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Nipton
Their first meeting had been etched into his mind. A view he would never be parted from. When they met face to face in front of the hotel, Nipton laying dead under their foots. Among the rising fire and the dying profligates. Vulpes had told her of Nipton, of the lottery, his lesson. He expected her to spit at him, curse at him the way any profligates would. He had not expected her to see the beauty of it. To understand him. What a strange woman she was.
She watched him, silently, her gaze a thousand miles away. A large wound ran across her forehead, smaller one embracing the side of her face. She was beautiful. Vulpes wondered of its story. He thought of running a hand across it, letting the tip of his fingers trace the shape of her scar. A thought unfit of a Legionnaire. A thought that lingered nonetheless.
The distant howling of a starved wolf resonated deep within in gut, waking a hunger long buried.
Still he stood there, watching her.
A single speck of white sand standing alone atop the crimson desert.
The Strip
Vulpes stood in the middle of the Strip, hands pressed tightly together, waiting for the Courier to exit the Tops. He had long admitted that his interest in the Courier was more than for the good of the Legion. Trailing her through the Mojave had only deepened his hunger. Unable to shake her image from his mind. He wanted her intelligence and wits to be shared with him. He deserved the kindness she wasted on those profligates.
She stood before him minute later, her breath crashing against his cheeks. Their hand sliding against one another as he handed her the Mark of Caesar. Rough and warm hands enveloping his. A warmth that welcomed him, that dared him to want. Vulpes wanted to slide his hand further, to seize her wrist and pull her close to him. To feel the warmth of her body against his.
She would let his hands travel if he dared to, he was sure of it.
Still, duty remained, and his hands stayed at his side.
Two little specks of sand stood among the buzzing city, neither fully crimson nor white.
The Fort
The Courier had taken her time to reach the Fort, testing Caesar’s patience with each passing day. Vulpes dug his fingers in the skin of his palm until she arrived, the stinging pain washing away with her presence. She gave Vulpes a glance as she spoke with Caesar, finding his gaze already on her. She left soon after, her first task assigned. And when she would return, her value proven to the Legion, she would be his.
He would lead her to his tent, embracing her as he had dreamed of. He would be as gentle as he knew how for her. She would not deny the truth of their meeting, Vulpes told himself. The destiny that had led them both to Nipton. He would cradle her head, lay kisses across her body and whisper her praises. She would be beautiful under him, smiling against his parting lips, his hunger finally satiated.
For a moment, She would be all that exist for him.
Shame would become stranger to him.
Two specks of sand stood together, their colours entwining beneath the desert’s moon.