Chapter 7: Isn't it Lovely?

Sienna

I wake up to birds chirping and the sun shining brightly through the sheer curtain around the window. It's terrible. The world's happy today, not caring how others feel. It's selfish like that. Raining on birthdays and shining on funerals. It's unfair.

"Good morning," a woman says. It's music to my ears. I haven't heard a woman's voice in forever.

I look at her. Her red hair is buzzed on the sides and cut short on the top. She has a lip piercing that winks at me and she continuously smiles. She's wearing blue glasses that frame her big, brown eyes that are filled with kindness. Kindness. The world doesn't like kind.

It likes survivors. It likes strong people who do whatever it takes to live. It wants people to live, but that doesn't mean it'll make it easy. No. The world gets bored and decides to make hardships and watch people suffer. It's always the kind, weak ones who go first. Isn't it lovely?

Soon her smile turns into a frown. "Can you hear me?” She asks. “Yesterday you were ignoring me, but is that because you’re deaf?"

Oh, the naivety. Like come on.

"If I was deaf, then that whole conversation would've been pointless,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Way to waste your breath." I’m sure she would’ve been great to be friends with, but her act of stupidity just turned me away. Besides, you don’t need friends in death.

She looks startled, before another smile makes it way on her face. Okay now that I've seen a woman. I want it to be over. She's too smiley and who is she anyway?

"Oh, Gina!" A voice calls. One of the men from yesterday, Dean, barges in.

"Dean!" She squeals and hugs him. I want to throw up at the sight. Call me bitter, but hugs are useless.

Unless they're to crush the soul out of your opponent.

Doesn't look like any soul-crushing is going on here.

I watch as Dean grabs her face in between his hands, and she looks at him with so much...love in her eyes. A blush makes its way on her pale face, but he seems unaffected.

"You smell lovely today, Gina." He says making me grimace. I mean what the heck? I watch astonished as Gina blushes harder. Harder!? That was a compliment? Him smelling you isn't weird?

"Did you use a new perfume perhaps?" He questions still in her red, blubbering face.

"Yes,” she says bashfully. “Do you like it?"

He seems to think about it, before dropping his hands and stepping back. Casually, he puts his hands in his pockets. "I've smelled worse."

A snort makes it way out of me before I could stop it. Here he was. Wooing the panties off of Gina. Only to insult her at the end.

Except Gina doesn't seem insulted. No, she looks delighted. As though that was the best compliment, he could ever give her.

"Thanks," she beams.

He waves her off and smirks. "Yeah, no problem.” He genuinely sounds like it was no problem for him. "Anyways, I gotta take Sienna to the War room. She good to go?"

Gina nods, opening her checklist. "Yep she's good as new. It's quite strange really. I won-"

"That's great Gina. I really couldn't have done this without you," he says cutting her off and ushering her to the door. She tries to say something, but he closes the door. He did it gently though, so that's a plus.

With Gina out the room, I let loose my laughter. "You're a terrible person," I manage to say between my fits.

He pretends to be offended, "I am not. I complimented her and she loves me."

"You literally insulted her. She just didn't get it," my laughter immediately stops, "Should I be worried that she was my doctor?"

He shrugs his shoulders and chuckles, the sound washing over me like a cold shower on a hot day. "I know she started going to school for it. But hey, if you grow tentacles, that'd be wicked." He smiles wistfully as if imagining it.

"Mmm, yeah,” I murmur. “I could grab my victims from across the room and kill them without lifting a finger." I look specifically at him and wait for him to get it.

"Ohhhh. The victim being me,” he laughs, dragging out the letter ‘e.’ He points a finger at himself and then looks smug. "I wouldn't make it easy for you."

"It's no fun when it's easy," I smirk.

He looks out the window before looking back at me with his hands in his pocket. "You know, for someone who wants to die, you sure are cheerful. Cracking jokes and laughing."

I sigh and look away from him. Instead, I focus on my reflection in the T.V. My hair lays in frizzy curls around my face and it's on the verge of becoming an Afro. That's all I can really make out in the T.V.

"I'm tired of a lot of stuff,” I sigh sadly. “But crying might take the cake. I'm surprised I'm not out of tears. Crying doesn't do anything and when I do get emotional enough to cry, well, I'll let it come. No reason to sit here sad when I'll be free soon." I have a feeling Cole hates me enough to kill me.

"So what? Live happy until you can't live anymore?" He's intensely serious and I don't like the change in mood.

I shrug, unsure of what else to do. "Yeah I guess."

"You destroyed so many people's lives," he reminds, his voice shaky now. It’s hateful. I hate it. "What makes you believe you get the right to live happy when you destroyed theirs?"

Though my mouth opens, nothing comes out. I have no idea. I can't stop myself. The only way this would be over, would be if I was dead. And no one around here seems to be willing to do that. So, I think of an answer that's untrue, but would upset him off.

I smile cruelly at him. "Maybe if you see me happy and thriving, you'll snap and kill me."

He furrows his brows before smirking at me. "We're stronger than that."

I roll my eyes. Now I'm upset. "What are you doing in here?" I ask, wanting to be left alone.

"Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “We're having a meeting in the War room. Let's go." He walks away from the window and walks out the room. I sigh and count how many seconds it takes for him.

He walks back in with an embarrassed smile. Is this guy always smiling? "Oh right. You're still tied up."

He takes a key out of his back pocket before coming over to the bed. Instead of unlocking the handcuffs on the side like a normal person, he gets on top of me straddling my waist.

Two guys in the span of 12 hours. Wow Sienna.

He looks down at me and gives me a devilish grin. One that makes me want to risk it all and cheat on my politician of a husband. I don't even have a husband. His smell reaches my noise and I take a deep breath. It makes me squirm. So that's what's up with the smells being compliments. He reaches across and unlocks my left arm letting it drop. Blood rushes through, and I can feel my hands again. When he unlocks the other one, I rub my wrists with my hands.

"When do we have to be there?" I ask looking up at him.

He frowns, "Now, why?"

"Just wondering if there was time for us to play," I tease.

He takes it entirely serious though. "I don't fuck murderers."

The curse makes me wince. "I only do murderers."

He gets off me and heads to the door. I get up and stretch, allowing for my blood to be reacquainted with gravity.

"You need higher standards." He says as we walk down the hallway. We pass buy multiple rooms before getting to an elevator. We step inside and I wait for the music to play. To my dismay there is none.

I think back on all my past lovers and realize that yes, I do need higher standards. Everyone I've ever lain with has been a criminal. Whether that's a murderer or a thief. My first and only boyfriend was the son of a gang leader.

Maybe if they let me out I can find myself a nice man who works at McDonalds. Does that count as an upgrade?

My thoughts end when we walk into an open living room. Couches are facing us and I can hear a T.V playing. We walk past the living room into a kitchen.

"I thought we were going to the War Room," I say, admiring the kitchen

"I'm hungry," he mumbles before grabbing an apple. He offers one silently, but I decline.

Though I do love apples, Asma will never give me the chance to eat one again. Not after the accident when I was younger. “I’m allergic,” I tell him.

He looks alarmed before looking down at the apple in his hand.

"It's fine you can still eat it," I reassure. “Asma won’t hurt you.”

His shoulders sag in relief and we make our way back to the elevator.