Chapter 3. Way to ruin the moment

Heisenberg has spent the last few minutes shutting up... Something on the other side of the trapdoor and when he returns, there is scarlet on his arms. He smears it on his face as he moves his hair away from his eyes.

“Don’t ever become a factory owner,” he says nonchalantly, before heading through a door. There’s the sound of running water and him splashing his grizzled face before he comes back with beads dripping off his hair like crystals.

She says, “You still haven’t decided what to do with me. I can clean... And I cook a little.”

He picks up a length of chain, jingling it as he passes it from one hand to another. “First of all, I’m going to show you off.”

The chain rockets forwards, wrapping around her wrists and tying tight.

“The fuck!” She gasps, finding herself wrenched off the bed. “What am I? Your prisoner?”

“Pick any name you want. Would you rather be out there? Because believe me, you could be!” He wraps the other end of the chain around his wrist, pulling her closer and closer until there’s barely a metre between them.

She insists, “I won’t hurt you, you know. You don’t need to chain me up.”

“All part of the show I’m afraid.”

“Where are we going?”

“Why, to shove you in front of Lady Super-sized Bitch - ” He flies a bolt at the picture of Dimitrescu. “ - the ugly-ass psycho doll - ” It scratches across Donna Beneviento. “ - and that moronic freak!” It sprawls over the face of a vile looking creature.

She opens her mouth to protest, and then realizes that she really is safer with himm than any others that were in her village.

She shrugs. “Alright, let’s go.”

“That’a girl.” He drops his hat on her head and her cheeks flush. She turns her face away. Why is she blushing? She just met the guy for Christ’s sake!

The two find themselves traversing the snow once again. Luckily, it seems to have stopped falling. Their footsteps leave marks in the white, making muffled crunches. It doesn’t take long before she’s shaking again.

“Mother Miranda...” She mutters through chattering teeth.

“Quit your whining, we’re almost there.”

“You’re not the one who just got in from this blizzard.”

“Blizzard.” He tuts. “Its barely a chill. I’d call it fresh.”

She lowers her voice. “Call it what you want, but you’re not the one freezing your tits off.”

He stops and yanks her chain, making her stagger towards him. Their chests press against each other. She gasps – and it has nothing to do with the cold.

For a short while they remain pressed against each other, hearts beating and finding a semblance of heat in the frosty village. She swallows. Looking up at him from this angle... He’s gorgeous. There’s a rugged air about him that takes the ice right out of her breath.

“Lord Heisenberg...”

“That’s the second time you’ve murmured by name today. Could give a man ideas.” He grins.

“Are you... Flirting?”

“Way to ruin the moment. Here.” He takes his trench coat off and jabs it into her chest. “Well? Put it on.”

“Thanks.” She swings it over her shoulders, drinking in the heat of his body as it hangs around her like a cape. It smells familiar, a little of stale tobacco and sweat, but also of aftershave; musk and pepper.