'Scars' (Polopocalypse and Battleaxe) - Mature Content

((Listen to 'Someday you will be loved' by Death Cab for Cutie while you read it. I don't know why, but it kinda sets the mood... ))

[[I did. Kind of depressing, but good xD And oh yeah. We're cool. I gave myself a pat on the back and people are looking at me weird O.o]]

Oh God. That was all Kelli could think as she watched Mitch get ready to attack Carter. She felt the man tense up behind her, knowing full and well he wasn't going to get out with a scratch. He also knew it would probably be best to give her back.
Slowly, he loosened the pressure of the knife on her neck, letting it clatter to the ground between her legs. A thin trail of blood trickled down from mthe small cut, staining the top of the shirt. She shivered as she felt him breathe once down her neck and felt grateful when he stood up, leaving her behind. Matches was going to hurt him, and badly. She didn't want to see.
Cowardly, she pulled her knees up to her face and squeezed her eyes shut, straining not to hear, not to see anything that was going to happen. She tried not to cry, but regardless, tears were falling down her face, splattering the dusty ground and washing away some of the grime. Why was she like this? She hated seeing anyone in pain, even if they did deserve it like Carter did. And she especially didn't want to see Mitch - her beloved Mitch - inflict it.
It seemed too dark. Too sinister.
She closed off her senses and hummed a song quietly to herself, shouting the words inside her head, letting the echo and reecho, splitting her skull.

Here I am, once again.
I'm torn into pieces, here tonight,
Can't pretend.
Just thought you were the one.
Broken up, deep inside.
But you won't get to see
The tears I cry.

Carter stood warily behind the table, nervously flexing his fingers. He was going to be burned. How much, he didn't know. Hopefully he'd only be able to get away with just a little.
"Boss wanted all hostages brought to him. Remember?"

When Carter released Kelli, Mitch grabbed her by the collar, and flung her round behind him - putting himself between her and Carter. He didn't intend to be so rough with her, but he had no choice. Carter was watching.
At the man's words, Mitch's temper snapped once and for all.
"F**k the boss, you stupid, ass-kissing little mother f**ker! He answers to me in the end, and you know it! Just 'cause I don't give a f**k about leading doesn't change the facts, man. And the fact is I'm the most feared bastard in this gang!" He flung himself at Carter, tackling the other man against the wall. Mitch's hand closed around his throat, and he lifted the man up on one arm, pinning him back against the same wall that he had just smashed into. "And there's a f**king good reason for it..." He growled, "If you don't want to experience it firsthand, I suggest you tuck your cowardly tail between your legs, and run the f*ck away - because if I ever catch you in my line of sight again, I will personally burn every inch of your skin so badly that you'll be trapped inside it, forced to die slowly and painfully on your knees, and with your pride in my pocket."
He flipped open the lighter, and held it so close to Carter's eyes that it singed his eyebrows. On the other side of the flame, Mitch's wide eyes reflected the fire - gleaming with madness as he smelt the putrid scent of burning hair.
"Is that clear?" He finished finally, dropping Carter to the ground like a filthy, stinking dead rat.

Kelli yelped as Mitch yanked her out of her position and threw her against the counter, banging her head on the wall. Colors swarmed around her, bringing tears into her eyes. The sounds were all mixed, but she could clearly hear Mitch's threats to the other man.
His tone of voice frightened her. They made her feel so vulnerable and weak and pathetic and defenseless. For all she knew, when he was done with Carter, there would still be some bloodlust left and he would turn on her...
The thought made her cringe and curl up into a tight little ball. She wanted to run, but she couldn't not with the world spinning around her as it was in that instant. She saw three Mitches, three tiny dancing flames, three terrified Carters. This wasn't normal. Slowly, after attemtpting to pick herself up, she slumped back to the ground, breathing faintly.

Carter narrowed his eyes and snorted. "Right." His knee flashed out and landed directly in Matches' crotch, sending a vibration up his leg. He tried to make a dash for the door, eyebrows seniging wailing pain signals up to his brain.
He wasn't going to let Matches treat him this way, even if he was so much more prestigious. Besides, if he could become more powerful than the other man, what would it do for him politically?
Instantly, he thought of all the spoils of gang life he'd get and grinned, striding over to the set of drawers and yanking them open, spilling their contents until he came across a knife. Grabbing it, he admired the shininess before turning back to Matches, his intent clear.

Before he even had a chance to register what was happening, Mitch felt a bolt of pain surge through him. He grunted, groaned, and dropped to the ground - face contorted in pain. Tiny white dots flashed before his eyes, he heard ringing in his ears, and tasted bile at the back of his throat. He wondered if he would pass out, or throw up...
But then he saw a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye, and knew that he would be doing neither.
Forcing the pain aside, he heaved himself to his feet - using the kitchen counter for support, and 'accidentally' knocking over the fruit bowl.
In amidst the dull thuds of apples, oranges and banas falling to the floor, there was a heavy metallic bang.
Carter was nearly upon him with the knife now, and he was still seeing double - but it was no matter, for what he held in his hand would solve everything...
Which wheeled to face his attacker, and found Carter's chest conveniently close to him as the man drew back an arm to stab. Mitch raised his hand, now firmly clasped around the handle of the pistol that he had snatched from the fruit bowl, but before he could shoot, Carter's knife darted toward him like a striking snake. Mitch managed to squirm out of the way just enough that it missed his throat - but he paid for it with a nasty gash in the shoulder.
With a furious growl like a wounded beast, Mitch pressed the gun to Carter's chest, and shot. And shot. And shot... With every pull of the trigger, warm blood burst from the man's body, soaking his hands, spattering his face.
With every bullet shudding into flesh, the body jerked and convulsed with dead energy that Mitch found savagely enthralling.
For quite some time, the air was wrought with the thunder of gunshots - then, finally, they stopped. The gun answered the trigger's summons instead with an unhealthy click, indicating that it was out of ammunition, and Mitch took this as his cue to stop.
He dropped the gun, and stood there panting - staring down at the mangled body of his former gang member.
This was exactly why he liked to avoid having a 'place' in the gang... It was why he had never wanted to lead it - because of troublesome fools like Carter trying to hound easy glory.

A nasty, deep gash ran from Mitch's shoulder to the top of his chest, just below his collar bone. The blood traced the deep lines between his well-formed muscles, and followed the contours of his arm to drip from his fingertips. The injury was bad, and he found that he could barely move his arm - perhaps due to some severed nerve or muscle - but at the same time, it seemed he had barely noticed the wound. He didn't even know it was there.
Instead, he looked at Kelli, panting, and felt a little part of him die at the sight of the fear in her eyes.
Untriumphantly victorious, Mitch watched her searchingly - just waiting for what had knew was coming. Waiting for her to run from him, or to hate him... To condemn him for being who he had become.

((Too tired. Going to sleep.

Sorry about killing Carter, but Mitch has to be badass. XD It's a big gang, so we have a limitless supply of random gangster prop characters. ))

[[Haha, it's cool. I was gonna suggest you kill him anyway Go to bed. I'll get a good reply in then haha.]]

Trying not to watch, Kelli found herself staring at the violent scene unfolding before her, her horror growing as she realized this feud would be deadly. Carter had crossed a sort of invisible boundary when he outright attacked Matches, and she knew that he would never let it go. He was too proud, and that was foolish of him. He had so much to learn about how to resolve conflicts…
Watching in despair as Matches feel to the ground writhing in agony, she wanted so desperately to help him, but she was paralyzed by her own pain. The room had not yet stopped spinning, nor had the colors stopped mingling and washing around her mind. Her hearing and vision were still distorted, and reality seemed like a dream. A horrifying nightmare, but nevertheless, it was still just a dream.
As the events unfolded before her, Kelli felt a familiar twist in her gut. She had just enough time to lean to the side a throw up so she didn’t get it all over Mitch’s clothes. She didn’t want to inconvenience him – although she technically already had.
She wanted to laugh at that, but she couldn’t.
Kelli had just enough time to look back up at the struggling boys and register Matches’ hateful expression filled with sadistic glee as he finally dominated the other boy, firing his gun directly into Carter’s chest. Once. Twice. Three times.
She stopped keeping track because the blood was spurting everywhere, covering Matches and the walls and even herself.
That made her wasn’t to throw up again.
Finally the gun stopped shooting and the man let it fall, breathing hard and probably relishing in his victory. Who wouldn’t be? A normal, sane person, her mind answered for her.
A warm liquid seeped down her head, dampening her hair and back. She realized it must have been blood from when she was flung against the wood.
Frowning, she stood up, wobbling slightly as she approached Matches – or was it Mitch? She still couldn’t tell – and walked past him to look at the body.
“You missed a spot.” She mumbled weakly, looking back up at him, something not quite right about her expression.

[[Nice thing to say Kell-bell...]]

((At school, so no time for long reply. Nice, Kelli. ))

Mitch watched as Kelli approached him - studying her expression, though he did not understand what it meant. She stared at the body for a while, and he followed her gaze, watching the thing that had once been his ally melting away into his carpet, staining it an ugly shade of red.
“You missed a spot.” Kelli mumbled - and though it was an amusing thing to say, he did not hear the humour in her voice. He met her gaze, and held it silently - unsure of what to do or say.
"Yes..." He murmured at long last, looking back at the body. "That I did..." He studied it a while, then shrugged and walked off a short distance. He opened the hallway cupboard, and took out a sheet, which he tossed over the corpse - hiding its uncomfortable presence. He would get rid of it later, after tending to his wounds... And, he realised, after giving Kelli a brief once-over, After tending to her wounds, too...
"I warned him." Mitch growled softly, as though this was a valid excuse for what he had done.
It wasn't. He knew that... But why did he even need an excuse? This was who he was, now.
"You're hurt..." He whispered, stepping toward Kelli, and examining her wounds with concerned eyes. His hands stayed firmly at his sides... She would not want him to touch her after that, he was sure.
"Lie down on the couch." He encouraged gently, "I'll clean myself up and see what I can do for you."
He nodded briefly to her, then turned away to enter the bathroom - immediately heading to the basin, and starting to scrub the blood from his hands. His own wound could wait for later. As long as his hands were appropriately clean, he could try to help Kelli.

"How do you feel?" He asked, walking back over to her, and sitting on the arm of the couch. He was acting kind, but brusque and efficient. He offered no indication of wanting to discuss what had just happened. He just brushed it off, and focused on the matter at hand... But there was an odd detachment in his actions.
It was hard to imagine that just a moment before they'd had such a connection... Such depth of emotion between them... Now everything was like a dream, and he acted like a polite stranger - because he didn't know what else to do with himself.
Did he apologise? Sh*t, he could barely remember how... Well, best give it a try.
"I'm sorry." He murmured earnestly, bowing his head - and finally, he began to look like Mitch again - the violent harshness of Matches gone from his eyes. "I didn't mean any of that, I'm sure you know that... And I never meant to hurt you, but... I couldn't raise suspicion..."

Kelli nodded when Mitch asked if she was okay. Thank God if was Mitch again, not Matches. The boy's alter ego scared her out of her wits, and she had no reason to be ashamed of that. That pretty much happened to everyone.
Sighing, she went into the living room and spread herself on the couch, involuntarily reach up and wiping away some of the blood dripping down from the wound on her neck. She stopped herself, though. Mitch said he'd take care of it.
Frowning as she watched him disappear into the bathroom.

As he came back out, Kelli watched him with different eyes. Her expression had changed because she knew that it was Mitch now. For one, he was caring about helping and her appearance. Two, he was actually not bothering about helping his own wound first.
"Mitch, go help your arm. It looks pretty bad." She said worriedly, frowning. She tried sitting up, but a pain shot through her skull, sending white hot flashes down the rest of her weary body.
"Not a goo idea." She muttered to herself, lying back down and squeezing her eyes closed for a moment. After a second, she reopened them and examined the man above her, apologizing profusely. After a moment of indesicion, she decided to say something.
"Mitch, that wasn't you. At least not the you that I knew." She snorted at the acidental rhyme, but kept a straight face.
"You," she gestured to his whole body, "don't scare me. The person that killed Carter does."

"It's just a scratch." Mitch retorted, shrugging his injury off as though it was nothing - which it was not... But the fact remained, it was not all that important to him at that moment.
He looked more carefully at Kelli's wound, then muttered something to himself, and retrieved a basic first aid kit from one of the cupboards in the kitchen.
He returned to Kelli's side, and set to work treating the cut as best he could. It was no secret that he was better at hurting people than helping them, but he did his best.
Once the cut had been cleaned, disinfected and bandaged, he went back to the kitchen to fetch a bag of ice for Kelli's head. Head wounds always bled a lot - he knew that from experience - but they were seldom as bad as they looked. If he hadn't known that, he might have been freaking out...
As he tossed her the bag of ice, Kelli spoke again, "Mitch, that wasn't you. At least not the you that I knew."
He swallowed, and looked away - unwilling to meet her eye.
That was what he had been trying to tell her all along... He wasn't the same boy she knew. He had taken on the world, and survived, but he had lost himself along the way...
Hell, until he'd found Kelli, he had thought that this side of him was dead and gone.
"You," she gestured toward him, "don't scare me. The person that killed Carter does."
At these words, Mitch's eyes darted to Carter's corpse, hidden by the sheet - which was now blooming red roses on the clean whiteness.
"I didn't kill him." Mitch growled bitterly, "He killed himself. He should know better than to f**k with me."
Funny... The tone he used was the exact same one that the supervisors at the orphanage had used when they'd told him not to play with fire...
If you played with fire, you got burnt. If only Carter had understood that...
"But I understand what you're saying." He sighed, sitting heavily back down on the arm of the couch. "I'm in over my head - it's like I can't even trust myself any more... And things will only get worse from here." He chuckled slightly, then got to his feet and shook his head. "Well, you know what? It's all worth it to see you again. At least when I'm around you, I can still feel..." He paused a moment, "Human."
With that, he shrugged his uninjured shoulder - the other one refused to lift - and glanced over himself. He was covered in blood... Some Kelli's, more his own... But if he had to hazard a guess, he thought that most was Carter's.
"Guess I'd better wash up again..." He commented mildly, sighing in irritation.

((Sorry, that was terrible, can't get my head in the game. :/ ))

[[Dude I know how you feel. I'll try and make it interesting xD]]

Kelli frowned at his words. Mitch seemed so distracted and angry and filled with turmoil. That was never a good thing, because the two sides of him would battle over him and soon it would be pretty unstoppable when he became one of them. She could only hope he'd let the good side defeat the bad, the Mitch dominate the Matches.
Sighing, she got up and grabbed his waist, pushing him back down onto the couch. "You're not going anywhere, buddy."
With that, she walked briskly into the kitchen - avoiding Carter's manled corpse - and grabbed a washcloth and a two dishes. She filled one with warm water and one with cold, shuddering as the icy liquid spilled onto her torso. That would take a while to dry. Sighing, she grabbed a couple more towels and brought the supplies back over to Mitch, where he was lying down.
Biting her lip, Kelli tried to determine where to start. He was cut high up on the shoulder, so she needed to help with that first. That meant pulling off his shirt.
Rolling her eyes, she told Mitch to sit up so she could do this. When he did, she tried to yank it off, but it was so covered in blood and sweat, it stuck to his body. Grunting, she grabbed a knife from the table and sliced the garment down the front, peeling it off of his scarred torso.
The sight of Mitch's chest made her gasp again, even though she'd already seen it. Instead of being clean, it was covered in filth that showed he'd recently been through a fight. That made him seem more intimidating, which was pretty impressive.
Frowning, Kelli threw the shirt onto the ground and soaked a washcloth in the warm water. Gently, she wiped away the blood gushing from the knife would. What she saw made her heart drop.
It was deep, the gash biting through even the muscle. He would need stitches. Her college courses so far had taught her the rudimentary nurse tasks, aso she knew some basic stitching knowledge. She didn't know if she could do it though.
Deciding to set the problem aside for the moment, she wrapped a dry towel over it and tied it to his arm, using her elastic headband to do it. Dipping yet another towel in the warm water, she rinsed the rest of his body, wiping away all signs of recent battle. It was so funny how he could go from tiger deadly to kitten gentle in a matter of minutes.
As she finished wiping the last of the blood away from his chest, Kelli looked back up at Mitch's eyes, watching them intently. "You need stitches." She said decisively.

[[Best I could do? ]]

((Naaaaw, Kitten Mitch. Hehe! ))

Mitch reluctantly lay back on the couch at Kelli's order, though he would rather have just got up and taken another shower. Still, he humoured her, and glared at the ceiling as he waited for her to return.
He did not have to wait long.
When she returned, he sat up obediently, and allowed her to cut away his shirt. It was amazing that, after all the world had taught him, he could still be so comfortable with a knife that close to him. He didn't even flinch - he trusted Kelli completely.
He watched curiously as she began cleaning the dried blood and sweat away from his chest - his eyes following her progress with a gentle, grateful warmth.
He could have done this himself, but he really appreciated the fact that Kelli was willing to do it for him, even after all that had happened...
It really meant a lot to him, just how much she cared.
He shiverred slightly as the cold washcloth swiped over the wound again, and a stray droplet of water escaped to trickle with taunting iciness right down to his thigh.
Soon enough, perhaps too soon for him, Kelli had finished - and Mitch was left watching her placidly, with one eyebrow questioningly raised as he dripped onto the couch.
The pressure of the towel against the wound was comforting, and he was already feeling a great deal better.
He even felt vaguely warm inside - though he guessed that had more to do with Kelli's gentle care than it did the stemmed flow of blood.
"You need stitches." Kelli concluded at last, meeting his eyes with intensity.
"No I don't." Mitch responded casually, as though it was just an everyday conversation topic to be debated. "I'm a man." He pointed out, in a voice that sounded more like a sulky child, "I'll just walk it off, it'll be fine."
He shrugged, though only his good shoulder responded, then he smiled meaningfully at Kelli. "Hey... Thanks." He murmured softly, "I- Nobody's actually... Cared for me in a long time." He swallowed, and reached out for her hand - squeezing her fingers gently. "It really means a lot."

[[So cute :3]]

Kelli frowned at his denial, knowing it was no use to argue with him. If he wanted to be a man, then fine. He could let her do the stitching and deal with the unnecessary pain of terrible stitches. See if that would make him feel any better.
Snorting, she was about to voice her idea when he started talking yet again. Would he ever learn to shut his trap and listen for just a minute?
"Hey... Thanks."
That was very unlike him. Usually he never said please and thank you for anything. Normally she would have interpretted this as sarcasm, but he seemed sincere enough. Cautiously, she placed the cool rag over his forehead in case he had a temperature. That was the only reasonable explanation she could come up with for his strange behavior.
"I- Nobody's actually... Cared for me in a long time."
"I can understand." Kelli murmured sympathetically as she stood up, the couch shifting as her weight disappeared. "Wait here."
Quietly, she padded into his bedroom and pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows, making sure they were okay for Mitch. They stank pretty badly, but she would have to take care of those another time. But right now, she needed Mitch to get some sleep. She knew that she herself needed some. It'd been at least 20 hours since she'd gotten any, and fatigue was already beginning to settle in. Her eyelids fluttered shut from time to time and it was harder and harder to stay awake. All she wanted to do was collapse on the ground and start snoring.
Sighing, Kelli walked back to the room where Mitch lay and motioned for him to get up.
"Come on, big boy. You're going to bed." She chuckled and offered a hand.

((Indeed. ))

Mitch grunted, and shook his head in disagreement at Kelli's suggestion."You're going to bed." He corrected, "I've got to take care of this thing before it starts stinking up the place." He nodded to indicate Carter's corpse, then heaved himself to his feet with a weary sigh. It was just an everyday hassle... Just taking out the trash.
When he reached Carter, he grabbed the man's sheet-clad arm, and began hauling him upwards. He was, quite literally, a dead weight - and Mitch was surprised by how heavy he was.
He folded his arms around the chest of the corpse, but as he tried to lift it up, he instantly dropped it like a hot potato, and cursed curiously - clenching his teeth, and clutching his injured shoulder.
F**k, that hurt!
Trying to ignore the sudden shaking in his injured arm, he struggled to lift Carter with just one arm. Eventually, he managed, hauling the thing over his good shoulder. Sweaty and red-faced, he carrier Carter outside and dumped him in a dumpster across the street. He stared down at the dead man for a moment... The sheet had slipped away to reveal his pale face, and Mitch examined it with a blank expression.
Finally, he tossed a lit match into the dumpster, and turned back toward the house.

When he entered, he walked over to Kelli - perching on the arm of the couch again, as was his custom, and rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "I think you should take the bed for tonight." He decided at last, "I know it's a bit weird, but after what happened, I won't sleep well knowing you're out here. At least if we swap around - then if somebody does break in, I'll see them first. I'm a light sleeper."
He shrugged, then cursed under his breath when the severed muscle in his injured shoulder began to spasm and twitch horribly in an attempt to obey his instruction. He clapped a hand tightly over the bandage to still it as his entire arm began to twitch, fingers curling and straightening without his consent. "This is some really f**ked up sh*t." He grunted, staring at his shoulder in utter disgust, as though it was something filthy he'd picked off the sole of his shoe.

Kelli shook her head when Mitch said that she was actually the one who was going to bed. No, she wasn't. He was. But he'd already began walking to Carter's corpse, picking up the dead man unceremoniously and trying to haul him out the door. Too bad his injured arm wasn't cooperating. As she sat there with a smirk on her face, she tried not to let her brain register the mangled body. It was just a sack of potatoes. Yes, that was all it was.
Weird. Why did Mitch have a sack of potatoes in his house?
Sighing, she watched as he clutched his shaking arm. That was the nerves, trying to figure out what had happened to have cut them off from the rest of the body. They would continue to do that - and get orse - if he didn't get stitches!
Irritably, she found herself grinding her teeth just as Mitch found a way to haul the sack of potatoes over his shoulder and carry it out the door to the dumpster. Why would he do that?
They had to be rotten.

Kelli watched Mitch as he entered the room, sitting on the arm of the couch next to her. He looked thoughtful, and not at all troubled about what just gone out to do. The sack of potatoes excuse was not working at all in her mind.
"I think you should take the bed for tonight."
She wrinkled her nose in disgust, recalling the stench. That was just one reason she wouldn't be able to sleep in there. The bed was too big, the lighting too off, and the atmosphere was just... sinistere. It felt like a lot of things had happened there.
Frowning, she began to shake er head in protest when he explained himself.
"I know it's a bit weird, but after what happened, I won't sleep well knowing you're out here. At least if we swap around - then if somebody does break in, I'll see them first. I'm a light sleeper."
Sighing in irritation, she decided not to answer to him right then. It was no use arguing.
"Mitch, I'm going to stitch you up. Where's your first aid kit?" She demanded.

(('Curious' in the previous post was supposed to be 'Furious'. XD LMAO! ))

"Eh?" Mitch grunted, slightly confused by the sudden change of topic. "Oh, um..." He frowned, then finally gathered his scattered thoughts, and answered, "It's in the kitchen, but you don't have to do that..." He glanced toward his arm.
"It's just a little cut. I'll be fine."
But obviously, she was having none of it. She had already left to fetch the first aid kit.
He sighed, and slipped onto the main seat of the couch, slumping lazily against the back rest.
Kelli did not seem pleased with his suggestion... But then how was he supposed to keep her safe? He supposed he could just keep watch during the night. He didn't mind - but if he was tired come tomorrow, it might make the gang suspicious of him... Then again, maybe he was just being paranoid? They didn't pay that much attention to him...
He sighed, frowning deeply at the thought of the gang meeting the next day.
He didn't want to meet with them... He didn't want to be a part of all that any more - not now that he had Kelli back... But he knew better than anybody that there was no way out of a gang. It wasn't a job that a person could just resign from...

[[Lmao. I was just like ...what?]]

Kelli walked into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cabinets, opening it up on one of the counters to see what lay within. The were two sterile needles, two packets of sterile stitching yarn, some scissors, a few bandaids, some numbing pads, and a lighter. The last item was particularly curious. She wanted to pick it up and examine it, but she restrained herself. She merely closed the kit and returned to the living room, sitting on top of Mitch and pushing him down.
Taking off the bandage, she washed away more of the blood and threw the blood soaked towel on the ground, pressing a fresh one to the wound. Biting her lip, she opened the needle and thread and set to work, taking off the old towel and knotting the thread in the needle. She opened a numbing pad and rubbed the contents onto the wound - which probably would sting - but it was better than feeling the needle pierce his skin.
Sighing, Kelli tossed the pad onto the ground and set to work, watching the needle disappear into the skin on one side of the wound and reappearing on the other. It was kind of fascinating in a gruesome way. Carefully, she began to get the hang of it, and threading through Mitch's torn skin was getting easier and eaier. Finally she was done.
Knotting the end of the string like school had taught her, Kelli grabbed the scissors and snipped the end of the thick black thread off, watching it fall to the ground. Getting up and examining her work critically, she saw that the stitches were uneven. Frowning, she said, "It'll be another ugly scar to add to your collection."
She started to clean up, throwing the dirty towels into the basn in the sink and tying a cleaan one to the stitches where blood seeped between them. She put the first aid kit back together and returned it to the kitchen, biting her lip.
"Mitch, wouldn't it seem suspicious if someone from the gang broke in, saw you lying on the couch and me in your bed?" Gathering up the courage, she continued on, "If you want the whole 'prostitute' thing to work, it would have to be the other way around or something."

((Hehe Sorry. XD ))

Mitch watched in masochistic fascination as the needle darted in and out of his torn skin, the thread pulling the lips of the wound together. The numbing pad had helped, but he could still feel it... The pain was dull, but there - it was a sickening sensation, but oh, how he relished it...
He admired the stitches when Kelli was done, turning his arm this way and that to study them from every angle.
He liked the jagged effect... It suited him.
"It'll be another ugly scar to add to your collection." Kelli pointed out, but Mitch just laughed. "I've got no problem with scars. Scars are sexy." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a teasing smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.
He shook his head, chuckling softly to himself, then smiled at Kelli again - thinking over what she had said.
"Mitch, wouldn't it seem suspicious if someone from the gang broke in, saw you lying on the couch and me in your bed? If you want the whole 'prostitute' thing to work, it would have to be the other way around or something."
He frowned slightly, biting his lip, then shook his head and answered, "That ain't gonna work anyway. I don't do whores." He shrugged, "It'll be suspicious no matter what. The only thing that'd work is if I said I snapped you up from the building to f**k you and kill you - because there's no way I could let some random chick leave here alive - and then we'd be screwed anyway if they came back and saw you still alive. In fact, we're screwed no matter what, because anybody worth a damn in that gang knows that rape just ain't my scene..." He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "We just gotta hope we don't get caught - and if we do, we'll have no choice but to run. For now, my main priority is to make sure nobody can sneak in and stab you while I'm sleeping." He paused momentarily, a slight frown on his face - as though he didn't fully understand what he was about to say.
"I just... I dunno, I care about you, I guess. I don't want you to get hurt, okay? But whatever, it's your choice."
He huffed an irritable sigh and got to his feet, stalking over to the kitchen and snatching his lighter off the floor. He had dropped it when Carter had kneed him in the crotch... Bloody arsehole.
With another huff, he snatched up the lighter and lit himself a joint - more for something to do than because he had any real intention of getting high.

Kelli rolled her eyes at Mitch's bluntness. It was a good thing he didn't do rape, because if there was one thing she couldn't stand about a guy, that was it. Thinking they owned the world and could do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted to girls.
Sighing, she sat down on the couch and rubbed her temples. She wanted to help, but she didn't know how. This whole gang mess was so confusing. She knew nothing of how it operated and nothing of its consequences. Well, except that breaking into someone's house was a justifiable reason for killing them.
She wished she could go back to her old life, where it was so much simpler. So much easier. One that wasn't filled with raging violence and unrest or anger and old scars. One where none of this behavior was socially acceptable at all. One where she could walk around in the daylight without the fear of being brutally killed. Absently, she wondered if she'd ever be able to go outside again. Well, that was a depressing thought.
But that life was also a life without Mitch. Was she willing to sacrifice everything she knew anad take up a life of running, terror, and hiding to be with her long lost friend? She wanted to be able to say yes with iron resolve, but something was stopping her. She wanted to go out and experience the world. She wanted to get married, have a family, come home from work to a nice little house with a white picket fence and a dog named Fido.
If she stayed with Mitch, she'd get none of that.
Biting her lip in indecision, she got up and walked into the kitchen, yanking the joint from Mitch's mouth and putting it into her own, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. The sensation was pleasant, like she was floating on air. She wasn't completely off her head yet, which was good, but it gave everything a dream like quality, as if she wasn't really there. That was what she needed right now.

When Kelli yanked the joint from his mouth, Mitch was surprised at first, but when she took a puff of it, a dark grin formed on his face. With a quiet bark of laughter, he stepped deliberately forward, and ran his hands through Kelli's soft blonde ((My spell check says 'blond' doesn't have an 'e' on the end, but I am just not cool with that!!! D: Am I going crazy...? o_0 ... Help... Me...)) hair.
He stood close to her, head bowed so he could look down at her, and meet her eyes. His lips were twisted to one side in a crooked grin.
That attitude of hers, that fire... He loved it! The thought brought another bark of dark laughter to his lips, but this time he took a step away, smirking in that deadly way of his.
"If you're going to start doing bad things," he said softly, raising an eyebrow at her, "I'll have you know that I, for one, am far from good." He winked suggestively, then smiled and shook his head, releasing a tiny snort of amusement. "Here." He said, tossing her his lighter, "Enjoy yourself."
With that, he flashed a grin and turned away - walking off to his bedroom. It was getting cold, and he wanted a shirt.
He found one, and managed to tug it over his injured shoulder with difficulty. Once he was fully dressed, he walked back out to check on Kelli, curious to see what she'd be like when she was high.
He couldn't remember what he was like when he wasn't...

[[Dude. It's totally blonde with an 'e'. Your spell check is wacko o.O I'll be back at about 11:45 my time, so 7:45 Polo time ^^ Don't go anywhere!!! I really awnt to reply so badly but I have to leave Dx]]

((I know, right?! I KNEW I was right!!!
I won't go anywhere. See you soon.

Haha, I keep staring at my avatar when I read this RP. XD I do love how 'Mitchy' it is - that is SO his evil smirk. *Pats self on back*))

[[Dude. I'm really pump for this. Like, you don't even know.]]

Kelli shivered as Mitch ran his fingers through her damp hair, relishing in thee tingles it sent down her spine. He felt so right in a world full of wrong. What was right, anyway? Whatever felt good at the moment. And Mitch was definitly feeling good.
She leaned forward pressing her body against his until he moved away to get dressed. No, he shouldn't do that. What was the point if he was just going to take off his clothes later? She chuckled and puffed again, not inhaling anything. One was already enough. She wanted to be perfectly sober for whatever would happen next, although she would certainly act like she wasn't. The world was still not that close to her, but closer than if she took another pull on the joint. Quietly, she moved to the couch and watched the cigarette burn, chemicals slowly drifting into the air. It was kind of transfixing the way the smoke floated off and just disappeared. Absently, she wondered what Mitch would do if she ran off. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd thought of that, although this time she began to ponder what would happen if they ran off together. Bonnie and Clyde - or something like that. She was too high - even though it really wasn't that high - to care.
When Mitch came back into the room, Kelli jumped up from the chair and moved slowly towards him, deliberately, like a lion hunting for its prey. as she did this, she slowly unzipped the sweater she'd been wearing and let it fall to the ground, revealing the lacy cami she'd been wearing after her shower. Her eyes bore into his, making her intentions clear.

[[*headdesk* Kelli, you slut.]]

((LMAO! XD Nice, Kelli. Nice.

Yes, I'm enjoying this RP a great deal. Even if my character has gone all soft and out of whack... XD ))

Mitch raised an eyebrow as Kelli stalked toward him, and his eyes followed the progress of her sweater as it dropped to the ground.
When he looked back up at her, he found her eyes locked with his.
It was obvious what she was thinking... And the thought slowly pulled his lips into a smirk.
"You know I was only joking, right?" He questioned softly, walking forward to meet her, and catching her shoulders in his hands just before their bodies were about to collide.
He licked his lips, and let his hands creep up her neck until his fingers twisted in her hair again.
He bent his head forward slightly until his forehead just brushed hers, and his breath warmed her face.
For a long moment he stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on Kelli's with challenging intensity.
He wanted her - that much was obvious - but he refused to take it any further.

Slowly, Mitch pulled back, trailing one finger tauntingly over Kelli's cheek as he stepped away.
"You're high." He told her with a subtle smile. "And I'm not going to take advantage of you when I don't know how clearly you're thinking. I'm not that kinda guy." He winked at her, then turned away to emphasize his decision.
For now, the answer was no... Still - if this was how Kelli was when she was high... He approved. He approved completely. In fact, he could think of nothing he would approve of more.

Kelli let herself stopped when Mitch just held her, matching her breathing to his, her heartbeat to his. It seemed perfect in that moment, everything was right, nothing was messed up, it was just a girl and a boy crazy about each - or at least crazy.
She wrapped her arms over his neck and scraped her nails gently down his spine, watching his reaction carefully. She saw the fiery resolve in his eyes, though, and knew he wasn't going to do anything. Good.
Sighing, Kelli turned away in feigned reluctance just as he did, although she was secretly pleased with him. Not taking advantage of her. Maybe rape really wasn't his thing. She thought back to the bed. Maybe nothing terrible did happen there. In that case...

Walking around to the other side of him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him gently toward the bedroom, grabbing the sweater from off the floor and putting it on one arm. Frowning, she tried to get it on without letting go of Mitch's hand, but found it impossible. Still, she tried, even attempting to call on her 'sacred powers from above' to get it to work.
Cursing, she just dropped his hand, shoved her arm through the sleeve awkwardly, and took his hand again, opening the door to the bedroom and leaving him in the enterance.
Hopping under the covers - leaving enough room for Mitch - she said, "If you want to be a sissy, go ahead, but you don't need to sleep on the couch."
She shrugged and lay down, closing her eyes and pretending to be falling asleep - but really listening for his response to her.

[[Oh Kelli xD Stupid child. I think I've got an idea to get this thing moving again, but I have to go in ten minutes to a chocolate tasting thing xD Then I'm going to Church. Should be back be 5:45 my time, 1:45 Polo time ]]