The first thing she became aware of as she slowly ascended to full consciousness was the tight grip around her waist pulling her possessively against her most favorited bed partner. The gentle breaths flowing through her hair came second. Slowly she opened her eyes, unwilling to let go of that drowsy feeling of sleep yet knowing that it was already out of her reach. Sunlight filtered through the windows casting beautiful light plays on the wooden floor she was barely able to see over Engel's frame. The clock hanging on the wall told her it was already 9:34 AM. The fact that she could read the hour in the first place told her she hadn't taken out her lenses. She should do so soon then.

Instead she looked up at Engel's face, peaceful in it's undisturbed slumber. Pale eyelashes rested on pale but bruised looking skin. She hadn't noticed yesterday in the dim lightning of the restaurant but he had a gentle darkening beneath his eyes. Not bad enough to be called bags but enough to indicate stress or lack of sleep. She supposed that would explain why he wasn't awake yet. Normally he would rise before her and prepare a simple breakfast for the two of them. It seemed it was her turn to do so now. Careful not to wake him she removed his arm from around her waist and rose from the bed doing her best to be silent as a mouse. Her feet sunk in the beautiful carpet that laid on her side of the wide bed.

Just as she moved to leave the room she caught sight of herself in the beautifully decorated mirror across the bed. At once she went still, enthralled by the marks of debauchery from last night and the ugly scars beneath them. Softly she trailed burn wounds that covered the space above her right breast, invisible on the breast itself but still leaving a slightly strange texture to feel over parts of the breast when one touched it.

That one was from when she accidentally poured boiling hot tea over herself as four-years old. She had been lucky. Initially her whole upper body had been covered with the burns, her skin rolling off her after her mother had rushed to put her in the sink allowing lukewarm water to stream over the burns. Then you had the stretch marks on her hips though now covered with love marks. Those were from her rapid weight gain and loss.

Not to mention the strange dip she had in her inner thigh caused by the steering wheel of a mountain bike ramming into her leg. She was still the most bitter about that one. She had been eleven at the time and the class excursion had been mountain biking. Joy. She had managed to fall and her mountain bike had rammed into her leg. She still remembered the instructor words. "You're allowed to cry here, not howl."

Never had she experienced such fury at a person she barely knew. Biting through the pain she had roughly pushed past the instructor and hopped onto the bike. She had furiously ignored the man's words to come back. Never had she bicycled as fast as she had on that day. When she came home that day even she had been surprised at the extensive bruising and the actual dip in her leg. Her mom had taken her to the doctor a few days later when both the dip and bruising were still stubbornly present. The doctor had announced it would probably take a few years for the dip in her leg to leave if not she would need plastic surgery. The dip still remained in her leg. She was lucky it was hard to notice.

She hadn't lied to Engel yesterday when she told him she preferred him over anyone else. He didn't stare at her scars anymore. Didn't expect the beautiful body anymore that most people seemed to after seeing her clothed form. In fact he seemed to thrive in her scars, always covering them for her with marks that showed his appreciation of her body. Roxane wasn't sure what love was, didn't believe herself capable of feeling it, but she knew she cared greatly for Engel simply for the act of allowing her in his bed time after time with those scars other believed foul and ugly. Truly she liked the burn marks. She could appreciate the stretchmarks for their beautiful intertwining trails of blue and purple. Only the leg was off-putting for her. It was something you learned if you meddled long enough in art. Appreciating the beauty in the ugly.

Most people however didn't meddle in art. Didn't appreciate the beauty scars could be and only thought of them as utterly ugly. She remembered standing in front of the mirror as a teenager, her body nearly naked if not for the bra and panties she wore. Her mother had entered the room. With a smile on her face she had turned to her mother. Told her mother that the marks that stained her body actually weren't so bad. That they were barely even noticeable. Her mother had looked upon her with pity in her eyes. Said that they were quite noticeable in their ugliness.

And so she had learned that even if she accepted her scars it didn't necessarily mean others would as well. Engel did though. Had done so from the very first time she had stripped herself before him.

And she appreciated that in him. Silently she looked back at him. A burst of affection shot through her at the sight at him. She left the room and closed the door behind her. Making her way to the kitchen she allowed her hands to trail over the walls. The apartment was richly decorated but there was nothing at the height of her hips so her hand didn't bump into anything.

The kitchen was clean. The maids had probably cleaned it a few days ago. Not that Engel was really messy but he wasn't this clean either. She made her way to the large refrigerator, smiling when she found eggs and sausages inside. For a moment she hesitated before opening a large drawer, smiling in victory when she pulled out a frying pan. Putting the pan on the fire she put in some butter which she allowed to melt before adding the already cut in pieces sausages. Then she broke the shells of the eggs and poured them in a large cup where she beat them with a fork. Once satisfied she poured them into the pan. Putting the fire low so the eggs wouldn't burn to quickly she left the kitchen in search of the CD's she knew were hidden in the living room.

Roxane was unable to do anything without music playing. It wasn't something many people knew but a day without music was a bad day for her.

She ran through the CD's before she finally stumbled upon she knew Engel liked. She pushed it into the radio player, skipping the first song since she didn't like that one all that much. The melody flowed into the room.

' Run boy run! This world is not made for you

Run boy run! They're trying to catch you

Run boy run! Running is a victory

Run boy run! Beauty lays behind the hills'

She smiled as the familiar tune ran over her and slowly started filling the empty apartment. Then she remembered the eggs and hurried to the kitchen. They weren't burned yet. She took her place behind the fire carefully sliding the eggs into the plates she had found seconds ago. The sound of soft footsteps reached her ears as she picked up another plate. She was unsurprised when arms slipped around her pulling her comparatively small frame of 173cm (5'8") into a larger one of 191cm (6'3"). A kiss was gently laid upon her hair before a chin took rest upon her head.

"You cooked."

"No, really?" She responded cheekily "I hadn't noticed."

He ignored her remark. "You found my CD of Woodkid?"

She hummed in response.

"It's been awhile since I last listened to them, Thanks for picking them." And not some weird German band. Was left unspoken but heard quite clearly. Roxane had this nasty habit of finding all manners of German bands and forcing him one way or another to listen to them. The only one he hadn't openly snubbed was one that was called Milky Chance. It didn't quiet align with his own music tastes but was certainly better than some pop song from the 90's.

With an odd whirl she was out of his arms and on one of the bar stools that surrounded the kitchen island. Smiling she put her plate down, sliding Engel's over the smooth table. Apparently she had used a lot more force then thought. For a moment it looked like it was going to slide of the table and Roxane closed her eyes waiting for the ringing sound of crashing porcelain. When after a few second it still didn't appear she opened her eyes to see Engel sitting before the plate, eating from it. She smiled sheepishly at him. He ignored her. Understandably. This wasn't her first bout of clumsiness around him.

"You forgot to add salt and pepper."

Ah, she did, didn't she? She always forgot with simple stuff. Still, she didn't need to make him breakfast. He could be a little bit more thankful instead of simply remarking upon how she managed to screw up eggs. Engel seemingly having noticed her dwindling mood smiled at her, his teeth looking sharp.

"But I appreciate your gesture, I know you don't like cooking in the morning."

He looked down at his dish again and ate another forkful of the eggs and sausage.

"I looked into a few locations for your exposition."

Roxane perked up at his words. She had told him she wanted to hold another exposition soon. It seemed he had listened. He often helped her organize them since she didn't work with an art dealer or gallery.

"I found a gallery that is willing to host it if we lay down 50% of the sell prices from the paintings that get sold." Engel watched as Roxane's pretty face scrunched up.

"That's way too much."

"I agree. That's why I found another place that we can simply hire off. The minus side of this location is that we have to ensure the reception ourselves. Luckily for ourselves I found a restaurant that is willing to provide both the food and drinks and the waiters."

She smiled at that news. That was great.

"Another downside is the date."

Roxane cocked her head. She had said any date was okay, hadn't she? Then how could the date be a problem?

"The exposition premiers on your birthday."

Oh. The 25th November then. That was okay. She didn't really mind. She could celebrate another day. So she told Engel. He smiled at her.

"I know you don't mind but I do. We have celebrated your birthday every year since we met on the date. That's way I arranged for your celebration to fall on my own."

Engel's birthday was on the 25 December. Just as they had always celebrated her birthday they had always celebrated his birthday. But now he wanted to celebrate their birthdays on the same day. She narrowed her eyes at him. Was this another try at 'owning' her? Did it matter? He had just done her a favor. She was willing to concede for that reason alone. Thus with thin smile she spoke.

"A public celebration or private?"

He returned her smile though his looked slightly more genuine. She didn't doubt it was. He enjoyed toying with her when she was feeling suspicious. And just in general too.

"Both."

He laughed, his laugh beautiful like tinkling bells. Sometimes she was convinced he practiced it in private to sound so pretty.

"Trust me, Darling, You'll enjoy it thoroughly."

Oh, she didn't doubt that. Just as she was able to wind Engel around her fingers so was he able to do the same with her when he wished. She wasn't the only one comfortable with the power that lay in charms. She leaned on her elbows crossing half of the space that lay between them.

"Okay."

He lazily smiled up at her, looking like a panther enjoying his time after the kill. His hand reached up to grasp her chin as he leaned forward crossing the rest of the space between them. Lips met softly but possessively in the middle.

Shui allowed the smoke to slip away between his lips as he stared at the house across the street. Wasn't that the house his girlie had gone to a dinner party at? It had been a solid month since Roxane had moved out. She still paid her half of the rent and had promised to do so until he found a new person to share his space with. As if he wouldn't notice the way her eyes saddened when she said that. She had moved out but she didn't want someone else to move in. What was he supposed to do with that?

He put his cigarette to his lips. He didn't even get why she had moved out in the first place. She had mumbled something about more place for her art but they both knew that was bullshit. Their collective pay had been more than enough to get them a spacey apartment where they both had their own rooms. One bedroom and another Art room. Roxane's had been filled with paints and canvases while his was filled with one drawing bureau for his pencil drawings and another bureau for the designs he did on his apple and drawing tablets.

So what had driven her to move out? She had always detested his smoking habits but didn't mind them as long as he took them outside. He rarely had gotten drunk and always entertained her non-alcoholic drinks when she had a bad day. He even did the dishes and laundry as long as she did the cooking. It had taken him years to be able to properly pronounce her first name instead of just the typical american/English pronouncing of her name and then she moved out?

Jesus. She was his best friend. The one thing that never disappeared and then she went and...disappeared. Sure when they had lived together he she had also disappeared now and then for a few weeks but this was permanent. There was no mistaking that this was permanent. How the hell was he supposed to take something like that?

And now he always found himself at her house. Really, he should just ask her if she was renting and sell the apartment, he thought slightly bitterly. Even now when she was out - probably with that German dickhead - he found himself on her doorstep.

And wasn't that simply pathetic?

He looked down at the pavement ignoring the smoke he exhaled. Then a purr sounded to his right. He stiffened. Please don't let it be a...cat. It was rubbing against his leg. Oh god. It was rubbing against his leg. He had lied to Roxane. Was this his punishment? A few years ago he had told her he was allergic to cats. That was a complete lie. He wasn't allergic to cats at all. He just was slightly afraid of them. He remembered the look on his friend's face when he told her of his 'allergy'. She had looked so heartbroken that it had almost broken his own heart.

But when she had asked his permission to keep a cat...he had simply panicked at the idea of those evil little felons running around his apartment. Roxane had always had a way with them though. She had always fed the cats she found walking on the street and when injured she even brought them to the veterinarian. Then again, she did that with every injured animal she found roaming on the streets. He remembered having to cancel her appointments with art collectors several times. He had even had a fight with her over it once. Told her that she was ruining her career. She hadn't taken well to that. He had missed her presence in their apartment for almost a month before he stumbled across her sitting on the couch one day when he came home.

He should have been furious with her. Told her off. Instead he had dropped his bags and hugged her close to him. Tentatively he petted the cat. It rose to his touch. A soft smile appeared on his face. Maybe he could grow to understand why Roxane had such a great love for the little furballs.

His eyes flicked up when he noticed a pair of polished coming to a stop in front of him. The cat took it's escape. He took another drag from his cigarette as he he studied the person who had come to stand in front of him. For a moment he was reminded of Engel with his air of confidence and old blood. But the features of the face were too different for them to be related in any way. And wasn't that a relief?

The man looked to be somewhere around his fifties. He had grey blond hair that was carefully parted and combed to the side. High cheekbones. Huh. Those looked sharp enough to cut your fingers on. Thin lips and a straight nose. There was something distinctly European about the man and he wasn't' just saying that because he was dressed smartly. Maroon eyes stared back at his own black ones. Slowly he blew out his smoke. He didn't bother rising.

"Can I help you?" Roxane would probably appreciate it if he at least pretended to be friendly. She was big on manners.

The man smiled at him. There was something about that smile that he disliked. Maybe it was just because the man had the same air as Engel and he was just about ready to murder Engel but...he disliked it.

"Do correct me if I'm mistaking but am I correct in assuming that Miss Nollete lives here?"

"Unfortunately." Shui mumbled under his breath. Then he coughed. "No, you're correct. She does live here. Why?"

"I recently invited Miss Nollete to a dinner party and I'm afraid that she might have felt unwelcome."

"Oh," Shui said before taking another hit. ", that dinner party that she was all excited about and left her completely sad and disappointed? Well, naturally it's that one. It's the only dinner party she's been to lately."

The man lips turned down slightly and for a moment Shui wondered if he had displeased the man with his words. Good. He deserved it for getting Shui's girl down.

"Yes, I'm afraid that would be the one then. I wanted to apologize to Miss Nollete and invite her to another dinner. This time without the guests who displeased her." Shui was just about to answer - rather rudely too - when the sound of high heels clicking on pavement reached the pair's ears. Both looked up at the same time. Roxane was nearing slowly. She looked perfectly graceful in the pair of high heels which Shui knew was all an act as the girl hated heels with a passion. She looked up from the pavement as she started nearing her house. When her eyes reached him her face lighted up with delight before it dimmed again.

Then her eyes flicked to the large figure standing beside him and any excitement that had been left at the sight of him left. She obviously wasn't very excited about seeing the guy. Somehow that pleased him. Probably because it meant he hadn't quite been replaced by some rich asshole now that she had moved.

The older man's face on the other side did light up. Shui didn't blame him. Roxane had always been a sight for sore eyes though that probably wasn't the reason the guy was happy to see her. He was probably just relieved to speak directly to her instead of talking with some rude guy in the hope that said rude guy would pass on his message. Which he probably would not.

"Dr. Lecter, How may I help you?" Roxane outed sounding rather stiff.

"Roxane, please, you know what I said about using my given name." Roxane hummed noncommittally. Huh. Did she actually dislike this guy, Shui wondered. Roxane rarely disliked people. Her current behavior however pointed to her either disliking the guy or being uncomfortable with him.

"I wanted to offer my apologies for how I acted towards you at the end of the dinner party. I wrongly assumed that you had been the rude one. Alana cleared it up with me and explained to me that it hadn't been you who had been rude but rather Mr. Nielsen and ..." He ignored Shui's snort and mumble of 'no wonder with names like that.' "..who had been rude to William and that you simply defended him. An honorable act which I'm ashamed to admit I condemned without having all the facts. Would you please accept my apologies and offer to another dinner this time without the people who had displeased you?"

Roxane seemed to need some time to take that in. She was obviously surprised. No wonder really. If Shui had gotten such a lengthy apology he would also have been surprised. Then again people rarely apologized to him. Probably because when Shui felt wronged strongly enough to receive such a lengthy apology he would already have fixed the problem with his fist.

Then Roxane smiled. It was a soft genuine smile. It was rather obvious that she had gotten laid, Shui thought, otherwise she would have never managed such a sweet looking smile without looking decidedly evil.

"Sure Hannibal, I'd like that." Why did Shui feel like his best friend had just gone and signed a pact with the devil?

I found a new site which motivated me to write so you guys should be grateful to that site. And pinterest because without pinterest I wouldn't have found the other site. So yeah, let me know what you guys think.