Medea AU - post Firetrap

[shelley_winters]

Much later, dressed in his robe, sitting in his bedroom, on his couch, Shelley miserably reflects that she'd very nearly had a way out there. Nearly.

She'd felt it all go dark, even the pain had been stopping until- No. He had to arrive, and doesn't it just figure that he won't let her die except when he kills her? She shuts her eyes bitterly, staring in anger at the door.

Dark thoughts come easily just now.

Comments

[shelley_winters]

"If there were a reason not to, apart from the obvious not wanting to see you, I would have actually said no."

Shelley sees his- well, she doesn't, but she carries on glaring regardless.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A note of smug confidence in his voice as he inquired.

"Am I not pleasant to look at?"

[shelley_winters]

Shelley grits her teeth, glaring, if possible, even harder.

"No, you are not."

Really, did he expect anything else?

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A smug laugh as Ishamael walked into the room. A confident smile on his face as he glanced at Shelley. He knew what she thought, what she said was often quite the opposite.

"Oh... You wound me, Lady Shelley."

[shelley_winters]

"Good."

She glares up at him from her curled position on the couch before her eyes drop to the floor, which she stares at mutinously. He is not. So not. She hates looking at him.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A smooth motion, like water flowing, as Ishamael sat down on the couch next to her. A small smile on his face as he folded his feet under him.

No words, just a quiet, almost shy look on his face as he watched her.

[shelley_winters]

She looks up angrily sideways at he sits, affronted - and under that, perhaps just a little afraid.

"What?"

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A tilt of his head as he watched her. Blue eyes scanning red hair, and pale cheek. A touch of a smile.

"Does there have to be something?"

[shelley_winters]

"There probably should be, with the way you are staring," she says grumpily, and not a little edgily.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael laughed quietly and reached out his hand to touch her shoulder delicately. The tips of his fingers slid along her shoulder. A soft giggle.

"...Staring..."

[shelley_winters]

Oh no.

Shelley pulls herself more violently than strictly necessary out from under his reaching fingertips, and off the couch. Her eyes flicker across the room. One way lies the bad and the window - no, the other lies the door. Promising.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A glance up at her as Ishamael slid down to lie on the couch. His face glancing out towards the door. A strangely distant look as he said nothing, a touch of confusion on his face.

[shelley_winters]

Door seeming ever more attractive, Shelley continues to back, expression cold. If he is feigning this, she will not fall for it...

Not that he needs to feign weakness to trap her, and she shivers at the reminder of her imprisonment.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Slowly, the look on his face sharpens, and a hand rises to his mouth. A slightly worried look on his face as he stared intently at a spot on the wall.

That did not make sense. Why did he lose his focus?

[shelley_winters]

Shelley could have hazarded: Because he's insane?

As it is, she reaches cautiously for the door handle. She doesn't want to be near him, ever. He may have brought her here, but just because she lost that battle doesn't mean she will no longer fight.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Not moving at all, nor even looking at her, Ishamael spoke with a quiet, curious tone in his voice.

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Lady Shelley?"

[shelley_winters]

"Away from you," she says shortly, tugging it open.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Laughing quietly to himself, he said nothing more, and did not move as she opened the door.

Space.

It was important, and he said nothing more. Blue eyes staring at the wall. The patterns were interesting, different. He had not noticed.

[shelley_winters]

And she runs, wishing as she does that she had shut the door behind her. It is late, and thunder rolls, but she runs through the dark until she finds an empty room. Breathing fast, she steps in, not bothering to find the lightswitch but going straight to a corner. The robe she wears is black. Hard to see.

It is a library, or something like, and she borrows a cushion off one of the chairs to pillow her head on. Quietly the girl lies down on the floor, listening to the rain and trying to go to sleep.