Thread: Masquerading By Moonlight [Gypsy x Bishop]

Her heartbeat was the only sound she could hear, resonating in her ears amid his malicious speech. He spoke and he spoke, yet Juliet hardly comprehended what he imparted. None made sense. The charm this aristocrat possessed now warped into a miasma that frightened her. Her nostrils flared as he reached to touch her, her pulse pulsating rapidly as she refrained from flinching and spewing obscenities at him. Though before her control was severed, the world and her breath was yanked hastily beneath her. By design, she would have scrabbled for air, but that too was duly revoked from her when her limbs had been immobilized on her back once again. Struggle would have been futile, for his presence and weight was oppressive abaft her, curtailing any endeavor to move. He needn't paralyze her any longer as the sultry breath that heralded portentous confessions fanned over the side of her face. Fear gripped her spine, cold sweat diffusing throughout her form like the river brooks near her home. Ophelia's dead Ophelia's dead It chimed in her head akin to the prayers her mother ingrained within her in her younger days, echoing with no saving grace but imminent horror. Tears sprung in her eyes in full force once more, blurring her vision as she sobbed. Ophelia's dead, and now he wishes me to be his assistant no, his pet. The look Juliet sent him as he presented himself was one of disappointment, terror and odium. You speak of worth like you are worthy to take someone's life, as if you are suitable to take my friend's a beautiful girl's life, she spat, a quivering tremor in her speech born from both consternation and revulsion. You're not God. You're not mine, nor shall I be yours. I haven't the faintest idea of who Genevieve might be, but her desires and mine are not parallel in the slightest. Though if she loathes you like I do at this very moment, then we possess something similar after all. And that is a far more plausible claim than imagining anyone would want to be with a monster out of their own volition. Though her words were interposed with overwhelming sobs that rendered her dialogue nigh indistinguishable, Juliet fought to be understood. Only then did she resolve herself for her succeeding acts. A wave of courage flooded her as she vehemently yanked herself away from the bedpost, far enough that the leash grew taut and ripped the collar from her neck. Aware that it might harm her airflow, it was a better way to perish than in the hands of this delusional man. Just as she expected, the material dug to her throat, painfully so, yet it gave away and she was freed. In a whirlwind of adrenaline-induced movements, Juliet hurled herself hard against Virgil to knock him off his feet prior to fleeing from the windowless chamber in the only escape route she could discern. Her restrained limbs proved to be a hindrance in her endeavor, but she clambered atop the stairs in desperate haste. The door atop plummeted her heart in her gut. No, no, no, please. Don't do this to me. Please be open. Please be open. Without paying heed to how it might bruise her body, Juliet threw herself at the solid block of wood once, twice until she realized that such abuse was unnecessary if she turned and jangled the knob with her bound hands.