping her broken quill rhythmically. “That hermes blastia that's keeping you alive may have been working since the Great War, old man, but since it was installed by the likes of Alexei, I don't trust that it was created with the idea to last forever in mind. Alexei thought to use you as a tool until he got what he wanted, and therefore, you were expendable to him. It needs to be examined for me to be sure that something won't go wrong later. And I know it runs on your vitality, but... like I said, I don't trust Alexei.”

He didn't even acknowledge the last bit. She might as well have simply said, you need your head examined, because that's all he heard.

Raven sauntered over to her desk after a few seconds passed, satisfied that she wasn't plotting his execution. The fact that she even remotely cared was rather touching, he found, considering her vileness and desire to maim him more often than not. The idea of having his heart worked on was still strangely repulsive, however. He doubted the feeling would ever leave him.

“...You sure about this?” What, you need peace of mind that I'm not going to die again? She nodded her head softly, exhaustion evident. Raven stroked his stubble, then gave her a sly look, because depression really wasn't his favorite type of gig. “...Well, if you wanna see my bare chest that badly you could have sa–”

“Old man, don't make me hurt you.” Her voice came out scratchy again, and Raven mentally kicked himself, because it was hard to remind himself that she was just as fragile as every other girl out there.

“Right, sorry sweetheart. So... ah, when do ya want to do this 'examinin' ' of yours, anyway?”

Rita glanced back at the paperwork scattered across her and the other girls' mattresses, frowning. “I'd prefer to do it tonight, but we can't do it in here.” She blinked and turned her head away, flipping through one of the various open books she had open on the desk. The yawn didn't go unnoticed, even when she slyly covered it with a hand. “Let's try it i–”

“Hey, if yer gonna be noddin' off like that, I don't want you pokin' around in my heart this evenin'.”

She glowered almost instantly in response. “What are you talking about? We have to do it tonight while we have the time–”

He held up his hands. “Lookie. I'm not plannin' on goin' anywhere, darlin'. We have all day tomorrow and the day after that, too, ya know. Sleep's important, so do us both a favor and get some beforehand alright?”

She frowned, but didn't argue. “...Fine,” she conceded after a few agonizing seconds, “But tomorrow, you have to let me for sure, okay? I doubt our free time will last us for long.”

“Sure thing, m' dear. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He performed the action dramatically, bowing his head in a flourish, but Rita didn't pay him any mind, absently turning several more pages in her books. He really doubted she was even reading a word, so lost in her own head.

She's probably read that book a million times and still countin'... knows every word, I'd bet.

Raven stood still for a few moments, simply watching her. For having been so worked up only moments before, she sure had calmed down faster than he'd expected.

...Silly teenagers. It's all those crazy hormones actin' up–

“Hey. I'm goin' now. Want me ta send the princess up?” Rita stifled another yawn, leaning back in her chair.

“Nah,” she answered, gesturing around the room. “Like there's any place for her in here. I mean, she can come up if she wants, but now probably wouldn't be a good time...”

“Last I heard, she was with Yuri.”

“Mm-hmm... Not surprising.” With a sigh, Rita closed her book with a finger and stretched her limbs. Several cracked, and Raven winced with the realization of a that's how his back sounded in the morning. Another resounding pop filled the room, followed by a contented sigh. “...She'd follow Yuri anywhere, you know. Doubt he even realizes it, though, the stupid idiot...”

“My my, darlin'... Yer soundin'... kind of touchy 'bout that.” Raven's smirk was small, but she gave him the stink eye anyway after a few seconds passed, and only then did he realize she still hadn't forgiven him. Was that what she was so upset about?

“Yuri's adept at being a moron. I'm just concerned for her, okay?” She sniffed in dismissal, turning her attention back to the scattered documents at her side. “...Also, you can go now, you know. I don't need to be under constant surveillance by the likes of you.”

Raven peered out the open window and down onto the streets below, stroking his stubble thoughtfully again, because his skin was thick and Rita' insults were only justified. “Well, see here darlin'... I gotta socialize with someone. Our little princess friend asked me ta keep an eye on ya... gave me a whole earful 'bout it, too.” He gave Rita a pointed look. “I'm just simply doin' my job, see...”

Rita looked momentarily caught off guard, but then her eyes narrowed. “Stop kiddin' around! It's not like there's a reason why she would have to worry about me. She was probably concerned about you doing something stupid and is having me watch you. Now get out before you die prematurely... you're becoming annoying, old man.”

The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

Raven immediately leaped away from the wall as she stood, a glowering beast at five-feet-two-inches. She snatched the book from her desk and smacked him on the arm with it.

“Hey! No need ta be so brutal!”

“Then get out!” He retreated across the room while she shuffled over to one of the beds, shoving a pile of papers aside. “...There. Now you can send Estelle up when she comes back, if you want.”

“What? Not making a place for dear ol' Judith?”

“If she wants to sleep here too, fine. I don't care.”

“Ya know, I be ya do–”

“Get out!”

Raven scurried over to the door like a cockroach, turned on his heal last minute, saluted her, and deadpanned straight face a “Yes ma'am,”, and Rita looked like she wanted to cry again. Maybe it was him, he thought, his presence that upsetted her so much.

Rita wiped at her eyes and tried to appear fierce, but the exhaustion was evident. Mental breakdown? “Look, like you said, I need some sleep, okay? So just... go. I'll see you tonight.”

Of course, her only way of dealing was with logic. What did that leave him with?

“Rita...” he tried again, but she just shook her head.

He supposed that it left him with nothing. Nothing would come of this.