Dangerous World {Python}

[lyss]

Valentine Nicandro
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Should've kissed you there
I should've held your face
I should've watched those eyes
Instead of run in place
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

The curly headed boy laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, making constellations over and over again with the dots above him. It had been a while since he and Demeter had met, almost a whole month, to be exact. He hadn't seen her in a while, and he so desperately craved her again. Yesterday when he was coming back from training was going to be the day they would meet again, but he couldn't find her. He had to remind himself that she was probably with some other client.

It was hard to swallow that thought, and he didn't know why. He wouldn't admit he had actual feelings for her. Right now, they were just friends with benefits, sort of. Paying her kind of took away that being true. The money he had took away from his brother had never been noticed. It was probably because he seemed to replenish his stash so quickly.

His twin wasn't home now. He wasn't sure where he was, but he knew it was time to see Demeter again. He pushed himself of his bed and walked across the narrow hallway to Bravo's room. He shut the door behind him, so his mother wouldn't come in, and began to disassemble his brother's bed. Underneath all the sheets and covers and the mattress was an enormous pile of cash. He plucked three fifties from the pile ans shoved them into his pocket. He quickly pulled the mattress back onto the bed and sloppily made the covers.

While he tucked the covers, he debated taking Bravo to go see Demeter. The boy needed some excitement in his life. Thinking of this, though, brought a little bit of pain to his heart, and he knew he couldn't. He would be the only Nicandro to ever be in her presence. He blushed as he threw the pillows on the bed, knowing he did have actual feelings for the stunning girl.

As he examined the bed, he thought about what would happened if he told her he had actual feelings for her. They couldn't ever be together if she were to continue what she was doing. He would always be jealous of the other men that were with her, but if he were romantically involved with her, they would be more competition than other clients. He sighed as he walked out of the room, hating that so many things that he wanted, he couldn't have. Wanting a girl he could never have was something so different, something he had never had to experience before.

He pushed the thought away and crept over to the stairs and peered over the banister, finding his mother asleep on the couch. He quietly made his way down the wooden stairs and out the front door. He knew it would take a while if he tried to go to the building where he trained and then went to the buildings, but it would be worth it in the end. He thought about a variety of topics on the way there. He kicked rocks as he made his journey to the building, and he was in there in record time.

Soon, he had reached the building and looped around it. He was only a handful of yards away from the spot where he first met Demeter. He sprinted down the narrow alley and into open streets. He spotted the corner immediately, but there was no Demeter. He knew it would be too early for her to have a client yet, for it was only afternoon. Disappointed, her made his way home, cutting through the square.

To his surprise, there was Demeter, standing right before him in the middle of the square with a big, scary looking man. All Valentine could come up with was that she had gone to his house for him to fish out money, just as she had done with him. The man looked angry for some reason, but so did Demeter. The man took an intimating step towards her. He lunged for her, but she ducked quickly.

Valentine ran at the man, yelling, "Stop! Leave her alone!" He aimed his fist at the man's head, but he snatched the small fist and bent the arm behind his back. The man twisted and pulled the arm harshly. With his other arm, Valentine reached up and punched him in the eye as hard as he could, and the man stumbled back just a little.

The man growled at Valentine, and stepped around him, aiming for Demeter once more. He wondered what they had said, or done, to each other. She was so beautiful, with her long, blonde locks of hair, long legs and jade eyes. Maybe he had been some filthy scum, somebody who had no money even in such a rich district. Either way, he couldn't let this strange man hurt Demeter.

He leaped in front of Demeter, extending his arms. "Leave her alone," he hissed at the man. He would let the man do his worst to him, as long as he left Demeter alone. He didn't are if the man had paid him or not, he could cover for the man and himself. He wanted to get rid of this man quickly, and hopefully without pain, so he and Demeter could make sparks fly again.

[Python]

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Men are irksome creatures. Their emotions are simple to read, but a pain in the ass to deal. Demeter’s day had commenced peacefully; The sun warmed her skin, the clouds were drifting by and shielding the sun to temporarily relieve those who desired a break, and her grandparents had enjoyed a balanced breakfast. She walked out of her house with no intentions of seeking clients. She was, after all, in broad daylight. A business like her own could not be run before sunset unless visits were planned ahead of time. She was dressed properly for the weather, her selected outfit consisting of a green tank top, blue jeans, and a pair of boots. Her current mission was simple; Take a brief trip to the market and purchase vitamins.

Mayhem in the form of man always seemed to interrupt her harmless journeys. In the midst of her stroll, a large, horribly familiar man boldly approached her and requested her services. He was large in height and bulk, standing at least two inches above her. The ripples of his muscles were visible beneath his white top, pulsing as if itching to be used. Despite the variety of faces that were presented each day, Demeter was able to match this man’s features to a previous encounter. He was a past client, and a client she had never wanted to meet again. He was one of those clients--the ones who insisted upon smacking her around as if abuse was such a turn on. Demeter didn’t care what this man’s fetish was; she did not take beatings from anybody. Her last experience with him ended with bruised arms and a swollen cheek. There would be no revisiting that state.

Demeter was blunt with her rejection. She claimed that she was booked until the following morning. This only seemed to stir the fire within the man, though; testosterone, perhaps. He tried to bribe her with money, but she knew better than to believe his lies. The man was a cheap ass. His last payment had been meager and pathetic. Her bruises had lasted longer than that money. So, she denied his request and tried to send him on his way. Unfortunately, men who were swayed by physical desires were always persistent. He raised his volume and their bickering escalated. The lack of witnesses only added fuel to this fire. The men simply believed that he could do as he pleased, especially with no wandering eyes threatening him.

She managed to predict it before she spotted it; the man’s stance suddenly changed and the soles of his shoes shifted every so slightly. There was a dangerous gleam flickering in his eyes, like a roaring flame, and he bent his knees: he was prepared to pounce. She was able to move as he lunged, her reflexes kicking in. A giant fist whizzed past her skull, narrowly missing her temple, and she darted forward to move beneath his arm. With her adrenaline pumping and her heart racing wildly, it was easy to ignore the voice that echoed in the emptied District Square. Demeter was poised for an attack when a third figure abruptly came into view. A smaller fist soared through the air in a failed attempt to harm the man. His attack was countered when the man grasped his arm and viciously twisted it behind him. The series of movements granted Demeter a perfect view of the newcomer's face; It was Valentine.

There was no mistaking that head of curly hair. He was the boy she had met--how long ago? Demeter never counted days. But she did remember the experience. He was a cooperative client, quite opposite to the man he was now brawling with, and had received her services in one of her “borrowed” houses. She still recalled the morning afterwards, when she was forced to follow him to his home to collect her pay. He was a nice boy, to put it simply. And now he was playing hero.

Valentine managed to land a blow to the man’s face, distracting him for a moment, but he was quick to recuperate and focus his rage upon her once again. Valentine seemed unable to allow this, and leapt in front of her before either of them could move. It was a bold and somewhat foolish move, defending her in such a way. Demanding the man to leave her be. He merely scoffed and ignored the boy’s orders, still intent upon beating her to a pulp. Demeter would not allow that. She ducked and dashed beneath Valentine’s arms as the man lunged a second time. She swiftly reacted with her foot, landing a delightful blow directly inbetween his legs. Thank goodness for tender spots.

The man released a shriek that reminded her of a dying animal and instantly crumpled to the ground, holding his genitals as if the silly gesture would bring relief. With a slight flip of her golden strands, Demeter propped one hand upon her hip and stared at the man like an inferior.

”Let this be a lesson to you,” she started, her tone stern and cold like an icicle piercing the man’s tough façade. ”Never underestimate your opponent.” With that, she turned around, leaving the man to his whimpering, and walked up to Valentine. She gently grabbed his hand and moved to lead him out of the square. “Let’s go, Valentine.”

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