Author: tatty ted PM
And they say, there's a fine line between love and hate. - —Roisin/Mike.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Words: 798 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-07-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7262775
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It all got out of hand pretty quickly.
She lost her temper. She screamed at him and he punched her in the face.
"You don't understand! You've probably never known what it's like to have sexual urges. Sex has no connection to loving." He replied, the hint of anger visible in his eyes. She stared back. The sick feeling when something goes terribly wrong swam around in the pit of her stomach as she kept a hand on her cheek.
"I can tell." He told her as he pointed a finger in her direction, "By looking at you. You've never experienced sexual gratification or how to give it. Your an uptight bitch."
He laughed. His laugh was cold like ice and it sent shivers down her spine, "You were when you worked on Vice. You think it wasn't common knowledge."
She lashed out, slapping him hard across the face as a whimper escaped her lips.
"Get out!" She told him as she tried her hardest not to cry, "Get out Martin. You know what my gratification is going to be? It's going to be hurling you up for the murder of Angela Dutton, now get out of my house."
He ignored her, his stare buring holes into her and he took a step towards her. Fearfully, she stepped back before losing her temper, "Get out!" She screamed.
When she heard the front door close and she was certain he was gone, she took out an evidence bag and bagged up the glass he had been drinking from. When she had finished, she collapsed on the living room floor in tears, her emotions getting the better of her.
If he was honest, he had no idea why he decided to call round to her flat. Perhaps it was to talk about his feelings for the case.
He tried calling her beforehand but as usual he only got as far as the answer machine. Leaving a seventh message in a row, he decided to go to her flat. If she didn't want to talk over the phone, it would have to be face to face.
When he reached the door of her flat, he noticed it was open a little and he frowned. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the house.
"Roisin?" He called. Nothing. Then he heard it ever so quietly. Soft gentle sobs. He followed them into the living room where he found her, sat on the floor crying.
He hovered for a minute unsure. He didn't know if he should stay or go. After all, he couldn't deny him and Roisin hated each other. He thought she was an uptight, argumentative bitch.
"Roisin?" He called again before he walked towards her and knelt down in front of her, "Roisin, talk to me."
Now that was the last thing she wanted. To talk to Detective Chief Superintendent Michael Walker. The arrogant, up-his-own-arse, bastard.
"Leave me alone Mike, I'm fine!" She told him still not looking up at him.
He knew she was lying. Roisin Conner never cried.
Without another word, he lifted her chin up so they were looking at each other and it was then that he noticed the red mark next to her eye. His thumb touched her cut and she flinched a little and bit her lower lip.
"Did someone do this to you?" He asked only for him not to recieve an answer.
He continued to stroke her cut, his eyes fixed on her. She stared back, no words spoken between them and a comfortable silence between them. They were sat like that for a good twenty minutes before she broke the silence.
"I think you should go." She whispered and he nodded. He moved his hand away and she stood up. He got up off the floor himself and made his way towards the front door.
"Mike." He heard his name been called and he turned around. Roisin stood there, her arms folded across her chest and a small smile on her lips, "Thank you."
He nodded a little, smiled himself and said good night. She replied good night and he opened the door and closed it behind him. As he did so, he lent against against it and sighed. To say he was confused was an understatement. He didn't know it was possible to hate her one minute and love her the next.
In other words, there is definitely a fine line between love and hate and Michael Walker knew he had just crossed it.
a/n: my first trial & retribution fic so please be nice.
oh and if you like it enough to favourite, please review.
reviews make me extremely hyper and happy :D