She's watching him when he sleeps. Keeps reading the diary of a dead man. There are bits and pieces of eight different men scattered in one, laying half comatose on the bed in front of her. Wound on his back stopped bleeding as soon as she put in the last stitches and aside from nasty bruises here and there he seems to be fine. Whether his exhaustion is due to some internal injury that'll slowly but surely kill him or if it's just born from stress of the battle she really can't tell. She can only wait and watch, keep reading the diary and learn more of the man-made man in front of her.
He's a restless sleeper once coma-like status gives way to normal dreams. He keeps tossing and turning, twisting his torso and crunching up the hapless pillow that's about to expel the cheap styrofoam filling at any possible night. She gets a good look of the scars crisscrossing his torso and arms. He keeps his hands covered, and sleeps with shoes and trousers on. She'd like to map those scars with her fingertips, count all the pieces. He'd let her, that she's sure of. Look in his eyes, the way he keeps her at arm's length and the state of his pitiful apartment tell the grim tale of a two hundred years worth of loneliness. She almost cried when he leaned in to the needle when it pierced his skin, desperate for any kind of touch, while she was stitching his back.
It's closer to dawn when she finally picks up the courage to close the gap between her and Adam. He's fast asleep when she walks to him and sits carefully on the edge of the bed. She waits for him to stir in his sleep, but when he stays still she reaches with her hand. Her palm is hovering just inches away from his shoulder. Even from this distance she can feel warmth radiating from him. He's very much alive, not cool and clammy as she would have expected from a corpse of his age. Scars feel cooler and slick compared to much coarser skin, especially those marking the lines where Frankenstein stitched all the parts of him together. Smaller scars are newer in comparison, uneven and crinkled. They're Adam's doing. He can't very well just go to a doctor when he gets hurt, and in his line of life a person is bound to get hurt often.
She waits for Adam to wake up at any moment now, her fingers dancing over his skin must tickle, but he keeps his eyes closed. She might be feeling up a real corpse aside of pulse that's ticking at the side of his throat. She traces her finger over that vein, down his clavicle and over his chest, finding almost palm-wide scar from his side. That's where doctor Frankenstein put in lungs and heart she realizes, remembering that small detail from the diary she finished just moments ago. She leans closer, trying to see if there's any traces, any indicators of what the good doctor used to put Adam together. Then all of a sudden Adam is wide awake, his strong hands clutching her biceps and his eyes boring in to hers.
"It has been a while, but I think I remember how it's done..." He whispers, warmth creeping in to his gaze and to his gravelly voice. Then she isn't sitting up anymore. She's on her back in the bed, Adam half on top of her, his lower body resting comfortably between her legs and his face nuzzling her neck and breasts. She places her trembling hands on top of his head, sliding her fingers through sleep-tangled, uneven hair, trying to comprehend what is happening.
"Adam.." She calls his name. He stops nibbling her throat and turns to look at her, crawling higher on the bed untill they're face to face and he's cradling her face between his wide palms as if she's the most precious thing in the whole wide world. She can feel his heart. Steady pounding matching hers. Adam stays still, waiting for her to finish.
"You don't have to... I didn't touch you because I wanted..." She's stammering. Adam leans in and his lips land on hers, his tongue seeking entry.
"I want you... And I think you want this..."He murmurs in to the kiss and she really can't deny the truth. Not when his hips gyrate between her thighs and she can feel his rigid cock through three layers of cloth. Not when he keeps nibbling, suckling and basically devouring her with his kisses. Not when he tears off clothes almost desperately, his hands roaming all over her body, stopping only to appreciate places that he finds soft or otherwise interesting.
She has had lovers before, but never before has she felt this completely needed, wanted and appreciated. Adam doesn't wait for permission, doesn't ask what she would like to do. He doesn't try to impress her with the latest tricks in the market. It's simple. He just wants this. Need is written all over his features when he wraps her in to his embrace and places a soothing kiss on her forehead before plunging in to her. He's careful, giving her time to adjust, but he's also old-fashioned. He doesn't expect her to do much else than kiss him back and hang on as he guides her towards fulfillment, and when it's over he rolls on his back and tucks her firmly to his side, telling her to go to sleep because it'll be morning soon and they both need to rest. Following day and night prove him to be right.
XXX
Demons vanquished. Gargoyles only a memory. She's living in the wilderness with Adam. They tried big cities, really tried all of them. Adam was doing just fine. Adapting without really adapting, disappearing rather than mingling in to the crowds. She was having trouble in believing that it was truly over. She kept twisting and turning, afraid of shadows, afraid of everything untill Adam decided that they had to move.
"You'll go crazy if we keep going like this," he said, holding her, assuring her with his touch.
"Maybe I am crazy already... What would you do? What could you do if I was crazy?" She asked with quivering voice, clinging to the lapels of his jacket. Adam kissed the top of her head, cradling her to his chest. Just few moments ago she had fled from the subway, dead on sure that most, if not all the passengers were of demonic origin. She had locked herself to a public restroom and called to Adam.
"You're not crazy, Terra. You're a scientist. There's a rule about that. Rich and smart people are never crazy..."
"Huh? I just told you that I thought that all of those people were demons. That is crazy, Adam!"
"No. You're rich and smart. You're not crazy. You're eccentric," Adam said smiling, then handed her a thick envelope. Plane tickets, passports and a deed to a large estate in remote location somewhere that sounded somewhat european. Couple of days later she found herself from the middle of english countryside, as a lady of a dilapidated castle and a formidable plot of land far away from everything.
First few weeks were rough on her. She was born and raised in the city, so the lack of modern necessities was frustrating, but soon she learned to cope. At the end of the third week she was simply amazed at how pampered life she had lived. End of the fourth week she was actually satisfied that daily chores kept her entertained. End of the fifth week marked the arrival of dark clouds and bad omens...
XXX
Adam had rummaged through closets and old travel trunks in the attic. She found him there, sitting in a corner, hunched over a book. He wasn't actually reading it, but staring at the cover. When she walked closer he flinched as if expecting her to attack him, eyes wide and small beads of sweat gathering over his brows.
"What is it?" She asks. Adam is unable to speak. Instead he hands her the book. It is old, leather-bound thick volume. Decorative letter F is forged on the cover with gold.
"What is this?" Terra asks, her voice a mere whisper. Adam shakes his head, then seems to find his voice again.
"Bride. Victor did it. It's all in the book."
Cold gust of wind suddenly sweeps in from a broken window, but it has nothing to do with the chill that slowly but surely rises from the pit of Terra's stomach. Adam looks at the book in her hand, reaches for it, then decides otherwise and lets her hold on to it.
"He did it. At first I thought that it was just a preliminary plan, first draft, but then I flipped the last page. It's alive, Terra. Alive and alone somewhere out there."
"What are you going to do? Should we... Shouldn't we look for her?" Terra asks, horribly unsure all of a sudden.
"I don't know. I don't even know if it's alive anymore..." Adam hesitates.
"But isn't this what you have wanted all these years? She's like you..."
"It's nothing like me if that book is real. It's... It's evil. It's better, it's almost a real human in body, but Victor used a demon to animate it."
Terra sits down slowly and thumbs through the journal. Page after page writing, meticulous drawings and descriptions of medical and unnatural procedures. Final passage is written with hurried hand, words of incantation that would draw the demon in to the vessel that was prepared for it.
"All these years I have been wondering... Living in hope, fearing that he never finished his plan..." Adam speaks, his voice soft whisper rasping at the back of his throat. Then he chuckles mirthless, turning to look at the darkening sky outside.
"Now I know how alone I really am. There's no other in this world," he spits out the rest of the sentence which is choking him. Terra is about to reach for him, offer consolation, but she soon realizes that Adam is right. She could offer him her whole being but eventually she'd die. Adam would be left alone, void of any purpose but to do battle against demon hordes for the rest of eternity. She is overcome with conflicting emotions. Love for Adam, guilt and grief for his inevitable abandonment and rage for cruel destiny.
At the beginning of their relationship they had one night of physical intimacy, but after that Adam had settled for his role as her protector, casting everything else aside. They hadn't talked about it, it just happened. Terra isn't sure if it is his way of honoring his fallen gargoyle companions, or if he still hopes to find a kindred spirit, eternal bride of Frankenstein's creation, to his side. Both are valid reasons for abstinence so she hasn't questioned Adam's decision of separate bedrooms.
"Everybody dies. One day I will cease to exist, but I feel that it won't happen soon enough. Maybe God is punishing me for the lives I took. Maybe this is Victor's doing. Maybe Satan's... I don't know. I just know that I'm tired..." Adam says with a hushed tone, his eyes still fixed to the dark sky where first stars of the night are glimmering brightly. Moon casts an eerie glow over his face, coloring the web of scars almost silver and deepening the shadows around his eyes.
"You were waiting for her. Weren't you?" Terra asks. Adam swallows, then turns to look at her.
"I have been waiting for her over two hundred years," he says.
"What about us? What happened..."
"Yes. It happened. I'm not proud of it. If it's any consolation, I wasn't going to leave you, no matter what. But you'll die one day. I just assumed that there would have been somebody for me, somebody who wasn't going to leave me."
"Is that why we came here? Is it because of her that you don't want me anymore?" Terra asks, fearing but wanting to know the truth. Adam frowns.
"We came here because you needed to get away from people," he says, then gets somewhat flustered.
"I... I want you. My feelings haven't changed, Terra," he then stammers.
"Why different rooms, then? Why are you keeping me away from you?" She asks.
"I have been waiting for you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I told you that you could come to me if you needed anything."
It makes perfect sense. Adam, as all his parts as well, has been born into a very different world, to era when sexuality was considered taboo. For him it would be unheard of to propose anything even remotely sexual. Especially considering the nature of their relationship. If there even is a relationship to speak of.
"Do you... Would you mind sharing a bed with me from now on?" Terra asks. Adam looks hesitant.
"You'd want me to?" He asks. Terra nods, feeling crimson coloring flashing all over her cheekbones. Adam cups her cheek with his palm, his thumb sweeping over the blush gently.
"You'd forget and forgive?" He asks, strange expression on his face. Deathly serious, as if he is facing a demon instead of the scientist he inadvertently drew in to his world. Terra understands. He's not asking for forgiveness, Adam isn't seeking absolution. He's curious about what she's thinking about the possible existence of a bride, and Adam's earlier determination of seeking her despite of his commitment to Terra. She seeks his eyes and holds her gaze steady, almost mimicking his own expression.
"I'm not going to forgive or forget. There's nothing to forgive, and I think we both better remember Eve. It's less of a surprise if she decides to seek you out..."
XXX
Their journey through the castle feels eternal when in reality castle is quite small, manor would probably be more appropriate term for it. Terra is feeling jittery and anxious. Adam at her side shows no greater emotions, but grabs her hand to his own and places a soft kiss to her palm at the door of the master bedroom. Then he scoops her on to his arms.
"You carried me the last time we slept in one bed. I think it's supposed to be the other way around..." He explains and shoulders the door open.
Room is a mess. Once decorative curtains and Gobelins hang in moldy tatters. Window is broken. Several mice seem to occupy the underside of a bed that looks to be ready to collapse if they're as much as sneeze near it. Adam really didn't plan to use it in the near future, Terra realizes. Everywhere else in the castle they have cleaned up and repaired everything that's dirty or broken.
Adam places her carefully on to the bed. Moon looms right outside the window, luminating her. He then proceeds to gather curtains, canvases and debris littering the floor and walls and throws them in to large fireplace at the foot end of the bed. There's a pile of old logs next to fireplace. He looks at Terra questioningly.
"No. Light is better this way," she whispers.
To her Adam isn't ugly by any standards. Victor Frankenstein did one favor for his creation. He used time and considered carefully which parts to use. Everything is well proportioned. Even with scars Adam looks good. In the moonlight they give him an otherwordly appearance. He sheds his jacket and it falls to the floor with loud clatter. Even here he carries the batons that gargoyles gave to him. Next to go is the hoodie. T-shirt underneath is worn an snug, sitting on him like a second skin. Terra actually tried to shop him new clothes, until he stopped her by telling her that he had no need for them. Now she's able to appreciate the dance and ripple of his muscles as he tugs the hem of the shirt from his trousers and lifts it over his head, discarding it to the same pile with jacket and the hoodie. He leaves trousers, boots and gloves on and approaches her slowly.
She's wearing a simple t-shirt, sensible bra, jeans and equally sensible cotton panties. Adam undresses her as if she wore something straight out of Victoria's secret, stopping to caress and nuzzle every exposed inch of skin. She takes this opportunity and learns again the map of the scars over his whole being with her hands, getting rid of heavy boots and trousers. When she tugs the glove on his left hand Adam stops her.
"Leave it..." He croaks with voice thick of lust and wanting. Then, bolder than she has ever seen him, he takes her hand and guides it to his erection. She grabs it gently, feeling the steely heat and his heartbeat on a throbbing vein underside of it. When Adam kisses her she strokes him. His fingers find the juncture of her thighs. She's ready for him, but he keeps prolonging the contact, letting only the tips of his fingers to dance over her with feather like caresses. When she tries to intensify the contact by moving he simply moves away from her, returning touching only when she calms down. All the while she's all over him, grazing his skin with her teeth, licking and kissing every muscle, tendon and scar she can reach. He's slowly but surely driving her crazy. Only when she's whimpering incoherently and really biting in to him he finally allows her some reprieve and parts her lower lips, sliding a finger over her clitoris. She explodes into mind numbing orgasm that leaves her breathless and wanting for more.
Adam gives her space and time to float on the bliss. He seems content on watching as she steadies her breath. Rare and fleeting smile tugs the corners of his mouth briefly. She could spend eternity just watching him. She still remembers bits and pieces of Frankenstein's journal. He didn't go in to great detail about which parts of his creation came from where, but his eyes and the top of his skull were of a young priest who had died while defending his parish from marauding group of soldiers. She likes to think that there's a tiny part of that priest still left, welded in to Adam's soul. Adam's hands are gentle. They're in his command now, but Terra understands why he likes to keep them covered. They came from a convicted murderer, and Adam has taken a life of a young innocent woman with them. She takes his hand to her own, raising it higher and letting the moon dance over the dull leather of the glove. She then pulls it closer and kisses his knuckles, raising a gasp from Adam who grabs her and pulls her on top of him.
She can feel his hard length sliding along her crevice. It goes in effortlessly, filling the void left of her earlier orgasm. Adam lets her take the charge and choose the rhythm. She finds it by listening his breathing. She can feel his heart thumping underneath her palms when she leans on his chest. It's his turn to gasp and moan. He's tearing handfuls of brittle sheet, grasping the ornamental headboard as if in great pain, eyes closed and lips parted, writhing and shivering under her ministrations. He seems determined to make it last, whenever he's about to fall over the edge he steadies her hips so that they can keep climbing towards higher peak. When she tires he flips them over, taking the lead. He keeps his eyes locked in to hers, letting her see how much this means for him. There's no mere love in those dark depths, but deep devotion. His whole existence depends on her. There's no other. There's nothing else in the whole wide world for Adam but her.