forum A Game of Cards.... ((One on One// PRIVATE//CLOSED))

Started October 28, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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Winnie knew she shouldn't have been watching him. He'd blow a casket if he caught her, but as she lay there, she couldn't take her chocolate brown eyes off him. He had the same look that she had the first time she had read Dean's books. A mixture of pure pleasure and revulsion. It was shameful to be attracted to something so morbid. But in a sense, Dean had embodied a person deepest desire, and presented it as it was: evil desire.
She wanted to talk to him, ask him if he liked it. But she decided against it. With a faint smile on her red lips, she closed her eyes once more.

As he flipped through the pages, a letter slipped from them and glided to the ground. It was small with graceful, black cursive on it.

My Dearest Winifred,

How I have missed you, my little one. You were so young when I left you, he demanded so much of me at the time. Nevertheless, you found me. It was so nice of you to visit and help me. I hope you enjoy the books, I had them especially made for you, my love. Unlike we meet again, keep them close to you.

And do Aunty a favor… If you see him, tell him I said 'hello'. Tell him that I miss him deeply. And give him his letter.

I love you more than I love myself.

Sincerely,
Lauren Ophelia Dean

Marcus’s fingers stalled, trailing just above the carefully inked letters on the page. I shouldn’t be reading this. He read it anyways. Her mother… She wrote the books.. Vaguely, he remembered Winnifred mention a book after one of his episodes… something about a writer from a mental asylum? Or was he just mixing things up?

((Headcanon: Luc Crenshaw is Death to Lauren Dean, she helped kill Marcus's parents and took full blame to protect Luc))

Oh my god yessssss
But Marcus doesn’t know about her? Only about Luc? I can change the flashback k wrote a while ago

((Okay! So wanna go with that??))
Winnie decided she would need to stop playing asleep now. She gave a strained yawn and sat up slowly. Her bun had come undo and her long brown hair fell in messy cascades down her back. She rubbed her eyes and stretched.

(for sure, it's a great idea!)
(I wrote the start of a hallucination on the previous page, just ignore it lol)

Marcus's head jerked up when he heard a yawn tumble from Winnifred's lips. Sh*t. She sat up in bed, eyes still half-closed, locks of hair spilling over her back and shoulders. Dropping the book like it had burned him, he jumped up. He didn't get very far.

While reading, the outside world had melted away, taking the pain in his chest with it, but now is was back, agonizingly acute from his attempt at a quick getaway. Black spots danced across his vision, and he groaned, leaning against the wall and blinking furiously. The stitches tore painfully at his chest, now stretched too far by his laboured breathing. Get away.. In a pain-induce daze, he tried to get to the door before she could ask any questions or get upset at him for rifling through her private posessions.

((Gtg for today))
Winnie heard his groan and looked over at him. He'd fire his stitchings already. She narrowed her eyes. "I asked you to do one simple thing, brat! Stay. In. Bed. That's all!" She got out the bed and crossed the room to him, pressing a hand to his now reopened wounds. They didn't bleed much and her work could be salvaged. She cursed, and went for another cloth. She wet it in the bathroom before brining the cold rag to press against his wounds. "If you were in bed, this wouldn't have happened…" She grumbled.

She then looked into his eyes, she could see the pain etched on his face. All of it he'd tried to hid. Going back to her work, she blew on the wounds wants more, making to cool them with a gentle breeze. She helped him to his feet, and turned towards his room. "This time… Please, stay in bed…"

Marcus supressed another grunt of pain as she steadied him, wishing she would touch him with the cool cloth. It had helped to ease the pain, and her breath on his bare chest hadn't felt too bad either… He didn't know why he was allowing her to touch him, but he let her lead him to the bed and support him when he tried to sit down. The wound in his chest hurt like hell, he could feel every one of the stitches digging into his flesh, but he'd left the pain medication in the bathroom. And besides, the feeling of her hands warming his skin was distracting enough.. "No– no promises.", he croaked out, giving her a crooked smile.

She suppressed a snort. "Oh I know, that's why I'm not leaving." She left him at the bed and went into the bathroom. Just as she suspected, the medicine was still there. She picked it up and put it on the night stand beside him. "I'm staying right here until you drink that medicine and go to sleep."

Winnie was glad she took a nap, because it seemed she would be watching him for a while. She went back into her room to access the cleaner bathroom of the two, making a mental note to clean up that blood while he rested, she filled a bowl once more with cold water and grabbed the rag. She returned and placed it on his bedside. She then took the cup of medicine and put it in his hands. "Please take that." She said, her voice with a little more edge this time. "I don't want to have to hold you down and force you to drink it." She muttered, dipping the cloth in the water and wringing it out. She pressed it against the red tinted skin of his arms and chest.

Marcus was struggling to keep his eyes open, so he focused them on Winnifred’s. The cool cloth against his skin felt so good, he felt as if his whole body was burning. Toying with the medicine bottle in his hands, he gave her a small shrug. “I don’t like medicine.” A part of him was screaming to push her away, and Marcus wasn’t sure why he wasn’t listening to it. Why should Winnifred mend him? Why should she be touching his bare chest? Why should she be in his room at all? But he was too delirious from the pain to care anymore. “And you’ll be here a long time before I fall asleep.”

"I'm ready to wait. Now drink." she pushed the cup gently towards his mouth. "If you don't sleep on your own, the exhaustion is going to take you out. I'll just wait for that then." Winnie noticed the fight he was putting up just to keep his eyes open. She suppressed a smirk and leaned over to place a hand on his forehead. Hot… she thought with a sigh. "As I expected…" He was over-exerting himself by being so stubborn. All his body wanted was rest, and he was refusing it that much. "You'e gaining a fever. How lovely is that?"

(Morning!)

The rim of the cup bumped gentle against his firmly closed mouth, and upon mulling over her words he sighed and parted his lips, allowing her to tip his hands, which were loosely wrapped around it, so that the liquid flowed through. He gulped it down reluctantly, a bitter aftertaste lingering in his throat. "Happy?" Marcus's voice was still hoarse, his exhaustion leaking through, but he pretended otherwise.

(It's afternoon for me but, Morning!)

Winnie smiled and patted his cheek. "Thank you." she took the cup and placed back on the nightstand. She then stood. "I will replace this water…" she turned and returned to her bathroom. She took her time there, smiling at the success she had. "So…" she called to him. "Did you enjoy the book?" She asked. Once she returned, she was still wearing that smile. the book now tucked under her arm.

Marcus blinked, face betraying his astonishment before closing up again. She patted my cheek. “Er… “ For once, he was out of things to say. Snap our of it, you idiot. “……………….. good.” It was more than good. It had been phenomenal.

She sat beside him, keeping her word to not leave until he slept. "It seemed to be more than good when you were reading it. I wore the same look you did when I first read it, and I was 16." she laughed. She then handed him the book. "I've read it a thousand times, you can borrow it if you'd like. Since you're not going to sleep anyway."

((She could read to him, if you'd like.))

(ooh good idea!)

Marcus stared at the book in his hands for a few seconds. Then, he shook himself to snap out of his stupor and handed it back to her. Before he knew what he was doing, words tumble from his mouth. "Read to me." What are you doing you imbecile?? He felt like a small child, holding a storybook out to his mother, one that she would never read. "You're not stupid enough to have me read out loud to you.", she would snap, and his tiny face would fall. He had learned over time not to depend on others like that, but still… "Please."

Winnie looked at him for a moment, and then another. She then smiled and opened the book. "Very well…" She said, turning to the first page. She started, "Chapter 1…"

Death was a man. A man with strong, broad shoulders and velvety brown hair that hung to his shoulder while rebellious strands fell over his steel gray gaze. His body carved from stone, powerful and unbreakable, his lips were pink and soft, tempting and hynotizing. He walked with surety in his steps.

He walked towards me.

I was a young girl. I had no business being at this saloon, forcing down drinks to appear much older than I was. And he knew that. Maybe thats why he can up to me, a smile on those handsome lips, desire shining in those eyes. He did not hide what he wanted from me, not for a second.

He braced both hands on the bar-top behind me as I turned to view him fully, the muscles in his shoulders rolling with the action, even under that impeccable black suit. He leaned close to me, I could taste the whiskey on his breath, mingling with grapes and strawberries.

*"Now, what is a young babe like yourself doing in such a place as this?" He chuckled, his lips blazing soft trails along my cheeks. I supressed a gasp of pure pleasure. He chuckled again. *

Finding it hard to breath I struggled to answer, "I-I will have you know… I am 22 years of age-"

"Still a mere child…" He breathed again my skin. My pulse fluttered.

He hand such power over from the beginning, I have come to see. That even as his hands led paths down my waist. Even as he led me away to his quarters for the even, tugging at the strings of my bodice, I had not wanted to stop him. I hadn't wanted to object him. I didnt protest or fuss as he removed my dress. As he took my body. But I did notice one thing. The coldness about him. His grasp was put frost, cooling the fire within me. His kiss was ice on my skin, his force a chill running down my spine.

As I lay in his bed, naked yet covered by his sheets, I wonder of the choice I have just made. I know I am hook, there is no getting away from the power he possessed over me. I just wondered how far it would go. Where he would lead me.

He looks at me, a cold hand running down my cheek as we lay in darkness our bodies humming from the love we had made.

"Say it." He demanded. "Say my name."

And I did, with pleasure and glee I did.

"Death…."*

Marcus had his eyes closed, making sure to keep his expression unreadable. On this inside, he was a turmoil of confused emotions. There was a girl, an attractive one, who had recently touched his bare chest, sitting across from him on his bead and reading an erotic story, and a sinful one at that, as he lay half-naked after an episode of self harm. What the hell am I doing?? He honestly didn't know anymore. The story…. it both repulsed him and drew him in. It was twisted, disgusting, the content turned his stomach, but the style, the way the words seeped into his skin and lodged inside of him…. it had power. The author was evidently a superb one, and female at that. Marcus couldn't actually remember ever reading a book by a woman.

He tried to sit up, chest blazing with pain again. "Who– who wrote this?" And there was something else bothering him. The description of the man, the one labelled as 'Death'…. it reminded him painfully of his uncle. It was just another reminder that he would never be free of him, even when it wasn't him.

Winnie cleared her throat. "Uh- the author is Lauren Dean. A family member of mine. She wrote these books while she was in Winterbridge. I am so proud of her writing. Even if it disturbs me sometimes." She gave a nervous laugh.

Winnie closed the book and placed it to the side. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. "Why do you ask?" Winnie wondered if he was really interested in the story. "Their are only three books, this one is by far my favorite though."

"I was just curious.", he lied smoothly, not mentioning the glimpse of the letter he'd seen earlier. "Winterbridge? The asylum?" That would make sense. "And are they all… romances? With Death?" Marcus bit back a grimace of pain, but it was already subsiding thanks to the medicine.

"Yes, the asylum." she couldn't help be tighten her fists. "Regardless of where she's been, her work is ingenious and only exists in three different places, this room being one of them." She lifted her chin higher, her back straight. The stature of a queen. "No, one of them is over her childhood, how she recognizes aspects of insanity within her life. The last is of her experience in Winterbridge." Her eyes narrowed. "All equally works of art."

Marcus surprised them both by putting his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean– I didn't mean to imply that her current placement undermines any of her work, forgive– forgive me." What the hell am I doing?? "Her literature– it's spectacular. I've never read anything like it."