Ashes
The merriest of merry Christmasses to the Queen of Angst, the Empress of Smut, the Monarch of Sending-A-Chill-Down-My-Spine While-Chuckling-To Herself.
@whatwouldvalerydo, thank you so much for this year of friendship, inspiration, and kicking my butt when I needed it. Thank you for being there when I need a shoulder to lean on, and thank you for letting me be your shoulder as well. Your friendship is something so special to me, and I cannot wait to hug you as high as my little arms can reach and have you drink me under the table without so much as trying next year.
Crăciun Fericit! 🎄👑
A/N: Talia Crane belongs to my wonderful @whatwouldvalerydo Akira Crane belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier Warning: Smoking, world weariness, Takira
Christmas has drawn a glittering veil across the city. Everywhere I look as I make my way through the crowded streets there are lights - in the trees, on the buildings, the lampposts, mounted above the shops and streets.
It makes for pretty pictures, all these lights, almost enough to distract from the other things Christmas has brought. The stress, the hectic looks, the way people elbow each other aside to get the best pick of the presents, the last mug of willed wine, the warm spot close to a heating vent. Love your next as long as it doesn't hurt your own comfort.
Merry fucking Christmas, indeed.
There's other things I see, too. Things that make me angry, but not in the same way. I see the tired faces of men leaving work after an extra shift, the sad eyes of children in hand-me-down clothes reflected in the storefronts they stare into, the desperate looks of the women furtively checking if - after honouring consumerism - there's still enough cash in their purses to buy their families a proper meal.
Once upon a time, I would have taken pity on them. That time has long since passed.
I glide through the crowd like a shadow. I'm among them but not a part of them, haven't been for a long time. I have always felt different from the rest, but never more so than at Christmas.
All the world coming together to play happy family for a day?
I spit.
I'd rather claw my eyes out.
I breathe a little lighter when I leave the road and move toward the riverfront. The air is cooler here, the wind harsh and biting. I put the collar of my coat up against its icy fingers reaching for my throat. I hate the cold, but the stifling crowds, with their bought cheer and plastic dreams, I hate even more.
My thoughts linger on the job I just finished. I try to put the grimy hands and sickly sweet words of the last hour behind me, but it's hard. It's getting harder by the day. It will be only a matter of time before matters will become serious again, and for once, I cannot wait for it. I can't wait for the feeling of cleansing, being reborn, of ridding the world of one more abomination and everything I have to do to make it so.
And for the self-hate, the disgust, the hours spent beneath a scalding hot shower. For that, too. I suppose burning with the fire of regret is better than burning in hell, if a place like that even exists.
Not like I would know. Or care.
My eyes find the spot glowing in the dark, close to the quay wall and the stinking river below. The lights from the city have disappeared, nothing left but the darkness and the cigarette hovering within it. The fire flares as it is pulled upon. It's too dark to see the smoke that comes with it, but that's just him - a fire in the pitch-black night. He leaves no trace, no ashes. He burns, and then he's gone.
"Akira," I say as I make my way towards the glowing point of light. It flares once more.
"Talia," comes the whisper from the shadows. Dark, almond-shaped eyes are illuminated for a moment. Then, everything is black again.
"What are you doing here?"
I ask this as if I didn't already know. As if I haven’t come this way knowing he would be here, like he always is.
"How was your date?"
I try not to shiver. I'm cold, not afraid, but you don't take chances with a man like him. He's like a panther in the dark - lithe, deadly, invisible. You don't cross paths with a panther on the hunt.
Unless you're an even better huntress.
"Why do you care, Akira? My business is none of yours."
"Everything that happens here is my business."
Again, the flare, his black, illuminated eyes. I feel a heat coursing through me that makes my heart beat faster. My blood is boiling.
"Not me. I don't belong to you. I belong to no one."
"And yet you sell yourself away."
"Because I choose to do so."
"Do you?"
His voice is soft, sharpened steel clad in velvet. He draws you in, gets what he has come for, and then leaves you bleeding. But I know how to blunt his blade. It's the reason he keeps coming back to me.
I hold out my hand. Another flare reveals black eyes fixed on me. The tip of the cigarette moves. It leaves an image in the darkness, the shadows set on fire for the briefest of moments.
I don't thank him as he hands me the cigarette, just bring it to my lips and take a drag. It tastes of him, of rich whiskey and smoke and a hint of copper. I inhale deeply, feeling the warmth relax my muscles, and blow the smoke towards the starless sky. The wind carries the ashes toward the river. I watch after them, but in less than a second, they are swallowed by the night.
"What do you want from me, Akira?"
"I want you to leave."
A cold, sharp laugh. "As if it were that easy."
"It is. One word and you are free."
"You don't have the power to do that."
"I have the power to do anything I want."
I flick the cigarette away. The tip leaves a gleaming arc in the air before the murky waters of the river extinguish it.
"You have no power over me."
"I have power over those you love."
Fury flares in me, hotter than the cigarette has been, more scorching than the brightest fire could ever hope to burn.
"Stay away from what's not yours. Do not meddle with my affairs."
"She is selling you for secrets."
"I am committed to her cause. You will do her no harm."
I step closer to him, his outline forming from the darkness. I can feel his eyes on me, observing my every move. The hunter and the prey. But he is mistaken. He has forgotten.
Talia Crane never is the prey.
My words form a silver cloud before my mouth as I whisper my promise to him.
"Touch my friends, and I will end you."
We stare at each other, one long moment, one short eternity. Darkness and shadow, fire and fury. Then, he gives the tiniest incline of his head. The panther has receded. For now.
I reach for the breast pocket of his coat without breaking eye contact. My fingers close around the sleek black cigarette case inside. I take another out and light it, but it's not as good as the first. It's missing his taste.
"One piece of advice, Akira," I say as I blow the smoke his way. "Don't mess with things beyond your power. You might find you'll burn yourself."
Akira moves like liquid shadow. One moment he is one with the night; the other, he is right there, so close to me that I can hear the beating of his ice-cold heart.
"You don't understand," he says as he plucks the cigarette from my lips. "For you, I'd burn the world to ashes."
