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Post by Thatcher on Jan 8, 2008 20:15:12 GMT -5
"Not...yet..." *he said through gritted teeth.* "Live or die, you'll do it in my arms."
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Post by Christine on Jan 8, 2008 20:27:21 GMT -5
((PM'd Thatch.))
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 20:27:28 GMT -5
You're going to die, *her mind screamed.* In Thatcher Caine's arms.
*Tears welled and slipped over her cheeks. Her breathing shallowed and she started to feel faint. She swallowed repeatedly, trying to clear the taste of blood from her mouth, and yet it remained. She swooned slightly but her knees didn't give way. She blinked. Maybe the wound wasn't that bad. Maybe she could convince him...maybe. She cleared her throat.*
"Oh...yes, I see. I feel much better. Please, you can let me down now."
*What she couldn't see was that the wound had slowly started to close.*
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Post by Thatcher on Jan 8, 2008 20:31:07 GMT -5
*Thatcher felt the ragged edges of the flesh beginning to close beneath his fingers.*
"Yes," *he hissed.* "Stay with me...hold on..."
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 20:36:14 GMT -5
*Panic was flooding Sylvia's mind, but she fought to keep some semblance of control.*
I'd hold on a lot better if you'd let me go.
*She squirmed with new resolve, trying to free herself from him.*
"No. Please...I need you to stop now, Thatcher. You've made your point..."
*She looked tired, but the wound was healing nicely.*
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Post by Thatcher on Jan 8, 2008 20:38:37 GMT -5
*Thatcher traced his fingertips over her skin even as the pink slash of a scar faded from sight.*
"It gets better...easier...faster...you're tired, now, so it took longer..." *he said reassuringly.*
"Now," *he said, grinding his hips against hers.* "...what was it you wanted?"
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 21:04:34 GMT -5
*Sylvia frowned slightly, turning her face from him, the panic having cooled her earlier need.*
"My wrists...you promised."
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Post by Thatcher on Jan 8, 2008 21:07:03 GMT -5
"I did, didn't I?"
*he released her hands, but his body stayed pressed to hers.*
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 21:10:27 GMT -5
*Sylvia winced and rubbed her wrists. Then she pushed against his chest gently.*
"Please...a little air? The whole thing...it's a bit overwhelming."
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Post by Andrew on Jan 8, 2008 21:24:56 GMT -5
***POSTING AS THATCHER***
"Yes. Of course." *He kissed her brow and released her.*
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 21:36:33 GMT -5
*Sylvia fell to her knees, scrambling for the blade he had discarded. She wielded it in front of her, her expression one of frustration even in the throws of her exhaustion.*
“What kind of sick fu…”
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Post by Andrew on Jan 8, 2008 21:38:48 GMT -5
***POSTING AS THATCHER***
"You're welcome," *said Thatcher flatly, his back to her as he reached for his shirt.*
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 8, 2008 22:17:47 GMT -5
*Sylvia stared at his back, uncomprehending. Was she truly so nonthreatening? She frowned. She should kill him. Kill him and be done with it. Get out of here. She stood and took a step towards him. It felt wrong. Something did. She rushed him, trying to force away that feeling (was it guilt?) She pressed the blade roughly against his bare back, but there was something that stayed her hand. She tried not to let her voice waver too much.*
“Let me go.” *She growled, trying to sound serious.*
“I need to see a doctor.”
*Her voice wavered and her hand trembled.*
“Please, Thatcher…I don’t want to die.”
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Post by Thatcher on Jan 9, 2008 0:09:50 GMT -5
"You're not going to die, Sylvia," *he said, an edge of impatience in his voice, as though he were dealing with a child.* "You're immortal."
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Post by Sylvia on Jan 9, 2008 0:17:34 GMT -5
"But..."
*Sylvia frowned, stretching to feel for the wound he had inflicted. There was so much blood, but...but.... She dropped her gaze to look better. There was nothing. She rubbed her skin repeatedly in disbelief. Only when she looked back up, jaw agape, did she realize that she had inadvertently slid the blade a few inches into Thatcher's back in her stretching. She gasped in alarm, withdrawing it again quickly and dropping it to the floor with a clatter.*
"Oh, I'm..."
*Sorry. That's what she had meant. But was she? She had just tried to threaten him with intent to kill only moments before. But things were quickly making less sense.*
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