His Mistress


I can't remember when I realised it. It was one of those things that crawled up on me slowly. Don't ask me why and when it occurred. There was no defining moment. All I can remember is that my simmering dislike gradually turned to a liking where it must have flourished into love. There was none of those fireworks erupting from my heart. I didn't one day look at his face and realise then that I loved the man. I suppose it had been there for a while. Although I tried to ignore it, Love pushed through me. And I found myself in Love with a man that I really shouldn't love.

I never or will have any illusions about him. Never have I thought that I could soften his heart and make him become good. Never have I been under any illusions that my feelings would be reciprocated. No, I know him too well for that. I am just an object another pawn in his world.

Don't get me wrong sometimes – just for a flicker- when he looks at me I think I can sometimes see something more. Maybe a slight fondness lurking in the depths of those shimmering eyes.

But I know that what I see is only the light. Behind those eyes where love should dwell it is vacant. He has greater things to do then love.

It worries me how when he lies next to me his chest rising slowly and repeatedly. His mind off in some epic dream that I can look down on his peaceful face and think that maybe there is some good.

I long to stroke his cheek to kiss a trail of kisses along his jaw. His eyelids flicker and his breathing is light his arms are sprawled around the bed. His body takes up most of the bed reflecting his power.

I have to turn away I've been looking at his face too long. I'm aware that my feelings are getting stronger I want them to go away to disappear.

I feel tears pricking at my eyes. It hurts sometimes knowing that I can have his body but not his mind. I refuse to cry tears for him. Tears are a sign of weakness.

I leave his bed and move to the window and gaze out across the deserted land. His guards patrol the area, there hands held tightly to their machine guns.

A while ago I used to watch out of the window longing to escape, to run across the fields. I was scared of staying here, but now Im scared of leaving him. I'm scared he'll get bored and I'll be replaced. My only comfort is that he trusts me- well he trusts no one as he says but I think he does me.

You see although our relationship is strictly physical its hard not to learn about someone when your around them as much as I am around him. I know him better then anyone yet there are still parts of him that I barely know.

I turn around to find him sitting up absently scratching his head his eyes fixed on me. His naked form rises and he moves through into another room where I can hear the splashing of water.

Sometimes he speaks to me other times he is silent. There are times when I think I can tell what he is thinking; I've observed him too much. I suppose that's why I've grown attached to him. I see things that others wouldn't even notice.

However he is far too irrational for me to know everything that he is thinking. I think sometimes that he worries that I am too close to him, that I am too comfortable in his presence. Truth is he terrifies me. His irrational ways and how easily he can take others lives. He kills because he likes to. He enjoys that power and is always greedy for more. That's what scares me. I should hate a man like that, a man who will so easily wipe the blood of another from his hands and feel no remorse. A man who killed my father.

That's what is worse how can I love a man who killed the only other man I love. I try not to think about it but it always comes back. It makes me feel sick I can feel my stomach turning in knots.

I didn't ask for this to happen. I didn't expect to fall in love with the deadliest man in the country.

When he returns I am dressed in a light coloured dress. He glances at me and at times like this I wish I could read him better. He walks slowly over to me. I wonder if he can sense the emotion rippling through me.

He goes to kiss my lips but just the same as always I move my face so he kisses my cheek. I always do that at first it was to show him my dislike for him, but now its so he cant tell the truth.

"Maybe one day you'll understand," his deep voice murmurs.

"No, I don't think I ever will. You have no heart." I say truthfully. The repulsion that used to taint my voice faded away a while ago.

What can I say another pointless story! And yes im afraid im one of those who loves to get reveiews so maybe if i get a few i'll post the second chapter- which unusually I've already written! Review!