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Legion

Date: 9/15/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Lupus, Rating: , Source: LushStories

walked with heavy steps back towards his bed, thrown himself down and sat with his head in his hands for a very long time. The girl had barely moved from her spot, hugging herself and hoping that he wouldn’t start shouting again. ‘He hasn’t tried to come at me yet, at least. Why’s he so angry? I wish I knew what he was shouting at me. He hasn’t attacked me…’ Slowly, she uncoiled her knees and rose quietly to her feet. The Roman still didn’t move as she stood, letting the sodden shirt drip its freezing water down her skin until it ran down her pale, slender thighs in tiny streams. The damp shirt was slowly making her teeth chatter, her muscles shivering. ‘Didn’t he save me, in the street? He’s the one who pulled the men off.’ She shuddered and bit back another surge of tears as she thought of the night’s last events. Stepping closer to the man on the bed, she shivered with the cold, edging towards the fire. He looked up just as she reached the flickering embers, watching her carefully. ‘Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt me? Maybe I’m safer with him than I am with… Them, out there.’ She slowly knelt in front of the fire and held her shirt forward, hoping to dry the sodden material by its weak heat. The Roman watched her sit and frowned. She was determined to avoid his eyes. ‘Don’t provoke him. Don’t provoke him. He might leave you alone.’ He rose at once and her muscles tensed. She followed his every step with wide eyes that blinked back tears. He strode towards her and she started ... to shake, praying to all her Gods that she’d be safe. The Roman snatched up a small, thin log from the pile and tossed it casually into the fire. The flames roared up as he showered them in tiny pieces of kindling. The heat was like a thousand kisses across her skin. He spoke, but it made no sense to her. Shrugging, he went back to his bed and left her almost hugging the fire. She watched as he lazily rolled the tunic over his head of dark hair, baring his uniquely olive skin, and let it drop to the floor next to him. She stared, a little transfixed, at the foreigner she saw. She had never seen a Roman without his shining armour – never seen into Roman eyes through anything but a helmet. He glanced in her direction. His eyes followed the length of her flowing red hair, while she couldn’t tear her eyes from the dark, chiselled shape of his sculpted chest. He looked away and reached for his breeches. A thought seemed to flash across his mind as his fingers found the knot holding them together. She felt her pulse race, heart hammering against her chest. She felt her skin flush and hoped to all the Gods she could muster that he wouldn’t notice. His hands pulled back, though, and he sat down on the bed – much to her disappointment. With a pair of green eyes watching him through the twilight of the tent, he rolled onto his cot without another word. He seemed to pass out at once and the tent was silent once more. She watched him doze for a long time before she looked away, glancing ...