Homecoming [powered_otaku]

[sweetsalome]

    He had silently entered his own house the night before, when no one was there to greet him, to make a fuss over him.  Standing in the front foyer, he looked around slowly, not a thing out of place, the great walls and ceiling as silent as a tomb.  Like a giant cat he had stalked through the house, making sure everything was as it should be.  A massive shadow, gliding over chairs and carpets, all seeing, all knowing.  The shadow beast settled himself in one of the massive high back chairs in the living room, glass of scotch in hand he listened, he waited.  He waited a long time before this, there was nothing wrong with waiting a little more.

   

    Salome thought she had been wrong.  Maybe he wasn't coming home that day, or maybe he had just decided that it wasn't worth it and just left town.  Maybe Santa was real and this year she would finally get that pony she always wanted for Christmas. 

There's nothing wrong with being wrong, just expect the consequences of not being right.

He called her into his office, summoned her, as if some sort of employee, if she was nothing but a serf on his estate.  She sat in one of the big high backed chairs across from his desk, the one with the slippery leather that squeaked every time she moved or shifted.  Palms wet, heart racing, two works away from a panic attack as he fixed her with those eyes of his, eyes she had only seen from behind the safety of bullet proof glass.  There was a high likelihood that she was going to either die or throw up on his Persian rug.

She did neither.

He spoke to her softly, asking how she had been, how Jonba was and how her summer had gone at her grandparents.  The more they talked, the more she relaxed, until she was left only slightly weary, her palms now dry.  Maybe she had made a mistake, there was no threat here, just a man she had missed while he had been gone.  Someone who had changed when no one thought he could.

He asked her for a hug.

Standing up, she walked to him and lent forward to give him a gentle hug around his shoulders.  For a moment that was enough, but when she started to pull away, he grabbed her by the hips and yanked her down into his lap.  Despite the struggle, despite the fight she didn't do any damage, except smack her foot against the desk drawers.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me two hundred times. . . Maybe I might be asking for it.

    "I heard you've been bad," he whispers into her ear, hand at the back of her neck, holding her still like some wild animal.

    "I heard that you've been telling lies about me," his fingers tightened, applying more pressure.

    "I even heard you found a play thing, and he believes you.  How long do you think that's going to last?"  With his free hand, he reaches for the ring on her left hand and twirls the band around slowly.

    "How long before he gets tired of you?  Before you come crying back to me because he doesn't love you any more. . ."  He stands up with her and starts to move to the door, dragging her along as she struggles in his grip.

She doesn't fight as hard as she could have, she knows that if she did it would hurt, a lot.  She doesn't want to get hurt, she doesn't have the defenses for it any more.  This needs to be over, this pain, this humiliation, this feeling of being so filthy and disgusting that she can't even look at herself in the mirror.  Somewhere, between the study and the bedroom, she takes over, and mercifully, Salome doesn't feel a thing.

She picks up the phone and she sends the text message after a shower.  There is no need to delay the inevitable any longer.

Comments

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

As soon as one sheet is filled, she sets it aside and gives him another one. "Okay, you got me, I just wanted to watch you cut up cookies. Have you thought about what you would like for lunch?"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"We have sandwich makings. There's also soup in cans if you want soup instead." He cuts off more cookies for the sheet.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I would like soup, please." Once the cookies are finally all cut up, she opens the oven and carefully puts the trays in the oven. Shutting the door, she turns around and then looks confused for a moment, "wait, what?"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"What kind of soup do you want?" When she asks her question, he looks a little confused. "We have tomato, chicken noodle, some beef soups and vegetable soup. Maybe you want a sandwich and soup?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Soup?" She slowly nods at the question before moving to him and putting her head on his shoulder. "Chicken noodle sounds like a really good idea."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

He kisses her hair. "Chicken noodle it is." Still with an arm around her, he gets one of the cans of chicken soup down, pulls the tab and dumps it into a microwave container. He puts it in the microwave, sets it for a couple of minutes, then puts his arms around her while it cooks.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Chicken noodle! What sounds do chickens make?" Her arms go around him and she sways with him, dancing with him around the kitchen, humming to their dance.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro makes clucking noises. "I learned those when we went to the county fair. I had never seen live chickens in person before." He dances with her, dancing them over to the microwave when it dings. He springs the door open, then shuts it to let it sit.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Never? Awh man, even I've seen one of those! When did you go to the county fair?" She moves with him, still humming, before looking up and grinning at him. "Can we take dancing lessons for our wedding?"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"When I was in Texas. The whole staff went because we knew we would get no business that day. It was a lot of fun." He dances them over to the shelves to get a bowl for her soup. "That sounds like a good idea. I do not know any of the real dances."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"That does sound like lots of fun! I like county fairs and eating junk food." She keeps herself on her toes so she does trip over his feet, or her own. Reaching behind them, she takes out the spoons from the drawer. "Then we can do that, learn a whole bunch of waltzes and various stuff."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"That would be fun. We could do a sexy tango." He pours her soup into a bowl and dances them slowly over to the breakfast bar where there's a chair for her to sit. He dances over to the shelves, reaching for one of the vegetable soups.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"During our wedding reception?" She laughs before sitting down in the chair and props her head up on the palm of her hand watching him. "That would be something, I could wear this skimpy little white number, and you could slick your hair back."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"And the rose. We must have a rose. Perhaps we should make it the last dance so we can tango right out of the door." He pours his soup into the same microwave bowl and puts it into the microwave. When it dings, he grabs a spoon and carries it over to the breakfast bar, blowing on it.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"You would be sexy with a rose in your mouth," grinning she picked up her spoon and stirred the noodles around. Transfixed by the way the noodles moved with the chicken. Carefully she scooped up the veggies, eating them first, before eating the noodle and chicken.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Should we take the thorns off it first?" He blows a little on the soup and begins spooning it up, not paying any attention to what he's shovelling in.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I think they make thorn-less roses. Just for that type of situation." Putting her spoon down, she smiles but continues to look at her soup. "I've never tangoed before."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"But it may not be as fun." He finishes off his soup. "I have never tangoed either. Or waltzed."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I think waltzing is easier, it's just 1-2-3, 1-2-3, you kind of move in a square." Looking up, she put her hand over his. "I will be fun."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"You are confined to a small space?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

She jerks her head up suddenly and frowns. "What, no! It's in a big room, it's just that you tend to keep to your certain area. If you're starting out."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Are you ok? Do you need to sleep more?" He takes his own bowl to the sink and looks at her still partly filled one. He gently brushes her hair from her face. "We can put that away for later if you would like."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Shaking her head she looks up at him and then smiles a little bit. "Can we go out and . . . Fuck!" She moves away from him suddenly and grabs the oven mitt right before the buzzer goes off. "What good timing! Taking the trays from the oven she puts them on the top of the stove."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

And the cookies aren't even slightly burned! "Go out where?" He's looking at the cookies. "The cookies need to cool anyway." He takes the spatula and starts putting them on the cooling racks.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I was going to say go out in the living room, cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Sorry, I got . . . distracted." Frowning, she actually blushes as she watches him scoop off the cookies. "Sometimes I wonder where my head is at."