Whispers in the DarkMature

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With the girl that is crying
and behind the lover with the abusive face
is the longtime admirer with a burning obsession
even as from the beginning she was the one liar

{searched specially for quick existing collection of songfics}{was just a coincidence that themes vaguely relate}{guess people just relate more to the bloody}{or the urge to write comes more when and then}

Whispers in the Dark
by Skillet

Other warnings: not quite g rating. but that's already forwarned from the first fic. any names were also omitted as realised the former was actually Fanfiction. apologies}

an up and coming chancellor assistant fought her way tooth and nail for reputation, love and life. dirty ways are not at all new to her.
but her husband, lawyer in the same workfield is just as two-faced and by night shows his penchant for domestic violence.

she employs the services of less than savoury characters for heavy reworking of excuses quickly bought or forced. it is an unforgiving, unrelentful and unmoving matter of business as she looks down coldly upon the latest hardheaded possibility for whistleblowing,them on the end of a boot of the latest fashion, she behind a mask usually reserved for one with a cold.
he is clean. but uses his skills from a policeforce background on her after almost every case. a beating is anger. a scratch is disatisfaction. a whipping is a victory and an afternoon where she is too afraid to step through the front door is rejoice and celebration. in knowledge of the blades and trials that come.

another lawyer, an even closer worker than her husband has his office right next to hers. he has a pleasant enough face and being relatively young and single, fairly popular with the less work inclined but just as lonely females at work, young and old alike. unknown to her, he is the only one who knows of her plight--and all her lies. including the one that involved the taking of a child's life which sadly enough, happened rather recently. But behind the smiles offered politely, a warm vending machine drink always handed out at just the right moment and worried looks casted over the wall every workaholic night, are the blaring screens replayed just as frequently on the impressively large telveision set hooked up to a computer in the middle of his living room. a product of many uncountable cameras planted in every corner of every dwelling she ever had or will ever in the passing of all of four years. and every few weeks or so, a discarded and broken punchbag in the garbage.

Three years from the time when she was a fresh-faced trainee and just happened to be in the building opposite to the convenience store where he'd worked a few lazy-night shifts. She tropped in with her hands full of errands and his eyes simply followed her every step, not even daring to look upon her face, yet daring to anger many a customer with apparent and insistent absentminededness.

He had to start from his roots. he moved out of his parents house, took his friend's computer with him and set up in a small motel room with four other strangers for roomates and a leaky roof which he took care to note the direction of. Just three years and he had his education. a speed course but it was enough. and then three days, three days on not hearing her footsteps, her voice, her breathe, her smell..and he was in. On that day he let himself gaze upon her face for the first time. a very long time. A photo. and promptly the next day, the first camera. Implanted into the concrete crack between bits of emerging foliage, nothing but chip and lens. It captured the beautiful way she walked, long and clear of stride. when she accidently walked right atop the lens, he shyly averted his eyes. She wasn't beautiful but she was perfect. One year and he set up camp in the workplace two floors below, a trainee in his own right.

But men advance faster and soon enough, with the clear conscience record and sufficient success he had his own office and two or three people below. Chances came aplenty, more than a few departments wanted him shortly after his debut. to shine their own stars or boost their overall image, he could've made transfers all over the company and back again and nobody would've said anything. But there was only one place he wanted to be, only one person whom he wanted his smiles to touch, good humour, wit and wisdom to. her her her.

Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him that she, like every other careful and deceitful female in this world had skeletons of her own in the closet. those ones that one should never touch and never mention again. definitely not for taking out some day and thinking, oh that was funny the way that guy all and smushed into the wall trying to run away from me. oh no no no, maybe you shouldn't have died your nails that pretty color just to seduce and poison him. oh you, i haven't mentioned how you filmed the whole thing for his wife to see and shut up for! well , what could i do? the woman was pregnant! right and you didn't think she'll miscarry from shock? hey she had A baby in the end okay..

she was almost familiar to him now and said skeletons were but a tinge upon certain other surprises once he was in full awareness of his manhood. But strong woman she had become, she was blended sludge and kitten mix in another man's arms. He'd watched as the other committed every atrocity, something remotely recognizable as anger burning away in the pit of his stomach. then the feeling grew, stood steady and he was transfixed. she was tantalizing even this way. but of course, he, being the true love in the fairytales would never hurt her. He'll ride up on the noble stead and turn her tears to roses, showering her with stars and kisses and show her the parallel sky.

a year after after then, a longtime colleague betrayed her for the competitor and winded up in hospital with a mysterious two night bruise on a forever broken kneecap. This, he knew from his surveilance was not her doing but the handiwork of her husband, a rare case where their cases had colluded and he's taken matters into his own hands. so she was shocked as any other and he had his waited opportunity, a place truly as close as close could be. the adjacent office? natural proximity and more than he ever dared. the next cubicle over? almost too good to be true.

He was already established as a good sport in ways of company, back in his own department so the mantle of acquaintance and number taking was took up with little difficulty. she herself, though a little stern was friendly enough herself. And being right next to each other and on the same team, the sight of the two exchanging cups, sharing cups, by accident and then just the one, became a common sight in the office. She didn't know he didn't have a habit of retaining his bite on cup rims while he worked although he picked up on several new ones of her's; throwing the polysterene cups away after stacking them into each other, right index finger scratching top of ear then tucking hair behind with pen and the nervous habit of creating endless dogears from running fingers up and down the corners of larger piles of documents. He also supposed she wouldn't be the type to take and collect old disposable and germ-ridden trash home so he didn't either.

A slipup revealed this close abode. Luckily, he knew she had a habit of winding up going to every colleague's place sooner or later, usually a hidden attempt he thought sympathetically, to escape her burgeoning household and husband, so very quickly he disposed of the many small and primitive screens he'd had until then. A quick trip to an online store had the largest screen delivered to his door in recompense but a week later. Even more luckily, it was the exact same one that she had on a wishlist somewhere stashed away in her room's desktop drawers. It would make for conversation first and foremost if anything. The way those eyes had lighted up.. she soon became a frequenter to house and room and addressed his roommates by name. she dropped in every week or so, angling almost naturally now past the hanging punchbag and onto the floor, back to sofa back, eyes glued to the set, remote as a rest for her cheek. He never wondered whether the eyeglasses she sometimes wore at work contributed to the aquare eyes phenomenom and she never questioned why the roommate never got his grimy fingerprints to last on either object.

It was outside of either house or building that would be his first permit to an embrace though. The typical wednesday worker party and naturally he walked her home. roadworks signalled they take a different and longer route. neither opted to call for a cab and he soon found himself voluntarily without a coat. They passed by a park and inline with his image, he slowly coaxed her onto the swings. This extended into a traipse onto a largely unbalanced seesaw ride and then finally down the too small slide. he watched her with a slow smile. this was the childish side that women sometimes showed. more child-like than the most immature everyday man.

but she came to a grinding halt and burst into tears once her feet touched the bottom. He'd known that the night before, the husband having won another case came home with specially imported letter shaped pins and ran them one at a time in reverse alphabetical order down the length of her back. This was why an urging slap on the back to sing from a rather stupid coworker had ended in a near chokefit from a misplaced cherry seed in the dinner following. This was proably also, he concluded why she was crying now. she was hurting. those light red and dried trails were for her, happening all over again.

but regardless how the tears started she was soon bubbling over a different matter. a whole matter. in the form of sobbed mutters he soon recognized for a small and understated fit on her ill-minded spouse. he also knew earlier today, she'd handed over a guy to his gang bound debtors when he'd refused to keep quiet for a fellow jailmate newly released but once again on parole. but here she was pouring the tiny tidbits of her actual life to him and inside he was rejoicing, feelings not at all losing to His. here in those few seconfs of truth she was naked for him and willing. here was another step.

and the next step after that he knew too, was an affair. but unlike the one from three months before or even the, to knowledge, twice-matter of two years prior, he knew he'd built enough of a connection for it to be more than a sober and mutually consensual but temporary thing. but he doubted the pleasure to be unequal to the some he'll be giving himself tonight too. not until she was dyed completely and entirely in his color, his name.

He let her cry for a little longer and as a particularly chill wind blew, one strong arm wrapped around her and pulled the smaller form into his chest. He kept still, steadied his breathing and soon her sobs started to abate, the stream of words unheard quieting then dying away. He started on the slow pat, pat, pat pattern reknowned to many a mother then quickly turned his head, leaving the momentum large enough she felt the movement.

"look! the stars!"

she looked. as her back became clear to him again in the moonlight, he spoke the beginning.

"you'll never be alone. when..darkness comes, you know i'm never far."
he felt a tear drop onto the hand on her shoulder. if tonight was a beating, he'd overhear, having taken a jog just outside, earpiece off.

{kid gave me a few visions and a life of his own}{wondering if writers are proxies afterall}{original story included the after and something remotely more 'which is the lesser evil?'}{got bored maybe}{likely}

The End

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