Draft: June 1

He was a prisoner of war. She is fighting for their rights. He hates the system she belongs to. They meet in the night. He takes her away from the scene and tries to make her understand. She holds on to what she believes in and he leaves her.

They meet again and she’s powerful. He’s a vigilante. He is now tasked to kidnap her for a hostage exchange. She sees him and trusts him. He abuses that trust. They get 6 of their best men, and the system loses 6 dangerous criminals.

She meets him in the night. He stares at her and she stares back at him.

“I trusted you.” She said.
“You should have known better.” He is smiling now, certain that she loved him.
“So should you.”

Bright lights surround their place in the night. He is taken prisoner and she watches as he kills four soldiers before he is put down. They can’t kill him despite of this. He has too much information.

He looked at her, his eyes flat and cold. She knew that if he managed to escape, and he probably would, that he would find her and it would all end. But she didn’t care what he did at this point. He had used her vulnerability against the system and everything she believed in. And yet after all that, the fact remained the she loved him. Why? Because she was a stupid human being. No. Stupid had nothing to do with it. She was human.

It wouldn’t do to take her life. She didn’t believe in such things. But this time there would be no denying him. There would be no more betrayals. She was sick of it, of her emotions. She would let him do whatever he pleased.

When he found her she was sitting in her own living room just watching the news. He stopped and looked around carefully, momentarily confused. “You know I would come looking for you.”

“I know,” She said, without looking up. “But honestly Gerry, what’s the point in hiding?”

Something about her tone angered him beyond belief. He thought he was mad at her, but the way she looked and how she said that offhand statement made him see red. With one step he was across the room and in that absurdly lethal instant, she was on her feet with a gun on her head.

Everything inside of him froze. He took in the sight of her, pajamas and an oversized t-shirt, hair tousled as if she had been running her hand through it all night and eyes that revealed nothing. Her finger was settled on the trigger, firm and sure. In a flash he knew he was about to lose her.

“Damn you.” He whispered, his eyes turning black with rage. “Damn you for even daring to do this!”

His voice cut her, hard and deep. Despite her anger and resolve, her stomach clenched and she felt the first stirrings of fear and uncertainty. What was she doing? Wasn’t she supposed to let him kill her? And then she realized she was threatening him by killing herself.

Tears were forming in her eyes and her willpower roared in protest. His quick eyes saw everything and his features hardened even more if that was possible. “Give the gun to me.” He bit out. “Give the fucking gun to me, and I’ll just kill you myself!”

It was too much, his voice got under her skin and suddenly she didn’t know what she was doing. In a sudden burst of energy she threw the gun at him hard and took off for the second floor. He caught it with a flick of a wrist and was after her, burning with anger and cold fury. She betrayed him and left him to be tortured and interrogated. She knew what the system was like and she let them take him, hell, she even led him to the trap.

But seeing her with that gun, threatening to kill herself—it had thrown him into a rage so unlike any other that he was starting to believe that he might love her, just a bit. For a moment, she was the girl who tended to his wounds in prison.

“Sarah…” He whispered. His steps faltered and he leaned against the railing, suddenly doubled over with pain. “Sarah…” She didn’t hear him. She could be climbing out the window for all he knew.

He leapt to his feet and scoured the rooms but she was nowhere in sight. He took to swearing and slamming his fists on the wall. It took a full minute before he could calm down. Looking around he realized he was in her bedroom, where the walls were pale yellow and everything was neatly kept in drawers and dressers. The queen-sized bed drew his gaze and settled on the dark velvet nightgown neatly folded on lilac sheets.

In the darkness he became aware of silence and the gentle sway of the trees outside her window. In the silence, memories of his interrogation, torture and imprisonment assailed him, and with it, the flooding of his senses. Her sweet scent was everywhere, taunting him with thoughts and emotions he couldn’t control. Tightening his fist on the trigger, he raised the gun and aimed it at the offending garment, lost in a wave of anger and despair.

“Spare the nightgown, please. It didn’t do anything wrong.”

In one fluid motion he stepped back and pointed the gun at her. He should kill her for what she’d done. He despised the system she was a part of, and she spit on everything he was fighting for. They were on opposite sides that could never reconcile. Only one would emerge victorious from this war.

Sarah had witnessed his frenzy from the other room. She knew there was something wrong because he didn’t find her, and that was what he was trained to do. But he had broken down and made a noisy mess of things, and that had put her off guard. She had come to him and saw everything, and this time she knew she wasn’t going to run away anymore.

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” She said slowly, and took one brave step into the room. She ignored the barrel of the gun and looked into his eyes. “I won’t run away this time.”

“I should kill you.” His voice was cold.

“I should kill you.” She said hoarsely and took another step towards him. “Because of you, everything that I’ve ever worked for is gone. Everything I worked hard to achieve for my city is in pieces! I hate you! I should kill you!”

“You did more than that.” He put the gun down. “You betrayed me.”

“You fucking asshole. You betrayed me first!” The fury built up, hard and fast and before she knew it, she struck him in the face and wound up flat on the floor, her wrist twisted and burning. It didn’t take much for him to take her down.

“I won’t let you do this to us.” Gerry said, and bent down to kiss her. In an instant, the pain on her wrist eased and he was on her, his body pressed tight and straining against her soft flesh.

“I hate you!” She sobbed, and fought in earnest, trying desperately to get away. “I hate you damn it, get off me!”

“I love you Sarah…” Gerry groaned helplessly against her throat. His hands slid down the side of her body and grasped her narrow ribcage, holding her tightly against him, doubled over by how much he wanted her. “Damn it, I didn’t want to want you…” He bit down on her throat and shuddered when she moved against him unwillingly. “Feel me Sarah, you know it’s true. God how I love you…”

Sarah was in pain. She felt him loving her, heard his rough words and knew they were true. It was a terrible thing, to be in love with everything that went against who she was as a person. But the pain and pleasure was a sweet combination, devastating and pure, divided and turbulent. She gripped his shoulders and felt him laugh, love and sing, the way he should have been if there had been no war.

There was no end to this, she was sure. But at this moment, all she could do was hold him and dream of a reckless future.