Pas d'amour

Chapter 3: Two Doors Across

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Especially the TTs, Tricky's "Suffocated Love" & "Man Next Door" plus "Dissolved Girl" by Massive Attack which both have lyrics down below. Listen to them while reading.

(Raven)

When I walk, I don't know what to do with my hands.

That's all I can think of when I float into the Control Room with my barren, sullen expression. The feeling of flight does not change this thought. Even my cloak does not cover up the nervous and awkward splendor of my pale, translucent hands. No amount of blackened power will allow me to feel free of the thought.

If that was bad then, imagine a powerless me now.

This cloak hurts more than it helps.

I feel like I have something to hide when in all honesty, there is nothing left to tell. This cloak talks on its own lie after lie. It makes people think, wonder, and then base actions on it.

I am not a mystery.

I just prefer not to talk.

If I was in high school right now, I'd be the next blushing, bumbling girl with a drab voice but a very open mind. My extreme awkwardness is disguised as apathy.

The victims of this misguided thought are my hands. They don't know what do when 4 other hormonal teenagers are staring at me. They don't know what to do when evil-hearted people challenge them. They don't know what to do when millions of people thank them and their preceding actions.

I don't know what to do when Malchior slyly stares at me pretending I am an embodiment of perfection.

Like right now.

My powers have left me on some precarious journey their owner was not invited to. Instead I have been pushed into a needy state where I've surprisingly not turned into that blushing bumbling girl.

Malchior doesn't affect me, yet I cannot tell him that.

Something about a heartbroken dragon-man doesn't sit well with my emotions. So I let him try to rub me the wrong way. Yes, even in the physical sense.

It feels good to be on the other hand of unrequited love.

Gives you a sense of disgusting power…

I don't know if he loves me though and if he did I wouldn't know what to do next. Empathy would force me to sit near him and hear the beating of an aching dragon-man heart. I would then be smothered by man's biggest burden.

Guilt. (1)

I doubt though that his innocently pretty looks will allow him to swallow his pride and tell me his…feelings. Malchior would not stoop so low to then by washed away by a mere witch's indifference.

He instead has decided to be the annoying 2nd grader who tells the girl he likes that he likes her by kicking a ball in her face.

In this case, Malchior escapes from his prison twice and spares me no mercy. He then, in a very violent manner, makes it up by engaging me in a very unloving relationship based on carnal desire.

And I, knowing how wrong it is, can't seem to get away. I can't leave him and everyone silently knows that. Even the most impudent people in the tower. They don't question me because they think I have a heart wrenching answer.

I don't.

Malchior is equivalent to a toy for me, except I lack the characteristics of the slut designed to play with him.

Tenderly he opens the door of his apartment. His tall, almost lanky frame leans against the door. He sees me in my impish actuality, out of costume both mind and body. He betrays no interest on his part but the cruelty of his eyes dim down in the dull light.

I walk in one sad step at a time. My shoulders are hunched and my hands of course nervously intertwined. I act like this is okay when it obviously isn't for one of us.

We then proceed to talk in soft voices with only his granite kitchen counter to keep the other at bay. Malchior takes on most of the conversation. My words are empty and I wonder if I cause him pain with my monosyllabic replies. I also am wondering faintly if I should be nicer since I am the one who intrudes his home late at night.

Then I wonder, if it really bothered him wouldn't he tell me? His pride could never be mistaken for. I think about that for a minute or two and wait for the heavy stuff to come in.

Chit-chat isn't necessary but Malchior is an amazing speaker. However hollow his words are, it doesn't matter to anyone. The fact is that his voice is directed at you. That's flattery enough. The English accent, the rich excess of vocabulary, and the way he makes you appear a hundred times more beautiful than you are. This wise quality. My knees unfaithfully tremble as I realize why I was tricked by him in the first place.

Lust.

It's the only feeling I've ever had that doesn't technically make me feel that burden of guilt. Sure, I denied to myself those observations of the other sex I had when I was younger, but as you get older you stop scolding yourself. Then you transition into physical lust, a physical lust which leaves you on your knees unable to walk away.

My knees tonight have already belted out on me. I've begun to notice his approaches have been quicker by the day. His needs are being exclaimed into my mind.

"Are you cold Raven?" he asks with his own contemptuous grin placed perfectly on his face. He seems to have noticed my own lust fueled tremors. The pride he has in himself is glowing even before my answer.

"No." Lying is dreadfully fun. When something is easy, it must be fun.

He snorts and scans my face with a smirk. Like a robot, he locks onto some part of my face. I've begun to feel horribly insecure in front of him. Offhandedly he throws out a, "Really..? Hmm...I am."

A very faint blush on my face is the reply to that suggestive remark. Malchior has decided to saunter up to me. His one fairly pale arm slinks up from my own arm to my shoulder to tread up to my collarbone. It was achingly close to a place he was familiar with. The hand he has placed dangerously on my neck is cold and phantom like. He lacks the feelings I've always wanted to be directed at me and yet this chilling touch is amazing. He really wasn't kidding when he said he was cold.

My hands have decided to be someone else's as they've clenched and unclenched on their own accord. Back with Malchior, the decision he has made is to go slowly to his prize. One freed arm wraps around my waist and catches my clenched fist. He soothes the pain I've begun to feel and in the dark I realize how pathetic I must be. The insecurity I have is a tide of utter sin. I feel nothing inside and yet I try to play this odd part. I lie and betray what I feel.

His hands slink up to the "treat" before the prize. His hands always know what to do.

Hands around my throat, delicately placed.

I wonder if this replayed scene is the contemplation of murder. The torment I have caused him is enough for him to stay in this thought. He wants to kill me and that's a dream that could be the balm to his scratched pride.

It's not me who's come to him tonight.

It's never me.

It's him.

"She says she's mine, I know she lies.
First, I scream, then I cry."

(X)

Guilt trip re-assessed, I think I'm fine now. I won't even dive deeper into what happened. Second thoughts are the worst things you can have.

Thankfully, there are solutions. Like vodka, gin, tonic, beer, and a very willing girlfriend.

Two hours after the ordeal I had in the tower, I'm standing in front of the door to my apartment. I couldn't manage to teleport inside, preferring to walk up several flights of stairs in stoned solitude. For some reason, as I was on the 3rd floor, a thought hit me.

Pretty boy all up on Raven was a tad familiar. I tend to forget people easily, true, but the Malchior guy was somehow recognizable. I don't remember ever hearing his voice or seeing his face but there is that small touch of nostalgia. No memory attached or anything, but his presence was faintly connected to my own. Oh, but if I did know him, I wouldn't mind punching his face once or twice. He totally ruined the gutsy plan I had for the Titan's newly furnished tower. Apparently he mentioned to Raven a certain chainsaw oddly on the floor.

She called Robio apparently since a couple of people I knew were remarking on the utterly discontinued fight with Mad Mod and the Titans at a bar.

Whatever. When I reached the next floor my thoughts on Raven and Malchior disappeared.

As I mentioned before, I'm standing in front of my door, fishing out keys to the lock. I can't help but chuckle at this random realization that I've never really seen my neighbor.

Well he/she isn't really my neighbor I guess. The apartment next to mine has been vacant for a year for no reason and the one directly in front is a storage room. So the only 'neighbor' I have is the one 2 doors across of mine.

I wake up too early and sleep too late to know who that person is. Consider the relationship cold and dead. Besides, I think my neighbor here is a bit of a recluse. Never seen him/her out and about. The only time I've heard his/her's door hiss open is at ungodly hours. Even for me.

Like right about now would be the perfect time for this guy/girl to walk out and yell, "Hey stranger!" or just ignore me and do whatever the crap he/she does. This is probably smoking or making way for another stranger to enter into his/her humble abode.

Damn, where are my keys? My pockets aren't even that damned big.

Yeah but anyway, I have heard suspicious company coming from that room, apartment 2167, and they were based on sounds only. The loudest sound I heard was a couple of months ago. I remember being half-awake with a cigarette in my fingers and lying on my ugly sofa. My eyes were half closed and I was absorbing a late night indie flick. The choppy sequences were alluring and I was out of it.

And then, the faintest of groans passed through my ears.

At first I thought it was the movie but then again, who hears a groan like that in a hospital ward? With such pleasure? No one was in my apartment except me, pretty sure about that. I could've left the mystery as it was since such a trivial thing was beyond me. For some reason though, curiosity peaked and I shuffled out of my apartment to stand at the threshold of the door. Immediately I looked across the hall, 2 doors down. Peculiar. Very peculiar.

A female groan, totally, and at 3 in the morning? Ooh, mystery neighbors never cease to amaze me.

"Ah! Found you damn things." The keys were now securely in my hand.

But anyway, after that I tried to catch my neighbor in conversation. Unfortunately, that damn bastard either has a teleportation method or just doesn't get out. I never met him/her.

I never see anyone in our hallways either. It bugs the hell out of me but I guess I should cherish the privacy people die to get. Anyway, I had opened my door now and lazily went in one hand turning on the lights.

"What to do. What to do," I muttered.

My lights then flickered for a second in a very eerie way. Soon enough there goes out all of them. It was like a bad omen or a foreshadowing. I don't need a foreshadowing at all. Man's greatest invention left me in a blackout.

Great.

"Say, say my name,
I need a little love to ease the pain."

(Raven)

"I see your powers are back."

Malchior in his pride could never be gentle and sweet with me. It cut me that even when I gave him the pleasure he lusted and lunged after; he would still never bother to care. Cheap, verbal attacks. I've begun to get bored of them.

We're both in this for something. Something the other lacks. He comes for the pleasure, I come for my ego.

All sex no love makes me feel every bit the antagonist.

At least Malchior shows his need is human. My own are so mechanical. So mechanical that all I can see are benefits.

I thought the loss of my powers would be better taken cared of if I went to him as he called. I really never knew that being fucked out of my head like every other time would bring back my most prized possession. Here I am, wrapped under the bedsheets I've grown accustomed to, in a stiff embrace with him. His cruel eyes don't stare at my own. They're somewhere on my face again.

The excitement wore off and I'm wondering why exactly I come back. We're not worth the passion. He's fully clothed, while I'm naked as the day I was born. The stare irks me as much as my lack of response irks him. After the sex, Malchior always dresses but never lets me. A pet peeve perhaps and I don't want to ask why.

A couple of dull seconds later I question him, "Do you have any candles?" The guilt of causing this blackout bothers me. The hero instincts tell me to make sure the building's occupants are safe.

"No." he said. Stoically, I get out of his bed. If the world saw me now, they'd notice the strange shame written on my face. Malchior doesn't though, and he kisses one of my hands. Not in a polite manner.

The sheets are wrapped around me and I maneuver around the bedroom grabbing the shirt and jeans I walked in here with.

Malchior shifted in the bed to a sleeping position. He mumbled, "Are you going home?"

I pulled my black shirt over my torso. The coldness of the apartment hits me hard. "Yes." Dark blue jeans were on me as well now. "I'll get candles from your neighbor."

Sleep had not escaped him as he mumbled something incoherently.

"What?"

He turned and in a louder voice said, "Two doors across. The ones next to me and in front are either vacant or storage."

"Oh." It surprised me he knew anything about his neighbors. Malchior was as reclusive as I was. "Thank you."

A nod.

This was our way of saying goodbye: genuine thank you-s. It was the most civil part of this "relationship" we had. The only thing we ever truly meant to say to each other when we said it.

I turned to leave and treaded across the icy plateau of hardwood floor to make my way to his door. There was no point in turning back to smile or something. He wouldn't appreciate it. My strength, my character, they attracted him alright, but they could never add up to worth. I gripped the doorknob as another shiver ran through my body. A warning perhaps? I don't do shivers one after the other.

A creak ran through the living-room and I was gone from his terrible, terrible gaze. The thought of candles came back to me. It was a good idea to get some just to make it through such a shady looking hallway. For some reason, the full extent of my powers hadn't come back. I could break things with a single thought of course and empathy wasn't a problem anymore, but teleporting and floating hadn't come. I was still as blind as a normal human being too. Now I had to walk back to the tower at 3 in the morning.

"Wonderful." I muttered under my breath. An urge to blow my bangs out of my face followed.

Two doors across I went and stationed myself to knock as nicely as I could. I really didn't feel like disturbing someone's sleep no matter how dark this hallway looked. And then to have them possibly recognize me would be worse.

Oh look it's Raven, a TEEN TITAN. I better hide my pot and my not medicated prescriptions before she arrests my ass. Oh, she just wants a candle? Uh huh, and I'm a monkey.

Uncharacteristic thoughts like this occur in my head sometimes. I don't know how to get rid of them. I hope they're never heard out loud because then my icy little reputation would be ruined.

OH, Raven has a sense of humor?! Wonder when that happened.

But I'm going off on an unnecessary tangent. I need a candle before sunrise and I need to get home.

KNOCK KNOCK

You could hear a shuffle from the other end of the door. I raised an eyebrow. Someone's up this late?

Whoever it was, he opened the door with the same expression as me. A round white candle was in his hand and he peered down at me quizzically and blinked. The confusion turned into some form of shock in a flash too quick for me to evaluate. His eyebrows shot up and he melted into something the world is familiar with:

The overly kind, charming neighbor.

A slow, possibly dangerous, grin swept over his face and a funny glint erupted in his gray eyes. "Well, hello stranger. What can I do for you at," he glanced at his watch. "3:58 in the morning?" Of all the doors to knock, I had to end up with an insomniac jackass.

I wanted to scoff in his face but a candle was more appealing. "Uh, sorry. I needed a candle."

"Candle?" he blinked again. Probably just woke up or was getting there. Or maybe he was a pothead.

"Yeah, candle." I pointed at the one in his hand to state the obvious.

He shot upright. "Oh! Candle!" He nervously chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. I'm not used to visitors this late at night."

"Me either..." I muttered.

I think he heard because his grin got even cheekier. "Hehe, well I've got extra candles in a cabinet somewhere so this might take a minute or two." He turned to go inside and yelled back at me, "Feel free to step inside!"

The heater was on in his apartment.

Tempting.

My mother never did tell me about the danger a girl could get in by accepting invitations inside young men's apartments. Especially when the hallway was freezing her to death and salvation was two steps. I figured she had a first hand experience on things like that.

Oh well. I stepped inside.

"There is a man that live next door

In my neighborhood, in my neighborhood

And he gets me down..."

Ha, finished! Sorry it took so long. I had an endless volunteering schedule. Now, I hope everyone reading is smart enough to realize who exactly this jackass guy two doors across is.

(1) So, see how Raven & X are different? They share the ideas of a burden in their lives but those two burdens are very different.

Thanks for the reviews you horribly nice people. Don't forget to do so again!