Thread: Robbery of the Heart (MrBurke x Risi)

You don't strike me as the type, looking to get scooped up. He was halfway through his meal now, smiling at her, perhaps the better half of her flirtatiousness soaring over his head. Glad I did it, though. Let into her apartment twice... That more or less reaffirmed his suspicions that if he'd taken advantage the first night, their engagement would likely have ended there. There wasn't really much temptation at the time. Robert had always fancied himself above capitalizing on the anguish of suffering women, and with Tara he felt responsible anyway. Probably a good sign, you having me over. He grinned. I mean, we both know it's good for me , but you oughta be proud of yourself. Taking chances with strange men. In the shimmering vision of this glimpse of her fun, outgoing side, he flashed back on her trembling, a puddle in his lap, begging for her life and recoiling from the prospect of gang rape and prolonged confinement. It soured the moment, but he did his best not to show it. Better be careful, though. He wiggled his eyebrows over the rim of his glass, finishing the remainder of the wine, taking his best shot a playfulness. You never know. I could be anybody. The warmth of her shuddering body in his lap, that day... It was a bizarre experience, something he found himself thinking about more than he felt comfortable with. The notion of power, that is exciting to all men, but the cost to their own humanity as well as the notion of victimization weighs heavy enough to overrule anything even approaching any such action for a chemically balanced human being. There is a small percentage of people who can convince themselves temporarily that these things are meaningless, and fewer still who believe it day to day. In the end, the philosophic undertow will consume any such perpetrator and despoil the very thing that makes him human. Any reasonable person understands this inherently, genetically, as a piece of their core, never needing to dabble in any flavor of that particular macabre to grasp if loosely the delicacy of their hold on reality and the world as a moral, self-respecting creature. It is the very barrier standing between us and true cannibalistic anarchy. It chilled him to the bone, the idea that she might be faced with the precipice of such an experience as a result of his action. He'd have protected her, no matter what, and knew in watching her eyes shimmer that he would kill now to keep her safe. If it meant the end of him, the end of this lie, the destruction of everything he'd built for himself, he would do it. Some things were more important than comfort and prosperity. He felt pangs in testing his limit like this, but the self-loathing in him begged for it. He fed himself a little further, and sloshed a fifth of a glass of red wine for himself. The charming smile faded a tad, and he couldn't quite muster another coolish comment or quip. He felt... Suddenly somewhat empty, in doing this, wining and dining her, looking forward to intimacy. Robert felt like a coward and a cheat. His heart told him it didn't want her tonight, didn't want to consecrate... whatever this was physically. Other parts of his body hungered for her already, but the conflict was strong. Every male bone in his body wanted to convince her of his supremacy and bed her. The breadth of his soul wept for the increasingly complex situation he was pressing himself into. He smiled for her, awaited her response with a keen grin, but it didn't quite fill his muted eyes.