Antagonist backstory

Antagonist Backstory





Michael stood staring into the fire.  He was too close, really, for comfort, but he made no move to step away.  In fact he reached out as if to warm his hands.  A thin sheen of perspiration coated his face and he could feel a trickle of sweat slip down his back between his shoulder blades.  A log shifted in the embers, sending sparks flying outwards.  A spark lit briefly on the back of one of his long fingers, causing a sharp but welcome frisson of pain. 

He could feel things still then.  Sometimes he wondered.  Wondered at the increasing numbness that shadowed his thoughts and actions.  Perhaps he'd already greedily used up, in his brief life,  his allotment of feeling. No.  It wasn’t as if he felt nothing at all.  He rubbed the tender burn on his finger.  He could feel the ache in his calf where a musket ball had taken out a chunk of flesh.  And his eyes, he could feel the grit of too many sleepless nights when he blinked.  What he couldn't feel was the whisper of any emotion for the girl who occupied the study with him. The girl who used to be his life.

"Mike, for heavens step away before you light yourself on fire,"  she pulled at his arm.  He glanced down at the her, resisting briefly before letting her tow him away from the fire.

"Sorry Mia.  Lost in thought I guess."  He stared down at her. And then remembered to smile.

She was his fiance.  The girl he swore he'd love forever.  But when he looked at her he felt nothing.  No joy, no pain...nothing.  She wore a pretty emerald gown that suited her black hair and green eyes.  He'd always loved her eyes.  He remembered that he'd always loved them, just not how to love them now. 

He could see she didn't know what to make of him.  That wasn't surprising, he hardly knew what to make of himself lately.  She studied him with worried eyes, her fingers brushing the back of his hand.

That - he felt.  And he didn't like it.  He retrieved his hand from her grasp, ignoring the look of pain that crossed her fact.  "Is that a new dress?" he asked finally.

"It was new a couple of weeks ago.  Really Mike.  Even Ben noticed it before you did," she said lightly.  She was pretending.  It's what she did now.  What they both did now.  Pretend that everything was alright.

"Sorry."

"Well.  Maybe when you're paying for the my gowns you'll be a little more attentive to what is new."

He forced a smile.  "I suspect I will."

He could see she was worried about him but he didn't know how to ease her fears.  He was too busy dealing with his own disquiet.  He took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers, ignored the urge to drop her hand and step away.  "Tell me what you did today My-Mia,” he said.