Resistance (Part 1)

 Fenton rapped the heavy metal knocker against the thick wood of the door and then stepped back to wait. Sasha’s estate was a close rival to Luca’s very own, she was a one who lived in the lap of luxury, it was a far cry from his and Erila’s humble abode, though no doubt she had the funds and inheritance to match if not surpass Sasha she was never one to live the lavish life style and her simple complexity was one of the things he found so enchanting about her.

            He shoved his hands within his pockets as he tilted his head back to look up to the building that towered over him, he knew what he had to do, he was tried of the secrecy and the lies, and he meant to come clean and tell Erila everything but before he could do that there was one thing he had to do first. His attention soon snapped back to the door as it came open. As usual the door was answered by Stanley, the butler, a man whom looked little more then a walking skeleton covered in skin. Stanley was surprised to see Fenton standing on the porch now. After all it was not as if Fenton made social calls to Sasha, rather he only showed up at her calling, but he did not now plan to wait until she called upon him next, nor did he wish to meet her on her terms for what he had in mind. Before Stanley could get in a word Fenton spoke, it was not usually like him to be commanding to others, but had worked up just enough determination, he had learned at least a little more to control his rage and urges in his time with Sasha, and he knew how to better summon his strength and power at will and in moderation though he still had much to learn. "It is an emergency" He was certain his voice left no room for argument or refusal, particularly for someone use to taking orders from others such as Stanley.

            No sooner had he spoke but he would further impose his will and dominance over the situation by stepping into the house sweeping just past the curious old man. "Fetch your mistress now! If she is not here I will wait." He said without looking back or waiting for a response as he would stride into the parlor and walk over to the long deep red velvet couch stretched out in the immense room and dropped down upon it to wait. Stanley had slipped away to do as he was bid. One thing Fenton had to give him was that he could move with all the stalking silence of a cat.

            "What is the meaning of this?" That oh so familiar voice cracked like a whip in the air and he felt that electric tingle prickle his every nerve in his body but he knew he had to be strong. He turned around to look just over the back of the couch to see Sasha standing midway up the staircase, one hand resting upon the rail. Today she was wearing a little red number, with her killer heals that strapped around her ankles. Her lips matching her dress. He knew his best chance was at trying to take her off guard, which might weaken the affect of the bond if her concentration was rattled. He would say nothing at first, keeping her waiting as he turned back around to start bring himself up to his feet he would then step just around the couch so he leaned against the back of it and stood facing her.

            He had to resist that inner urge to shrink before her. "You did not have to get all dressed up just for me." He could see that his tactic had worked, for at least one split second she was unable to mask her initial shock, the surprise was clear upon her face but she would work quick to regain her composure.

            Sasha was aware that something was amiss, he had never spoken to her like that before, he was getting stronger, could it be possible that all her hard work could work against her? No that was unconceivable, and as long as she had the bond she could keep control. She would proceed to make her way down the stairs taking her time. Making each step deliberate to reestablish her position as the one with the control, the one in power. "What are you doing barging in on me like this? I am expecting company" She was careful to keep her tone level and not show anger as that could work against her, but she put a certain ice upon her words and would press her will against his.

            He felt the strong almost overpowering desire to fell upon his knees before her, to beg forgiveness as he began to think this had all just been a mistake, but he fought it, he would not give into it, not this time he would force his anger to give him extra strength to resist her. He would soon find himself looking eye to eye with her as she stood now just in front of him. She thought she had won. She could see his struggle and thought he would cave as he always did, that was enough to firm his resolve. "I want out, I cannot do this any more, you will release me from the bond." He was careful not to phrase it as a question and make it sound as if it was optional, he had to be clear and concise and give no doubt of his intentions and to make himself seem as much in command as possible.

Sasha was for once flabbergasted. This was the one scenario she had not accounted for. Had she really become too sure of herself? Had she underestimated him? She had thought she had been so careful about everything but it never occurred to her, he would simply walk up and tell her to release him. That he wanted out. That was out of the question, but things could get a great deal more complicated and difficult if she had to force him against his will.

3:11 PM - 4/13/2007 - post comment

Quote of the Week: Where there's marriage without love, there will be love without marriage ~ Benjarmin Franklin

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