If your count is higher than 719, then divide by 2...
Fly – A Rinch drabble based solely on the preview for next week’s “4C”
i’m so sorry
“Did you send that number up there for me?” He is not looking at me. He must be angry.
His voice is stern and empty.
“Mr. Reese, I assure you—”
“Don’t lie to me, Harold. I’ve learned to tell when you lie.” His eyes are so cold. He is frightening when he gets like this.
He slams his fist on my desk. He looks dangerous. He is dangerous. How often I forget. How often that smile of his makes me forget. He is not smiling now.
Bear is barking. He feels the tension. He doesn’t like the commotion as much as I.
“I said I wasn’t coming back.”
“I know what you said. I respect your decision.” I am lying again.
“No, you don’t. If you respected my decision you wouldn’t send cases for me to work 40,000 feet in the air.”
“Like I said, Mr. Reese, that was not my doing.”
He is laughing but there is no mirth in that laughter. It sounds amused yet there is an underlying air of menace. I never want to hear that sound again.
He is getting closer to me. He is so massive, standing this close, shadowing over me. When he wouldn’t look at me before, he is not tearing his eyes away now. I feel cold inside, this look freezes me.
“You are frightening me, Mr. Reese.” I did not mean to say that out loud, and if I had, I certainly didn’t mean for it to come out as shaky as it did. I sound like a child.
“I know, Harold.” He is whispering. I can barely hear him. It’s like he almost purred my name. He is a panther on the prowl and I am just his prey.
I can hear myself swallow and I am certain he hears me too. He now seems to be smiling. No, this is not the smile that I adore. This is the smile I recognize and have labeled his killer smile. No warmth and no joy. No sign of my John. I never thought I would be in the receiving end of this evil smile.
But I cannot stop looking at his face; as much as I want to turn away I am not physically able to.
I am terrified.
I am mesmerized.
“Don’t breathe, Harold.”
I barely have any time to register the fact that his request makes no sense because my mind is distracted now. I absolutely cannot breathe, not with John’s lips pressed firmly against mine. He is crushing me with this weight laden with desperation, anger, and desire. I feel the heat of his passion warm against my skin. I want to soak it all into my being; I want to return it in kind.
But I cannot.
He has stopped kissing me now. He is standing over me, I can feel him. I must remember to open my eyes; I do not know when they drifted to a close.
His eyes have warmed up some, but he is still angry. I can see it etched all over his face. The lust is gone, replaced now with the anger he feels at my reckless behavior.
“Don’t ever lie to me again.”
As he walks away I can’t help but remain unmoving, glued to my very spot. My whole body is in shock.
The taste of his lips is still fresh on mine. I am touching them, just to be sure that really did happen and it was not a musing of mine like many times before.
If this is to be my punishment every time I send a number to Mr. Reese while he is on a plane, then he must fly more often.
Here is your gift you lovely thing you!
Hope you’re not too disappointed.
A little Shaw/Root (Raw? Shoot? Sam^2) just for you!
The Gift (Such a clever name, no?)