The warmth of his body was astounding, the idea that somebody could be so hot inside and not combust. Her scent was on him, that exquisite scent, an intoxicating perfume that he couldn't help but find himself obsessing over. Her arms fall over his chest, bare and naked, and that gave him a feeling of strength and masculinity he had not recently felt. She was different in some way, some sort or another. She felt more in control. Superior. And what Copé found strange is how much he enjoyed that about her.
In bed, they slumbered. Half of them did. Secrat put his hand over the top of Christique's head. As if alluding to a softer side of himself, more loving and less shallow. Alas, as his fingers strolled down the brim of her neck, that was revealed as false. He felt and observed her body to be warm as well, like there was a fire in her that awaited the chance to set everything else in a blaze.
He felt down her neck some more until finding the string of her necklace. Although, it wasn't just a string at all, not for a gem as extraordinary as the one resting between her naked bosoms. She opted not to take it off. And Secrat, wanting not to draw any attention to it, was certain not to object.
The blackness obscured his vision some, but the light from the moon out the window illuminated just enough of the room for him to see her face. Her eyes were what concerned him the most. They needed to remain shut. He fiddled with the back of the necklace between his fingers. He hooked it with his index finger, carrying the back of it up her neck.
His heart was beating fast while his eyes intently stuck themselves to Christique's lids. If she awoke, no doubt, he could handle it, but he didn't especially want to. Her hair posed an issue, as did the way she rested her head on the side of the string. The only way to retrieve it would be by lifting her head up or swiping at it swiftly. Both meant he would have to cross his fingers and hope for the best. Copé creaked his teeth some as he began to lift her head. He did it cautiously, knowing it was more of a game of luck than it was doing anything right or wrong. Heavy sleeper or not heavy, those were the components that spelled out what Copé's night had the potential to be.
If she was, Copé would leave with a priceless jewel and sex he didn't pay for. That was a fortunate night by all definition of the phrase. Either way, that's what Secrat imagined happening tonight, even if he had to kill her, but it'd be really perfect if he could avoid the conflict.
As he pulled the necklace more up, all of his aspirations were thwarted at once. Christique yawned and then rolled to the other side, her back now facing the thief. That could have meant rolling out of the necklaces' clutches, but that was not to be. Instead, as positioning would have it, the necklace kept with her, but Copé held the gem in his hands, marveling at it.
The jolt of fear he felt in himself from Christique's movement was enough to keep him from attempting to take it off again. At least with that method. Instead, Copé moved his hand down the bedside in search of his leggings. He found them at once, and then struggled free one of his knives. The handle felt cold in his hands, unlike how his body felt. Still, the knife felt nice to hold; empowering. He knew that with the knife, he wouldn't have to endure any screams or cries or conflict.
Tightly in his hands, Secrat slid the knife near Christique's throat.
The look of it was nice.
At last, he acted. Cutting the necklace off from her neck. He pulled the gem free, taking the piece of string as well. He had it. At last.
Copé rolled out of the bed as carefully as he could. Naked, the thief wandered for his clothes, trying to let the light of the moon guide him. He found them easy, and before long, is fully clothed. There isn't much that he remembered about the inside of the shack. He didn't really pay much attention to it when he had the chance. Luckily, it was small enough to where he didn't really have to. He approached the doorway leading to the outside and turned the knob.
In seconds, Copé was out the house and making way toward his own. The cold night air and the moon loomed over him, but the warm feeling inside hadn't escaped him. His way back wasn't eventful at all, of course, but he did take the time to behold the gem in all of its glory.
There was a lot of dirt and grime over it, as well as a certain dullness, but there was more to it than that. The gem was deliberately allowed to ruin itself, and there was no telling how much it was actually worth. He held it in the palm of his hand. The jewel was much heavier than it looked. Certain inscriptions appeared to be on it, but he couldn't make them out very well.
By the time Copé made it back to his small sector of Maharris, his small and insignificant shack that cost him the littlest number of coin.
He'd have to leave the Whispey Deserts once selling the necklace. That much was for certain. He doubted there was any chance of Christique finding him. He was intuitive when it came to those types of things. Like the soldiers and knights roaming the desert, she would be easy enough to evade. She didn't know where he lived after all, and when the crowd was out, it wasn't like he would stand out. Wasn't like she could do anything to him in the first place.
It was more about having a new lease on life, a rediscovery of old passion.
This wasn't a petty thievery for bread or a few coin. This was of value, and for the first time in a long time, the thief succeeded without any form of conflict.
Secrat smiled at that as he stopped at his bed.
It wasn't until the next morning Copé realized he had lost his flask.
The Red Flux & the Wunderkind THief
Chapter One (1 - 2 - 3)