Marie observed him, silently, as always. She had learned long ago to assess him silently. Silence ensured at least a few moments of private contemplation, before his interest was lured back to the fluctuating of her soul. Her gentle, yet deteriorating soul. Her soul longed for him, clung to him, but she knew the attachment was brittle, easy to shatter.
She was all too aware of the easiness of abandoning him. He most likely would not even so much as attempt to stop her. The acceptance of this realization was so painful it was near crippling. The longing for his affection had not been snuffed out or dimmed as they grew older. It had in fact grown, and become a black cancerous hole. It devoured her internally. Her, and only her.
She was the lone sufferer in this dark pit of isolation, while he would occasionally look down upon her with his frozen, listless gaze. Her eyes would lock with his for but a moment, and what she found there was enough to bring her to her knees. A distant loneliness created a glaze over his eyes. His very being. The him he tried to crush and snuff out day in and day out. The lonely, frightened, and desperately lost man known only to her.
These glimpses were few and far between, and she could no more reach out her hand to comfort him, before it was harshly slapped away. Mentally slapped away, to be exact. For all his sadistic and violent penchants, he would never raise a hand to hurt Marie. His Marie. He knew, oh, he knew. He knew at the very core of his being that Marie belonged solely to him, had always belonged to him.
She had to belonged to him from the very day they happened to meet. She saw him and instantly knew she was his. Mind, body, and soul. She observed him silently at first, watching the way he always kept to himself, would sit and stare at nothing. Every detail of him she memorized. What her eyes could not record her heart filled in. She was in love with him and had not once uttered a word to him.
Consequently, this pitiful observing manifested itelf into a conversation. Atleast, a semblance of one. "Franken?..., Stein? T-that is your name, correct?", Marie uttered self-counsciously. He was...taken aback. Where did this woman come from? Why was she attempting to converse with him? He looked sideways lazily, and eyed her. His gaze exhausted and befuddled. The empty look he gave froze her internally. Two sharp daggers of an unearthly, eerily beautiful green.
A haunting green. Her gaze paralyzed by a set of eyes as light and translucent as ice. "...Yes, that's my name." He had finally managed to crumble the silence lingering between them. "Is there something you wanted?" A monotonous tenor voice wormed it's way inside her ears and into her skull. A voice simultaneously soft and edgey. His words vibrated and buried themselves there. Her own squeaked regrettably when she answered him. "I...I just, I...wanted to meet you..." Her words came faster now. "I mean you're such an amazing meister and everything." A blush spread it's horrid self from the bottom of her neck to the apples of her cheeks.
He allowed himself to stare, to only stare. She longed for him to cease his staring, to ease the discomfort she felt she had caused. Expressionlessness remained the mask sewn to his face as he quietly, almost gently, muttered, "thank you." The silence shattered with those few words.
She studied him more boldly now. Allowed herself to really see him. Oh, she had never been this close to him before, never been engulfed in his atmosphere. It was a choking atmosphere. A stench of stifled madness emulated from it.
Laying the atmosphere aside, she gently brushed away the clouds of pain, loneliness, and madness that tried so desperately to hide his face. His handsome face. It was painfully obvious he was not aware of his attractiveness. Uniqueness was the focus of his appearance. Yet, it was not an unpleasant or repulsive uniqueness.
Repulsiveness was the absolute last thing with which it should be aligned. Paleness defined itself all along his body. Hair the color of a storm cloud, straight, thick, and cut in a manner as if to hide not only his eyes, but his very soul. A straight, finely shaped nose, high cheekbones, and surprisingly full lips melted into his face. A face that attached itself to a body of medium, if not short, height. However, Marie imagined Stein's almost emaciatingly thin, yet toned body, would soon gain around five inches.
A soft smile reached it's way across her lips. She felt significantly more comfortable after studying him. An understanding of him was soon to be attained, hopefully. Gentle was what she must be. Gentleness must radiate from her if she wished to even attempt to comprehend him.
He needed gentleness so desperately. Copious amounts of harshness and chastisement assaulted him daily. She had seen it, seen it far too often. Truth did lie in Stein needing chastisement and corrrection. He had to have someone to guide him. Otherwise... Otherwise, it would end poorly. However, that was not all he needed, far from it.
Balance was what he needed. Craved possibly, if she could be so bold as to assume. Spirit, his partner, treated him well enough, but it was almost begrudgingly. Stein needed something beyond just being "treated alright." He needed an intense gentleness. He needed someone to let him know he wasn't a burden, regardless of his actions. He needed acceptance, grace, and above all he desperately needed love.
An unconditional love Marie was achingly willing to give. She longed to love him. She already did love him, and she knew she would never love anyone the way she loved him. No, he was special, incredibly important, valued, and she had to make him aware of it...
Marie felt herself jerk back to the present. The present day in which she felt closer to Franken than ever, yet further away than she would ever like to be. A distance not of a physical sort but of an emotional, relational one. She felt a sickness pull down fiercly on her heart as she continued to silently observe him. She could feel his attention slowly shifting to her. He always knew when she was staring at him.
"Marie, is something wrong?", He asked in that deceptively gentle voice of his. The voice that caused her to melt. She felt her eyes slowly flutter and close as she savored his voice. That's what was so puzzling about Franken, frustrating really. He could be so gentle at times. Caring, funny, silly, and downright adorable. He was a walking conundrum. One minute he was the kind man with a quirky sense of humor, the next he was a psychotic madman. His inbetween personality that settled in the midst these two extremes was his monotonous and listless one, which Marie was accustomed to quite often.
Marie stared at him, hard. She wanted to do many things at once. She wanted to hug him, hold him, cry, but above all she wanted to love him. He had to know everything she did for him was out of love, right? Staying by his side, making sure he ate, slept...etc. Yet, a horrible panic rose up inside of her as she considered the possibility that he truly didn't know she loved him. Surprisingly, a man of his high intelligence could be very daft. He was a bit of an absent-minded genius...in many ways.
Taking a slow methodical breath, she answered him. "No, nothing's wrong...I was just...thinking", and the word "thinking" caught in her throat and sounded strangely like a choked back sob. She covered her mouth with her hand, coughed, tried to cover it up. He looked at her, looked at her with that same confused expression he had given her when they first happened to meet.
She could not restrain herself. She stared at him then closed her eyes as the long held back tears ran down her cheeks. Quietly, she whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you." She opened her eyes again, wiped the tears away with her sleeve. Franken's gaze had shifted to the floor. He was immobile. It was a certain possibilty he had never been loved, ever. His parents sure weren't anywhere in his life, and Spirit, well, Spirit more tolerated him than anything, but Marie, Marie loved him.
She walked up to him, softly put a hand on his shoulder. Leaning down she whispered again, "Franken, I love you". She added, "I'll never love anyone like I love you, darling." "You don't need to say anything, just know I love you, know I'll always be there beside you. You aren't a burden to me, you're a gift." With that she rubbed his back a little and left the room so her words could truly sink in. Her words that could never adequatly express the unconditional love she had for him, would always have for him.