Waiting on the bottom step for him to pass with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ scowl imbedded into my features, a soft chuckle escapes his crooked lips and he disappears. Creep. Rounding the bannister and reaching out for the hidden door’s handle, I can already hear Meg’s singing. Inching down the stone steps, I take a moment to listen to the eerily beautiful words leaving her lips, speaking of unfulfilled dreams and forgotten wishes. The electronic lanterns I left on are still faking flickers across the grey walls and casting shadows within Meg’s cell via the open grate. Reaching into my hoodie pocket, I remove the padlock’s key and unhitch the chain before slipping inside.
“Good morning,” Meg halts mid-lyric to beam up at me from her place on the floor. “Well, if it’s even morning? I slept like the dead so who knows. Oops, maybe I shouldn’t be using that metaphor – yet.” She giggles to herself, sitting upright in an electric blue sleeping bag. Foil packets glint in the dim lighting and an empty bottle is beside her head. Oh Rachel, your big heart is going to get you in so much shit.
“It’s morning,” I confirm gruffly and hold the container out for her, ignoring her jab about there being no coffee. Shutting the door behind me, I reach through the grate to secure the padlock in place and slump onto the hard floor. Meg groans loudly, chewing on a rasher of bacon with her eyes closed. Her hair is a ruffled mess around her shoulders like she’s been fucked each way until Sunday, and I hate to admit I prefer it that way. My t-shirt still hangs from her, the short sleeves making me feel cold even through my two layers of clothing.
Remembering why I’m doubly dressed, I pull a rolled-up t-shirt from the pocket of my extra hoodie before shedding it, along with my top pyjamas and socks. Throwing them across to Meg, who is too huddled over her food to notice, I watch her with fascination.
“Does anything ever affect you?” I have to ask, knowing I would be going insane already if the roles were reversed. Is she incredibly resilient or has she in fact already floated about with the fairies? Snapping off a chunk of the lid to use as a scoop for her eggs, she shrugs at me.
“Only if I let it. But I’m more interested in why I’m being honoured with a visit from Perelli’s puppet himself. I thought you’d be too busy being patted on the head for being such a good boy to show your face down here again.” My eyes slide away, refusing to be goaded, noticing the toothpaste and soap on the sink, and shaking my head slightly. Shall we just order her a personal masseuse and get it over with?
“I was bored, thought I’d come to torment you for a little while. Or we could wrestle again, that was good fun.” The devil is definitely present on my shoulder today, pushing me to play a dangerous game I might actually end up enjoying.
“If you are looking to have your ass handed to you again, I’ll always be ready. But considering this cell is small enough without you slumped across it, how about I beat you at something else?” Placing down her empty container, Meg now sees the clothing and hurries to dress.
Standing before me, she lifts the hem of my shirt she’s wearing and slips it over her head in one movement. My jaw literally drops, finding her bare underneath. I’d tried to avoid looking during our shower but now, with the light bouncing from her hardened nipples and the shadow curving beneath her full breasts, my tongue is threatening to hang out of my mouth. The hourglass dents to her waist sway as she stretches for my benefit until I manage to grit my teeth and look away. A shudder rolls along my body and through the hardened length of my cock as she dresses, my fingers itching to stop her.
A small rock bouncing off my chest has me swinging back to see her sitting once again, cross legged and grinning ear to ear. She’s tucked the pyjama legs into my socks which reach halfway up her shins and zipped my hoodie all the way up to her chin. Leaning forward with her own rock in hand, she uses it to draw a grid on the stone slab between us and puts an ‘X’ in the top left-hand corner. Is this seriously what it’s come to?
Snorting, I place a ‘O’ in the centre. She sniggers as if I’ve already made a mistake and plays her next turn while rolling her tongue across her teeth. A challenge lights in her eyes, daring me to try and beat her. I continue to thwart her every move until I realise my mistake, seeing too late she has three corners and will win by default. Refusing to see that happen, I draw a new grid next to it and we start over. And over. And over. Until the floor is covered and we’ve shifted onto the walls.
I’m too distracted by her body language to concentrate, losing game after game of fucking noughts and crosses because she’s pushing her tongue into her cheek or nibbling her bottom lip. Pushing up onto her knees, she leans across me to place her damn ‘X’ on the space next to my mark, her body pressing against mine. My mouth is too close to her jaw, filling me with notions I shouldn’t even be considering.
“Wouldn’t it have been nice if we’d could have had a chance to do this, you know…before.” She turns her head, the gleam of her eyes looking directly into mine. I sit back on my feet to put some distance between us, needing to clear my head.
“You wouldn’t have spent time with me willingly before you were forced to.” I respond not liking how desperate
