When Bad Luck Strikes [Maddison]

[Robin Little]

The sound of fabric shifting and dropping caught Robin’s attention. Behind him, Maddison was following suit. He wanted to turn and watch if only to banish the memory of blood and torn flesh from his mind. Robin wasn’t doing so well. If left to his own devices, if he were alone, he’d be curled up in the corner of the shower, shaking. It would be a repeat of the mental breakdown he’d had back when he’d first stumbled into that ‘raid’.

He was not alone, however, and he was vaguely aware that he had to keep it together. For his own self-worth, for his own sanity, he had to appear strong. It didn’t stop the way his hand shook as he held it under the water to test the temperature, or the taste of his own blood in his mouth as he bit the inside of his cheek just a little too hard. He glanced down at himself, not realising the quantity of blood that had soaked the black shirt. It had coated his chest, had dribbled down his torso. He didn’t need to breathe, but that didn’t stop the constriction in his chest. It didn’t stop the panic attack that threatened to rise, to accost his body with an uncontrollable tremor. That was until he felt the brush of soft skin against his, a vision of gold slipping past him to stand in front him.

Her skin was smooth and cool, lacking the heat of a human but not unpleasant. A heavy sigh hissed from his nose, unable to help the way his eyes explored the vision presented before him, revelling in the way the water framed it, the way it embraced her. It took barely two seconds before Robin was beneath the blast of water alongside Maddison. It took less than that for his fingers to slip into her hair, to instigate yet another kiss. This one as long as the last, but imbued with a desperate need.

If he kissed her, he wouldn’t break.

If he indulged in this wanted distraction, he could keep his sanity.

[Maddison (DELETED 8452)]

For a moment Maddison felt self-conscious as his eyes explored her. She wanted to cover her private places with her arms, almost afraid that he would find her unattractive. She pushed the wet hair from her face and looked back at him, it looked as if he was in an internal debate. However, it didn't take long before he as well stepped into the shower.

It was then that she noticed the blood embracing his chest. It had dripped. Poor Robin. She knew this was hard on him, but after some point he just had to let it go. Sometimes we kill people, we're vampires. She was sure there were other vampires who did it for fun. This had been an 'accident'. That's what she kept telling herself, lest she feel responsible for the whole thing.

After all, she had been the one dancing with drunk guy.

It was soon after that she felt his lips on hers in a heated need of a kiss. The blonde wrapped her hands around his neck, kissing him back just as heatedly. Fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, and her other set explored over his cheek as she kept the kiss going.

The blonde took steps backwards until she felt the sting of the cool shower wall against her back. If he needed this, she was going to give it to him. She wanted this distraction anyways, she had ever since the very first night. Ever since he laid on that mattress on her floor. She could still remember wanting to slide that ice water down his pants to help alleviate the pain of her knee.

It was here that Maddison got lost in the kiss, not remembering why they had gotten in the shower in the first place.

[Robin Little]

The taste of blood undid him.

The water had sluiced over his head, the forward momentum taking both he and Maddison out of the shower’s reach. Droplets of water meandered down Robin cheek, over his nose, his upper lip. It brought with it the remnants of his victim’s blood; the taste of it touched his tongue, he swallowed without meaning to, and just like that the kiss was broken.

Robin had his hands against the wall on either side of Maddison’s head, his forehead now resting against hers as his teeth clenched, muscles in his jaw jumping. His eyes closed tight, as if by making the stars dance beneath his eyelids, he could forget everything. The steam of the shower carried the scent of the blood upward, strengthened it. It was all that Robin could smell.

Suddenly, he lurched for the soap and sponge. He lathered his chest and face. He clawed at his skin. There was blood beneath his fingernails and he needed to get it out. He suddenly realised what Shakespeare was on about; he knew what it was like to be in Lady Macbeth’s position. Out, damned spot! Even when there was no blood left to see, he could still see it. And he couldn’t scrub hard enough to get it out. He couldn’t scrub hard enough to erase the guilt.

”I’ve never killed anyone before…” he said, even though he was probably stating the obvious. He was aware that he was losing it. He was aware of the position it put Maddison in. When he’d asked her to come into the shower to help, he’d meant it. He needed the help. And she probably thought it was just an excuse, that he wanted to see her naked, that he wanted to kiss her again. The latter was also true, but the former was still paramount.

”I just… I just need to get the blood off,” he said, as if everything would be fine afterwards.

[Maddison (DELETED 8452)]

Soon enough the kiss was broken, again. What was with these short kisses? Was she a bad kisser? His hands landed on either side of her head and she was boxed in. The blonde looked up to see eyes closed and jaw clenched. She felt all too vulnerable at this moment. She was exposed for his viewing pleasure. However, just as fast as he'd broken the kiss, he'd stepped away from her.

He was loosing it. What exactly was she supposed to do? She hadn't ever been in this position before. Obviously. She watched as he scrubbed at his skin, even after spots of blood were gone. He wasn't doing a very good job. That was when Maddison stepped in. The blonde grabbed his hand and pushed herself closer to him, she was literally and inch away. "Stop, Robin. I've got this. You just need to relax." She took the sponge out of his hand and lathered it up with more soap.

Maddison looked down at his chest and started to lightly brush the sponge at the spots of blood, watching as it faded away. When his chest was clean, she picked up each of his hands and scrubbed at them. Last was his face. She dropped the sponge and grabbed her face wash, putting some in her hands. After rubbing her hands together, she started to wash the blood off his chin, cheeks and mouth. He was finally blood free.

Maddison bent back over to pick up the sponge. When she straightened she looked up at him. "Do you want me to wash the rest of you? I've gotten the blood off..." It was a question she asked as she dared the sponge lower down his chest.

[Robin Little]

The soap and sponge were taken from Robin’s hands and his empty fingers were left to clutch at the empty air. A terse nod was given, a sigh hefting from Robin’s chest as Maddison picked up the spots that he had missed. The beat of the water over his shoulders was soothing; more soothing was the comfort that came from the company he kept – so long as he allowed himself to relax. At first his head tipped back, the water beating at his hair and whatever flecks of blood that might have got stuck there. But soon enough he was watching Maddison. He wasn’t ogling, but admiring. He wasn’t even looking any further than her face, watching as the drops of water caught in her eyelashes and the patterns her wet hair made over her freckled shoulders.

When she reached his face he stayed still, his eyes locked on hers. Although he didn’t need to breathe, he’d been focusing on filling his lungs slowly, holding for a couple of beats, before releasing again. It wasn’t often that he had anxiety attacks; he was pretty easy, and because he got away with most things and got through all his hardships without too much broken skin he had learned to take things in his stride, and to keep up a solid philosophy of ‘it’ll be right’.

Once or twice in his life he’d had issues, though. Mostly it had to do with inspiration; when he had none and believed he was worthless, useless. Those days he’d believed – and had been very close to – living as a bum on the streets. Now he could claim a third attack, one that was easing though it hadn’t yet left the building.

Robin’s hand lifted to trap Maddison’s before it could travel any further South.

”I…” he started, then stopped, his breath caught in his throat. He was about to tell her that he could clean himself. The blood was gone – and he had to trust her, even though he swore he could still feel it on his skin – and he was a grown man. But he stopped himself. He let go of Maddison’s hand. He licked the water from his bottom lip and he nodded.

”…okay,” he said, excited and more than a little curious.

[Maddison (DELETED 8452)]

Maddison wasn't pleased when he stopped her hand. Didn't he ask her to help? Is this not what he wanted. She was getting very mixed signals with him and it was starting to become frustrating. He was hot and then cold and she couldn't do this. Once again that night she was feeling rather rejected.

The blonde stared at him, face starting to hit the resting ***** face mode.

Maddison could have any other guy she wanted, but she choose to be in this moment with Robin and he was making her feel like she hadn't kissed him. Like she hadn't gotten naked and stepped into the shower. Wasn't this supposed to be an intimate activity? He was ruining it.

But then he let go of his hand. However, there was still that hesitation. She shook her head, stepping back to create a distance between them. She was starting to get that flight feeling. The fight or flight. She didn't want to be rude and completely leave the shower so she held the sponge out to him.

"It's fine. I don't need to do it. You can do it."

Once Maddison hit this stage, she could never be brought back around. Here she honestly thought that he didn't want her to do it. So she stepped away from him as much as she could. The blonde picked up her face wash and squirted some into her hands. If she couldn't clean him, she'd clean herself.

Starting with her face.

[Robin Little]

Robin couldn’t handle it.

The awkwardness was something that had been building between himself and Maddison – something that had always been there, or so it seemed, but which morphed and changed over time, and which reared its head at the worst moments. If Robin expended any energy figuring it out, he’d realise they were both just a little less self-confident than they should be. It was their insecurities that got in the way. He’d realise that if he soothed Maddison’s insecurities, she could in turn sooth his.

But in his current state of mind, he had no space to reason anything. He could figure nothing out. He could have tried to reassure Maddison; he could have picked up that sponge and started to clean her instead. But did she want him to? He didn’t want to have that question answered with rejection. He didn’t want to risk it. As much as he wanted to be the slashing bad boy who could now take full control of this lusty situation, he couldn’t. Not with the memory of murder bouncing around in his head and constantly causing his undead heart to sink like a boulder in his chest.

So he did nothing. Instead, he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, hastily wiping the moisture from his skin and scrubbing it from his hair. Dry enough, he draped the towel back on the rack – respectful enough, sometimes, to try to be tidy – and vacated the bathroom.

Although he went back to the guest bedroom, it was only to collect a pair of boxers and a plain grey t-shirt. Once dressed, he instead went to Maddison’s bedroom. The main bedroom. Presumptuous, yes. Bold, probably. Was it going to be awkward for her to find him there? Almost definitely. But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t pander do it. If all else failed, he’d have to just admit the reason to himself, and to her. He’d have to say the words out loud, as pitiful as they may be.

He did not want to be alone.

He pulled back the sheets and the comforter and slid between them. He pulled one of the pillows down so that he could hug it to his chest, the blankets tucked right up to his chin. All that could be seen was a tuft of still-damp hair.

And there he lay until she found him.

[Maddison (DELETED 8452)]

Maddison was furious. No, she was more than furious when he walked out of the shower. She felt complete and total rejection. The blonde stood there in the water wondering what could possibly be so wrong with her that he just left her like that. Wasn't he the one who asked her to help. Who asked her to get in the shower?

She was seeing red.

"**** you too, Robin." The blonde muttered out when he left the bathroom. She knew that much because she couldn't see or hear him anymore. The blonde wasn't happy. No, she most definitely was not. If he left her house? Well, he'd probably find his things on her front lawn.

After a moment, she calmed herself down enough to wash up. First her face, then her hair and last her body. She felt some what better knowing that she was clean. Blood free if any had even gotten on her. She then turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping her fuzzy towel around her body and then the small one around her hair. The bloody clothes were still lying on the floor.

No surprise there, Robin wasn't very cleanly.

It didn't take long before she walked down the hallway and went into the guest bedroom. She of course saw no one there. She was going to give Robin a piece of her mind. He wasn't in there though. That ****** had left. Maddison wrung her hands and then walked into her bedroom, face full of anger.

She wrenched up her dresser and pulled out a pair of lace bikini style undies. They were slid on and then her towel was dropped. She didn't normally wear much to bed, and tonight was no different. Maddison found a tight white cami and slid it on. It exposed some of her stomach. The part not covered by her slinky underwear. She dropped the towel that held up her wet hair and then moved over to the bed to climb in.

At first she hadn't noticed Robin in her bed, but when a leg hit another that was a lot more hairy than hers. She didn't have any hair to be exact, the blonde let out a scream and sat up in her bed.

"What the **** are you doing in my bed!? I'm so ******* mad at you right now. You don't get to be in my bed! You walked out on me! Explain your ******* self!" She growled out at him, a glare fixed on his face that could have sent him to his death if looks could kill.

[Robin Little]

The scream and the blast of fury was enough to startle Robin out of the doze he’d drifted into. He hadn’t heard Maddison come into the room; hadn’t heard the gentle rustle of clothing as she got dressed. He was only fully aware of her presence when she started to scream at him. He hadn’t been in the middle of the bed. He was on the very edge, and in a bid to scoot backwards and give Maddison space he fell right off the side, landing on the floor with a dull thump. Sitting there, he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms until stars danced behind them.

You’re a useless, worthless, messy psycho killer, Robin. Why the **** would she want you in her bed?

Despite his scathing inner monologue, Robin still took a deep breath, words fitting together in his head in a bid to try to explain himself, as requested.

”I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he said. He didn’t look at Maddison. He couldn’t. The heels of his palms remained pressed against his eyes. ”I killed someone. I’ve never killed anyone before. I’m kind of dealing with that right now and I can’t focus. But you’re right not to feel sorry for me. I shouldn’t feel sorry for me. I killed someone,” he said. He sighed, dropping his hands and glancing hastily at Maddison before looking away, staring at his hands as if he’d see them still covered in blood.

”I thought you were suggesting something. I thought we’d end up here and … and I’ve wanted to kiss you. You know that? I want this,” he nodded pointedly to the bed, ”But I don’t want the beginning of any relationship to be all tangled up with… with… murder,” he said, voice growing quiet. He was flushed and flustered, his tongue struggling over the words.

What the **** are you doing, Robin? She doesn’t want to be with you. Why would you even think she wants a relationship? Are you trying to humiliate yourself?

He stood up.

”I didn’t want to be alone. But it’s okay,” he said with a soft smile. ”I’ll uhm… I’ll leave,” he said, hesitating as if he had something else to say, but decided against it, instead heading for the door. When he got there, however, he changed his mind again, shaking his head.

"No, you know what? I killed a man. I killed him because he had his fleshy hands all over you. We come back here and I kiss you. Twice. And you're angry because I left the shower? To come to your bed, no less. You didn't have to, you know. Help me. You didn't have to kiss me back. If you'e disgusted, if you don't want to be anywhere near me you should have told me not to come back with you. I understand. Your mixed signals are confusing the **** out of me. So I'll just leave," he said, turning his back and doing just that.

[Maddison (DELETED 8452)]

She sat there on her bed, listening to him. Trying to interject but failing each time. He made her feel awful. She had let it go that he killed someone. That wasn't even a thought in her mind anymore. She didn't think he was disgusting or anything else. What she had been upset about was that he kept walking out on her.

She had kissed him back. She had wanted it too, but she felt like he regretted it. Like he was ashamed of her now.

Her mixed signals!?

He was the one who stopped her hand, who got out of the shower and then somehow ended up in her bed. Her mind was reeling. Before she could say anything. He wasn't out the door again. Leaving.

"That must be what you're good at." It was mumbled and only said when she was sure he wasn't standing in the room anymore.

Now what did she do? She felt awful. He made her feel like she was some awful person. She wasn't sure how she was the one giving mixed signals. She had gotten into that shower with him. She had did as he asked. All because the stupid blonde was falling for the stupid boy.

She had kissed him back.

Before she knew what was happening, hot liquid was falling from her eye balls. Angry because she was crying, the blonde fell back against the bed and curled up. She tried not to make any sounds. She didn't want him to know how he made her feel. If he wanted to leave, then that was on him. She hadn't told him to. She only wanted to know why he was in her bed when he was the one who kept leaving her.

A soft sob escaped her and the blonde put a hand over her mouth.

There she lay curled up in bed, crying over Robin.