Summary: You are dating Leland's son. Your boyfriend asks you to tend to his childhood home for a few days, while him and his father go on a trip for about a week. Completely prepared to simply manage the house for seven days (possessing an empty home to do whatever you please), you soon figure out that things hadn't gone exactly as planned.
Warnings: Age gap, alcohol, drinking, misogyny, jealousy, inappropriate actions, perverted behaviors, obsession, and mentions of: The police, cigarettes, smoking, violence, cheating, death, weapons, suggestive statements, and sexual acts.
Word Count: 7,680
(Part Two)
Coyle had spent the entire day simply patrolling around town. Sure, it was better than just sitting within his office completing paper work, but that didn't take away from the reality that it was completely boring. The officer had spent hours aimlessly driving around the area, occasionally halting someone for speeding, but mostly just lounging within his vehicle. Sometimes, he'd purchase some sort of food or simply listen the radio, but nothing he would consider even relatively exciting.
After a long, grueling day of work, practically just waiting for something to occur, Leland had finally returned home. The cruiser pulled into the driveway with a squeaking halt, the radio completely silent as the officer shifted the car into park. Coyle released a rather exacerbated sigh as he brought his hands through his hair, completely disregarding his cap upon the passenger seat as he allowed his figure to slouch against the cushion. He relaxed his skull against the head rest as he attempted to regain his composure, gazing aimlessly towards the ceiling of the vehicle. The cop was entirely exhausted, with his feet aching, legs worn, and his mind completely drained. He yearned for nothing more than to march inside and collapse directly onto his bed.
Typically, following the conclusion of his shift, Leland would trudge into his house and immediately kick off his boots before finally enjoying a rather relaxing cigarette upon the rear porch, allowing the audio of summer birds and the subtle wind to gracefully calm him.
However, as his head lulled forwards and he peered towards the front porch of his home, mentally preparing himself to finally rise to his feet, a rather abnormal detail had captured his attention: The door was wide open.
Coyle was certain that he had successfully secured the entrance that morning. He specifically remembered fastening the door that morning, perceiving the audio of the latch clicking before he bound down the steps. Sure, he could easily defend himself against any sort of threat, a trained and experienced officer who was aware of the evil within this world, obviously he wasn't stupid enough to the leave the door unlocked, never mind wide open. However, as he continued to gazed towards the entrance, surveying the doorway as if it possessed the secret to the universe, he became even more confused. His brows furrowed as he released a grunt of curiosity. Maybe he had just simply forgotten?
Although, he was much less worried regarding the possibility of an intruder. Instead, he sighed at the thought of some pesky rodent venturing inside, making itself at home and welcoming itself to his food, as a result of his own carelessness. At least he could simply just shoot a robber. It would take months to properly dispose of a colony of mice or a family of procreating rats. Realistically, no one would be stupid enough to invade the home of a police officer, right?
Coyle begrudgingly pushed opened the car door, the metal squealing as the hinges squeaked beneath the weight. The afternoon sun instantly glazed his features as soon as his weary legs collided with the pavement. The intensity of the heat caused his brow to perspire and his vision to squint. He was slow to venture across the driveway, his movements heavy as he marched up the front steps and finally entered his home. However, his hesitancy was not the result of fear or unease. Instead, he was simply exhausted, his limbs worn and dragging with each movement. And he was only further irritated by the fact that he would surely be required to deal with some sort of mess after accidentally leaving the front door open.
Once Leland had properly entered his home, making sure to shut the door behind him, he paused at the entrance. Typically, he would immediately kick off his boots, remove his jacket, and wander into the kitchen in search of a refreshing beer. However, as he scrutinized the interior of the house, he soon discovered that the back door had been left wide open as well, within the same exact manner as the front entrance (with the door open but the screen properly secured, within the same fashion he would situate them upon a sweltering summer day).
Now, this surely hadn't been his mistake. Prior to his shift, he had not interacted with the back entrance at all. He had not peeked out towards the rear lawn or even fiddled with the lock. He was certain that he had not opened the back door that morning. Furthermore, he was aware of the reality that a mouse was unable to open a door as well. He obviously had an unexpected visitor.
Leland did not hesitate to traipse towards the backdoor, his steps heavy and his movements harsh, in an attempt to alert and possibly frighten his unwelcome guest. As he stormed through the screen door, Coyle was prepared to be greeted by some stupid burglar, a criminal who was foolish enough to rob the town Sargent, within broad day light at that.
However, as he arrived upon the back porch, peering across the rear lawn, the officer soon discovered that he had not experienced some sort of robbery that day. In fact, this specific guest was certainly welcome.
Coyle discovered the sight of a rather familiar young woman lounging upon a random reclining chair, basking beneath the sun and enjoying the summer warmth. A pair of sunglasses were parched upon the bridge of her nose, successfully reflecting the rays of illumination away from her vision as she perused through a novel. The officer did not possess a pool or any personal body of water, but she was situated within a bathing suit, a skimpy swim set that perfectly hugged her figure.
She supported a small bikini top and skirt-type matching bottoms, revealing the expanse of her abdomen and the length of her legs. The sun light engulfed her skin, causing a warm glow to vibrate from her form. Leland felt like some sort of sex deprived maniac within that moment, practically salivating at the mouth as a result of her exposed shoulders, dainty neck, and thin arms.
Could he be dreaming? After a long day of work, he just happens to return home to a young woman situated within his back yard, lounging beneath the sun with only the modesty provided by a rather scandalous bathing suit.
However, Leland was familiar with this specific woman, aware of her existence and informed of her name. He knew who she was: His sons girlfriend.
The cop had made a mistake almost nineteen years ago, allowing his girlfriend to become pregnant with his own child. Leland hesitantly allowing his partner to bear his kid and proceed with the birth. Sure, he was both young and naive, but he certainly wasn't ignorant towards the fear that accompanied such news. Coyle was petrified, often pleading with his lover to simply terminate the pregnancy. Yet, she would not budge. "Im having this baby, Leland, whether you like it or not." She had stated, her tone both firm and stern as he practically begged upon his hands and knees in front of her.
However, when his son, Michael, had been finally born, a new sensation had suddenly appeared within the officer's stomach, an unfamiliar and rather odd emotion: Determination. As soon as he viewed his child, perceiving the sound of his soft laughter and gentle smile, Coyle was motivated to protect his son. Immediately, he was aware of the fact that he would do anything for that baby, no matter how insane such a notion truly was.
And when he discovered his girlfriend cheating upon him, he just knew she had to go. Michael's mother had died a rather mysterious death, a passing that had been ruled as some sort of medical anomaly.
From then on, Leland raised Michael entirely on his own. He would accompany him to parent teacher meetings, support him during sport games, and assist him with homework. Coyle had raised that child into a young man, a son he was extremely proud of, especially when Michael eventually exclaimed that he wanted to be an officer, just like his father. And thats exactly what he did. Michael went off to college, studying both law and justice. And thats when his son had met his first, serious girlfriend.
Previously, Coyle had met the young woman once, maybe twice, and the view of her upon his back lawn caused a specific, and rather fond, memory immediately appear within his mind.
A few months prior, his son had been visiting from college, home for some sort of vacation, and he had brought his girlfriend along with him. Michael had planned some sort of dinner between the three, an occasion in which he could introduce his girlfriend to his own father, Leland himself.
She had been a rather shy girl, very pretty, but none the less timid. She was obviously smart, studying a rather studious degree at the same university as Michael. Occasionally, she would speak about her education or personal life, but she was generally quiet, simply nodding politely or expressing a respectful smile.
The young woman was obviously rather uneased by Coyle, intimidated by the fact that he was a police officer, with his jacket hung by the door and his cap disregarded upon the counter. She would occasionally glance towards his baton forgotten within the living room, or ask some sort of curious question regarding his career. For a girl actively dating a young man studying law, she was certainly rather nervous around such a topic.
She had been a wonderful guest, both polite and respectful within all the perfect ways. She would inquiry about Lelands career, compliment his home, and talk about herself when prompted, within the same manner every courteous visitor should behave. Even once the meal had concluded, the young woman had offered to clean the dishes and tidy the kitchen. And although Coyle had objected, stating that she was "much too kind" and he "couldn't possibly expect that of her," she had insisted. Therefore, as the officer and his son chatted, the young woman had attended to the small mess that had accumulated. She had even provided the pair with separate beers, without being asked.
In all honesty, Leland was rather impressed. He was surprised that a woman her age was capable of executing such feminine duties, without even being prompted. Coyle had previously assumed that the females of her generation were rather brash, irresponsible, and somewhat brain washed. He had observed the manner in which his coworkers daughters rejected any form of house work, denied proper manners, and completely dismissed their womanly expectations. Females were suddenly going to college, ignoring motherhood, and actually acquiring some sort of freedom. Woman these days had started to dress like men, talk like men, and act like men, and Leland couldn't have been more disturbed.
Except for her. The young woman had arrived supporting a rather modest dress, she utilized proper manners (such as saying "please" and "thank you" whenever it was expected), and she had even offered to clean. It had been a long time since Leland had observed a woman tending to his home, and he was unable to deny the fact that he rather enjoyed the vision of a young lady doing the dishes, tidying the kitchen, and managing the mess. She was all of the things a woman was expected to be, she was polite, quiet, and submissive, and Coyle was very satisfied by such a reality.
She had avoided confrontation as well, just as a polite young woman should. Leland believed that females these days were becoming much too confident, brave enough to confront their men and actually state their beliefs. It was completely absurd.
However, his son's girlfriend had been the exact opposite. Instead of defying Michael, the young woman had effortlessly dismissed each and every one of his rather inconsiderate comments. The young woman would simply laugh off all of Michael's insults, every occasion in which his son had stated "maybe I should just chain her to the washing machine, maybe then she would actually do the laundry." She would just respond with something along the lines of "You're so silly, Mikey." And when he would demand that she provide him with a new beverage, she would not hesitate to do just as she had been instructed. Coyle was rather impressed by her obedience.
However, as much as Leland was satisfied with her proper behaviors (acting both submissive and polite, as every young woman should), he was unable to ignore the sensation of frustration bubbling within his gut. Within the officer's mind, he honestly believed that the young woman was flawless, behaving exactly as a woman her age should. She would make a perfect wife and mother one day.
However, it was as if Michael possessed some sort of comment regarding each and every one of her actions. The young woman did exactly as Michael had instructed, but it was seemingly never enough. How could his own son treat such a nice young lady, a woman who had willingly agreed to be his girlfriend, with so much blatant disrespect? She was honestly perfect, with her elegant hair, sweet smile, and appropriate dress. She had willingly cleaned, was polite, and respected authority. What more could he possibly ask for? Coyle had to physically refrain himself from practically jumping over the table and teaching his son a lesson within manners, right then and there. He had certainly raised him better than that.
Leland wasn't ignorant to the manner in which she would occasionally gaze towards him, peeking across the table at him through her thick lashes. Her vision was always timid, with her features composed, and her attention completely focused, as if she was attempting to mentally decipher him. The young woman would gaze towards Coyle as if she was savoring the idea of her future meal, gaining a rather concealed, and somewhat inappropriate, view of her boyfriends father.
However, every occasion in which Leland would ultimately detect her gaze, eventually returning her stare with a matching regard of his own, she would swiftly detach her vision. The young woman would immediately stare down at the food situated in front of her, as if she had just been caught red handed. All whilst a soft, flustered blush glazed her features.
The officer was familiar with such an expression. It was the exact same gaze he would receive from infatuated woman upon the street, ladies who would adore his features, savor his satisfying appearance, and basically enjoy his entire existence. His son's girlfriend was looking at him as if she was prepared to pounce.
Coyle wasn't proud to admit it, but later that night, once Michael had finally vanished, taking his little girlfriend along with him, Leland had done some rather disgraceful things to himself at the simple thought of her soft hair and tender vision. He was completely unable to erase a rather specific image from his mind, the vision of the manner in which her dress slightly ventured up her thighs when she had stood form her seat at the end of the evening. He pictured the exposed expanse of her plush thighs as he pleasured himself, furiously stroked his cock to the memory of how she had desperately yanked at her dress as soon as she had detected Leland's ogling, and he finished to the simple fact that she had failed to regard his obvious affection. The young woman had not confronted Coyle following the many occasions in which she had caught him blatantly appreciating her existence. Instead, she had simply allowed him to continue, without any sign of objection. Certainly, she would make a perfect, obedient wife.
Leland had honestly believed that he would never once view the young woman again, that he had been introduced to her that specific evening, and that would be the end of it. The officer assumed that he would never interact with her again, due to the fact that Michael was sure to acquire a new girlfriend within the near future. His son was a rowdy teenage boy, experiencing his first taste of freedom, and there was no possible way that Michael would simply pick one girl and stick with her. No, certainly not.
Either that, or the next time Coyle would encounter the young woman was during the wedding shared between her and his own son. That is, if Michael had managed not to mess things up. She would make the perfect wife, and his son would be an absolute idiot to reject such an opportunity.
And Leland had accepted such a reality, acknowledged the fact that he would never once encounter her again (at least, not until she was formally invited into the family), and he was rather relieved by such a notion.
Leland had an awful tendency for capturing anything he even slightly desired. When he wanted something, he got it. Therefore, Coyle worried that he would be unable to ignore the rather fond sensation he was aquiring towards the young woman. He wanted that girl, that was a reality he was unable to dimiss.
Sure, Leland was a big fan of women and what they had to offer. He was a man after all, and he enjoyed both the affection and tender attention his previous lovers had provided him with. Yet, even more than that, he loved his own son. He would do anything for Michael, and the very last thing he desired was to ruin their relationship, simply because he was unable to keep his hands off of anything he wanted, including his own son's girlfriend. Leland was aware of the fact that he was rather smitten with the young woman, and the very last thing he wanted was to become a victim to his own urges, to collect the young woman as yet another notch upon his belt, and in return, ultimately ruin his relationship between himself and his own son.
Therefore, he had been rather satisfied by the idea of completely forgetting the young woman, to ignore the fact that she had ever once step foot into his life, and to completely move on. If he were to never observe her again, then he wouldn't have to worry about making a mistake he would certainly regret within the future.
Yet, like some sort of persistent ghost, the young woman had returned. Displayed before his vision, she was lounging within his backyard, basking beneath the warmth provided by the sun, without a singular sign of Michael. She was all alone, lacking the proper protection provided by another individual, someone to defend her against the starving monster located only a few yards away, silently observing her. With such a skimpy bathing suit none the less, yet another outfit that would surely haunt his dreams that following night, a small top and matching bottoms that would cause him to awake with a pit of guilt situated within his stomach, along with a new pair of ruined boxers.
This was bad.
"(Y/N)?" Coyle had inquired as he pushed through the screen door, venturing onto the back porch, his uniform boots thumping against he hard wood with every step he executed.
The audio of the screen door squealing open, along with the sound of heavy footsteps, had seemingly startled the young woman. She had immediately jolted within her chair, swift to bound up to her feet, as if she was standing at attention. Upon viewing Leland's presence, the young woman quickly disregarded her novel, allowing the book to topple onto the grass beside her. As she rose to her feet, the young woman instantly reached for the available towel, attempting to properly conceal her exposed figure. She obviously had not been expecting any guests either.
"M-Mr. Coyle!" She had swiftly responded, her high pitched tone laced with a mixture of shock, surprise, and slight confusion "I-Im so sorry. Michael said you'd be out of town this week."
This had been true; Leland and his son had scheduled a tip, an adventure in which the pair of them would travel to Florida, in order to visit Michael's grandmother. She was Michael's mother's mom, his grandmother upon the maternal side. And despite the fact that she had obviously disliked Leland, she was an old woman, slowly reaching her final days, and visiting was the respectful thing to do.
She had always loathed Coyle, believing that he was not best suited for her daughter. And maybe that had been correct. No matter if Michael was present or not, the older woman would openly express her hatred towards Leland. When Michael's mother had mysteriously passed, his mother in law was not afraid to voice her opinions, stating that her daughter would still be alive if she had never met Coyle. And that was certainly true as well.
However, things hadn't gone exactly as planned. Even though Leland had requested that specific week off of work, explaining that he was required to visit his mother in law, he had ultimately been scheduled. Yet, he wasn't very upset regarding such a reality. In fact, he was rather relieved. He did not actually desire to visit Michael's grandmother, it was honestly just for his son.
Although, he had still convinced Michael to go, to have fun in Florida and actually spend sometime with his grandmother, before she ultimately passed. And Michael had agreed. Therefore, as his son spent a week within the warmth of the Southern state, basking upon random beaches, and probably partying and getting drunk every single night, Coyle had remained home. But, he wasn't very distressed. In all honesty, he was rather delighted. It was just another year he wouldn't be required to visit that sour old bitch, constantly perceiving the manner in which she would openly both reprimand and scold him, all whilst Leland was simply expected to smile and nod, to remain polite and respect his elders.
"He offered for me to watch the house while the two of you were gone. I didn't know you'd be here. Im s-sorry, I-I can go." The young woman stuttered, evidently embarrassed and rather awkward.
Leland simply observed her for a moment, silent and motionless as he considered his options.
Either: He could demand that she leave, command her to vanish, and basically kick her out of his home. He could scold the young woman, explaining that it was extremely disrespectful to just invite yourself into someone else's house, without properly confirming such an arrangement.
Or: He could let her stay.
Sure, it might be considered odd to allow her to stay, permitting his sons girlfriend to remain present, even though Michael wasn't even here. After all, he hadn't actually left. The trip had seemingly been canceled for Leland, and he would be home to tend to his own house.
However, a womanly presence within the home could be nice, someone to cook, clean, and do the laundry whilst he was at work. Following Michael's mother's mysterious death, Coyle had struggled with the overwhelming amount of house work he was now responsible for. He was not prepared for the extreme amount of tidying, organizing, and tending he was suddenly expected to do. Along with the fact that he was now responsible for raising a child, all by himself. Those had all been things his late wife had managed, nothing he ever had to worry about.
The help could be nice, someone else to make him a proper dinner, an individual present to destroy all of the accumulated dust, a person who could prepare his clothing and pack him a lunch before work. She could just remain present in order to assist him. At least, thats what Coyle had convinced himself of.
"No- no." Leland had swiftly responded, his words both frantic and desperate, as if he was actively begging for his own life. His rather distraught behaviors, tossing his hands forwards, like he was attempting physically halt the young woman, had caused her to instantly freeze, similar to a stunned deer situated before the illumination of advancing head lights. "No, you can stay. It would nice to have some help around here, especially when Im at work most days."
The young woman was visibly hesitant, completely unprepared for such an offer. In all honesty, she had expected Leland to simply kick her out, to direct her back towards her own home, due to the fact that he had not actually participated within the journey. There was no actual reason for her to maintain the home anymore, now that Coyle was available to tend to the house, just as he had been doing for the past nineteen years.
Yet, he had not. Leland failed to demand her exit or force her to vanish. Instead, he had requested that she stay.
The young woman was reasonably shocked, gazing towards the officer as if he had just spoken a completely different and foreign language. It was now her turn to quietly contemplate the available options.
As the silence persisted, Leland was unable to dismiss the rather nervous flush that had started to adorn his features. Maybe that had been wrong. Surely, it was an inappropriate request, to offer for his son's girlfriend, a woman much younger than himself, to accompany him for the week, all alone. Obviously, he shouldn't have said anything. Coyle should have just shut the fuck up and allowed her to leave. That would have been the normal and mature reaction.
But, what was done was done. Leland had exclaimed that fateful statement, and there was no taking it back. And how was she expected to reject such an offer? He was her boyfriends father, her superior, a man of authority, and he had just requested that she stay, to help him around the house whilst he was at work. It must have been hard for him to maintain the home, all whilst raising a child, all by himself. He surely deserved some sort of break. It would be rude to decline such a proposal, right?
"O-Okay." She had finally muttered, her vision awkwardly dancing towards the ground below her, nervously disconnecting their shared eye contact.
After all, she was already there. The young woman did not yet possess a car of her own, Michael had been kind enough to drop her off earlier. There was no possible way she could return home now, without utilizing a ride from Leland, which would surely be an awkward trip, or paying an astronomical amount of money for a taxi. At that point, she had seemingly excepted her fate. This was a good opportunity to become closer with her boyfriend's father anyway.
As she stood before Coyle, visibly nervous and extremely timid, the officer was unable to dismiss the reality that she was extremely adorable. With her shy demeanor, the visible rosy hue currently adorning her features, and the reality that she appeared extremely awkward whilst situated in front of him, such details greatly pleased Leland. The vision reminded the older man of a meek little bunny, quivering before a predator, attempting to utilize its cute appearance as some sort of persuasion tactic.
Her hair glimmered beneath the sun, her thin figure upon complete display, and her skin was utterly flawless, not yet affected by the tests of time. Compared to the woman Leland had became intimate with in the past, the young woman was similar to some sort of Goddess. Within his mind, she was absolutely perfect. Young, innocent, and beautiful. All of the things he was much too old to successfully gain at his age.
The towel currently wrapped around her figure wasn't exactly assisting her. It was much too small to properly conceal her form, revealing the expense of her tanned legs, synching the plush of her torso, and subtly slipping across her chest. The manner in which the towel had started to slide revealed the sensual curve of her breasts, exhibiting the tender flesh and her perky tits, not yet affected by the weight of gravity. Simply her cleavage was upon display, the area in which her breasts were pushed together, but it was enough for Coyle to swiftly detach his vision.
An image suddenly appeared within his mind, a picture of himself dragging his wet tongue through the valley of her breasts. The officer subtly shook his head, attempting to dismiss such a vulgar image, aware of the fact that his uniform trousers would ultimately fail to conceal the evidence of his attraction if he were to dwell upon such a thought.
"Okay." Leland had stated, his voice both firm and gruff as he released a rather dry cough, awkwardly clearing his throat "Ill get started on dinner."
However, as he turned towards the doorway, prepared to disappear into the confines of his home once more, desperately required to escape the current situation before he did or said something he was unable to take back, he young woman had swiftly halted him.
"Wait." She had interrupted, causing Leland to shift upon his heels, freezing within his current location as if some sort of spell had been cast upon him "Ill make dinner."
The offer was rather abrupt, causing the officer to hesitate, completely unsure how to appropriately respond. His own son had never once offered to make dinner, the child he had raised since he was a baby. Yet, here his polite girlfriend was, basically demanding to prepare a meal, rather than requesting.
"No, really, it's okay." Leland had objected. As much as he yearned for nothing more than to simply sit back, relax, and enjoy the view whilst the young woman cooked dinner, the older man was aware of the reality that such an expectation was rather foolish.
But the young woman failed to accept such an answer, becoming visibly confident as her stance steadied. The extremely determined expression currently plastered across her face was a rather adorable contradiction. Everything about her was soft, from her tender skin to her gentle vision. Yet, she was actively supporting a rather stern countenance, as if she was physically prepared to battle the officer, simply just to prepare a meal. Such a firm expression etched across her features was similar to viewing a cute little bunny attempting to behave both strong and tough whilst challenging a feisty doberman.
"No, please. Let me." She further insisted "I feel bad intruding like this, it's the least I can do."
Coyle could no longer deny such an argument. Of course, she certainly wasn't intruding. In fact, her presence was more of a reward than any vacation or a week off of work ever could be. However, the idea of a women cooking a proper meal, just for him, was rather relieving. Leland was somewhat excited by the fact that he would not be forced to consume some sort of television dinner whilst sitting alone within the living room, as he had grown so accustomed to.
So, he had agreed.
Coyle ventured back inside, retrieving a beer from the refrigerator before situating himself upon the couch. He attempted to distract himself with the television, ignoring the reality that he was currently alone with a very young woman within his home, a lady who was currently wearing only a skimpy bikini and practically begging to prepare dinner for him.
And for a bit, such efforts appeared to succeed. Leland became rather consumed within the film being displayed, a Western movie about cowboys and criminals. For a moment, he completely forgot the fact that he wasn't alone, waiting upon the sofa as his dinner heated up, as he did most nights he returned from work.
Yet, his relaxation was soon interrupted when the young woman had eventually ventured inside, the audio of the screen door squealing shut signaling her arrival. Suddenly, Leland was entirely tense once more, as if he was required to remain completely vigilant whilst situated within the young woman's presence. He wasn't moving, no longer blinking, and he had even failed to properly breath as soon as he perceived her arrival.
The young woman did not remain present for very long as she quickly ventured upstairs, most likely assuming a much more modest outfit, before returning to the kitchen and beginning dinner preparations. She was no longer supporting a small pair of bikini bottoms with a matching, tiny top. Instead, the young woman had changed into a basic sweater and a simple skirt. And Leland was unable to deny the fact that he was rather disappointed by such an outfit alteration. He rather enjoyed the idea of the young woman crafting a meal for him, with only the support provided by a little bathing suit.
As she prepared dinner, to the young woman, it appeared as if the officer was completely consumed by whatever film was currently being broadcast (some sort of western from the looks of it, with horses, cowboys, and guns). However, she was unaware of the reality that as soon as her back was turned, Coyle would peer over his shoulder. The officer would silently watch as she prepared dinner, perceiving the manner in which her skirt would twirl with each spin and how tight her top actually was. Between each gun shot and every "yeehaw!" Successfully shouted, Leland would attempt to gain even the slightest glimpse of her panties from beneath her skirt.
This was wrong, the entire situation was completely messed up. Having the young woman prepare him dinner, the pair of them all alone within the house, as if it was just a normal, every day occurrence. This was his sons girlfriend, and Coyle loved Michael more than anything upon this entire Earth. Yet, here Leland was, actively gazing towards his own son's girlfriend within the exact same manner he had once gazed upon Micheals mother: Completely enamored. Within the officer's mind, it was as if the entire world had suddenly become both dark and muffled, except for the vision of the young woman situated within the kitchen.
In all honesty, following the dinner the three had shared those many months ago, Leland had been rather relieved once his son had exited alongside the young woman. Something about his own son's girlfriend, the way she had behaved so polite and respectful, the fact that she was both shy and obedient, and the reality that she had obviously been raised as a flawless young woman, had successfully captured Coyle's attention. He imaged her belonging to him, rather than his son. Leland envisioned himself returning home to a nice, warm meal after every shift, prepared by the young woman, just for himself. He pictured her laughing at each of his own jokes. Coyle had even yearned for the young woman to gaze towards himself, just as she had peered so lovingly towards his own son.
He worried that the sensation within his gut, the voice within his mind basically screaming that he just "had to have her," and the fact that he had adored the young woman just as he had once admired Michael's mother, would cause Leland to do something completely irrational. Once his son and his little girlfriend had vanished that evening, the officer was prepared to forget about her entire existence, never expected to interact with her ever again. He couldn't make an awful mistake if he never saw her again, right?
Yet, she had returned. But this time, Michael was no longer present to act as some sort of barrier. Without the proper availability of his own son, to remind Coyle that this wasn't just another girl for him to score, Leland worried he would become completely irresponsible. And soon enough, he would be expected to sleep within the same house as her, all alone, whilst she was located only a few doors down, with nothing at all in his way.
Dinner had been rather enjoyable. The young woman served Coyle his food, insisting that the officer just "sit back and relax after a long day of work" and just allow her to "take care of him." It was rather nice to be spoiled after so long of being forced to manage himself. Having a woman around was rather relieving.
She had provided him with a rather impressive meal for a young woman her age, accompanied with meat, vegetables, and rice. She had even rewarded him with a new beer, without being asked. It was a dinner that Coyle had practically swallowed within one bite. It had been so long since he had last enjoyed any sort of "real" dinner, something that wasn't just simply heated up or food that was purchased within a box. No, this was real, a meal prepared with both love and precision.
Once they had concluded their dinner, eating rather quietly, with the occasional, polite inquiry directed towards one another, Leland even allowed himself to enjoy the view the young woman provided. He observed the manner in which she swayed her hips and hummed some sort of tune whilst she washed the dishes. He savored the manner in which the young woman asked if he would like another drink once he had finished his previous one. He practically cherished the fact that he was allowed to sit back and do basically nothing, all whilst the beautiful young woman took care of him. Following a long day of his police work, it was some what of a reward to return home to a fresh meal, simple relaxation, and a rather enjoyable view.
Thank God for the dining table, or else his erection would be upon complete display. Something about the young women taking care of him, without any form of objection, was rather satisfying.
Once the sun had successfully disappeared from the atmosphere and darkness soon shrouded the Earth, the evening had been a struggle. The two were expected to prepare for bed, sleep only a few rooms away, all alone, as if everything about the entire, odd situation was completely normal, and absolutely nothing at all was out of place.
Leland had been good for a bit, laying within bed and forcefully restricting himself from even contemplating the idea of exiting the confines of the sheets. He was completely restless as he basically forced himself to focus upon the most unexciting ideas he could possibly conjure. Even after a long day of work, Coyle wasn't the least bit tired, entirely awake as he consistently rolled around within his bed. As he forced himself to ponder upon the lives of his boring coworkers or recalling the items he required from the grocery store, he was repeatedly releasing frustrated groans. He was doing absolutely everything to forgot the idea of the young woman sleeping completely vulnerable only a few paces down the hall, to ignore the rather uncomfortable erection currently situated within the confines of his briefs.
But of course, his good behavior didn't last very long. Eventually, he was unable to ignore his rather deranged thoughts, imagining how the young woman might look asleep, what she was currently wearing, if anything at all. His skin was practically tingling with the overwhelming sensation of curiosity, his cock twitching at the mere idea of what she might be doing. And soon enough, before he was even aware of what he was doing, as if he was entirely controlled by his own instincts, Leland had crept from his bed and quietly snuck down the hall.
It was wrong, completely messed up, to be snooping on his own son's girlfriend. Within the back of his mind, Coyle was aware of the reality that he should return to his room, lock the door, and basically chain himself to the bed, to refrain from making an absolutely irreversible mistake. However, when Leland discovered the fact that the light within the bedroom was still on, illumination flooding beneath the doorway and dancing across the floor, he just couldn't seem to control himself.
The officer slipped further down the hall, gentle with each step until he arrived before the bedroom. Coyle carefully pressed his features against the wooden doorway, as if he was attempting to inhale her literal scent. He sniffed the barrier of the entrance, desperate for even the slightest whiff of her perfume. Coyle compressed his nose against the crack of the door, repeatedly inhaling, like a hound dog tracking the scent of its prey.
When the bedroom light finally flickered off, causing complete darkness to engulf his surroundings, and as he perceived the audio of the young woman climbing into bed, the sheets ruffling and the frame squeaking beneath her weight, it was as if Leland suddenly lost any form of self control.
Coyle hesitated for a moment or two, honestly considering his next actions. Although he was somewhat deranged for even contemplating such an idea, Leland was aware of the correct thing to do within such a situation. He should have simply returned to his room and buried his face into the pillows, until he eventually fell asleep or lost consciousness.
However, he was a weak man, completely victim to each and every one of his desires. So, once he was absolutely positive that the young woman had successfully fallen asleep, aware of her soft breathing and the sudden lack of movement from within the room, Leland gentle cracked the door open.
Coyle slowly peered into the room, glancing around the edge of the door and observing his surroundings. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness until he could successfully view her, now certain that she was asleep.
Leland perceived the young woman laying within his son's bed, curled into Michael's sheets, and clutching his son's pillow. The officer hated to admit it, but a hint of jealousy began to churn within the depths of his stomach. She should be in his bed, curling into his sheets, and clutching his arm, not Michael's.
Yet, he somehow managed to hate himself even more when he honestly allowed himself to venture bast the barrier of the bedroom. It was as if his legs suddenly had a mind of their own, moving upon their own accord, until he had positioned himself before the foot of the bed. Leland observed the young woman for a moment, completely enamored by her sleeping form. He observed the repetitive rise and fall of her chest, memorized the manner in which her hair framed her unconscious features, and adored the rather serene expression plastered across her face. The young woman depicted that of an innocent young bunny, completely unaware of the wolfish predator currently stalking her sleeping form.
However, his morals had failed to appear as Coyle leaned forward, his movements both slow and deliberate whilst he gently brushed the blanket away, successfully exposing her resting form.
The young woman was not nude. But, with the way Lelands body had reacted, she honestly should have been.
She was supporting a large, oversized shirt, one that certainly belonged to his son. The top engulfed her form, causing her to appear rather small and dainty beneath the overflowing fabric. Yet, there was no sign of any pajama pants or sleep shorts adorning her legs. Instead, her thighs simply ventured into the depths of the shirt, her soft flesh disappearing into the darkness of the oversized top.
At that moment, Leland yearned for nothing more than to rip his sons shirt right off the young woman's body before replacing it with one of his own.
Something was certainly wrong with the officer, due to the fact that as a result of such a soft, tender, and somewhat innocent sight, with the young girl sleeping rather calmly, her expression relaxed, and her figure extremely vulnerable, Coyle's erection only further stiffened. In the search of some sort of relief, Leland brought his free hand down to his crotch, gently palming himself through the thin fabric of his boxers. With the manner in which his body had reacted, one would think the young woman was completely nude before him.
He was too far gone, and this reality was only further proven when Leland leaned forward once more, allowing his large palm to collide against her thigh. Her flesh was both soft and tender beneath his calloused hand, a large contrast that only further enticed him. She was the soft caress to his rough edge. It had been a very long while since Coyle had enjoyed the body of a woman her age, someone who was young, flawless, and beautiful, not yet altered by the affects of age. She was tender beneath his rough touch, immediately causing a twinge of primal protectiveness to web through his system. No one deserved to interact with something so precious, certainly not Leland Coyle. But he was a greedy man, and he was determined to obtain the young woman, to brand her as his own. To mark his territory.
The officer allowed his thumb to caress her skin, as if he was petting a soft, fuzzy bunny, basically becoming hypnotized by the warmth of her flesh. He must have been captured within some sort of trance as his hand started to venture further up the length of her thigh, advancing towards the area in which her legs disappeared beneath the fabric of the oversized shirt. Soon enough, the mystery of her pants would soon be revealed if Coyle continued any further.
Just as he had been about to breach the edge of the unimaginable, an act he would certainly be unable to retract, with his hard cock screaming at him to continue, a soft tone had caused him to suddenly freeze. Within that moment, Leland felt similar to some sort of treasure hunter, mere seconds away from revealing the wealth of his deepest desires: A young woman he could properly enjoy. A beautiful and innocent creature that a depraved man of his age should certainly not be rewarded with.
"M-Mr. Coyle?" The audio of the young woman's voice rang out from below him, her tone rather hesitant and soft, laced with the gentle haziness of lingering slumber.
Summary: You are dating Leland's son. Your boyfriend asks you to tend to his childhood home for a few days while him and his father go on a trip for about a week. Completely prepared to simply manage the house for seven days (possessing an empty home to do whatever you please), you soon figure out that things hadn't gone exactly as planned.
Warnings: Obsession, creepy behavior, inappropriate actions, age gap, alcohol, drinking, swearing, lying, jealousy, misogyny, smoking, the police, physical contact (not directly sexual but not exactly appropriate either??), inappropriate relationship, and mentions of: Weapons, death, violence, nudity, murder, and mental illness.
Word Count: 10,032
(Part One)
"M-Mr. Coyle?" The audio of the young woman's voice rang out from below him, her tone rather hesitant and soft, laced with the gentle haziness of lingering slumber.
As if her words were comparable to that of a radiating shot gun blast, Leland instantly froze. It was like the mere sound of the young woman's consciousness had acted as the unbinding that destroyed the spell he had been captured within, successfully tearing from his previous trance-like state. One moment, he had been immobilized by some kind of curse, unable to either control or dictate any of his actions. He had been completely overpowered by his own desires, his system managed entirely by his own desperation. But suddenly, it was as if both his ethics and morals had instantly returned to him. Similar to the manner in which a sword might penetrate its victim, his integrity had immediately infiltrated his mind.
Rather than instantly retracting his palm and creating the appropriate amount of distance between himself and his own son's girlfriend. Instead, Coyle hesitated for a moment, both physically and mentally. For a few seconds, his fingers continued to linger across the expanse of her plush thigh, as if he was savoring the fleeting sensation of her soft skin situated beneath his textured palms.
Once he had finally managed to properly detach himself, retracting his arm with a swift yank (as if he was required to forcefully tear himself away from the young woman's form), Leland perceived the reality that he was physically shivering. His movements faltering, fingers quivering, and legs trembling from below him, like his entire form had been transformed into jello. And in all honesty, he wasn't entirely certain if such a reaction was the result of fear and terror, or if his shaking was due to some sort of intense emotion, like the sensation of her young and flawless flesh situated beneath his palms had somehow managed to alter his entire life. As if her smooth and perfect skin was comparable to that of Pandora's box, a seemingly harmless object that would ultimately modify the remainder of his existence.
Within that moment, it felt as if there was a gun currently pressed against his temple, a looming threat that caused dread to infiltrate his entire system. This was a mistake, he had been both careless and naive. Leland shouldn't have done that. Instead, he should have simply tied himself down to his own mattress until he eventually managed to drift off to sleep. Sure, he most likely would have tossed and turned like a caged beast, and such a notion may sound completely insane, but at least then he wouldn't be able to do something so foolish. It felt as if a bomb could detonate at any moment and alter his entire life, from his relationship between himself and his own son, to both his entire career and daily existence. Yet, this was an explosive he had placed himself, a mine he had been ignorant enough to walk across, even though he was well aware of its location.
This was the one mistake he couldn't retract, the vital error he was unable to erase, a mess he would never be able to conceal. If such news were to ever be revealed, Michael would surely estrange himself, his boss might fire him, and his entire reputation would be completely ruined. No one trusts an officer who sneaks into the bedroom of a young woman during the late hours of the evening, in order to harass her. Especially not a cop who is attracted to his own, nineteen year old son's girlfriend.
"Mr. Coyle?" The young woman repeated once more, her voice suddenly much more composed and steady, as if all of her previous sleep fueled confusion had finally dissipated. The vision of her boyfriends Sargent father standing before the edge of the bed with his palm splayed across her thigh was surely enough to properly sober her groggy mind. "What are you doing?"
Previously, he had presumed that the young woman was unable to appear so firm and assured. Coyle assumed she was only capable of the extremely soft and gentle tone she had always supported, her voice both tender and kind, as if she was unable to execute any sort of a serious demeanor. Before, he imagined that the young woman would never fail to behave both submissive and obedient, no matter the circumstance. Within his wildest fantasies, Leland imagined her allowing him to do what ever he had pleased during such an intense moment. He believed she would remain passive, respect his authority, and revert to her typically timid and womanly demeanor.
Yet, she hadn't.
Most people were extremely passive when interacting with Leland, allowing him to practically walk all over them, simply due to his social status and superior career. Others were typically intimidated by Officer Coyle, even the young woman had remained rather distant during their previous interactions, no matter how rude he may have behaved.
However, it was as if the young woman had suddenly transformed, originating both shy and soft, before suddenly evolving into stern and serious. And this was a side of her personality that Coyle was unsure if he despised or adored. If she had been anyway else, he would have certainly been enraged, no matter how incorrect he had previously behaved. No one regards Leland Coyle within such a disrespectful manner.
Instead, her inquiry was blunt, direct, and firm, within the same manner Leland might address a lying criminal whilst asking something along the lines of "What do ya think yer doin' with that gun?" Or "Did ya pay for that television you just walked away with?" The young woman was stern, her voice assured as she boldly confronted him. She did not seem scared, afraid, or even slightly apprehensive. In fact, such a stern tone was the farthing thing Coyle had previously expected. And such courage had left Leland rather baffled.
As if her prior statement was comparable to that of a physical slap across the face, Leland stumbled backwards, like the intensity of such a firm tone had forcefully affected him. Coyle had never allowed anyone to regard him within such a harsh manner, not even his own mother. Especially not a woman a few decades younger than himself. He skittered back a step, as if he was attempting to actively distance himself from the invisible magnetic pull the young woman appeared to possess over him. All whilst stuttering like a fool.
"(Y/N), I- You-" He stammered over his words, like his tongue had suddenly been tied within a knot. Yet, his disorientation was simply met by a rather confused gaze from the young woman situated before him, her brows furrowed and a hint of perplexity lacing her vision. Now, she was hauled up within his son's bed, her knees drawn against her chest and her weight resting upon her palms as she leaned backwards, like she was physically distancing herself as well. Ultimately, a meek "Im sorry." Was all he could manage.
Desperate to escape and not exactly sure how to address the entire situation, Leland quickly skittered out of the room, his feet sliding against the hard wood floor. He slammed his son's bedroom door such behind him as he exited the room, disappearing into the dark hallway. He had forcefully closed the entrance within the same manner a villain might trap their unnatural creation within the depths of a dreary basement. Slamming the door like he could some how destroy the evidence of such a mistake by simply locking the door before throwing away the key. And thats exactly what this was: A shameful secret, an embarrassing moment of weakness he desired to remain concealed.
For the remainder of the night, Leland was awake, only rewarded with the occasional twenty to thirty minute interval of rest. He continuously stirred amongst the sheets, his spiraling thoughts plaguing his mind, reverting him into nothing more than an anxiety riddled husk of his previously assured self. He was worried how the young woman may react within the morning, once the lingering affects of her slumber had finally dissipated and her mind was clear. He feared she might call Michael and inform him of what had occurred that evening, claiming that his perverted father had touched her inappropriately whilst she slept.
And in all honesty, Coyle wouldn't have been surprised. Reasonably, that would be the correct thing to do. Either that, or she would disappear without a trace the following morning, managing to vanish before the sun had even started to grace the horizon. If he had a daughter, Leland would want her to do the same exact thing. If she had been his own child, Coyle would have beat the ever loving shit out of any man who managed to even accidentally make his daughter uncomfortable.
But for his own sake, and due to his insane sense of narcissism, Leland had hoped for the best. He practically prayed that the entire situation would simply be forgotten and his life could resume exactly the same as before. That he could continue to adore the young woman's beauty whenever she visited along side his son, allowing himself to reminisce upon her smooth skin and the exposed length of her thighs during his exceptionally lonely nights, provided with only the company of his own hands.
However, as the warm illumination of the morning sun began to dance through the curtains and tomorrow transformed into today, all of Coyle's previous concerns were soon dismissed.
Leland had awoken long before his alarm, his own anxiety causing him to become restless. Although his mind was tired, his body was entirely exhausted, and his system was completely drained, he wearily rose from his bed. With trembling limbs, he slipped from the mattress and ventured into the hallway.
He didn't even allow himself to glance within the general direction of his son's bedroom, forcing his attention to remain glued upon the stairwell before him. Instead, he completely ignored that general area of his home, traveling down stairs as if this was just any other morning, exhausted after a staying up much too late the previous evening.
Yet, as he arrived within the kitchen, Coyle was soon greeted by a rather unexpected sight. A surprising vision, but a welcomed view none the less. Situated upon the counter was a prepared lunch, consisting of a sandwich, a few grapes, and a soda prepared within a paper bag. A warm cup of coffee paired with a bagel were provided as well, available as some sort of quick and simple breakfast option. Additionally, his uniform had been ironed, his jacket was clean, and all of the previous dirt and grime that had accumulated upon his work boots had magically disappeared.
This was the absolute last result Leland had expected. In all honesty, he had assumed the young woman, along with the evidence of her entire existence, would have completely disappeared by the time he had awoken for work. However, as he glanced towards the stairs, peering down the second story hallway, he soon discovered that a stream of warm light was flooding from beneath his son's bedroom door, soft illumination that danced across the floor and signaled the young woman's presence.
For a moment, Coyle wondered if she had slept that night. Or, had the young woman remained restless as well, completely perturbed by the events of the previous evening? However, he decided not to confirm either assumption. Instead, he simply prepared himself for the day (ate the provided breakfast, changed into his uniform, and collected his belongings) before he traveled outside.
Of course, not without creating a short note, expressing his appreciation with the usage of dark ink upon a random sheet of paper, in which he situated upon the kitchen counter. The brief letter detailed something along the lines of:
(Y/N),
Thank you for the coffee and lunch. I'll be back around five.
- Leland
The entire expanse of his shift had been absolute torture for Coyle. Every single minute that passed felt as if it had lasted for an hour. Although his stint of labour had only lasted around nine hours, Leland felt as if he had been at work for three days straight. He was extremely paranoid, flinching at every subtle sound and each occasion in which one of his coworkers would call his name. Entirely overwhelmed by a mixture of both terror and anxiety, Leland had even managed to make himself ill. His brain constantly assuming the worst, envisioning himself being scolded by his own son, as a result of his irresponsible behaviors, had caused his stomach to churn with looming dread.
When he had originally arrived at his place of employment, Coyle had been scheduled within the station. Rather than ordered to simply cruise around town (where he could pass the time by basically doing whatever he pleased, properly distracting himself). Instead, Leland had been instructed to simply complete paper work and fill out all of the form he had previously ignored. A grueling and tedious task that only made his day stretch on for even longer.
Throughout the first half of his shift, Coyle participated within a multitude of smoke breaks. Almost every five minutes, he'd excuse himself in order to indulge within a cigarette, chasing any form of comfort and relaxation he could possibly obtain. Leland was smoking as if it was the air he needed to breath.
However, after only a couple hours of preparing various documents and providing his signature, agreeing to only God knows what (much too distracted to properly peruse through each provided form), Coyle had finally snapped. Within the middle of the seemingly hundredth document, he had suddenly disregarded his pen. He rose from his seat, ventured outside the perimeter of his office, and exited the building. Of course, his boss had been rather frustrated, inquiring upon Leland's sudden disobedience. Yet, when Coyle simply explained that he "needed a break," the sheriff failed to interject. He would certainly receive some sort of punishment the following day, but Leland was the least bit concerned regarding tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow barely even existed within his mind at that very moment.
From the second he journeyed outside, the warm summer breeze colliding against his sweat glazed skin, Coyle climbed into his cop car. For the remainder of his shift, Leland simply cruised around town. However, he did not occupy his time by relaxing within a diner or executing random errands, as he typically did during such patrols. No. Instead, he parked along the side of a random street and became completely detached from the world around him. Someone could have raced by his cruiser, traveling fifty miles over the speed limit, and Leland wouldn't have attempted to stop them. In fact, he probably wouldn't even have noticed.
Coyle was constantly on edge, his heart hammering against his rib cage as if his very life was being threatened. And within his mind, it honestly was. His thoughts were consistently wandering and his brain was foggy. Each rational idea that appeared within his mind had drifted away only moments prior, as if sanity was upon the tip of his fingers, before ultimately floating out of reach.
Leland couldn't seem to dismiss the tsunami of negative notions that would repetitively flash within his mind, dreadful thoughts that only further inflated his accumulated stress. Coyle wasn't sure if such symptoms were the result of his previous mistake of just a general lack of slumber. His thoughts were distant, his brain overwhelmed by the sensation of anxiety, he was persistently sweating, as if he had just ran a marathon, and his stomach had suddenly become sour, due to the constant sensation of dread looming over his shoulders. Whatever the reason may have been, Leland was entirely exhausted and completely terrified. He desired nothing more than to roll over and die of shame within that exact moment.
He expected to receive some sort of message over the police radio at any moment, possibly his boss informing him that Michael was on the phone and sounded furious, demanding to speak with him. He envisioned the young woman storming down to the police station while he was away, filing some sort of report against both him and his disgusting actions.
Yet, eventually, his shift had concluded. After nine agonizingly long hours, he was finally permitted to return home.
As Leland directed his vehicle into the drive way, his fear seemed to further evolve, which he had previously regarded as seemingly impossible. The officer didn't think he could become anymore scared.
Coyle was prepared for the young woman to scold him, to scream and holler within his face, to maybe even throw random objects towards him, all whilst regarding him as some sort of nasty pervert. Which wasn't exactly false, but he wasn't prepared to face such a reality just yet.
His stomach physically flipped within his gut as he encountered the vision of the front door propped open once more, just as it had been the afternoon before. The young woman had failed disappeared before he returned home, practically vanishing into thin air as he had previously expected. Instead, she had refrained from such an action. The evidence of her presence was provided by the scene displayed before him: The front door wide open and the windows drawn up, allowing some sort of natural breeze to properly permeate his home.
Previously, the idea of entering his house, just to be introduced to the sensation of the mid summer warmth, the smell of fresh cut grass, and the scent of blooming flowers, would have intrigued him. But not anymore. Now, Coyle was rather frightened by such a notion, terrified by the thought of stepping even one foot into his own home. Within his mind, entering the house was comparable to tossing himself into a pit of venomous snakes, entirely upon his own accord.
However, he couldn't remain situated within his cruiser for the remainder of the evening, even though he desired nothing more than to situate himself as far away from the young woman as possible. So, as he ventured from the depths of his car, his legs were comparable to that of jelly beneath him. His feet were hesitant against the firm pavement, as if this was his first time properly walking. And as he ventured into the confines of his home, it was as if he had suddenly forgotten how to breath. The air instantly became caught within his throat as fear began to successfully suffocate him.
This time, as he entered the house, Leland failed to discover the young woman relaxing within the backyard, supporting nothing but a skimpy bathing suit and a novel to properly occupy her mind, just as he had yesterday. Even though the backdoor had been left wide open once again, she was not lounging upon the lawn, basking within the sun. Instead, Coyle was greeted by a rather satisfying smell, the scent of some sort of food that caused his mouth to salivate. And just like always, as if he was operating entirely off of muscle memory, the officer kicked off his boots by the front entrance and hung his jacket upon the adjacent wall before venturing further into the depths of his home.
As he entered the open concept kitchen, Leland soon discovered the young woman situated in front of the stove, appearing to be concluding her ministries with whatever she had been cooking. Two plates had been situated upon either end of the dining table, displaying the fact that she had been preparing a meal. And with the cold beer located beside one of the platters, Coyle took that as an invitation to properly seat himself.
The officer couldn't help but feel as if he was stumbling directly into her trap, like he was actively situating himself in front of a loaded weapon. Why was she being so nice? There was no way she was actually preparing a meal just for him, after everything that had occurred the previous evening. This must have been a set up, right?
Leland had expected to be rewarded with some sort of reprimand, for the young woman to scold him as a result of his lewd behaviors once he was properly exhausted following a long day of work. He was prepared for the young woman to both yell and holler at him, maybe even secretly poisoning the food. He was expecting some form of an argument that had never arrived.
However, such anger had never occurred. Instead, the young woman had remained silent as she prepared each of the separate plates, going as far to provide him with his own food, without even being asked. And once she had concluded, the young woman situated herself upon the other end of the table, in front of the plate that lacked the cold beer. Directly across from Leland.
Dinner had went exactly as one would expect, extremely similar to the previous evening. The two were mostly quiet, an intense and awkward silence infiltrating the atmosphere. She had kept things rather civil, inquiring about Leland's day and asking him about his work, as if everything was completely normal. Like she was completely unaware of the officer's overwhelming anxiety within that exact moment.
Once the meal had finally concluded and the young woman stood to tend the mess (still completely avoiding the interaction Coyle had been mentally preparing himself), Leland had released a rather exacerbated sigh, aware of the reality that he would be the one required to confront the elephant within the room.
"Look, (Y/N), Im sorr-" He began, awkwardly glancing down towards the surface of the table, obviously attempting to avoid her scrutiny.
However, Leland was quickly interrupted.
"Its okay." The woman had quickly interjected, halting Coyle from properly concluding his previous sentence.
She had failed to even slightly alter her position in front of the sink, not even subtly glancing over her shoulder towards Leland. She was acting as if the entire situation was no big deal, not even important enough to detach her attention away from washing the dishes.
Yet, Leland wouldn't except such a claim. Obviously, what had occurred the prior night was not okay, as the young woman had declared. In fact, it was possibly the farthest thing from alright. Coyle had been rude, disrespectful, and rather inappropriate.
However, in all honesty, Coyle wasn't concerned about the young woman and her own comfort. Instead, he was worried about his life, the relationship between himself and his own son, and even his stable career. If the young girl had whispered even one detail about their previous interaction to anyone at all, Leland's entire existence would be ruined. So, for the sake of his own comfort and ego, Leland desired some form of confirmation. He required reassurance, to genuinely be informed that the young woman was not upset and she would refrain from involving Michael. He needed to believe that she wasn't angry, that he was no longer required to worry.
"No, it's not." He began once more, speaking quickly, in order to keep the young woman from possibly interrupting him again. And as he perceived the audio of her voice humming to life, Leland became rather desperate. "Please, just let me-" He released an exhausted sigh, attempting to compose himself. In all honesty, Leland was not accustomed to the act of properly apologizing "About last night, Im sorry. I don't know what came over me but it was fucked up. I shouldn't have done that to ya."
It was silent for a moment, unnervingly so, whilst the young woman mentally contemplated his statement. And after a few seconds of intense anticipation, she finally turned towards Coyle, disposing of the damp dish upon the drying rack in order to properly focus her attention. To display the fact that she was actually listening, not just simply ignoring him.
As she shifted her attention, Leland was swiftly greeted by the soft grin etched across the young woman's features, a smile that was both gentle and tender. Her vision was laced with compassion and a subtle rosy hue glazed her cheeks, as if she was genuinely the least bit upset.
As a result of such a gentle expression, a shiver spiraled down the officer's spine. Coyle wasn't accustomed to such kindness. In fact, he was much more familiar with receiving anger, frustration, and fury from others. A thought instantly burrowed itself within the back of his mind; So accustomed to others behaving both fake and passive aggressive towards him, Leland wondered if she was simply pretending, supporting a false persona of chivalry in order to gain his trust, before ultimately attacking when he least expected it.
"Like I said, Mr. Coyle: It's really okay. Nothing even happened." She simply stated, tilting her head in a blatant display of sincerity. Within the same manner a dog might act extremely adorable in order to gain its owners sympathy.
He felt his brows furrow in confusion, his head slightly rearing backwards in perplexity. What the fuck was she even talking about? Of course something had happened. Did she even remember what had occurred the previous evening?
"What? (Y/N), do you even remem-" Leland began, his voice becoming rather stern as he attempted to confront the young woman.
If she genuinely hadn't remembered, then Coyle would certainly be blowing his cover within that moment. Typically, he would attempt to erase the evidence of his mistakes, physically forcing people to forget each and every one of his errors. Yet, something about the young woman made him feel responsible, liable for owning up to his actions, and required to mend the situation. The young woman somehow managed to alter Leland's entire personality. Before, he had lacked any form of empathy, only focused upon himself, dismissing how his actions may have affected those around him. Yet, within regards to his own son's girlfriend, Coyle suddenly felt obligated to fix things, determined to avoid possibly upsetting the young woman. Even if it meant possibly disgracing himself.
However, when the young woman suddenly directed a rather pointed glare within Leland's direction, he instantly shut up.
"Oh." He mumbled.
Once he had obviously accepted her suggestion, with a kind smile and a soft hum, the young woman shifted back towards the sink, the water being revived as she continued her previous ministrations.
Yet, for some reason, Coyle still felt extremely paranoid. His previous anxiety had not been relieved. As if he was too afraid to even contemplate removing himself from the situation, Leland failed to rise from his seat and venture into the confines of the living room, as he normally would have done following each and every meal. Instead, he remained idle, the lingering sensation of dread continuing to consume him as he silently observed the young woman cleansing the dirty dishes.
However, his rather awkward and nervous behaviors did not go unnoticed by the young woman. She was aware of the reality that he was quietly observing her. She failed to perceive the audio of him rising from his seat and lumbering into the other room. Instead, it sounded as if he had completely froze. Even the audio of his inhales had failed to successfully enter her ears. Was he even breathing?
Although she had confirmed that she was not upset, it obviously wasn't enough to properly reassure Coyle.
"Okay." She finally turned to him with a sigh, drying her damp hands upon the available towel as she concluded washing the dishes "If it makes you feel any better, I wont tell Michael. I promise."
Leland had remained idle within his seat, just as she had expected. His figure was directed towards her own, with his knees spread as he sat upright within his chair. However, as he accepted her claim, Coyle visibly relaxed. She observed as his shoulders slouched, his back slowly rested against the seat, and a soft grin infiltrated his features. And for some reason, perceiving the invisible wave of comfort wash over him had caused the young woman to smile in return.
"I mean, nothing happened anyway. Theres nothing to tell. The two of us just went to bed and that was that." She grinned, not even a hint of doubt glazing her features.
In response to the young woman's statement, Coyle was unable to deny the soft buzz of affection that had suddenly engulfed his chest. A warmth of appreciation that caused his skin to tingle and his heart to flutter.
She had every right to inform Michael. In fact, she probably should have. His son should have been aware of the manner in which his own father had treated the young woman, his girlfriend, within such a disgusting way.
Yet, she had refrained from spreading such knowledge.
The young woman was obviously protecting something, presumably the fragile relationship between a father and his son. Or, she was defending something else entirely, a covert option that was much more sinister and rather agreeable within Lelands mind. But, for the sake of his son, along with his own sanity, Coyle forced himself to dismiss such a possibility. He would not allow himself to search any further into such a situation, no matter how much such an enjoyable notion might plague his thoughts during his restless nights, when the young woman was located only a few doors down the hall, completely alone and utterly vulnerable.
That answer was seemingly sufficient enough to finally allow Leland to rise from his seat, displaying his approval through a soft smirk and a gentle nod, before he ventured into the living room.
Similar to the night prior, Coyle had situated himself within the comfort of his beloved arm chair, nursing a beer within one palm and an endless cycle of cigarettes within the other, as he observed yet another Western film being broadcast upon a random station. The sensation of satisfaction and delight had failed to properly dissolve from Leland's system, causing him to view the television screen with a rather fond grin, chuckling lightly to himself whenever a rather corny joke was executed throughout the movie. And just like the evening before, he would occasionally glance over his shoulder, observing something much more satisfying compared to the cowboys and horses being displayed upon the screen: The young woman tending to the kitchen. Maintaining his kitchen.
No longer supporting her daily outfit of a formal skirt and a soft sweater, the young woman was now provided with the comfort of her evening gown. It was a rather cute sleep dress, a baby doll style night gown with a mid length skirt and an off the shoulder top. The clothing article possessed a rouge hue, with lavender stripes adorning the fabric, each line perfectly spaced apart.
It appeared as if the young woman possessed a little quirk that revealed itself whenever she cleaned: As she managed the accumulated mess, the young woman would bound through the kitchen, executing gentle twirls and humming beneath her breath. She murmured the tune of a song Leland wasn't quite aware of as she organized the cutlery within their respective drawers, returned the separate plates to the correct cabinets, and hung each pot and pan upon the provided rack. It was as if she had been transported into her own little world whenever she cleaned, entirely blissful and completely detached from the her surroundings. The young woman seemed euphoric.
Coyle observed her rather adorable movements, perceived her gentle humming, and viewed the rather relaxed expression etched across her features, as if she had not yet experienced the stress of the adult world, all whilst a smirk of admiration adorned his lips.
However, once the young woman had finally concluded cleaning the kitchen, thats when the evening had begun to alter. Compared to the previous night, when the pair had immediately returned to their respective rooms once the meal had concluded, this evening was different.
Following their shared meal, Coyle did what he always had: Ventured into the living room in order to resume yet another Western film. He consumed his beer and enjoyed a cigarette, searching for any form of relaxation following a rather strenuous day of work.
Yet, the young woman did not disappear into Michael's room, distancing herself from her boyfriend's father, in order to obtain some alone time, as she had done yesterday. Instead, the young woman ventured into the living room as well, flopping down onto the couch.
Of course, Coyle mourned the view he had been greeted with the previous afternoon, returning home to the young woman basking within his backyard, supporting the modesty provided by only a small bathing suit whilst she enjoyed the contents of a random novel. Leland wondered what his neighbors had assumed.
Mrs. Miller was the woman who possessed the home located directly beside Coyle's house. It was a craftsman style home that she worked tirelessly to maintain. Lacking the assistance her husband should have offered (Mr. Miller was a rather lazy man, typically remaining concealed within the confines of the house in order to drink all day), it was Mrs. Miller's responsibility to manage all of the yard work. Coyle often wondered why anyone would ever marry a man similar to Mr. Miller. Just as it was a woman's responsibility to maintain the home, it was a mans responsibility to tend to the yard work.
Now that she was retired, the old woman did nothing but garden and involve herself within other people's business. Upon multiple different occasions, Coyle had perceived her participating within a rather foolish chore, such as sweeping the driveway or aimlessly adjusting the decorative rocks, in order to snoop upon the argument between the younger couple located across the street.
Mrs. Miller was rather obsessed with spying upon her neighbors. Therefore, Leland wouldn't have been surprised if she had perceived the young woman's presence from the opposite side of the fence, the boundary that separated his lawn from her own. She was a rather smart woman, as much as Coyle hated to admit it, and she was intelligent enough to confirm that Michael's car was absent before jumping to her own, sly conclusion.
Mr. Cooper was situated upon the other side of Coyle's home, within a rather fancy tudor house that he was rich enough to purchase a maid to maintain. Following his wife's passing, Mr. Cooper had become somewhat of a pervert, sitting upon his front lawn every morning, just to watch the local wives participate within their morning jogs. Mr. Cooper was the epitome of a stereotypical old creep, an aging man who gained some sort of satisfaction from observing much younger woman participate within daily activities. Christ, that man probably got hard just from the simple display of the young woman located a few houses down getting into her car before leaving for work.
Maybe Mr. Cooper had perceived Michael's girlfriend from the second floor of his home, peering at her from his bedroom window with a rather devious grin, probably assuming that Leland had managed to obtain a hot and young lover. Maybe Mr. Cooper had allowed his gaze to linger for a bit too long, permitting his vision to wander and his mind to fantasize, just as Coyle would have done if he was situated within Mr. Cooper's position. However, for some reason, such a disturbing image had caused Leland to become furious, and slightly nauseous as well. An odd reaction that he didn't desire to further consider the reason behind.
However, as much as Coyle mourned the vision of the young woman situated within her bathing suit, in all honesty, he had concluded that the current situation was just as favorable as well. If not better.
The young woman had flopped down onto the sofa, an English arm roll style couch that was positioned directly to the left of Leland's beloved arm chair. She had situated herself within a rather relaxed position, laying upon her side, her head located within her palm as her right arm acted as some sort of support beam beneath her skull. Her legs were extended down the length of the sofa, exposing the vast expanse of her smooth flesh. The mere sight of her soft thighs caused the memory of the previous evening, with his hands splayed across her legs, to flicker within Leland's mind. An image that Coyle swiftly dismissed with a gentle shake of his head, as if to physically rid the thought from his brain.
The pair were silent for a moment, pretending as if everything was completely normal whilst the sound of gun shots and horses whinnying echoed from the television. Like it wasn't strange for Coyle to be enjoying a beer whilst his son's girlfriend sat beside him, the house completely empty, the young woman supporting nothing but a silky night gown.
And for some reason, Leland just couldn't seem to focus upon the film, no matter how hard he tried.
"Mr. Coyle?" The young woman suddenly exclaimed after about five minutes of shared silence between the two.
Leland glanced towards her through the corner of his vision, observing the young woman within the most covert manner possible. He secretly gazed towards Michael's girlfriend, failing to properly turn his head, in order to avoid possible detection.
However, the young woman wasn't as naive as Coyle had previously assumed, due to the fact that her own irises suddenly connected with his own, her head shifting as she blatantly returned his gaze. An unexpected movement that caused Leland to swiftly divert his attention back towards the television before him. His rather frantic and awkward reaction was probably much more suspicious than he had intended.
"Hmm?" He hummed, his vocalization muffled against the lip of the beer bottle as he attempted to appear completely normal and the least bit skeptical. All whilst his heart hammered relentlessly within the confines of his chest.
Leland perceived the reality that the young woman was actively fiddling with the hem of her dress, a nervous reaction that revealed her covert anxiety. And Coyle just couldn't seem to dismiss the sensation of satisfaction that suddenly infiltrated his system. Just as he was nervous around her, his simple presence had caused the young woman to become anxious as well. Something about the two of them alone, lacking the barrier provided by Michael, caused the pair to become rather awkward together. And Leland enjoyed the fact that he obviously intimidated her.
"Have you ever shot someone?" She inquired, her voice both low and timid, so quiet that Coyle almost couldn't hear her.
Such a question had caused his breath to hitch within Leland's throat. That had been the very last thing he had expected the young woman to ask about. For such a shy and timid young woman, Coyle had assumed she wouldn't even consider such a possibility, never the less actually inquire about it. Such a topic was rather inappropriate and unlady like for a woman of her age to even contemplate.
Yet, Leland couldn't deny the reality that he was rather intrigued by the young woman's confusing nature. One moment, she was both meek and quiet, executing all of her female responsibilities and acting just as a young lady is expected to. But the next, she asking about violence and death. She could be sly, joke with Coyle, and even agree to retain rather important information from her boyfriend, Leland's own son. Maybe he should have been more irritated, scolding her for her rather immature question and teach her the importance of proper femininity. But instead, Coyle was rather amused.
The officer was stunned for a moment, briefly choking upon his beverage as the liquid became captured within his throat. He expected the young woman to back down, to recant her previous inquiry or some how clarify her claim. Yet, she didn't. Instead, she simply continued to gaze towards him, her expression rather expectant, silently filled with anticipation, vision laced with slight confusion as a result of his rather extreme reaction.
"Yes." The officer finally confirmed once he had regained his composure and successfully cleared his throat.
He could perceive her silhouette through his peripheral vision, her frame rather small as she curled in upon herself, obviously extremely nervous, even rather flustered. He was unable to ignore the slight smirk of satisfaction that began to tug upon his lips, due to the fact that she was so intimidated by his mere existence. The young woman was acting as if there was a gun currently pointed against her temple, rather than the reality that the pair were simply observing a Western film within the comfort of the dimly lit living room.
"Sorry if this is far too forward but... What happened?" She further added.
Coyle paused for a moment, glancing wearily towards her through the corner of his vision. He was searching for any sign of regret, maybe a slight twist of her lips or a subtle squeeze of her eyes, to confirm that she didn't actually desire to perceive the truth. Yet, when he was simply met with her rather expectant gaze, no sign of doubt present, he apprehensively continued.
Obviously, there was no way he was actually going to reveal the truth: The fact that he had both shot and killed numerous people for a variety of varying reasons, from rational to unwarranted. The reality that he had murdered all of his previous lovers for seemingly no good reason. That he killed men every chance he obtained. No, of course he wouldn't reveal such a fact.
Instead, he resorted to a much more honorable excuse.
"He was an active threat." Leland finally decided to state, a reasonable explanation that most people wouldn't search for further confirmation within.
Others would have just accepted such a claim for exactly what it was: A simple answer. Most people wouldn't have pushed for further information, within the same manner then his peers would awkwardly nod whenever Coyle revealed that Michael's mother had mysteriously passed. Anyone else would have simply hummed their approval before dismissing the topic entirely, remaining polite as they avoided such an uncomfortable subject.
Yet, when Leland glanced towards the young woman once more, he soon discovered that the expression of anticipation had failed to disappear from her features. She wasn't like most people, that was becoming increasingly obvious. She was actively awaiting the further details of such a claim, failing to avoid any topic that even slightly upset her. She was curious, intrigued, and appeared completely devoted to whatever Leland was about to exclaim. Like he was prepared to reveal the secrets of the universe to her, and the young woman was entirely attentive.
Coyle released a rather exasperated sigh as he repositioned himself within the arm chair. He was obviously expected to continue. For some reason, he was unable to deny the young woman whenever she displayed such a silently pleading gaze within his direction. The same countenance an adorable little puppy might support whilst begging for food. Therefore, Leland was now required to create a rather believable claim, rather than simply admitting that he had murdered many people, simply for his own enjoyment.
"I was jus' startin' my job at the time, only a deputy. We had received a report about a man with a gun in the woods. I guess an elderly couple had seen him, walking through the woods with nothin' but a pistol. Not even his clothes, and for the sake of both their lives and his own, they had reached out for help. And I was the first one on the scene."
As he began to speak, Coyle quickly realized that the "story he had just conjured up" wasn't just a fairytale. No. Instead, it was true. Everything he was about to reveal had actually occurred.
Sure, Leland had both shot and killed many men throughout the years, whether he was within the army, working as an officer, or even for his own pleasure. But this was different, not just a story that he had simply created upon a whim in order to maintain his own reputation.
Of course, he could have relied upon a much more charming tale, a false claim that he had shot down a group of armed robbers attacking an orphanage, something that would have made him out to be a hero, rather than a deranged maniac. But for some unknown reason, Leland found himself resorting to the truth, a story that was emotional, deep, and honest. A memory that was rather vulnerable, a momentary falter within the assured and confident facade he typically supported.
"I found him first, walkin' aimlessly through the woods within the middle of the night. And sure as shit, he was naked as the day he was born." Coyle consumed an inhale from his cigarette before continuing "He seemed outta it, kinda distant. Detached, ya know? Like he could see somethin' no one else could; anyway, I tried to get his attention, callin' out to him and even flashin' him with my light. But he just seemed... Lost. Literally and figuratively."
The young woman's expression was sincere, her brows furrowing as she listened carefully to each of his words, completely absorbed by the mere sound of his voice. She wasn't just hearing the words, allowing them to enter through one ear and exit out the other. This wasn't a simple conversation shared as a result of politeness. No. Instead, she was actually listening. Something about her unfaltering attention, the fact that she appeared so focused, caused Coyle to become rather flustered. He wasn't accustomed to his stories being genuinely consumed, unfamiliar with the act of sharing his true emotions. And the young woman's sincere devotion made him become hesitant, briefly stuttering through his words and occasionally pausing.
"He was wavin' the gun around, kinda haphazardly. Not really aiming, just kinda flailing his arms. I tried to calm him down, tellin' him that he needed to put the gun down so I could help him. Sayin' that he might hurt someone doin' that. But he didn't quite like that. It's like my reassurance had some how broken the barrier, gettin' his attention." He nervously sipped on his beer, focusing distantly upon the carpet beneath his feet. Coyle was aware of the fact that he would surely lose confidence the second he even briefly glanced towards the young woman. Something about her genuine attention made him feel nervous, uncomfortable even. "So, he turned the gun on me."
It was as if the whole world had suddenly become dead silent. It was so quiet, Leland swore he could perceive the audio of his own blood actively pulsing through his veins. For a moment, he wondered if he had accidentally gone deaf. The only reason he knew that hadn't been the case was due to the fact that he could hear he young woman shifting upon the couch beside him, the cushions crunching beneath her weight and the fabric of her night gown slightly rustling.
"At this point, some other guys had arrived, a few other deputies, sergeants. Hell, even the damn sheriff. It's not often we get a call about a naked maniac with a gun." Leland chuckled, attempting to even slightly dissolve the intensity looming over his shoulders. Yet, the young woman had failed to reciprocate, remaining completely serious "My boss, Sheriff Smith, he tried to deescalate the guy, tellin' him to calm down, to lower the gun and all that. But he just wouldn't. And I could see it on his face, he wasn't gonna listen. I know he was gonna shoot me. I knew it then and I still know it now. He just had that look, ya know? I think somethin' was up with him, somethin' mentally. No sane person would point a gun at an officer. So, I gave him my final warning, telling him to lower the gun or I would have to shoot. And well... He didn't lower the gun."
Leland wasn't required to continue any further, the young woman was obviously smart enough to piece together the rest.
By now, it was quiet again, only the soft thrum of hooves against dirt echoing from the television. Coyle wasn't really sure how to continue the conversation following such a serious topic. So, he resorted to what he knew best, the only thing that could properly calm his nerves within that moment: He stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette upon the nearby ash tray before immediately lighting a new one.
Leland was a chain smoker, this was a well known fact. He smoked cigarettes within the same manner others breathed air to survive. But this was different. During this specific occasion, it wasn't just a force of habit. This was the result of dependence. He required something, anything, to dull his increasing nerves.
He situated the new cigarette between his lips, guiding the lighter up towards his mouth in order to properly ignite the fuse.
"Mr. Coyle? May I ask you something else?" The young woman spoke as he flicked the lighter, the warm illumination of the small flame glowing against his features within the darkness of the living room.
He inhaled as he ignited the fuse, puffing out a few exhales in order to confirm that it was properly lit.
"Please, call me Leland. I just told ya about how I shot and killed a guy, no need for this formal Mr. Coyle shit." He chuckled.
Although it was an obvious attempt towards some light hearted teasing, the young woman did not reward him with her own variation of laughter. Instead, she hesitated for a moment, audibly shifting upon the couch once more, as if she was too nervous to remain dormant for even a singular second.
"Okay..." She paused, as if mentally working up the courage "Leland, may I try a cigarette?"
The sound of his name upon her lips was like music to his ears, similar to the sound of the angels descending from the heavens whilst humming their hypnotizing melody. The audio of his own title glazed within her honey-like voice, rather than the signature "Mr. Coyle" she had become so seemingly fond of, caused the infamous warmth to return to Leland's chest.
Now that question had captured Coyle's attention, within a very different manner compared to her first inquiry.
He furrowed his brows as he shifted his focus within the young woman's attention, no longer concerned regarding the action of creating direct eye contact.
Leland was concerned he might have heard her wrong, maybe confused some of her words with similar phrases. She could have asked to change the channel or excused herself to bed, but his mind had accidentally failed him. Yet, with the way she was staring towards him, her features lacking even the slightest hint of regret, Coyle was soon informed of the reality that his ears had not mistaken him.
There was two ways in which Leland could go about the situation.
Option one: He could say no. He could do the responsible thing and reject her request. He could explain that it was a nasty habit that he wouldn't allow her to possess. He could educate her of all the risks and danger that accompanies the act of smoking.
Or, option two: He could agree. She was nineteen after all, old enough to make such a decision upon her own. If this was what she truly desired, then who was he to stop her? After all, he wasn't her dad, he couldn't tell her what to do. Reasonably, nothing was stopping her to going to the store and buying her own pack if he had ultimately disagreed. So why not properly teach her? He couldn't allow the young woman to purchase some shitty, sissy tobacco. No, certainly not. She deserved the good stuff that he smoked.
However, Lelands ultimate decision wasn't a result of moral conflict, contemplating between the responsible choice or the mature option. Instead, his decision was due entirely to his own desires, yearning to observe her plush lips wrapped around the base, his cigarette situated within her mouth. Something about it just felt so primal, so vulgar. Something of his between her lips.
"Alright." He had ultimately responded, nodding slightly, in order to reveal his agreement, before finally extending his arm across the expanse of space situated between the arm chair and the edge of the sofa.
However, the young woman had failed to crawl across the length of the couch and collect the cigarette. She did not reach towards his hand and acquire the smoke from his grasp. Instead, she became visibly flustered, fiddling with the hem of her dress once more whilst her vision awkwardly avoided the scrutiny of his own.
"Come on, girl. Yer wasting a perfectly good smoke here." Coyle teased, attempting to lighten the mood, assuming she was simply nervous regarding such a large decision. A choice that could alter her entire life.
The young woman did not dismiss his joke as she had previously, ignoring his laughter and responding with simple silence. Instead, she managed to respond with a giggle of her own, obviously becoming much more relaxed within his presence as they spent more and more time together. She was becoming a lot less tense and much more comfortable as the minutes ticked by.
"Uhm, to be honest, Leland..." She paused, her timid vision finally dancing up to meet his own, peering at him through her thick lashes "Ive never really done this before."
And God, such a claim was like some sort of celestial music to his ears. The fact that this would be her first time smoking made Coyle feel special, memorable even. He would do anything to be apart of such an important occasion within the young woman's life.
Furthermore, that exact sentence paired with the sound of his own name upon her tongue caused a silent growl to vibrate within the depths of his chest, a primal noise, something territorial and long forgotten. He desired nothing more than to perceive those exact words once more, but rather than when she sat situated upon the couch, but whilst she was located beneath his figure instead, her features flushed and her vision nervous, just as she appeared within that exact moment.
"Alright then, come here. I'll teach ya." He responded, gesturing for her to join him with a slight wave of his arm.
Just like the obedient young woman she was, she had done just that. She crawled from the sofa, crept across the carpet, and stood before Leland, her hands nervously clasped across her stomach, as if she wasn't quite sure what do to with her arms.
"Like this." Coyle mumbled.
The officer brought the cigarette to his lips once more, pinching it between his fingers as he inhaled, consuming a large breath as the smoke drifted through his lungs, a rather relaxing sensation he had grown so familiar with over the years. And after a few seconds, he removed the cigarette from his mouth, held in the smoke, before finally exhaling, allowing the dark fog to slowly escape from the depths of his throat.
All whilst their vision remained completely connected, without even a singular moment of failure. It was intense, heated, and somewhat passionate.
"Now yer turn." Coyle finally stated, his voice much more low and gruff than he had previously expected.
Leland displayed the cigarette a few inches in front of his face. His arm was no longer extended within a presenting motion. Instead, it was much more of an attracting action, as if he was attempting to literally lure the young woman closer. He wasn't exactly sure why he had failed to just offer the young woman the cigarette, to simply hand it to her, but he cant exactly say that he was upset with the results.
In response, the young woman leaned forward, bracing her figure with the usage of her palm splayed upon his thigh. This obviously wasn't her intent, and in all honesty, she appeared completely unaware of such a gesture. However, Coyle surely wasn't. As soon as her fingers had connected with the fabric covered expanse of his leg, it was as if an electric current had suddenly exploded throughout his veins.
Additionally, she situated her other hand around his own, clasping her dainty fingers around his knuckles, obviously attempting to steady the cigarette as she brought it towards her lips. The sight of her small palm wrapped around his much larger hand caused Leland to bite down upon his lower lip, as if he was attempting to cage something feral and primal that was threatening to escape.
Now, the pair were only mere inches apart, their vision completely connected as she wrapped her lips around the cigarette and began to inhale.
At first, her reaction was a bit rough. When the young woman finally detached her mouth from the cigarette, she failed to cough, obviously attempting to appear both composed and cool in front of the officer as she forcefully contained the smoke within her lungs. However, as soon as she released her breath, the young woman instantly started to hack.
Something about the sight, the young woman struggling to properly control herself, fighting to accept the smoke, the momentary display of her vulnerability, caused a rather amused smile to inch across Leland's lips. Yet, he wasn't ignorant to the slight smirk that graced the young woman's features as well throughout the length of her coughing fit, she too was obviously aware of the rather candid moment they were actively sharing. A situation that a father and his son's girlfriend should obviously not be participating in. Something much more intimate and personal compared to before.
"Aww come on, that was barely nothin'." Coyle objected as the young woman shook her head in disapproval, slightly giggling beneath her breath "Try again, jus' once more."
Once she had finally composed her breathing, her hacking slowly encountering its conclusion, the young woman steadied her features, her soft smirk slowly melting from her face as she gazed towards him one more. There was a hint of softness glazing her vision, something both gentle and tender, as if there was a rather intense thought she was struggling to contain.
And just as Leland had expected, she obeyed.
Once again, the young woman leaned forward, one palm braced upon Leland's thigh, and the other wrapped around his fingers, steadying the cigarette. However, Coyle found himself searching for some sort of support as well, but not due to the odd position. No. Instead, a result of his mental concern. For a moment, Leland worried that if he didn't properly ground himself, he might begin to float away.
Instinctually, he reached his left hand forward, gently grasping at the young woman's upper back, as if he was attempting to physically support her as well. And as the young woman wrapped her lips around the cigarette once again, Coyle found himself gently caressing her shoulders, his fingers carefully laced within her soft hair, tenderly stroking her locks, as if to somehow comfort her, to help her properly relax.
"Thats it, girl. Relax." Leland whispered, quietly observing her through each step: Her eyes closed, brows furrowed within focus, and lips suckling lightly upon the cigarette.
When she finally detached her mouth once more, the young woman did just as she had been instructed. She contained the smoke within her lungs for a few moments before eventually releasing a breath. With this exhale, she had failed to cough, no longer hacking against the smoke infiltrating her lungs. Instead, she ejected the smoke, causing the fog to dance across Lelands features.
For the remainder of the evening, the pair were situated within the living room, watching Western film after cowboy movie until the late hours of the night. Much later than Coyle typically preferred, due to the fact that he was required to wake early the following morning. However, as the young woman positioned herself by his feet, and whilst the two of them repeatedly passed the cigarette back and forth, sharing it amongst each other, he just couldn't seem to bring himself to object. Besides, Leland wasn't really tired anyway.
Summary: You are dating Leland's son. Your boyfriend asks you to tend to his childhood home for a few days while him and his father go on a trip for about a week. Completely prepared to simply manage the house for seven days (possessing an empty home to do whatever you please), you soon figure out that things hadn't gone exactly as planned.
Warnings: Smut, angst, age gap, smoking, cigarettes, bad parenting, cheating, swearing, descriptions of nudity, possessiveness, obsession, kissing, domination, oral (male receiving), jealousy, lying, alcohol, drinking, cuddling, arguing, and mentions of: Weapons, religious themes, and marriage.
Word Count: 15,711
Claiming that Leland's boss was angry would be a huge understatement. Not only had his previous work been substandard, with Coyle repeatedly ignoring the Sheriff's instructions, simply in order to attend a random diner and harass the staff. But now, he was calling out, claiming that he was incredibly ill and would be unable to attend his following shifts for a few days. When, in reality, Leland simply desired to occupy his time along the young woman. His labour was increasingly deteriorating, and his boss certainly wasn't impressed.
Upon that magically evening, once the pair had finally breached the edge of no return, and after they had concluded their rather lewd actions, the young woman had promptly curled up within Coyle's lap. Her knees had been drawn against her chest, palms situated beneath her head, acting as some sort of pillow, and figure cuddled into his own. Within that exact moment, the young woman depicted that of a warm little kitten actively resting upon his thighs.
Leland had stroked her hair whilst the two shared a cigarette, the audio of the Western film acting as some sort of background music. He had covertly adored her features, aware of the manner in which the gentle illumination from the television screen managed to only further accentuate her favorable qualities. Her adorable nose was now glazed beneath a layer of soft light, innocent vision absolutely focused upon the movie, and flawless skin practically glowing within the darkness. Coyle had caressed her head within a rather tender manner, repeatedly brushing stay locks from her forehead, as if he was actively stroking a soft feline.
Due to the warmth radiating from his form and the general comfort provided by his presence, the young woman had eventually fallen asleep. The sensation of his tender caresses accompanied by the rather relaxing nicotine had acting as some sort of metaphorical sedative. After only about thirty minutes or so, the young woman had promptly drifted to sleep, successfully calmed by the man actively holding her. It truly felt as if nothing could possibly harm her. With Leland by her side, the young woman felt more safe than she ever had before.
Furthermore, with her small form cuddled against him, appearing both secure and vulnerable within his lap (entirely reassured by his presence), a rather reassuring sensation suddenly washed through Coyle's system. A soft grin of pride had trembled across his lips, gazing affectionately towards the young woman. He felt honored, somewhat gratified by the reality that he successfully made her feel secure enough to let down her guard and become vulnerable. Eventually, he too had fallen asleep as well, with the young woman resting upon his lap and his hand draped absently across her temple.
His slumber had been disrupted a while later. Although he was not exactly sure how long he had been sleeping, Leland was immediately introduced to the sight of the completely dark living room. Each corner was shrouded within darkness, the world outside the window now almost entirely pitch black (disregarding the soft glow of both the night stars and large moon), and thick shadows clung to each piece of furniture. The television was no longer displaying various clips of cowboys and horses, common images exhibited during Western films. Instead, a mixture of both black and white static had successfully infiltrated the screen, erupting with a soft buzzing audio.
Whilst he slept, Coyle failed to envision one of his typical dreams, such as a simple day of work or some sort of wacky possibility that only his mind could conjure. Instead, he had been experiencing some sort of stress induced dream. Well, not exactly a dream, but more of a vivid and terrible memory. An absolute nightmare he had been attempting to forget.
He had been reliving the singular occasion in which he had forgot to retrieve Michael from school.
At the time, his son had been around five or six years old, probably within the first grade. Most of the time, Leland would end his work shift around three before basically speeding to the elementary school, in order to successfully fetch Michael at the scheduled pick up time of 3:30. However, that specific day, he had been let off much earlier than normal, around one ish, due to the fact that he had finished all of his tasks and chores much sooner than usual. And due to such a reality, Coyle possessed a bit of free time on his hands, down time he wasn't quite accustomed to anymore.
Therefore, he had finally been allowed to indulge within one of his more primal needs, an act he rarely tended to now that he was a single father: Sex.
Coyle possessed a rather friendly and cordial relationship with the woman across the street. She was young, kind, and around Leland's age. She did not yet support a family of her own, such as a husband or children, not even a pet dog. Rather, she was a motivated individual, someone who participated within a large amount of over time at her job, entirely work driven, an admirable quality that Leland had respected.
The two were civil, friendly towards one another within the same manner he would have been with any of his other neighbors. Sometimes, Leland would offer to complete various physical labour chores, such as moving her lawn, tending to the garden, or repairing household equipment. And in return, she would take care of Michael during the summer (when Coyle was still busy with work, not exactly able to properly watch his son every single day), occasionally do his laundry, and even prepare some sort of delicious desert for both Leland and his son to enjoy, most likely pie, cake, or cookies.
However, the two had always remained simple friends, nothing more. Sure, his neighbor was an attractive, sweet, and nice woman, around the same age as himself, and someone Leland could envision himself building a life with. Yet, Coyle just simply didn't possess enough time for such exclusive relationships anymore, especially not now that he had a young son to take care of. Michael had always been his number one priority.
They had never participated within anything further than simple, neighborly interactions. Their relationship had remained strictly appropriate, no matter how often Leland had considered it, and despite the fact that he had discovered her covertly gazing towards him as he mowed the lawn, obviously enjoying the view, upon multiple different occasions.
Well, not until that specific day at least.
As soon as such an idea had appeared within his mind, Coyle was unable to dismiss the large smile that had immediately managed to stretch across his features. He was basically sprinting out the exit of the police station as soon as he had clocked out, like a dumb dog mindlessly chasing a ball during a game of fetch. After months of remaining basically celibate, only provided with the affection of his own hands, Leland had become practically hypnotized by the simple notion of sex.
He had sped through town, much too focused upon the prospect of possible intimate relations to address the reality that he had blown through multiple red lights. And as soon as he had arrived upon the front porch of his neighbors home, Coyle failed to waste even a singular moment before he was profusely banging upon the front door.
Of course, she had answered the notification of his arrival rather quickly, pushing open the front door only a few seconds after he had started to knock. She had always been inviting like that, not forcing her visitors to await her response for very long. However, she obviously hadn't been expecting Leland to appear upon the front porch, due to the fact that she was well aware of his work schedule, often offering to take care of Michael upon the days Coyle was required to stay late. In all honesty, she had probably been anticipating the mail man or one of her close friends.
A rather surprised expression had briefly infiltrated her features, due to such a discovery, her vision widening and lips parting slightly. However, such a countenance was soon erased, before quickly being replaced by a kind smile, politely greeting him with a delighted "Oh, Leland! What a lovely surprised. Please, come in!" Accompanied by a soft wave of her hand, gesturing for him to join her.
Even if he truly wanted to, Coyle was aware of the reality that he would be unable to deny such an invitation. He was much too desperate. In all honesty, he was upon the verge of simply purchasing a prostitute. Who knows when he would be rewarded with such free time ever again? So, he had practically bound through the entrance the moment the woman had answered.
In order to maintain some sort of chivalry, the two had shared respectful small talk, chatting about both neighborhood gossip and work, simple topics that were regarded as both respectful and polite. However, as soon as Leland had even muttered the words "Soooo... I was thinkin'-" the entire situation had escalated rather quickly.
After months of lacking any sort of intimate attention from another person, Coyle swiftly become rather lost within the entire experience. As soon as he was provided with the Heavenly sensation of the woman's dainty hands pressed against his bare chest, Leland had been consumed by his own desperation. It was as if the entire world around him had suddenly ceased to exist. A bomb could have detonated nearby, and he still would have been unable to properly pull himself away from her. Well, unless such an interruption was in regards to his son.
It wasn't until Coyle had successfully managed to flip the woman onto her stomach, one hand pressed against the back of her head, the other palm grasping her hip, and cock repeatedly thrusting inside of her, that he his trance had finally been broken. Provided with the new position, Leland had swiftly perceived the small clock situated upon the adjacent nightstand, the time reading four in the afternoon.
"Oh shit." Leland had suddenly exclaimed, immediately bounding from the bed as if the entire situation had suddenly failed to exist. The only thing he could think of was Michael, the idea of his son all alone as he waited aimlessly for his father to arrive was completely distressing.
As Coyle scrambled to his feet, searching frantically for his disregarded clothing, the woman had awkwardly shifted onto her back, in order to properly observe him. A rather confused and slightly concerned expression was currently plastered across her features, brows furrowed and a hint of worry glimmering within her irises. She was obviously nervous regarding Lelands abrupt behaviors, concerned that she had somehow made a mistake or accidentally managed to upset him. After months of secretly watching as he mowed the lawn or tended to the garden, practically hypnotized by the manner in which his muscles would strain beneath his shirt and the thin layer of sweat that properly glazed his flesh, the woman certainly did not desire to ruin such an opportunity by accidentally upsetting Coyle.
"What? What is it? D-Did I do something wrong?" She had inquired, voice both awkward and faltering, anxiety audibly seeping through her soft words.
Leland did not pause for a moment, prepared to properly reassure or comfort the woman, to confirm that this was not her fault and he had simply dismissed all of his responsibilities. Instead, his ministrations failed to falter as he haphazardly pulled his pants up the expanse of his legs, feet slightly slipping against the polished floor as he frantically redressed.
"No. God no." He had responded, much too focused upon the task of successfully yanking his shirt over his head to even consider briefly glancing within her general direction "I forgot to pick up Michael from school, and Im already thirty minutes late."
Although the woman was rather discouraged, extremely aware of the reality that such an opportunity would most likely not appear for a very long while, if ever, she had still remained understanding. This was his son after all. The two of them weren't within a serious relationship, this had just been a simple hook up. She had always admired how devoted Leland was in regards to Michael, adoring how he had remained both present and attentive, despite the fact that he was a single father. So, the woman had eventually responded with a soft "Oh God, yes, go, please." Although the slight twinge of sorrow laced within her voice wasn't entirely concealed.
Once Leland had finally arrived within the designated pick up lane in front of the school, he immediately discovered that the area was completely desolate. There was not a singular parent, child, or even another car within sight. The parking lot was almost entirely empty, except for his own son.
Michael was standing rather awkwardly upon the curb, figure slightly swaying beneath the weight of his large backpack, a bag that was rather large compared to his small build. He was gazing absently towards the ground beneath his feet as Coyle rolled up beside him, obviously attempting to conceal the reality that he was actively crying. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, features glazed beneath a rather flustered crimson hue, all whilst he failed to emit even a singular sound. He did not scream, cry, or wail. Instead, Michael had remained completely silent as he sobbed, other than the occasional shudder or soft hick up he would release.
"Hey, buddy. Im so sorry I was late." Leland had exclaimed with a soft chuckle, attempting to remedy the entire situation with a subtle hint of humor, as if the entire occasion was just a comical mistake.
However, as Michael unlatched the back door, crawled into the seat, and promptly buckled up, he had remained completely silent. His son did not release an awkward giggle or begin to interrogate his father in regards to his tardiness. Instead, he was absolutely mute, as if he was unable to even speak.
Michael had never been an angry kid, not even today. As a child, his son had often resorted to tears or sorrow whenever something failed to go his way. If one of his toys had accidentally broke, Michael did not throw a tantrum or express his frustration through violence. Instead, he would often resort to tears and sadness. Even throughout his teenage years and as he evolved into a young adult, Michael was not prone to rage or fury. Rather, he always relied upon emotional regulation, attempting to solve an issue through talking, instead of irritation motivated arguing.
Whereas Leland was often quick to both anger and frustration, in response to even the slightest inconvenience, Michael had always been both soft and gentle, maybe even a bit ignorant at times. He must have gotten such a quality from his mother. Such tenderness certainly wasn't retrieved from his fathers genetics.
Whilst Coyle drove back home, with Michael crying silently within the backseat, the car was entirely quiet. He did not turn on the radio, ask about his son's day, or roll down the windows, as he typically would have. Michael failed to express his disappointment or inquire about his father's tardiness. He did not begin to yell or holler, angry in regards to Coyle's blatant parental failure. However, Lelands heart had instantly shattered as soon as his son had finally spoke up.
"You forgot about me." Michael had simply whispered beneath his breath, voice slightly cracking as he spoke through his own tears.
Coyle never forgot to retrieve Michael from school ever again. In fact, he made it a point to always be on time or even a bit early. He had never allowed a woman to effect the relationship between himself and his own son. At least, not until now that is.
As Leland awoke from such a God awful dream, mentally reliving such a horrible memory during his own slumber, he was briefly effected by a mixture of both guilt and sadness. However, such stress was swiftly dismissed as soon as he perceived his current situation: The fact that the young woman was still curled upon his lap, releasing repetitive shallow breaths whilst she rested. Rather than the heavy sensation of regret actively looming within the depths of his stomach. Instead, Coyle was immediately overwhelmed with infatuation, gazing softly towards the young woman, a fond smile etched across his features as he gently caressed her hair once more, movements both slow and tender, in an attempt to avoid accidentally disrupting her slumber.
Leland wondered what she was currently dreaming about. Maybe she was envisioning something in regards to her education, or possibly a simple day of work, just as he typically thought of during his own period of rest. Had her mind created some sort of wonky story to entertain her throughout the extent of her slumber? Or, was she also reliving the memory of the occasion in which her own father had accidentally forgotten to retrieve her from school when she was younger? In all honesty, Coyle hoped she was dreaming of him.
He considered his options for a few moments, contemplating possibly waking the young woman, informing her of the late hour before guiding her up to bed. He considered simply allowing her to continue resting upon his lap, forcing himself to sleep within the uncomfortable chair, simply just to avoid even slightly disrupting the young woman.
However, eventually, instead of properly waking her, Coyle had decided to simply collect her unconscious form within the confines of his hands. He wrapped one arm around the bend of her knees, cradling her head within the other before carefully rising to his feet.
Instead of suddenly stirring within his grasp before expressing a muffled version of her drowsy confusion, the young woman had instinctually cuddled even further into his grasp. As if her body was operating entirely off of her natural desires, the young woman had shifted within his arms, wrapped her hands around the column of his neck, searching for some form of support, and buried her features against the firm barrier his chest, all whilst she remained completely asleep. Such a reality had caused that familiar sensation of affection to suddenly infiltrate his stomach, an intense warmth spreading across the length of his chest and even up the expanse of his throat.
In an attempt to avoid possibly disrupting the young woman, Leland refrained from successfully turning off the television or forcing her to walk upon her own. Rather, he simply clutched her dainty figure against his chest before he began to carry her upstairs. Coyle hauled her unconscious form into his own room, carefully situated her limp form amongst the comforter, and finally crawled onto the mattress beside the young woman.
Once he was successfully located next to her unconscious figure, Coyle gently pulled the blanket over them. He carefully collected her form within his arms, softly guiding the young woman's movements until they were properly cuddling. With his arms wrapped around her torso, her head resting upon his shoulder, and her legs coiled against his own, thats exactly how the two slept for the remainder of the evening. The pair had snuggled until the sound of the phone ringing had properly disrupted their shared sleep the following morning.
It was around nine when the repetitive chime had successfully began to blare from downstairs, the piercing audio slightly muffled through the wall. The rather unexpected ringing had caused Leland to flinch awake, the young woman drowsily stirring amongst the sheets from beside him. At first, she appeared rather confused, releasing a soft groan against the fluffy pillow as she rolled relentlessly within the bed. However, after only a few brief seconds of sleep glazed apprehension, the young woman had suddenly shot upwards, immediately glaring towards Leland as if her own life was currently being threatened.
Due to her rather shocked expression, vision wide and brows raised, he had honestly expected her to question why the Hell she was suddenly located within the confines of his bed, rather than Michael's room, as if she had completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. Coyle assumed the young woman would become mad or rather disoriented upon her awakening. However, such stressful notions were soon dismissed when the young woman rather frantically stated:
"Shit! You're late for work!" As if such a reality was the most important thing upon planet Earth.
Rather than becoming both anxious and delirious as well, Leland had swiftly shushed the young woman. He brushed his hand against her cheek whilst he softly instructed her to go to sleep, quietly explaining that he would respond to the call and she was no longer expected to worry. He was comforting her within the same manner someone may attempt to reassure a distraught animal: With the usage of a gentle voice and soft movements.
However, although he had been both gentle and soft with the young woman, whispering with the sweetest tone he could possibly manage, she had failed to comply. The young woman did not simply accept such a claim before collapsing amongst the sheets once more. Instead, she remained completely up right, silently observing Coyle with a rather bewildered expression as he traipsed towards the exit. In all honesty, she had expected him to become rather frantic and frenzied as well, due to such an alarming discovery. Yet, in all honesty, Leland appeared rather euphoric as he climbed from the bed and traveled towards the door, like he was actively floating amongst the clouds.
Prior to successfully answering the phone, Leland fabricated the most convincing sick countenance he could possibly manage, supporting a hint of exhaustion and utilizing his rather raspy morning voice to his own advantage. He was well aware of exactly who was situated upon the other end of the line: His boss.
Once Coyle had finally answered the phone, the Sheriff had immediately began to interrogate him. He did not wait for Leland to properly address him, and his boss failed to provide Coyle with a successfully greeting, as most people do during a phone call. Instead, the Sheriff had instantly started to catechize him, questioning his tardiness and why he had failed to arrive at the station that morning, as if Leland was currently a criminal under investigation.
His voice had been accusatory, a slight hint of criticism lacing his tone, as if he was actively blaming Coyle. And of course, he was lying. Leland obviously wasn't sick, he just simply yearned to spend alone time alongside the young woman. However, his boss didn't possess enough evidence to successfully confirm such a reality just yet.
The Sheriff certainly wasn't pleased when Leland claimed that he was ill, stating that he was much too sick to properly attend his scheduled shift, possibly even for the next few days. He explained that his stomach hurt and he had been throwing up relentlessly, providing rather disgusting details as well, in an attempt to further solidify such a lie. Why would someone provide such personal specifics of their body functions upon their own accord? Obviously, he actually had to have been sick, right?
Wrong; despite the fact that his boss possessed no real evidence to properly unravel such a lie, he had still decided to utilize some rather not so nice words before finally hanging up the phone. The Sheriff stated that Leland "better be in on Monday" or else he would be forced to "find a new job." He had even declared that Coyle was becoming "too big for his own britches," honestly thinking he could actually dismiss his superior within such a disrespectful manner.
Although his boss had successfully scolded at him, hollering at Leland over the phone and threatening to fire him, which would cause any reasonable employee to become terrified. Most people would have instantly arrived at their job following such a severe reprimanding, even if they actually were ill. Instead, as soon as the Sheriff had properly ended the call, audibly slamming the receiver against the hook, Coyle couldn't have been more delighted. He didn't have to go to work, he was allowed to simply savor the young woman's presence, without any outside components, and thats all that truly mattered.
Leland had practically skipped upstairs and bound into his bedroom, a wide smile stretching across his features as soon as he discovered that the young woman had remained situated within the sheets during his brief absence. In fact, he was so excited, Coyle had even sprung through the air before landing upon the bed, successfully managing to smother the young woman beneath his form. An action in which had caused her to begin to giggle whilst Leland nuzzled his features against her neck, a rather sickeningly sweet display of his own affection.
"You've got me all to yerself, sweetheart." He had drawled against her skin before ultimately beginning to press firm kisses across her throat, successfully initiating their first intimate act of the day.
The following few days were comparable to that of absolute Heaven. The two would fuck like a pair of wild animals, constantly crawling all over each other. They would have sex within the kitchen, the young woman perched upon the edge of the counter, clinging to Coyle's shoulders as he repeatedly thrusted into her. They had shared numerous showers, which barely involved any actual cleansing, baths occupied entirely by the young woman crouched upon her knees instead. Of course, the two had fucked within the living room, located upon Leland's beloved arm chair whilst she relentlessly road him, just as she had done that initial evening. Upon a few different occasions, they had even had sex within the back yard. Coyle had wondered if Mr. Cooper was secretly observing whilst he pleasured the young woman. However, such a notion had failed to properly irritate him as it had previously. Instead, a rather surprising sensation of pride had managed to infiltrate his system; at least now, his nosey neighbor would be well aware of exactly who the young woman belonged to: Leland.
The two had even experimented sexually as well. Nothing too drastic, typically just Leland dressed within his uniform, clutching his belt as he loomed above the young woman from the foot of the bed, a rather familiar scene that had reminded her of that very first evening in which she had discovered Coyle adoring her within the darkness of the night. Occasionally, they would become intimate within the confines of his cruiser, with Coyle yanking her into the backseat before properly compressing her head against the leather chair. Of course, in return, the young woman would tug upon his tie and utilize some sort of sultry statement, often including "Have I been bad, Officer? Do you need to punish me?" And "Thank you for your service, sir." Claims in which had only further inflated his own, self obsessed ego.
Furthermore, Leland had even allowed the young woman to assume the rather dominant role upon various occasions, actively letting her cuff him to his bed, successfully restraining his limbs against the mattress. Sometimes, following a brief bathroom break, he would return to discover the young woman completely nude, except for his uniform cap situated upon her head as she twirled his metal cuffs around her fingers. She would whisper rather seductive statements, such as "Is there anything I can do to bribe you, Officer?" Or "Let me show you how sorry I truly am, sir." Leland had even discovered himself embracing such a dynamic, often muttering something along the lines of "Bribery is a felony, sweetheart. But... I think I can make an exception just this once." Or "Do that again and I might just have to lock ya up." Through a mixture of both gasps and grunts.
Yet, no matter how much he objected and pretended to loath such a reality, it was becoming increasingly obvious that such confliction was a blatant facade. In all honesty, Coyle rather enjoyed the rare occasions in which the young woman had taken the lead, assertive with her desires and willing to obtain what she truly wanted. She did not simply submit to his domineering tactics, as all of his previous lovers had. Instead, she was both firm and confident, which had been somewhat of a pleasant surprise for Coyle. Something about such an assured young woman got him all hot and bothered.
Christ, Coyle hadn't had that many orgasms since he was a horny teenager.
As the hours passed and whilst the pair spent an increasing amount of time together, the young woman's belongings had magically managed to disappear from Michael's room and somehow teleport into Leland's bedroom. Her clothing was now strewn across the floor, toothbrush situated within his own private bathroom, and even her beloved novel had been forgotten upon the night stand.
Upon a few different occasions, Coyle would bring the young woman out for a meal. He would instruct her to get "all prettied up" before he accompanied her to a local restaurant.
They had purchased lunch from a nearby cafe at some point, consuming separate sandwiches whilst located upon a park bench together. For breakfast one morning, Leland had introduced the young woman to his favorite coffee shop, where the two had ordered muffins and spent the entire time giggle amongst each other. He had even decided to bring her to the local diner, buying dinner for the two.
Soon enough, all of the waitresses that had been subject to Lelands torment for months at that point, had quickly discovered the reasoning behind his rather erratic behaviors once Coyle had arrived alongside the young woman. "Oh, that poor girl." One of the staff had whispered to another as soon as the pair had entered. "I bet you ten bucks Officer Dickhead will be nice now that his little girlfriends around." A waitress had gambled after perceiving the wide grin of glee actively stretched across Leland's features as he pulled out a chair for the young woman.
Yet, the young woman would never fail to prepare a meal for Coyle throughout the day. Whether that be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, it didn't really matter, as long as she was displaying her own version of appreciation.
As if it was some sort of vision from the past, she would cook food whilst twirling throughout the kitchen, effortlessly performing a little show for Leland to savor. Of course, he would obtain covert glanced over his shoulder, silently enjoying the view, just as he had done ever since she had arrived. However, the only slight alteration to such a routine was the fact that rather than supporting the modesty provided by a proper skirt or a comfortable shirt. Now, the young woman would be almost entirely nude whilst she cooked, only supporting the decency of a small pair of underwear accompanied by a lacy bra. Most of the time, she was unable to successfully finish such meal preparations before Coyle had eventually bound from his chair and captured her within his grasp.
And every single evening, without fail, the pair would discover themselves situated within the living room. As soon as the sun would begin to set and darkness would start to consume the Earth, the two would instinctually migrate towards the den like a pair of magnets.
Compared to before, the young woman no longer occupied the adjacent sofa, she did not maintain an appropriate amount of distance, and she failed to preserve the typical relationship supported between a young woman and her boyfriend's father. Instead, as the two observed a random Western film and shared a cigarette together, she would openly situate herself upon his lap. She had become a lot less timid, much more comfortable as she freely cuddled into his embrace. With a single gesture of Coyle's hand, the young woman would crawl across his figure, rest against his chest, and occasionally littering soft kisses upon his exposed skin. She would gently press her lips against his collar bone, wrists, and even his cheeks, whatever ounce of flesh she could possibly collide with.
Now that they had finally confronted the rather tense emotions they had been secretly withholding from each other, the two were practically within their own little world. No longer forced to distance themselves, required to dismiss all of their desires. Instead, now, the pair were reasonably allowed to occupy the entire day together, whether that be ordering food, simply spending time with each other, or having sex, before ultimately ending each evening with a Western movie and a shared cigarette.
However, their private little paradise had eventually been disrupted upon Friday morning.
The two of them had always been aware of the reality that such a charade could not last forever. At some point, the young woman would be forced to return to college, Leland would be required to attend his scheduled shifts once again, not to mention the fact that Michael would be arriving within only a few days. They were simply living out some sort of fantasy, and thats what it had always been: A dream. Their secret relationship couldn't actually continue forever. Such an unspoken agreement had been bound to burst into flames since the moment the two had decided to breach the edge of no return. They were playing with fire, but it was a risk they were willing to take if it permitted them to savor even such momentary happiness.
It was a pleasant morning, reminiscent of the days one might have spent at their camp upon the lake during the summer as a child. Everything just felt so magically and perfect, when you're not yet expected to consider the stress of adult life. The warmth of the sun danced through the sheer curtains, engulfing the room within a rather comfortable temperature, and casting soft rays of light across the expanse of the floor. The atmosphere lacked even a singular cloud, a gentle breeze would occasionally collide against the structure of the home, and morning birds continuously chirped their melodic tunes within the distance. The entire home was quiet, except for the rather repetitive squeaking of the bed frame accompanied by a lewd collection of both moans and grunts.
That morning, the young woman had initially awoken Leland with the usage of a rather satisfying surprise; she had been rather enthralled by his resting form, discovering the reality that he appeared extremely relaxed whilst he slept, a rather rare countenance for Coyle to support. The young woman had caressed his features for a while, rubbing the pad of her thumb against his plush cheeks, brushing his messy hair from his forehead, and softly stroking his beard. She adored the rather peaceful expression etched across his face, one that greatly contrasted his typical countenance of both stress and frustration.
Eventually, a rather devious idea had suddenly appeared within her mind, immediately determined to test the bounds of such vulnerability. She desired to discover just how quickly she could successfully disrupt his slumber.
After becoming rather jaded by his lack of a reaction (the fact that he remained unresponsive in regards to each tender caress of his features), the young woman had carefully crawled down the length of the mattress before situating herself between his out stretched legs.
With his soft cock now laying mere inches in front of her face, she had experimented for a few minutes, analyzing just how much it took to finally fracture his rest. The young woman teased Leland's sleeping figure, simply in oder to observe each and every one of his reactions. She had palmed him through his boxers, studying each slight twitch or sudden shift he would execute, all whilst his dick slowly inflated. She littered tender kisses up the length of his thighs, discovering just how vulnerable Coyle truly was when he wasn't constantly vigilant. Once his dick was finally straining against the fabric of his underwear, as a result of her relentless torment, the young woman had successfully removed his boxers before finally consuming his length.
She softly suckled upon his member, executing gentle licks as she swirled her tongue around his blunt tip. After a few moments of such tender foreplay, Coyle had finally stirred from above her. His vision wearily flickered open, sensitive to the morning sun light and still drowsy, due to the effect of his own rest. Somewhat confused, Leland had extended his arms above his head, releasing a rather gruff grunt as he stretched his form, before he swiftly began to search for the reason behind such a satisfying awakening.
Yet, such a gravely grunt had swiftly transformed into a gargled groan as soon as he discovered the view of the young woman nestled between his knees, lips wrapped around the width of his shaft, and dainty palms steadying the base of his cock whilst the released the occasional moan, sending soft vibrations throughout the length of his erection.
"Come here, sweetness." Leland had grumbled, gesturing lazily with his hands, silently instructing the young woman to properly mount him "If ya keep goin' like that, ya might just ruin all the fun."
And she had been riding him ever since.
Coyle had been situated upon the bed, legs outstretched and a cigarette situated loosely between his lips. Smoke consistently billowed from the fuse, his words rather muffled as he attempted to speak without accidentally dropping the cigarette. His hands were plastered upon the young woman's hips, gently guiding each of her movements, just as he always did. All whilst he gazed rather fondly towards the display in front of him, within the same exact manner an artist may adore a masterpiece they had just created. Leland looked at the young woman as if she was his entire world. He was basically wrapped around her finger.
The young woman was located upon his lap, hands braced against the firm barrier of his chest, in an attempt to stabilize herself, whilst she continuously bounced upon his dick. She rocked her hips against his own, releasing a string of moans and occasionally leaning down in order to allow Leland to blow the cigarette smoke into the confines of her own mouth.
The two were conversing just as they always did whenever participating within such intimacy, with Coyle whispering his typical "Thats it, girl." Or "Ya know just how to make a man happy, sweetheart." To which the young woman would never fail to respond with the usage of a soft moan or some sort of remark of her own, usually something along the lines of "You ain't so bad yourself, old man." It was a rather playful nickname she seemed to favor recently, jokingly flirting with him, and causing Leland to remark often with: "Christ, sweetness, Im only thirty."
Coyle was upon the verge of his first orgasm of that specific day, his cock repeatedly twitching inside of the young woman whilst her walls relentlessly convulsed around his shaft, when he perceived the audio of the front door slamming from down stairs. Rather shocked, he had immediately halted the young woman, compressing her form against his own as he pushed against her hips. An action in which managed to only further penetrate her.
The young woman had assumed this was some sort of sexual tactic, oblivious to the alarming noise that had just erupted from the front entrance. So, when she had begun to respond with a rather sultry moan, his thick tip pressed firmly against her most sensitive area, Leland had swiftly clasped a heavy palm over her lips, attempting to physically silence the young woman.
And that is when the worst possible result had occurred.
"Dad?" Michael's voice suddenly echoed from down stairs, the sound of frantic foot steps traveling towards the stairwell following soon after.
This wasn't at all how this was supposed to go. His son had been expected to remain within Florida until Sunday. Him and the young woman were supposed to have three more days together, which was certainly enough time to properly savor one another, whilst also successfully removing all of the evidence of their inappropriate relations. This certainly had not been the plan, and the two were obviously not prepared for such an unexpected surprise.
"(Y/N)?" His son had further exclaimed, his voice swiftly advancing as he seemingly traveled up the steps.
With his cock still buried deep inside of her and his large palm plastered firmly across her lips, the young woman's vision had suddenly widened, a cold wave of terror instantly crashing down upon her. This was the absolute worst possible position to be caught within, there was no way they could reasonably excuse such an exposing situation. If Michael had returned home and simply discovered one of the young woman's shirts forgotten upon Coyle's bed room floor, then she could just claim that it must have gotten mixed up within the laundry. However, there was absolutely no way the young woman could explain such a revealing position. What was she supposed to say? "Whoops, I must have slipped, fell, and landed on his dick."
She appeared much less surprised compared to Leland, due to the reality that the young woman had not remained physically frozen for long. After a few brief moments of shock, she had swiftly pulled herself from his lap, forcing Coyle to refrain from releasing a rather strangled moan, in response to the sudden stimulation.
The pair immediately bounded from the mattress, scrambling to their feet as they searched desperately for their respected clothing. As Leland yanked on a random pair of pajama pants, the young woman had started to shove her forgotten belongings beneath the bed, attempting to successfully dispose of such incriminating evidence. A singular abandoned shirt would have been one thing, but a pile of her underwear and even her beloved novel would have been a completely different story.
"Dad? Are you in there?" Michael had inquired, knocking lightly upon the wooden door, now situated directly outside the bedroom, standing only mere feet away within the hall.
Although the young woman was still completely nude, now that her literal boyfriend was situated behind the feeble privacy provided by the door, she had failed to properly dress herself. She did not pull on a random shirt or select a proper night gown. Instead, she had swiftly scurried into the on suite bathroom and carefully latched the door shut behind her.
An intense sensation of dread had suddenly weighed itself within the depths of Coyle's gut, due to the reality that this may have been the last occasion in which he was ever allowed to view the young woman naked. Now that his son had returned, all of their previous relations were required to conclude. And he hadn't even gotten to finish.
Once she was successfully hidden, with the young woman confined within the bathroom and all of her belongings shoved hastily beneath the bed, Leland finally opened the door. His hair was surely a mess and his features were obviously flushed, due to the rather intense sex he had just participated within. Yet, he had attempted to behave as normal as possible, dismissing his disheveled appearance as the result of simple slumber.
"Michael?" Coyle had inquired, his voice both horse and gravelly as he rubbed absently at his foggy vision, attempting to reinforce the idea that he had just awoken "Whats going on? I thought you were with your grandmother?"
Michael stood before him now, the epitome of a young man. He was no longer the little boy that Leland often envisioned him as. The cute kid who always had some sort of bruise or scrape from playing too rough. The child with missing teeth and a goofy grin. Instead, his son was now tall, lean, and rather handsome, greatly depicting his own father.
The two supported the same, dark hair, icy eyes, and a similar build. Of course, Michael possessed a few of his mothers characteristics as well, such as her button nose, subtle dimples, and the beauty mark situated directly above his lip, the same exact freckle his mother had supported. But in general, Michael was a spitting image of Leland, almost his twin, with the same exact face shape and everything. For the first time, it was as if he was viewing his son as a grown man, and not just a little kid.
Suddenly, he understood exactly why the young woman had been so attracted to him: Coyle looked like a seasoned version of her boyfriend. Leland was a glimpse into Michaels future, with salty locks and light facial hair. Just like Coyle, Michael would certainly age well.
"Well, I was. But Ive been callin' and no one was answerin'." Rather than becoming mad or angry, as anyone would have after being blatantly ignored, his son's gentle and soft personality was suddenly revealed. He didn't appear irritated or annoyed. Instead, Michael seemed rather sad, even a bit concerned. "I just got worried is all."
Leland was forced to physically bite his tongue; he was well aware of the reality that both him and the young woman had been avidly ignoring any incoming calls, whether that be from the Sheriff or his own son, the two would simply dismiss it. Answering the phone implied that they would be forced to return to the real world, back to the reality outside the little fantasy they had created within the confines of his home. To accept the fact that they wouldn't be able to support such a facade forever, and in all honesty, neither of them were prepared for such an emotional confrontation just yet.
In an attempt to divert his son away from possibly discovering the young woman currently concealed within the on suite bathroom, Coyle had pushed passed Michael and began to trudge towards the stairwell. He gestured for his son to accompany him with a casual wave of his hand, as if he simply wanted Michael to follow, and certainly not like he was actively hiding some sort of life altering secret only a few paces away.
"Wait-" Michael had blurted out, physically halting his father with a frantic wave of his palms, as if there was a gun currently pressed against his temple. "Wheres (Y/N)?"
His son had paused for a moment, peering down the hall towards his own bedroom, blatantly searching for any sign of his girlfriend. The door had been left wide open, due to the fact that the young woman barely spent any time within the space anymore. However, his son was unaware of such a reality at that moment. But, what both Michael and Coyle were both informed of was the fact that if she was asleep, the door had always remained shut.
The young woman never left the door even slightly ajar if she was resting, most likely due to the reality that such an act felt rather vulnerable, as if anyone could enter the room at any moment. Yet, if the door had been shut, at least she would be disrupted by the audio of someones arrival, just as she had been that very first evening, when Leland decided that adoring the young woman whilst she slept was somehow a good idea.
Therefore, Coyle had utilized such a small detail to his own advantage.
"She's outside, son. Ya must've missed her on your way in." Leland had simply exclaimed as he guided his son towards the adjacent stairwell, as if such a notion was completely reasonable.
In all honesty, such an excuse was somewhat foolish, the idea that he had accidentally failed to notice his own girlfriends presence. If she truly had been situated within the back yard, basking beneath the sun and enjoying the contents of a random novel, then Michael surely would have detected her.
However, just as previously mentioned, his son's rather emotional side often caused him to become somewhat ignorant. Whether that be in regards to his own statements (such as during that very first dinner, when Michael had been behaving rather rude towards the young woman, executing claims he had simply regarded as comical), or in response to the words of others. Especially when regarding to those he loved the most, Michael was prone to becoming extremely gullible.
With that, his son had responded with a subtle nod, completely excepting his fathers claim, failing to even slightly consider the blatant flaws within such a foolish possibility. In fact, Michael had simply assumed that he had been much too frantic upon entrance, his own stress causing him to become rather disoriented, and ultimately resulting in accidentally over looking his own girlfriends presence.
"Why haven't ya been at work?" Michael had inquired from over his shoulder whilst the pair trudged downstairs, his words possessing the same Southern drawl as his father "I was worried when you wouldn't answer the phone, so I called the station and they said you hadn't been there since Wednesday. Is everything okay?"
His son was truly a good kid, and Coyle was often proud of the fact that he had managed to raise such a respectable child, despite the reality that Leland was a single father and possessed some rather undesirable traits himself. Of course, Michael had gained some rather misogynistic and upsetting characteristics from his father, such as speaking rather impulsively, occasionally treating women as inferior, and acting rather spoiled at times. With a father like Coyle, that was to be expected. But overall, Leland had raised his son well.
His son had never been prone to anger or temper tantrums, even as a kid, he rarely screamed and cried. In fact, when he wasn't acting completely self obsessed, Michael was extremely considerate of others.
He had never been the type to disrespect his authority (other than the few occasions in which he had participated within parties, sneaking out, and failing classes throughout his high school years, but that is to be expected of teenagers). Michael had always been rather responsible and level headed, taking each of his decisions into deep consideration. In all honesty, sometimes, it was as if Michael had been the adult within their relationship, required to talk some sense into his own father whenever Leland become unreasonably upset.
Even though the two most important people within his life (his girlfriend and his father) had been actively ignoring him, Michael did not become angry or upset. In all honesty, he didn't even consider the possibility that they had been purposely avoiding him. Instead, his son simply assumed the worst, presuming that something absolutely awful had happened. And as a result, his own concern had caused him to ditch his beautiful trip to Florida, where he had no doubt been both drinking and partying, in order to check upon his loved ones.
"Everything's fine, Ive just been sick." Coyle explained, desperately attempting to cover his own tracks with the most believable excuse possible "I haven't felt too good, certainly not good enough to get up and answer the phone. And (Y/N) has been takin' care of me, so she's been busy."
As soon as the pair had successfully arrived downstairs, Michael had started to frantically glance out each of the available windows. He peered out the window situated above the kitchen sink, peeked from behind the screen door, and even glanced into the living room, actively searching for any sign of his own girlfriend.
"Yeah, she's sweet. She always takes care of me when I'm sick." He had mumbled absently whilst he surveyed the back yard, as if such a claim was no big deal.
And in all honesty, such a notion was rather insignificant. It was extremely common for a young woman to tend to her boyfriend throughout his illness. Michael was her partner after all, so of course she would make him soup, purchase medicine, and simply take care of him within general. It was completely reasonable for the young woman to nurture his son during his sickness, especially when Coyle was well aware of the reality that Michael was prone to acting rather childish whenever his stomach was even slightly upset (just like his father). In fact, he typically acted as if this was his last day upon planet Earth whenever he supported even the smallest headache.
But to Leland, such a claim wasn't that simple. In all honesty, the mere thought of the young woman tending to his son's needs was similar to a swift punch in the gut. To be informed of the fact that she was both gentle and tender with Michael, just as she had been to him, caused an intense twinge of jealousy to instantly ignite within the depths of his stomach. Obviously, Coyle was a selfish and egotistical individual, and he wanted the young woman all to himself, despite the fact that she had been in a relationship with his own son.
Additionally, the reality that the pair had possessed a rather agreeable relationship, but Leland had swiftly managed to destroy such a connection within a matter of days, had caused a wave of guilt to suddenly explode throughout his system as well. It was much easier to ignore his mistakes, the fact that he had betrayed his own son, when Michael wasn't standing only a few feet in front of him, desperately searching for the young woman as if they had been separated for years. The two had genuinely loved each other, but Coyle's own greed had caused him to ruin such a relationship, simply due to the fact that he was unable to control himself.
"She's a good kid, Michael, you did good with her." Leland had quietly mumbled, as if the reality of the entire situation had suddenly collapsed upon him like a heavy bag of bricks, all whilst his heart instantly shattered into a million little fragments.
That was it, this was truly the end. Due to the small amount of his remaining morals, Coyle would conclude his connection with the young woman from that moment onward. He would never receive the sensation of her soft hands caressing his features, she would never prepare another meal just for him ever again, and he certainly would never be rewarded with the gentle embrace of her affection. Instead, she would return to Michael, and Leland would continue his rather lonely life style. Only moments prior, the two had been completely infatuated with one another, savoring each other within the most intimate manner possible, and Leland hadn't even known that would be their final connection. He wasn't prepared, he had expected to enjoy at least three more days with her, before Michael had eventually returned. He hadn't even been able to provide the young woman with a final, emotional kiss goodbye, and he never would.
At that exact moment, like some sort of super hero arriving in order to save the day, the young woman had suddenly bound down the stairs. She was no longer nude, her hair a mess, and dark make up smeared across her features, just as she had appeared only moments prior. She wasn't even wearing simple pajamas, as Leland currently was. Instead, the young woman seemed rather rejuvenated, as if everything was completely normal, a detail in which only further aided the idea that Coyle was ill and she had been tending to him.
The young woman was supporting a rather typical outfit, as if this was just any other day and she had been dressed for a while now (not at all like she had just crawled off of her boyfriend's father's dick). She skipped down the steps wearing a pair of basic jeans, a simple t-shirt, and her hair tied into a neat pony tail. It was the exact type of outfit one would support whilst maintaining a home and tending to a sick individual: It wasn't too restricting, allowing her to properly move around, but it was also completely modest and respectful.
Despite the fact that she wasn't all dolled up, supporting a formal dress or some sort of seductive sleep attire, within Leland's mind, the young woman was absolutely gorgeous. In all honesty, he was convinced that she was completely flawless, no matter the situation. She would be beautiful within any clothing. Even if the young woman was covered within mud following some rather intense gardening, Coyle was positive that she would appear just as attractive as always. She would be pretty wearing a trash bag.
"Mikey, hey!" She had greeted him, a tender smile actively etched across her lips whilst a hint of excitement glazed her tone "Sorry. I was just upstairs getting changed. It's a lot harder to clean in a dress than you would think."
The young woman was both relaxed and comfortable, the least bit tense. Although, only moments prior, she had been fucking Michael's father like a wild animal, she appeared completely normal, as if this was just any other day. In fact, the young woman was evening joking around, giggling about her previous statement, like she wasn't even the slightest bit nervous.
All whilst Leland stood there entirely motionless, stiff as a board.
Michael had failed to properly greet the young woman with a similar introduction. He didn't laugh at her joke or provide her with his own version of an affectionate grin within return. Instead, as if the young woman had been dead or something, Michael suddenly lunged forward. He frantically collected her within his arms, embracing the young woman with a rather firm hug. Like he had been truly concerned regarding her own safety, his son compressed the young woman against his form, wrapping his arms around her torso, and burying his head into the crook of her neck. Michael was hugging her as if he had just spent three months stranded within the wilderness, and this was their proper reunion. His son embraced the young woman as if he was upon the verge of tears, covertly inhaling her scent and softly caressing her flesh.
However, she failed to provide Michael with the same desperation in return. In any other circumstance, observing his son's emotions not being reciprocated would have upset Coyle. He never wanted his child to be dismissed. Yet, as the young woman wearily hugged back, gently coiling her arms around his neck, the blatant lack of emotion had somewhat delighted Leland.
From over Michael's shoulder, the young woman gazed rather apprehensively towards Coyle, a visible hint of sorrow actively glazing her features. Her brows were furrowed and an expression of pain was clearly etched across her face. Although she had effortlessly concealed her true emotions only moments prior, appearing rather relieved as she bound down the stairs. As the young woman gazed upon Leland, her true emotions were suddenly revealed: Sadness.
Just as Coyle had become somewhat distraught regarding the fact that he would no longer be able to savor the young woman's affection, she had obviously felt the exact same way: Upset.
Only seconds prior, as the young woman had skipped down the steps and greeted his son, as if Leland had suddenly become invisible, he had worried that their previous relationship had been a complete lie. Coyle briefly wondered if their connection had been false, and the young woman had been searching for simple entertainment. Had everything he assumed, including her emotions towards him, the young woman's displayed affection, and the fact that she had been so genuinely tender with him, all been a lie? Was their connection not as serious as Leland had expected? Had he allowed his hopes to rise all over again, avidly letting himself be played like a fiddle by the young woman and her irresistible magnetic pull?
However, as she gazed towards him, silently revealing the fact that she had been just as upset as himself, all of his previous worries had suddenly vanished. No one could ever observe another human being within such a soft manner unless their emotions had been truly genuine. The young woman actively gazed upon Coyle as if she had just let the single best thing to ever happen in her life suddenly slip from her grasp.
To Leland's dismay, the embrace had failed to end there. The pair did not successfully detach from each other or properly disconnect. The two did not suddenly distance themselves from one another, as Coyle had secretly hoped. Rather, as soon as Michael had wearily removed his features from the junction of the young woman's neck, he swiftly managed to compress his lips against her own.
The kiss was not that of lust or desire, the type of insignificant connection two people would share during a meaningless fling. It wasn't a simple smooch executed out of requirement, as most couples often behave. Instead, as his son pressed his lips against her own, the embrace was passionate, intense, and emotional. His son visibly reveled within the warmth of the young woman's embrace, as if her simple presence had successfully calmed his spiraling thoughts, a sensation Leland was all too familiar with. It was the kiss of two people who were utterly in love.
Well, upon Michael's end that is.
In comparison, the young woman appeared rather shocked, as if she was completely unsure how to properly respond. Her hands had remained hovering above his shoulders, form physically drifting away, and her vision wide. She did not return the same sort of affection and passion as his son, the young woman had failed to kiss him with the same amount of intensity as Michael had. Instead, she became physically apprehensive, allowing Michael to kiss her, but not exactly rewarding him with the same type of emotion. At least, not in the same manner in which she would kiss Leland, with passion, desire, and desperation.
After a few months, Michael had finally pulled away, rapid breathing slightly faltering as he softly compressed his forehead against her own. His vision had flickered shut, a wave of reassurance suddenly engulfing his form as he visibly relaxed within the young woman's embrace. A soft smirk had slowly quivered across his lips, chuckling lightly beneath his breath as if he was unable to successfully contain his overwhelming joy within that exact moment.
"God, I was so worried about ya." He had whispered, possessively holding the young woman within his palms, as if he was too afraid to properly let go, or else she might disappear all over again.
In response, she had rewarded Michael with a rather awkward giggle, vision flickering nervously within Lelands direction, as if she was silently begging for help. Her dainty hands became hesitant upon forearms, like she was quite sure where to properly hold him, obviously attempting to avoid his rather intimate embrace within general. The young woman depicted that of a trapped animal within his son's arms, her form physically revolting against his own, like she was desperate to escape.
"Whys that?" She inquired nervously, wide irises glancing anywhere but his own.
Michael smiled fondly in response, further cuddling against her figure, an action in which caused the young woman to suddenly flinch as a result.
"Ya wouldn't answer the phone, I just got worried somethin' bad happened." He chuckled, as if his previous actions were perceived as somewhat extreme now that he had been provided with proper answers. Like the fact that he had literally drove all the way from Florida to Oklahoma, simply because he was worried, was rather outrageous.
The young woman giggled softly in response, aware of just how insane such behaviors had truly been. She hesitantly stepped away from Michael's embrace, properly distancing herself from his desperation. Such a gesture could be perceived as normal, with his son simply assuming that the young woman had become nervous in response to his rather affectionate display, in front of his own father at that. Yet, Leland was well aware of the young woman's true desires with the execution of such an awkward response: She was attempting to physically distance herself, suddenly rather disgusted by Michael's affection now that she had obtained a taste of the real thing (his father).
"Well, here I am." She had remarked, a soft smile trembling upon her lips as she stood rather nervously before him.
Silently, Michael had observed her, his tender vision quietly adoring the young woman within a rather fond manner. His irises graced her figure, admiring her rather favorable features, such as: Her soft smile, dainty form, and rather inviting presence. Yet, his blatant staring hadn't been executed in response to some sort of lust, as if he was viewing the young woman with his own version of primal need. Instead, a rather affectionate expression had adorned his features, a countenance of genuine love, observing the young woman as if she was a warm light glowing amidst the darkness of a cold winter.
The reality that his son was allowed to adore the young woman within such a blatant manner caused an intense sensation of jealousy to successfully infiltrate Leland's system all over again. He yearned for nothing more than to admire her within the same exact manner: Both open and freely. He wanted to kiss, hug, and embrace the young woman with such intense passion, without receiving any form of judgement from another individual. In all honesty, Coyle considered stepping forward and slapping the youthful expression of affection straight from his own son's features. The young woman belonged to him, not anyone else. Wasn't Michael aware of such a reality?
"Yeah, here ya are." Michael had muttered quietly, as if he was suddenly captivated by his own emotions within that moment, much too hypnotized by his affection towards the young woman to successfully speak any louder than a slight whisper.
Utilizing the brief moment of silence as some sort of opportunity, the young woman had slowly backed towards the kitchen, like Michael was a rabid dog that might attack at any moment. She had crept backwards until she was properly leaning against the edge of the counter, relaxing within the most normal way she would possibly manage, and not at all like she was extremely uncomfortable.
"S-So, whats the plan now? We going back to the school?" The young woman had nervously inquired, awkwardly clearing her throat in an attempt to snap Michael out of whatever trance he was obviously captured within.
By now, his son had seemingly calmed, no longer overwhelmed by an extreme amount of concern, causing him to act rather erratically.
"Actually, I was thinkin' we could stay for the last two days before we head back to the school on Sunday? We both took the week off of work, it could be nice just to hang out and not have to worry about school or work. I can show ya around town." He had offered with a wide grin, shrugging his shoulders as if the entire situation was completely normal, like he hadn't just transformed into some sort of needy creature wrapped around the young woman's form only moments prior.
The young woman had wearily glanced towards Leland, desperately searching for some sort of assistance. Obviously, she did not desire to spend three more days cooped up within the house, required to accompany Michael, when she yearned for nothing more than to crawl back to Coyle. Being forced to interact with Leland as if their previous connection had never once existed would be comparable to that of torture for the young woman, and she was unsure if she could properly distance herself from him for that long, especially when he would be only a few yard down the hall each night.
Yet, there would be no reasonable explanation if she had denied such a request. If the young woman had rejected his offer, then Micael would surely become confused, wondering why she would want to return to the school, when they could simply do whatever they wanted all day at his childhood home. And Leland somehow exclaiming his disagreement would only further incriminate the two of them.
So, the young woman had agreed.
"O-Okay." She had responded, stuttering absently through her trembling voice.
Obviously, such a notion was extremely upsetting for the young woman, spending the next few days required to act completely normal, expected to become affectionate with Michael, even though she had just got done fucking his literal father only a few minutes prior. It would certainly be awkward, and even somewhat depressing, being forced to ignore Leland as if she hadn't become extremely infatuated with him during a matter of days. In all honesty, she yearned for nothing more than to alter her entire life, just to spend even a few more moments with Coyle. But, what was she supposed to say? The young woman was unable to successfully reject such an offer without accidentally becoming suspicious as a result.
"Unless ya don't wanna." Michael had declared, quirking a rather confused brow within her direction, immediately aware of the audible apprehension laced within her tone.
In an attempt to successfully preserve such a massive secret, the young woman had persisted.
"No, no, I do. That sounds nice, Mikey." She had finally responded with a tender smile "Could be nice to just relax for a bit."
With that, his son had expressed his overwhelming excitement through the usage of a wide grin, clapping the young woman rather harshly upon the back as he began to practically vibrate with glee.
"Theres my girl." He had exclaimed, pressing a soft kiss against her exposed check.
A heavy pit of dread had suddenly formed within the young woman's stomach, as if she was upon the verge of becoming ill. The sound of someone regarding her as 'my girl,' an individual who wasn't Leland, caused her insides to churn with disgust.
The following days were absolute Hell for Coyle.
Suddenly, his entire existence felt both empty and cold. The young woman was no longer situated within his bed each night, cuddling against his form and causing that familiar warmth to engulf his chest. Each of his evenings were spent both alone and solitary, silently observing a random Western movie whilst he lit cigarette after cigarette, consuming beer as if it was the air he required to survive, lacking any sign of the young woman's presence. She failed to prepare him dinner each afternoon, dancing and twirling through the kitchen with nothing put the modesty provided by a lacy bra and a small pair of underwear. It was as if someone had suddenly carved out his heart, replacing it with an empty hole.
As the young woman slept only a few yards down the hall, in his own son's bed, most likely cuddling against Michael's form, Leland was forced to refrain from marching down the hall and obtaining exactly what was rightfully his: Her.
Each morning, Michael and the young woman would rise around ten. They would shower and prepare before eventually exiting the home, typically failing to return until ten that evening. Leland wasn't exactly aware of what they were doing, possibly visiting his son's high school friends or viewing a film. He imagined they were most likely participating within lunch together or shopping at nearby stores. The pair were bonding within the same exact manner Coyle yearned to connect with the young woman: Through the ability to spend every waking moment together. Yet, he would never allow himself to consider any of the other rather inappropriate, and extremely upsetting, acts that the two were possibly participating within.
Due to the reality that Leland had already called out of work, claiming that he was sick and would fail to return until Monday, he was practically forced to remain home alone all day, stewing within his own anger as he contemplated exactly what his son was doing with the young woman.
Leland occupied each passing hour with Western films, a large amount of alcohol, or relaxing within the back yard. He would simply smoke and nap all day, searching for any form of entertainment, something to occupy each grueling second. Yet, nothing helped him successfully forget about the young woman. From the cigarettes he smoked, to the lousy meals he would cook, everything had reminded him of her. Coyle mourned the sensation of her figure situated upon his lap during every occasion in which he would locate himself within his beloved arm chair. He reminisced upon the delicious meals she prepared for him, the moments in which they had spent simply chatting amongst each other whilst they ate. But most of all, he missed the sound of her moans whenever he finally collapsed upon his bed, a bed that suddenly felt much bigger than usual. Christ, he even found himself cumming into his own palm after he had accidentally discovered one of the young woman's forgotten shirts abandoned beneath his bed. In all honesty, Leland had shamefully buried his features against the fabric whilst he desperately inhaled what remained of her scent, frantically stroking his aching cock until her simple smell of lavender mixed with vanilla had caused him to ultimately orgasm.
After Michael's unexpected return, it wasn't until early Sunday morning when the two had finally shared a proper conversation.
Saturday evening, Coyle had struggled to successfully fall asleep. He was much too focused upon the task of monitoring each sound, perceiving every subtle noise, and contemplating even the slightest audio. The upsetting idea of exactly what was occurring between Michael and the young woman, only a few paces down the hall, had driven him practically insane. Leland had occupied the entire night simply staring absently towards the ceiling, counting each chip within the paint, memorizing all of the marks, and surveying every scratch within the plaster, all whilst he waited patiently for even the smallest noise, any acceptable reason for him bound from bed, march down the hall, and retrieve what was rightfully his.
During the rare occasion in which he had managed to properly drift to sleep, even for a just a brief moment, such relaxation would soon be interrupted. Memories of the young woman haunted each of his thoughts, both conscious and unconscious, like some sort of persistent ghost. The phantom sensation of her figure cuddled against his own, legs wrapped around his waist, fingers absently caressing his features, would cause Coyle to instantly flinch awake.
Eventually, he had surrendered. Obviously, he would not receive any proper rest that evening, due to the reality that he was seemingly the least bit tired. So, around six, he had finally admitted defeat and stumbled wearily from bed. Supporting nothing but the modesty provided by a pair of random pajama pants, Leland had ventured outside. He promptly situated himself upon one of the available lawn chairs, exhausted vision both blurred and foggy, and successfully ignited a cigarette.
The morning was both calm and rather relaxing, greatly contrasting his rather lousy mood. Leland felt like absolute dog shit, but his surrounding environment was similar to the scenery retrieved straight from the pages of a beautiful novel: The sun was warm and rather dull, not yet reaching its maximum intensity. The mist of dawn was scattered across the lawn, the temperature not too hot but also not freezing either. The rest of the world had failed to properly awake just yet, the atmosphere completely silent and rather peaceful, just the way Coyle favored. Prior to the audio of young children playing or a variety of lawn equipment revving to life throughout the neighborhood. He had always preferred waking early, finally allowed to enjoy the tranquility of the Earth before the rest of humanity had risen, simply in order to seemingly torment him.
For two hours, Leland had remained completely still, almost depicting that of a stone statue. He failed to shift within his seat or return to his respected bedroom. Instead, he became somewhat hypnotized by the melodic tune of morning birds. Coyle had allowed his head to rest rather comfortably against the edge of the chair, his vision flickering shut whilst he simply consumed his rather tranquil surroundings. He enjoyed the small amount of both satisfaction and relaxation provided by various cigarettes, his muscles loosening with each inhale of smoke. Well, until the young woman had suddenly appeared around eight that is.
She was completely alone, due to the fact that it was rather early, much earlier than Michael would ever even consider awakening upon his own accord. And Leland was aware of such a reality. Yet, he had remained rather tense, almost ridged as the young woman quietly approached. Just incase his son had decided to rise earlier than ten for once, Coyle had refrained from properly expressing his true emotions towards the young woman. Instead, he maintained somewhat of an appropriate relationship between himself and his own son's girlfriend, interacting with her just like any other sane father would have: Both polite and respectful, but not too friendly either.
"Hey." She had greeted, her voice rather quiet and somewhat flat as she wearily traipsed around the edge of the lawn chair.
She had failed to properly stand in front of Leland. The young woman did not position herself before his feet, connecting their vision as she loomed above him. Instead, she had decided to situate herself directly beside his figure, standing quietly to his left. Although she was a few feet away, certainly not connecting their figures within any sort of manner, she had still been situated close enough to tease the bounds of inappropriate.
In all honesty, as the young woman had swayed silently beside him, Coyle yearned for nothing more than to covertly peer within her direction. He desired to observe the her beautiful features, memorize the subtle slope of her nose, perceive her soft skin, and engrave her glimmering irises within his memory, for what would most likely be the last time in a very long while. Yet, he had ultimately refrained, physically forcing his vision to remain entirely focused upon the desolate lawn displayed before him.
Leland had failed to respond with a similar greeting, he did not provide her with a proper remark. Instead, after a few moments of rather tense silence, the young woman had reached absently towards the cigarette currently present between Coyle's fingers, similar to some sort of quiet peace offering. She did not request a hit or properly ask for a turn. Rather, as if the two had accidentally fallen back into their old routine, sharing the cigarette as if it was simple muscle memory, the young woman had quietly gestured for the smoke.
The proper response would be to reject such a request. Any other parent certainly would not have shared a cigarette with their child's partner. However, as if he was chasing some sort of comfort, searching desperately for any form of semblance of their previous time spent together, a fleeting moment Coyle could savor for the rest of eternity, he had actually allowed her to take it.
After encountering no sign of objection, the young woman had accepted his silence as some sort of agreement. She had swiftly pinched the base between her fingers, carefully retrieving the cigarette from his grasp before guiding it towards her own mouth.
And thats the exact moment in which Leland had finally broke.
As if he had suddenly lost all form of self control, his vision had strayed away from the lawn before him. Coyle secretly peered towards the young woman from his peripheral vision, silently observing whilst she wrapped her lips around the filter. It was as if time had suddenly stood still as the young woman gracefully inhaled, briefly confining the smoke within her lungs, before ultimately releasing it from her mouth, exactly as he had previously taught her.
A fond smile had slightly quivered across his lips for a few moments, the image causing his heart to flutter and an intense warmth to successfully engulf his chest. However, such a physical reaction had not been the result of lust or desire. No. Instead, his rather infatuated response had been due to his overwhelming affection towards the young woman, enamored by the fact that she had remembered. Even if the pair had never spoke again, Leland would be comforted by the reality that he had actually taught her something. Sure, it wasn't something exactly beneficial, but it was something none the less. In all honesty, upon every occasion in which the young woman had successfully lit a cigarette and promptly enjoyed the resulting effects within the future, Coyle had hoped she would think of him.
"Shouldn't ya be with Michael? He might get suspicious, us bein' together like this." Leland had muttered, attempting to dismiss his own emotions of affection with the usage of both anger and irritation.
Of course, Coyle was upset. In fact, upset was a drastic understatement. In all honesty, he was enraged, furious, and extremely angry. Throughout the last few days, it was as if frustration was seemingly the only emotion he could properly perceive. He was irritated that Michael had stolen the one thing he had truly enjoyed, the singular notion within his life that had provided him with even a brief sense of happiness. Leland was jealous of the time the two were allowed to spend together, permitted to purchase dinner, go to movies, and simply savor each other's company, lacking any form of scrutiny from the general public. But most of all, Coyle had missed the young woman. He mourned her companionship, whether that be within the bedroom or whilst simply watching a Western film together. He just missed her.
However, Leland wasn't exactly familiar with such emotions. He had never been the type to become emotionally attached to another individual, especially with anyone other than his own son. Christ, he had literally murdered Michael's mother, his own girlfriend, and he had barely encountered any form of grief.
Yet, what Coyle was accustomed to was anger. Fury wasn't embarrassing, such as sadness was. Despair was regarded as weak, feminine, and fragile within his mind. However, rage was strong, manly, and powerful. And as a result, such sorrow had quickly transformed into rage, an emotion Leland was prone to dealing with. A sensation he was comfortable with, one he had even somewhat enjoyed. A familiar mask he could easily hide behind.
"He's asleep." She had simply responded, consuming a few more inhales before ultimately returning the cigarette to Coyle.
Whilst he reached for the smoke, clutching it between his fingers and properly retrieving the cigarette, it was silent once more. Only the sound of distant morning birds acted as some sort of background audio as the two remained entirely mute.
Yet, the young woman had failed to surrender. Weren't the hints obvious?
"Im leaving today." She added, her soft voice successfully piercing the desolate silence all over again.
As if he was attempting to somehow calm himself, desperate to properly relax his nerves, Leland inhaled another gulp of smoke, the nicotine briefly easing his stress. However, such anxiety was soon revived after only a few seconds, once he was required to properly respond again.
"I know." He muttered, voice both distant and detached as he gazed absently towards the cigarette situated between his fingers, as if the billowing smoke was the most interesting sight he had ever once observed.
It became quiet once more, a brief lull within the conversation occurring as Leland remained completely unresponsive. The two were currently positioned beside one another as if they were a pair of complete strangers who just happened to be seated together upon the buss. Like they hadn't just shared an extremely intimate connection only a few days prior.
"Im gonna miss you." The young woman whispered, her voice faltering as if this was her final plea, screaming out into the vast universe, only to be ultimately ignored.
Her confession had been raw, genuine, and sincere. The young woman was risking her entire relationship with Michael by expressing such a honest claim. Her voice had trembled whilst she spoke, and Coyle certainly wasn't ignorant to the audio of her trembling inhales, signifying the reality that she was currently upon the verge of tears. The young woman was completely vulnerable within that exact moment, desperately searching for even the slightest form of reassurance.
Yet, Leland had ultimately failed to respond. He did not admit the truth, confirming the fact that he was going to miss her as well. In all honesty, he would probably mourn the young woman's companionship even more. Within the young woman's mind, maybe their connection had just been some sort of mistake, a brief fling that she would surely forget as soon as she returned to college. She was young after all, possessing her entire life ahead of her. But to Coyle, their relationship would haunt him for the remainder of his life. The memory of the young woman would plague his thoughts each time he retrieved a new cigarette from the carton. Allowing her to slip from his grasp would be his biggest regret. Yet, it had to be done.
"Don't do this to me, Le-" The young woman had began to exclaim in response to his rather rude silence.
However, Coyle was quick to interrupt.
"Don't do what? Yer my sons girlfriend, (Y/N). Christ, I shouldn't be sittin' out here with ya in the first place." He huffed, frustration audibly lacing his rather vexed words.
The young woman released an irritated sigh, the same exact annoyed exhale a stern mother would utilize in response to her child's relentless begging after she had denied them a toy. And although Coyle wasn't currently observing her features, his vision practically glued upon the lawn displayed before him, he could basically hear the rather dramatic eye roll that accompanied her frustrated huff.
"You know what I mean, smart ass. Don't be a dick. Stop fucking ignoring me and talk to me like a man." She demanded.
Suddenly, like a swift flash of lightening, her fierceness had returned, the same exact assertiveness the young woman had utilized the day in which Leland had returned from work, both angry and enraged, regarding his immature behaviors. The same dominance that had caused Coyle to fall even further for her, the only woman who had been confident enough to successfully confront him. She had been the singular person who could properly shut Leland up, and she had done it just then.
He was aware of the reality that the young woman would fail to simply surrender to his anger. Unlike anyone else within his life, she wasn't easily frightened by him. The young woman failed to simply submit to his intimidation tactics. Instead, his torment would only further encourage her, each holler and every yell increasingly motivating her own rage.
Therefore, his lips had swiftly sealed, passively allowing the young woman to continue, despite the fact that his mind was basically yelling at him to battle for dominance.
"Please... Just tell me what to do." She whispered, her voice trembling as she spoke.
As just as quickly as it had arrived, her rage had swiftly vanished. Just like Coyle, the young woman knew exactly when to utilize such emotions, just within a very different manner. She did not become angry simply in an attempt to torment others, as Leland did. Instead, the young woman utilized such rage in order to successfully defend herself, properly confronting those who had even slightly offended her. However, as soon as the situation had been properly deescalated, such frustration would swiftly vanish. The young woman was aware of the reality that anger rarely solved problems. Yet, it did preserve her own dignity.
It sounded as if she was currently upon the verge of tears, her words quivering and tone quiet. She was pleading with him, begging Coyle to allow her to stay, covertly revealing the fact that she desired nothing more than to be with him. That she would alter her entire life, fail to return to work and stop pursuing her education, simply to remain by Leland's side.
A wave of confusion had suddenly crashed down upon Coyle. Ever since Michael had returned, other than that brief falter during his initial arrival, the young woman had appeared somewhat happy. Each night, the pair would return home supporting a set of matching grins, as if they had just experienced the best day of their lives, a display that had managed to only further upset Leland. He was aware of the reality that the young woman had been rather talented within the task of supporting a facade of joy, pretending to be content in order to please others. Yet, in regards to Michael, she had appeared genuinely happy, like she had completely forgot about that she had just spent the last two days becoming intimate with his literal father.
However, as the young woman stood beside him, her voice trembling and breathing becoming rapid, a crack had suddenly formed within her little charade, revealing her true emotions. The sensations she had worked so hard to properly conceal.
"Tell me what to do, and I'll do it." The young woman continued, pleading through a quiet, quivering voice, as if she was unable to speak any louder than a dull murmur.
As much as it broke his heart to perceive the presence of her sorrow, along with the reality that Leland desired nothing more than to collect the young woman within his arms and properly reassure her, he was aware of exactly what he had to do. Not for himself, but for the sake of both his son and their relationship.
"Ya know I cant do that." Coyle stated, voice a lot more firm and steady compared to her own.
His rather assertive countenance was comparable to that of a swift slap across the face. The young woman had been both stuttering and trembling, her own sorrow obtaining the best of her. Typically, she was both confident and assured, never allowing the actions of other to properly effect her. Yet, here Leland was, the epitome of composed, talking with her as if she was just a stupid kid.
She had paused for a moment, her breath hitching as if she was completely shocked. In all honesty, the young woman was well aware of Coyle's mental state, perceiving the manner in which his mood had swiftly altered as soon as Michael had returned. He would spend every moment both silent and detached, his physical appearance drastically deteriorating in response to such sorrow. And due to such a reality, she had actually expected him to instantly take her back, to rescue her just as he had done many times before. To save her from such pain.
Yet, he didn't. Instead, Leland had remained both cold and distant, regarding her as if she was the dirt upon the bottom of his shoe: Total scum.
"Please, Leland. Just tell me to stay and I'll stay." She had further pleaded.
But he had made up his mind.
"Go back upstairs, (Y/N)." He had demanded, voice both cold and firm, lacking any sign of his previous tenderness towards the young woman. In fact, he spoke to her like she was just a child, commanding her within the same manner her own father would instruct her to go to her room following a dramatic temper tantrum.
Suddenly, she had been revived back to reality; the young woman swiftly perceived the fact that she was acting like a total baby, both begging and pleading with this grown ass man to practically run away with her, to live together within some sort of fantasy world where nothing else mattered. And the fact that Coyle was much more composed compared to herself (a rather rare occurrence) was even more upsetting. In fact, he didn't even possess the dignity to properly look at her.
"Fine." The young woman had exclaimed, her voice no longer quiet and now much more firm.
The young woman swiftly shifted upon her heels, storming towards the porch once more, disappearing from his peripheral vision as she exited within a fit of immature rage. She was practically stomping her feet and huffing whilst she marched.
However, during some sort of moment of weakness, the young woman had suddenly paused, shifting back towards Leland's direction. She had expected him to be secretly observing her from over his shoulder, just as he had done each night in which she prepared him dinner. Yet, instead, she soon discovered that Coyle had remained entirely motionless, continuing to gaze absently towards the lawn, facing within the complete opposite direction.
"So thats it then, huh? I'll just go back to school and you'll stay here? Like none of this ever happened? We wont see each other for months, maybe even years, until I marry your fucking son?" She spat, relying entirely upon anger in an attempt to receive any sort of reaction from him. Hell, anything would be better than such blatant avoidance.
For once, the young woman was frustrated. After a week of attempting to break her, desperate to offend her with his words, anything to effect her just as much as she had effected him, all it took was just a little silence? Leland had remained quiet, forcing himself to focus upon the expanse of the lawn in front of him, refraining from even briefly glancing towards the young woman, no matter how much he truly desired to. Because he knew the second he perceived the expression of complete sorrow currently plastered across her features, there would be no return.
After a moment of silence, as if their entire history had suddenly been erased, like the two of them were just completely strangers once more, restarting entirely from the beginning all over again, the young woman had released a broken sigh of defeat.
"Goodbye, Mr. Coyle."
And the young woman had been correct: The two had failed to successfully interact again for years. However, their eventual reunion was not during a wedding or some kind of family gathering. Instead, the pair had finally reconnected once more as soon as the young woman had ventured through the Murkoff brand shuttle doors, instructed to simply "Kill the Snitch."
