That One Time In Paris

"Why did we meet? I mean, the virtual meet. Why did you comment on my blog? What were you looking for?" 

She asked him, as she sipped her citrus crush from the comforts of her wicker chair. The joint was an extended balcony overlooking the balcony, with old and ruined red brick half walls, overgrown with vines. It was called Paris. Her eyes returned from the sea and stared into his eyes for a moment, searching for an answer that didn't matter.

"Nothing in particular." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Why did we meet? Maybe because of the Butterfly Effect. Maybe because, somewhere, a butterfly flapped its wings!"

And he smiled.

Dinner

Movements in the hall woke her up from her troubled sleep. She slowly pulled herself out of the bed and took a deep sigh. She slogged her way into the hall, leaning onto the walls for support. It was dark and the lights were all out in the house. She could make out his silhouette at the head of the dining table.

"What's for dinner?", she mumbled in a barely audible voice.

"Justice", he replied in a straight voice.

She looked at him, startled.

"I served justice for dinner", he clarified.

She slowly walked towards to him. He nodded towards the plate in front of him. On it was a head, severed and bleeding.

Even in the dark, she could make out the face to which it once belonged. It used to belong to one of her tormentors. She took a fork from the stand on the table and poked it deep into one of its eye socket. It slid deep inside, as thick fluid oozed out of the corners of the hole.

She left the fork poking out of the socket and grabbed his face in her arms. She kissed it lightly with bruised lips and whispered slowly into his ears, "I'm still hungry!"