Warning

It's not how far you're willing to go, it's how deep you get yourself

            The door before me swung open at my touch. There was a moment in which I took the time to hesitate, thinking over my decision. The wind tugged at my katana, a gentle warning. With a quick intake of breath I entered the small tavern.

            Scents of cheap watered-down ale reached my nose, burning my nostrils. I chocked on the stale inside air. It was too much. It always is. Despite the shock to my senses, I took the first few steps to his table. It was empty, but that didn’t mean much.

            A hand grasped my wrist, stopping any further movement. I didn’t have to look back to know who was restraining me. “Let go or you’ll figure out how it feels to lose the other one.” He released me, so I turned to face him. Unconsciously, my gaze shifts from his face to the stub of his arm and back up again.

            As the man opened his rough mouth to speak, I glared at him from under my black cloak and long brown locks for all I was worth. He didn’t even flinch. “You know you shouldn’t be doing this.” Calm and even, with a hint of worry. It seemed to describe his entire person. How I hated him in that moment!

            “It’s my choice.” And indeed it was. Those words hung in the air until I turned back towards my goal. The seat was no longer empty.

            My breath caught as I stood frozen. His dark green eyes seemed to shine brightly in the small room. I felt a blush rise to my face as his gaze shifted to me. The rest of the tavern seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of us.

            He stood, breaking the trance that I had fallen into. Having nothing better to do, I began to walk over. Without as much as a second glance, he headed towards a set of stairs near the back. I followed wordlessly, having no thought to put voice to.

            How many times had this scenario played out? All of our moves had been perfected to the point where even our steps had a place to land. Halfway up he froze, his way of giving me a chance to turn back. My boot was placed on the only creaking stair. The noise prompted him to continue.

            This was our ritual, repeated to complete synchronization. Neither of us could quit, we both know that. He has something special planned for when I do. The first night – that clumsy, fateful night – he let me know that. He always has something hidden under that mask of his.

            Most people who spin his tales of legend always seem to mention that simple piece of fabric. They boast flawless pale skin hidden from the light of the world, an old mark of honour and rumour a hidden disfigurement. They’re all liars. None of them know him; not like me anyway.

            I like to delude myself into thinking I’m worth something to him.

            The door comes into view and I can’t imagine it being anything other than that. The rusted metal knob seems to shine far brighter than the other well kept silver handles. My hand is grasping it before I register the feel of the rough wood pressing against my cheek.

            ‘Just a game,’ I tell myself. Fear forgets to place itself in me. I feel excitement run through my veins, my breath speeding up to match the thumping of my heart. A thin sliver of cold pressed itself to my throat. His blade, I had learned long ago.

            “Why did you follow me?”He always seemed to be unaffected by everything. Curse him for that! His smooth voice made me relax before I could stop myself. There really wasn’t an answer anyway, the knife would make it suicide for any fool who dare utter a single word.

            We both knew what was coming next, but it didn’t make it any less painful when he removed my sword. For a warrior, death was preferred to being disarmed. He, being the same as me in that sense, chose that option to any other. I still couldn’t bring myself to even hold a feeling of dislike towards him.

            His breath caressed the exposed skin of my throat, replacing his instrument of death. For me, both were equally deadly. A clothed kiss was planted on my skin. His hand had replaced mine on the handle sometime while I was distracted.

            The door swung open, but there was no time to catch more than a fleeting glance at the new surroundings. He was upon me again, claiming me as his own. His covered lips sucked, nipped and caressed in all the right ways.

            I found myself yearning for more of this awesome and dangerous man. My cloak was removed gently as he left me to close off the entrance. The bed caught my attention so I took a step towards it, only to be tackled into the worn sheets.

            “What are you doing?!” It was hissed roughly into my ear – a strong contrast to our normal routine.

            I struggled for a few seconds until I deemed it hopeless. “It looked comfortable here,” I muttered into the blankets. The pressure caused by his weight lifted and I caught sight of a picture beside my face. Throughout all my coughing and hacking I could not make it out clearly.

            He reached over to open a drawer. My weapon made an odd clunking noise as it was dropped inside. This night would not be going like the others. A brief slam echoed in the room before leaving us in silence; my wide-eyed fear with his unearthly angry calm.

            I tried to hide my face from him, feeling so naked without my face covered. He responded by using a muscular hand to force me to look at him. Even with such a demand, I found myself staring at the beautifully marred skin before me. He frowned and I giggled. None of the bards could ever hope to capture this godlike figure with their rhymes or their ballads. Not a single one of them would ever truly see him either.

            He leaned forward and I spotted the mask lying over the papers I had landed upon. Without a moment’s hesitation I closed the gap between us. A thin string of saliva connected his scarred lips to mine as we pulled back for air.

            “What are you trying to hide?” I was sure of it now. He was the one causing our steps to falter. His mask – an open indication of discomfort – would not have been placed the way it was without reason.

“My business will remain as such.”

“Your business involves me.”

“You’re an assassin, don’t confuse us.”

            I hung my head at that one. It was true, a mercenary was different. Never mind the fact that it’s my father’s army he was being paid to fight. Granted he had yet to discover that fact.

            “It didn’t seem to matter before.” There was much I would have liked to add, but I could only get away with so much. He pressed me into the trapping fabric, watching my reaction closely.

            I spat up at him, knowing fully that he would catch it. He didn’t disappoint. With a quick buck of my hips I sent him tumbling onto the floor. My hands latched onto the sheets of secrets and I gasped.

            In my nervous hands were copies of the records for the army, my family’s army specifically. Full of rage, I dove for the drawer where my weapon was stowed away in. He proved the faster, giving me an extra push that sent me headfirst into the solid wooden door. My vision blurred as I tried to regain my bearings.

            His larger frame pinned me securely to the floor in mere seconds. “You should have just let that be,” he said in a singsong voice, clearly taking pleasure in being able to mock me.

            “May I ask your name?” I hadn’t bothered with formalities before now. They were the reason I had started what I was doing now anyway.

            “Diablo, sweetie.” I was almost glad that he couldn’t see my face at that point, not that it really mattered. All the tales I’ve heard, they’ve always been about a nameless sellsword who only showed his enchanting green eyes.

            It makes sense now. He, whose name is considered taboo, and me, who had forsaken all ties to my past. In a sick way, him choosing me over countless other women seems like perfect logic. He wanted someone he could relate to.

            I lay flat on the cold, wooden floor. He leans back enough to see the defeat written clearly on my face. “I told you, Leahiil, there are some things you just leave alone.”

            My eyes almost popped out of their sockets at my name rolling off his lips. It sounded like sin. How he had figured it out, I’ll never know.

            His tongue licked my ear and I pulled him into a tight embrace. “You knew from the start.” I felt rather than saw his nod. It was unfair, but he wouldn’t do anything. He had me trapped with his plan.

            Neither of us could do little else that night other than indulge in all the pleasure the other could give. This would become part of our new routine. We were only human, so there feelings were mutual. Being human meant being feared and accepted. For us, we were content with having a little of both from each other, never being strictly one without warning.