Status: Active :)

The Warrior


The paint dripped onto the hardwood floors and Irene blanched whiter than the three walls of the nursery. The mural was halfway done and she had just spilled red oil paint onto the expensive-looking hardwood. All the trust that Dayna had carefully built up would be lost, Irene thought as she panicked. Dayna had left her alone in the large house so Irene ran down the staircase and into the kitchen without abandon, wanting to fill the bucket she carried in her hand with water from the backyard.

She was stopped in her tracks by a 6"3, 218 lb man who lounged at the breakfast table.
"Something wrong?" He asked her casually, sipping orange juice and reading the paper, never once glancing at the young painter.
"Uh..No." She said quickly and escaped the presence of Brent by exiting the kitchen through the white French doors and going around to the water spigot at the side of the house. Irene allowed the water to fill the bucket up halfway and walked back into the kitchen, attempting to be casual as she clicked the door back into place quietly behind her.
Once she was past Brent with no further questions and out of view, she ran up the stairs, toting the water-filled bucket. The paint had begun to coagulate on the hardwood and she fell on her knees, grabbing the nearest thing to use as a rag to dip into the bucket and scrub at the red spots on the floor. She worried that it would seep inbetween the planks of wood and cause some sort of irreversible damage. They weren't the most logic of fears, but Irene had come from a lower middle-class household so she worried about damaging such expensive home decor.
Brent walked into the room and saw Irene scrubbing the hardwood with her sweatshirt and stayed silent, giving himself some privacy as he watched her work. He gave up on watching and entered the bedroom further, kneeling beside her and putting his hand on her upper back.
"It's okay, I've got it." He told her, grabbing a drop cloth from her supplies bag and pushed her sweatshirt away. Brent began to scrub and Irene said, "I am so so so sorry- it should come off the hardwood, I promise!"
He let out a barking laugh and Irene was sure she would have to pay for the damage. Her breathing became erratic when she thought of all her already-overdue bills.
"It's fine- it's only linoleum." He assured her, sitting back on his heels and showed her the red spots were now gone.
"Oh god. I'm so sorry!" Irene stood shakily and took the rag from him. "Thank you."
"Breathe, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay."
She tried to take his advice and took some deep breaths. He just stared at her, boring his own eyes into hers. The room seemed to crackle and it confused Irene.
No, she told herself, I am not attracted to this caveman.
He looked like he was going to advance towards her when someone called from downstairs, "Brent!"
Both of their heads turned towards the feminine voice and he glanced once more at her before bounding down the stairs. "Dayna."

Irene shook her head multiple times before she could even think of trying to process what had just happened. This man was married, and what did he think he was doing? He should have a child on the way, and yet there was still that tension in the room between the two.
She continued to paint like nothing had happened, but the event had wiggled its way into the front of her mind.
♠ ♠ ♠
Oh yeah, part 3.
I promise once BP&RL is finished, this will be high-priority for me and thus longer and quicker updates.
Yay for comments and stuffff! <3
Oh hey, read my Marian Hossa oneshot!