Chapter 37: Weight Of The World On Her Shoulder

Ladislas could hear her ragged breath under him as she straightened herself a little and took some of her weight off her. He noted that she didn't smell like alcohol and her eyes were clear. She was definitely not on anything. That calmed him down a little bit.

She was a wisp of a girl. A shadow of what she was at university. But he could tell that she was strong. That she could fight off people if she needed to. This was the second time he had actually felt her body against his. And he was sure. This girl was hiding a lot more than he had thought previously. Though she was abnormally thin, through her clothes, he could feel the muscles of her arms.

Ladislas used his magic to get them to his home quickly. She seemed to notice the pace but didn't think much of it. She had never found his home before. Maybe it was a few minutes from the street she had been staying in for the past few months.

Ladislas unlocked the door with a wave of his hand. Once inside, Anna leaned away from him and pressed up against the wall with a heavy sigh.

Ladislas believed it was relief.

He took off his wet clothes, hat, and gloves and turned to Anna.

"Take off your coat. It's soaked," he instructed quietly.

She complied after some hesitation and revealed even more ragged old clothes underneath, which were also cold.

"Shit," Ladislas swore under his breath. "Wait here. I'll be right back," he said as he rushed into the bedroom to see if he had something warm for Anna to wear. He found something feminine and thick. He also sprinted to Penelope's room and took some pants and other things that Anna might need.

He was finally grateful for Penelope's presence in the universe. He returned to the hallway and saw that Anna hadn't moved a muscle since he left her there.

Her head was still down and she was shaking and holding herself tightly to find some warmth. He also saw fear.

"Do you want a hot bath?" he blurted out.

Anna shook her head. She would rather go out into the cold than do something that insane. She would be completely off guard if she bathed in the house of a man she knew was capable of killing people without a thought. And who was she to tempt fate?

Before she could protest, he spoke again.

"Anna, I have no reason to help you. And I don't want to know what happened to you. I just want you not to die." He paused and pressed his lips together. "If you feel uncomfortable, you can take a bath, change into the clothes and then I will take you to a warm hotel and pay for a night. Understood?"

And he hoped that the human would believe he was incapable of harming her.

He waited until she nodded. Anna removed her black, ratty gloves and hat. Her hair was red at the roots, unlike the plain brown it had been before. And it looked like a bird's nest.

She bent down to remove her boots and almost fell over in the process. Ladislas stood there, watching her, and he realized that his dead heart was pounding wildly in his chest.

It seemed to be reflecting the panicked pace of hers.

Ladislas advanced slowly towards her to take the backpack from her hands, but stopped when he saw how she started to back away. And then, she looked up at him for the first time.

She looked older, but her eyes… her eyes were ancient. Like she had the weight of the world on her small shoulders.

He wondered how old she really was. With her grimy face, he couldn't tell anymore. Her eyes met his for a second before she quickly lowered her head again and stared at the floor.

"The bathroom is in here," he said slowly and remembered that he was still holding all the clothes he had picked out for her. He placed them on the table at the doorway and stepped away so that she could take it on her own accord. He moved back slowly so that she wasn't startled and opened the bathroom door for her.

Anna didn't want to get into a small room with him where there was no escape, so she just waited for him to move away into the open living room.

"Towels are in the closet," Ladislas told her as he stepped farther away.

Anna nodded again and walked into the bathroom. She let out a shaky breath after she closed the door and locked herself in. She listened to him walk farther away from the door before she turned on the water in the tub.

'What am I going to do?' she thought. 'I can't afford to be seen anywhere apart from on the streets. I need to be in character all the time.'

If she got stuck here, there was no way she could call the police or anyone else. Even her handler wouldn't pick up the call, knowing that she was on a high-risk mission. If she was calling for help, she was better off dead.

What could she do to get away from this place?

She plotted.

She could eat, get warm and then leave. She would survive that way. That was a good plan.

If he tried to attack her, she could defend herself and hurt him enough to get away. She could do that. She knew he was a strange man who thought her amusing enough to condone her arguments. But now that she didn't have words to spare for him, she wondered what his behavior towards her would be.

Ladislas, who was outside, rushed into the kitchen and thanked his luck that Penelope had left some pot roast from last night. He opened the refrigerator and peered inside. He wasn't used to cooking, though he had learned over the years of his existence. He also couldn't cook for one person, so he took the pot roast and put it on the stove to heat.

CREATORS' THOUGHTS
SunScar9

I wanted to write a superhero/supervillain story. And I ended up writing about a plain old hero who we never hear about. Being a secret agent is hard... I can't emphasize the number of dangers and the addictions they develop in order to stay in their role and do their work. So, what do you think?

Smash that vote button for the algorithm. Let's crawl to the top!

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