DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil: Apocalypse is the property of Sony Pictures.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Ghost In You
My eyes are drawn in your direction, and I catch myself every time I look at you, always a second ahead of your awareness; I don't think I've met your eyes yet. You move so smoothly, with a clean, catlike grace that few have I've only know one other to. But, that doesn't matter now; that's in a past I can't really afford to relive.
"I have to talk to you." You say, and, an hour ago it would have been a demand. But now, after seeing what I can truly be capable of, it's a rough request, as if your voice refuses to allow you to ask and not take. "Now; alone." You add, almost against your will. I bite back a smirk at your smoky insolence, knowing you are trying so hard to rein in the Alpha Bitch; we both know that there can be only one, and we both know that you can't beat me. As I nod and follow you a short distance away from the others, I can't help but think that maybe you would die trying anyway.
"What can I do for you?" I ask, smiling indulgently, loving the spark of fire that practically leaps from your eyes.
"Listen," you begin, scowling a bit, though I can tell you are holding back; perhaps you don't want me to have the satisfaction that we both know I would get from riling you.
"You don't have to like me, that doesn't matter. But if any of us are going to survive this we have to learn how to work together, instead of constantly one upping each other." I snort as you say this, and you sigh, annoyed, but reluctantly correct yourself. "Instead of me trying to be the hero and you constantly one upping me." I give you a softer smile, and see you relax a bit. I admire that you are trying to be an adult about this, but know that in the end we will revert back to our pissing contest, no matter how noble your intentions.
"Jill," I say softly, almost whispering a different name. You nod, blinking at the interruption, but oh-so willing to listen. I lean in close, deep into your personal space, but you stand your ground, nostrils flaring dangerously. God, how like her you are, down to your smell. I breathe deeply through my mouth, tasting the similarities and the differences, rolling them around like a fine wine. Your scent seems to be more sweet then hers was, like brown sugar to her cinnamon, and it's all I can do to keep my eyes from fluttering in pleasure.
"Y-yes?" you all but whimper, and I focus again. You are not her, and I am not who I used to be besides.
"I'll try to suppress my need to be on top," I raise my eyebrow and you almost-blush, but refuse to acknowledge my double meaning, "if you do the same." I concede, and you release a quiet breath of relief. "But only after this."
Before you can react, my lips are on yours, and I am forcing you against a convenient wall with my body. You struggle a bit, startled, and I take advantage of your slightly parted lips to taste you more fully. Hands on either side of your head, I grind my pelvis into yours, swallowing the moan you cannot help greedily. You taste divine, like caramel and strawberries on my tongue, and I can't stop myself from pressing my length against yours.
After long moments, your hands stop pushing at me, and begin to pull me closer. As soon as they do I break the kiss, relishing the power I have over you, the power you have given me. I look down into twin pools of seething obsidian and shiver. With a growl you catch me off guard, spinning us around so that your small body now pins me to the wall.
Hungrily, almost angrily, you claim my lips, nipping hard enough to sting and make me almost weak. Your tongue plunges into my mouth and I groan, content to let you continue your explorations. Your hands gently I would say reverently, if I didn't know better trace a path from my hips to my neck, stroking lightly there, before tangling themselves in my hair. I begin to purr into your mouth, and feel an answering rumble against my chest. So much like her, it hurts.
A sudden burst of pain explodes in my chest, from my heart, and I tear away, gasping. It takes me a second to realize that the pain is emotional, not a physical one. Memories of her invade my mind's eye, and I am left shuddering against you, holding onto you for support. "What's wrong?" you ask, voice high pitched and frightened, and I drag my eyes to yours. Smiling with a reassurance that I do not feel, I straighten and drop an almost chaste kiss on your lips.
"Just memories, nothing I can't handle." I say dismissively, and I see the hurt in your eyes. Your face closes to me with an almost audible slam, and I realize just how open you've been up till now.
I am filled with guilt, but I refuse to dwell on it. "Come on; let's get back to the others." I all but order, turning without waiting and trudging back. I can almost hear her ghost in your voice.
"Fuck you, you bitch." You growl, striding up beside me, and spinning me around by my arm. How could you, you bitch! I look into your eyes, and I see her staring back at me, angry, confused, alone and hurting, like you are, and like she was, when I told her about my assignment. The same eyes, the same pain, that even I share, if in silence.
"My name is Alice," My name is Ada Wong. "And we will do what we have to, to get out of here, despite what happened right now." And I will do what I am told, despite how much I love you. "You got that, Valentine?" Do you understand Rain? Hard eyes of stone, both past and present bore into mine.
"Fuck you," you say tiredly, a hint of tears in your voice, and turn to rejoin the group. Fuck you; she had sobbed angrily, her last words to me before she stormed away from me, seemingly out of my life.
I follow behind, confident, smirking mask already back in place, just as back then. I know what I have to do, and I will get it done, despite the pain of her ghost, and despite you.
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