stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

Brenden seemed skeptical, everything about him was judgey, especially his eyes. The way that he watched her, the way that he spoke to her. It was like he intended to rile her as much as she searched for the buttons. A very hmm that dropped from her lips. If he wasn't her potential employer she would have wanted to smack that condemnatory look on his face. Yet, she drenches her words with that perfectly contrived sarcasm. Sarcasm made her avoid anything she wished to, made her slippery, untouchable. Her rage make her volatile like the eye of a storm. It made her a weapon instead of a defenseless human. Too many times she was the weak mortal. Too many times there were too many forces out of her control. Not anymore. She had looked into the darkness, searched for it, found a beauty within the chaos of it.

This man did not scare her, even as he furrows his brows at her and refused to bite her recklessly laid out bait. He refused to bite and it only made it all worse. Why she seemed so hell bent on it she hardly knew, it was like something within him she wanted to tempt, wanted to come out and play. He was so carefully contrived.

She awkwardly stuffed that folded paper within her pocket, ignoring his hand. She was the kind of woman who could pick herself off the floor every time she was knocked down. She was a fighter, everything about her was a warrior forged from the hot irons of hatred and never-ending disappointment. She stood and then took his hand with a force, a small glimpse that showed her resilience before shaking it.

Once he pulled away, he folds his arms across his chest, it only showed off those muscles bursting from his shirt. Warlock, she wondered instantly what he could do. Magic, she was drawn to it, curious of its limitations and its strength, its violence. He claimed he was a bad man and it only made her plush lips draw into a small grin. He was so grumpy, everything about him so entirely agitated. His brows furrowed in a look that seemed his usual resting face. Maybe it suited him, but would it wound him to smile? Maybe it would. "Is that supposed to scare me?" Because it didn't, in truth she wanted to know more. How bad was he? She had known bad, truly bad people. He just seemed like he was pissed off at anyone who foolishly wandered within his space. Or was he just a tortured soul claiming he was bad just so someone could soothe those internal wounds.

Harley was not for the faint of heart, and not for the weak souls. Those poor weak souls would be run over so fast and left wondering what happened.

Brenden then shows her that lame ass tour. She did not hide that emotion that she was entirely disappointed. She was all too curious of that basement, maybe it was where he hid the bodies. What kind of skeletons did this man keep? Was it really her business to find out? Nah. But did she want to. Oh, hell yes. She practically devours him with her eyes as if making him her next personal toy to play with until it finally broke.

No matter what she throws at his direction, he stands strong, like a physical metal barrier. Not even a freaking crack. There had to be one, she just hadn't found it yet. She watched his face, saw that jaw clench in that way that alerted her that maybe, just maybe he was faltering. Who was he really? Then suddenly, almost too suddenly he moves, blocking her pathway to freedom with his bulky form. She swore she could physically hear her heartbeat skitter within her chest like a frantic bird wanting to escape. She could feel the desk behind her, pressing into her backside. He smothers what was left of her personal space. Harley thought they stood close before, this took it to a whole new level. Maybe a logical feeling should have been fear, but she refuses to cower. That fire within her eyes never stop burning with intensity even if he could stand a chance against her physically.

She may have felt a tad small in comparison to him, but she would refuse to be helpless or falter now. Maybe she had pushed him too far with her last words. Maybe, but it was far too late now. Maybe she didn't care. The words had already been set free from her mouth. He unfolds his arms and the movement draws her attention, purple eyes flit back up toward his face, his nostrils flaring. He leaned forward and she didn't move, refused to move. Her heartbeat started a chaotic rhythm all of its own makings once more. He stroked her inner fire, it almost sent her ablaze. His intense gaze was fierce, something had snapped within them. She seemed almost curious of that darkness she saw in there. His voice was unlike anything she had heard. "I do not beg." She spoke evenly, fearlessly, even though her heart did something akin to somersaults. Vicious, dangerous and wild, what if she pushed just a little more. "But I can ask nicely." That sarcasm oozes from her, her eyes narrow. His presence was suffocating, she had to take deep steady breaths to remind herself that she could still breathe. She didn't know how long she could hold up like this.

There was a tension in the room, as though it would escalate. If that were at all possible. He took a step backwards, their gaze never faltering. But damn, it felt she could think again, could hear passed her own rampant heartbeat. She hardly anticipated that leather bound book sent rocketing for her midsection. She was too focused on him and lets face it, maybe a tad disoriented, not that she would let it show. The impact caught her off guard, almost made her double over. The shock couldn't be hidden from her features, her large amethyst eyes widened even more. She grabbed it before she let that rage flood in. His words spat out at her. It only poured gasoline on that violet flame within her. It roared like a wildfire that could hardly be contained in this petite human body. She grabbed that book, as though trying to jerk it from that invisible force he controlled. "Asshole." She hissed at him, a force of nature that shouldn't be fucked with. Perhaps they both were and here they both were..

Harley grit her teeth, hardly able to focus. How could she look at these drawings when all she wanted to do was claw at him. She struts around to the other side of the desk, putting much-needed space between them. The only thing was, she didn't stop there. When did she ever? In fact, she snatched her bags and left the same way she walked in. "Until next time." She muttered.. Not sure if next time would be such a good idea for either of them. After all, this whole encounter was only thirty damn minutes and they were both seething.

One thing was for certain was he definitely gave her what she asked for. Her mind was reeling with it.

Harley Westward