Chapter Three: Tit for Tat

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There is always a feeling you get when someone is staring at you in your sleep. Something in your subconscious that alerts you to something watching you at your most vulnerable. Some might say this is a prey action, always watchful and wary. Always waiting for predators, even knowing they are there in the dead of sleep. Some might call this a useless prey driven action, most beasts called it that as well.

 I, however, found it not to be a prey action but to be a reactionary one. One that I had trained over the brutal two years that MacIntosh had me. It was an action I turned from a subconscious tickle that pulled me from my sleep slowly into a full blown offensive tactic.

Pa's first rule. Always strike first.

That was why I was pulled roughly from my sleep by forcefully two foot kicking some one in the chest as they leaned over me. I was pulled even further from my sleep when I launched after them, my trust switchblade held tightly in my hand as I landed on their chest, straddling them with the blade against their throat. Such a natural reaction for me, making the predator become the prey in a fraction of a second.

 "What the-get off me!" Icy blue eyes were all I could see as I blinked mine sleepily. It took me a second to focus on his face before I smacked my lips and yawned widely.

"Oh... jus' you, stinky." The words were said thickly and I rolled my head, wiggling slightly on his chest. He let out a hiss that turned into a small rumble of agitation.

"Knife." The word was gritted out and I blinked again. I didn't know what time it was but it was too fucking early in the morning to be up.

"What about it?" I yawned again and looked down at him, my eyes being drawn to where I had the blade pressed against his neck. My hand never wavered, the blade was still. I would be so easy to just dig in and end him. It was almost tempting.

 "Kindly remove it from my neck before I snap yours." He spoke through a mouthful of elongated teeth, a testament to his current anger with the position. I wanted to chortle at it.

"Kinda hard to snap a neck when you are gurgling on your own blood." I gave a tired snicker at it before I lifted the blade from his neck and made a show of closing it. I tapped it against his nose. "Don't like meeting my blade? Don't watch me sleep." I stretched my arms over my head as I stumbled to my feet with another wide yawn. I walked back towards my bed and fell across it, wiggling back to my pillow where I buried my face, snuggling it tightly.

A few more hours of sleep. I smiled slightly, the knife still tightly grasped in my hand. I never slept without it. He was lucky I had aimed for a punch the last time he woke me up. "Get up." The words were clipped and I pressed my face further into the pillow.

"I get up when the sun does." Not a moment before that. I tuned him out as he started pacing, muttering under his breath. I had slept trough worse shit than his little mantrum. Dude must have been seriously pmsing. Psychotic man syndrome. I smiled at my own joke before I fell back towards the edge of sleep. Too early to wake up and I kept to my schedule. He could rant and rave all he wanted, I could sleep through a bomb blast if I really wanted too.

"Get the fuck up before I rip your throat out." The words were snarled and they pulled me back from that edge of sleep I had been waiting on. I waved my arm blindly towards my small kitchen area.

"Chocolate is above the fridge." I mumbled the words out before I wiggled further into the soft mattress. Like sleeping on a cloud. I was so happy I managed to find it outside of a rather ritzy hotel. I had to get rid of a few... questionable stains but bleach fixed everything and I wasn't picky. It was very comfortable and free. I liked free.

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