Status: Completed
Eyes Like Ice
Bruises and a Truce
"What happened, Riley?" I asked stoically when Riley walked into the choir room the next morning. His face was badly bruised along with his arms, showing from the short sleeves of his blue T-shirt. His legs were hidden by a pair of faded blue jeans, so I couldn't see if any damage had been done to them, but I was guessing he had at least a couple of bruises down there as well.
"Nothing," the boy growled as he sat down beside me, acting as if his injuries were invisible.
"These," I lightly touched three of the bruises on his face as well as his black eye, "were caused by nothing?"
He knocked my hand away and glared at me. "Yes." That was when I noticed the bruises in the shape of fingers on his left wrist.
I gently took the injured limb in a single pale hand, carefully tracing the bruise with the long fingers of my free hand while saying softly, my voice still emotionless, "Who did this to you?"
He roughly yanked his arm from my grip and snarled, "No one."
"All right." I looked away from him calmly and added, "If you decide you wish to talk sometime, though, I'll listen."
His anger seemed to almost vanish when I said that, but before he could speak again, the bell rang, and class began.
-
Eventually, class ended, and that incredibly short, oddly placed homeroom began. Once everyone was sitting down, I stared at the floor while Riley stared at me.
Several minutes passed before he finally looked away and said quietly, "My dad did this."
That actually surprised me a little bit. I could understand him being mugged or something, but his own father beating him...?
All I said, however, was a stoic, "Why?"
The human shrugged. "I got home late after walking you to your house, he was drunk, he got angry, and he hit me."
I felt a strange emotion building inside me. I think it was the one people called 'sympathy'...
"I apologize for making you late." 'Sympathy' was now mixing with 'guilt', creating an unpleasant feeling within me. Why did this one pathetic human make me feel so much?
Riley looked over at me, surprised. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. I'm the one that wanted to walk you home, remember?"
I nodded, my gaze remaining on the dirty tiled floor. "Would you like me to walk you home tonight?"
"U-um...Sure...If you w-want to, anyway," he stammered, his wide brown eyes focused on me.
"All right. We'll hurry today so your father won't harm you." I looked over at him with my contact-covered eyes. "Shall we meet out front after school?"
"S-sure." Shock was soon replaced by happiness, and a smile spread across the boy's face.
"All right." I stood when the bell rang and picked up my bag. "I'll see you then." And with that, I left for my next class.
-
I exited the school at 2:30 after enduring another day of utter boredom. Riley was, of course, waiting for me, smiling when he spotted me.
"Hi, Raven," he greeted me while walking alongside me.
"Hello, Riley. How was your day?"
"It was fine. Except for all the people asking who beat me up." The normally happy boy frowned and crossed his arms. "It got a little annoying after a while."
I nodded slowly. "That's understandable."
"I guess so..." He looked over at me, stared for a moment, then looked away, and we continued to walk in silence.
-
"Huh... Dad's truck isn't here," Riley mumbled when we reached his rundown, dirty, white one-story house, the driveway beside which was empty. "He must be at work already... Or..." The boy's expression darkened. "The liquor store." He forced a smile and looked over at me. "Would you like to come in for a few minutes? We can sneak you out the back if we hear his truck pull up."
I looked away from the house and nodded. "Sure."
"Okay," he said, his smile becoming less forced. He then led me up the crumbling cement stairs, through the old white door, and into his house.
The front door happened to be situated so it opened up into the living room. The carpet here was an ugly brown color that matched the dirty white of the walls. There was an equally ugly brown couch located across from the small TV setting near the front door, a small oak coffee table between the two pieces of furniture. Those were the only things in the somewhat large room.
"This is...nice," I lied emotionlessly.
"No, it's not," Riley said while closing the door and walking through the living room. "Thanks for saying that, though."
"You're welcome, I suppose," I muttered as I followed him.
He went through a door to the left, leading me into a small kitchen. It looked just like any other kitchen, albeit a little bit on the trashy side.
"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, opening the refrigerator. "We have some Mountain Dew, a can of Pepsi, and a gallon of milk that's only three days past its expiration date."
"No, thank you."
"Okay, then." He sighed and grabbed that lone can of Pepsi for himself, then straightened and closed the refrigerator door.
Almost as soon as he opened that can of pop and began to take a sip, the front door opened loudly and a man's voice shouted, "Riley? Are you here?"
Riley nearly spit out his Pepsi when he heard the man.
I simply sighed and, figuring out how I had missed the sound of a car pulling up, said, "I don't think he was driving at all."
The boy ignored my words and hurriedly put his soda down on the kitchen table before grabbing my arm. "Come on," he whispered, pulling me toward the back door. "We need to get you out of here."
"Riley?" The voice was closer to the door now, so I easily pulled my arm from Riley's grasp and simply turned toward it, knowing it was too late to leave now.
"Raven," Riley hissed, sounding almost pleading. "Come on."
"There's no point in trying to leave now," I stated while watching a muscular blond man step through the kitchen door.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, looking me over suspiciously. While he studied me, I studied him.
His blond hair was just like his son's, as were his brown eyes. He was a mere inch taller than the fifteen-year-old boy, but he looked far stronger. He wore a dark brown T-shirt and a pair of tattered jeans along with a pair of simple white tennis shoes.
"I'm Raven Guthrie," I answered, my calmness not fading in the slightest. "Who are you?"
"I'm Riley's father," he said, his eyes reaching my breasts and staying there, "Benjamin Valentine."
"Oh. So you're the one that hurt him?" I cocked my head in an innocent, confused manner while taking a slow step forward.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" The pervert's dark eyes had yet to leave my chest.
"Actually..." In the blink of an eye, I had the man pinned to the wall beside the refrigerator, my forearm pressing against his throat. "Yes, it is," I hissed, my fangs mere inches from his face. His eyes, now locked with mine, widened, filling with fear. "If you ever so much as look at him wrong again, I'll have to hurt you far worse than you've hurt him. Do you understand, Mr. Benjamin Valentine?" My voice was once again emotionless, mirroring the look in my eyes.
"Y-yes," the man choked. "I understand."
I released him and allowed him to fall to the floor. "Good." I turned and headed toward the door casually. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, Riley. Come to my house if anything happens before then."
"O-okay. Bye, Raven," Riley stammered before I exited the house, leaving both of the males in complete shock.
-
I walked into my own home a few minutes later, tensing the moment I passed through the door and smelled the scent of another Levellua.
My backpack hit the floor softly before I followed the smell, ending up in the living room.
"You're late," a familiar voice said when I entered the room. "And I can smell human all over you."
"Dominick?" I said questioningly when I saw the blue-eyed Levellua sitting on the large red couch, Miss Lumberton unconscious at his feet. "How did you get in here?"
The shirtless male shrugged, and I almost got distracted by those abs of his. "The door was unlocked, and this bitch was easy enough to knock out before she could call security or whatever."
"Why are you here?" was the next thing I asked, forcing my eyes away from his abs.
"I came to see you," the brunette stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why?"
He sighed, becoming the slightest bit annoyed. "To negotiate with you, of course."
"Negotiate?"
"Yes. Negotiate. My master wants me to kill you, but I don't think it would be worth it." He smirked one of those cocky smirks of his while getting to his feet and walking toward me, his sneaker-clad feet making no sound on the red carpet. "You're too pretty to die," he stated, reaching out and lightly touching my cheek.
I had the poor guy face down on the floor with both arms held behind his back before he knew what was happening. My legs pinned his down and my strength, almost equal to his, made it impossible for him to knock me off of his back from his current position.
"Are you sure that's the reason, Dominick? It seems more likely that you know you can't kill me," I stated stoically.
The shirtless male chuckled. "I could easily kill you if I wanted to, but I just can't stop thinking about how good you'd be in bed."
"You're a pervert," I said, my grip on his arms tightening. "I should kill you now."
He looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. "But you can't do it."
I released him with a soft growl and got to my feet, turning away from him while crossing my arms. "Yes, but not for the same reason."
Dominick got to his feet behind me, that smirk still stuck on his face. "Are you sure about that?" he questioned, whispering in my ear while allowing his arms to snake around my waist.
"Positive," I said, pushing him away from me and turning to face him.
He sighed and headed toward the door. "Ah, well. Maybe some other time." He paused in the doorway and glanced back at me, seeming serious now. "By the way, I simply came here to call a truce. Your master seems like a bigger bitch than mine, so if we ever find ourselves going after the same thing, I'll just let you have it. My master will understand far better than yours would."
I nodded. "Thank you, Dominick."
Another cocky smirk appeared on that pretty face. "Ya know, if you want to thank me properly..." His eyebrows raised suggestively, and I simply rolled my eyes.
"Go away, Dominick."
"Yes, Raven," the boy said, pouting as he walked out of the room, then out of the mansion.
I simply sighed, looked down at Miss Lumberton, then went up to my own room, hoping the woman wouldn't remember anything about being knocked out when she woke up.
"Nothing," the boy growled as he sat down beside me, acting as if his injuries were invisible.
"These," I lightly touched three of the bruises on his face as well as his black eye, "were caused by nothing?"
He knocked my hand away and glared at me. "Yes." That was when I noticed the bruises in the shape of fingers on his left wrist.
I gently took the injured limb in a single pale hand, carefully tracing the bruise with the long fingers of my free hand while saying softly, my voice still emotionless, "Who did this to you?"
He roughly yanked his arm from my grip and snarled, "No one."
"All right." I looked away from him calmly and added, "If you decide you wish to talk sometime, though, I'll listen."
His anger seemed to almost vanish when I said that, but before he could speak again, the bell rang, and class began.
-
Eventually, class ended, and that incredibly short, oddly placed homeroom began. Once everyone was sitting down, I stared at the floor while Riley stared at me.
Several minutes passed before he finally looked away and said quietly, "My dad did this."
That actually surprised me a little bit. I could understand him being mugged or something, but his own father beating him...?
All I said, however, was a stoic, "Why?"
The human shrugged. "I got home late after walking you to your house, he was drunk, he got angry, and he hit me."
I felt a strange emotion building inside me. I think it was the one people called 'sympathy'...
"I apologize for making you late." 'Sympathy' was now mixing with 'guilt', creating an unpleasant feeling within me. Why did this one pathetic human make me feel so much?
Riley looked over at me, surprised. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. I'm the one that wanted to walk you home, remember?"
I nodded, my gaze remaining on the dirty tiled floor. "Would you like me to walk you home tonight?"
"U-um...Sure...If you w-want to, anyway," he stammered, his wide brown eyes focused on me.
"All right. We'll hurry today so your father won't harm you." I looked over at him with my contact-covered eyes. "Shall we meet out front after school?"
"S-sure." Shock was soon replaced by happiness, and a smile spread across the boy's face.
"All right." I stood when the bell rang and picked up my bag. "I'll see you then." And with that, I left for my next class.
-
I exited the school at 2:30 after enduring another day of utter boredom. Riley was, of course, waiting for me, smiling when he spotted me.
"Hi, Raven," he greeted me while walking alongside me.
"Hello, Riley. How was your day?"
"It was fine. Except for all the people asking who beat me up." The normally happy boy frowned and crossed his arms. "It got a little annoying after a while."
I nodded slowly. "That's understandable."
"I guess so..." He looked over at me, stared for a moment, then looked away, and we continued to walk in silence.
-
"Huh... Dad's truck isn't here," Riley mumbled when we reached his rundown, dirty, white one-story house, the driveway beside which was empty. "He must be at work already... Or..." The boy's expression darkened. "The liquor store." He forced a smile and looked over at me. "Would you like to come in for a few minutes? We can sneak you out the back if we hear his truck pull up."
I looked away from the house and nodded. "Sure."
"Okay," he said, his smile becoming less forced. He then led me up the crumbling cement stairs, through the old white door, and into his house.
The front door happened to be situated so it opened up into the living room. The carpet here was an ugly brown color that matched the dirty white of the walls. There was an equally ugly brown couch located across from the small TV setting near the front door, a small oak coffee table between the two pieces of furniture. Those were the only things in the somewhat large room.
"This is...nice," I lied emotionlessly.
"No, it's not," Riley said while closing the door and walking through the living room. "Thanks for saying that, though."
"You're welcome, I suppose," I muttered as I followed him.
He went through a door to the left, leading me into a small kitchen. It looked just like any other kitchen, albeit a little bit on the trashy side.
"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, opening the refrigerator. "We have some Mountain Dew, a can of Pepsi, and a gallon of milk that's only three days past its expiration date."
"No, thank you."
"Okay, then." He sighed and grabbed that lone can of Pepsi for himself, then straightened and closed the refrigerator door.
Almost as soon as he opened that can of pop and began to take a sip, the front door opened loudly and a man's voice shouted, "Riley? Are you here?"
Riley nearly spit out his Pepsi when he heard the man.
I simply sighed and, figuring out how I had missed the sound of a car pulling up, said, "I don't think he was driving at all."
The boy ignored my words and hurriedly put his soda down on the kitchen table before grabbing my arm. "Come on," he whispered, pulling me toward the back door. "We need to get you out of here."
"Riley?" The voice was closer to the door now, so I easily pulled my arm from Riley's grasp and simply turned toward it, knowing it was too late to leave now.
"Raven," Riley hissed, sounding almost pleading. "Come on."
"There's no point in trying to leave now," I stated while watching a muscular blond man step through the kitchen door.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, looking me over suspiciously. While he studied me, I studied him.
His blond hair was just like his son's, as were his brown eyes. He was a mere inch taller than the fifteen-year-old boy, but he looked far stronger. He wore a dark brown T-shirt and a pair of tattered jeans along with a pair of simple white tennis shoes.
"I'm Raven Guthrie," I answered, my calmness not fading in the slightest. "Who are you?"
"I'm Riley's father," he said, his eyes reaching my breasts and staying there, "Benjamin Valentine."
"Oh. So you're the one that hurt him?" I cocked my head in an innocent, confused manner while taking a slow step forward.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" The pervert's dark eyes had yet to leave my chest.
"Actually..." In the blink of an eye, I had the man pinned to the wall beside the refrigerator, my forearm pressing against his throat. "Yes, it is," I hissed, my fangs mere inches from his face. His eyes, now locked with mine, widened, filling with fear. "If you ever so much as look at him wrong again, I'll have to hurt you far worse than you've hurt him. Do you understand, Mr. Benjamin Valentine?" My voice was once again emotionless, mirroring the look in my eyes.
"Y-yes," the man choked. "I understand."
I released him and allowed him to fall to the floor. "Good." I turned and headed toward the door casually. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, Riley. Come to my house if anything happens before then."
"O-okay. Bye, Raven," Riley stammered before I exited the house, leaving both of the males in complete shock.
-
I walked into my own home a few minutes later, tensing the moment I passed through the door and smelled the scent of another Levellua.
My backpack hit the floor softly before I followed the smell, ending up in the living room.
"You're late," a familiar voice said when I entered the room. "And I can smell human all over you."
"Dominick?" I said questioningly when I saw the blue-eyed Levellua sitting on the large red couch, Miss Lumberton unconscious at his feet. "How did you get in here?"
The shirtless male shrugged, and I almost got distracted by those abs of his. "The door was unlocked, and this bitch was easy enough to knock out before she could call security or whatever."
"Why are you here?" was the next thing I asked, forcing my eyes away from his abs.
"I came to see you," the brunette stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why?"
He sighed, becoming the slightest bit annoyed. "To negotiate with you, of course."
"Negotiate?"
"Yes. Negotiate. My master wants me to kill you, but I don't think it would be worth it." He smirked one of those cocky smirks of his while getting to his feet and walking toward me, his sneaker-clad feet making no sound on the red carpet. "You're too pretty to die," he stated, reaching out and lightly touching my cheek.
I had the poor guy face down on the floor with both arms held behind his back before he knew what was happening. My legs pinned his down and my strength, almost equal to his, made it impossible for him to knock me off of his back from his current position.
"Are you sure that's the reason, Dominick? It seems more likely that you know you can't kill me," I stated stoically.
The shirtless male chuckled. "I could easily kill you if I wanted to, but I just can't stop thinking about how good you'd be in bed."
"You're a pervert," I said, my grip on his arms tightening. "I should kill you now."
He looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. "But you can't do it."
I released him with a soft growl and got to my feet, turning away from him while crossing my arms. "Yes, but not for the same reason."
Dominick got to his feet behind me, that smirk still stuck on his face. "Are you sure about that?" he questioned, whispering in my ear while allowing his arms to snake around my waist.
"Positive," I said, pushing him away from me and turning to face him.
He sighed and headed toward the door. "Ah, well. Maybe some other time." He paused in the doorway and glanced back at me, seeming serious now. "By the way, I simply came here to call a truce. Your master seems like a bigger bitch than mine, so if we ever find ourselves going after the same thing, I'll just let you have it. My master will understand far better than yours would."
I nodded. "Thank you, Dominick."
Another cocky smirk appeared on that pretty face. "Ya know, if you want to thank me properly..." His eyebrows raised suggestively, and I simply rolled my eyes.
"Go away, Dominick."
"Yes, Raven," the boy said, pouting as he walked out of the room, then out of the mansion.
I simply sighed, looked down at Miss Lumberton, then went up to my own room, hoping the woman wouldn't remember anything about being knocked out when she woke up.