In the face of the Moon.
Jerome stood in front of Diamond Eye, formerly known as Sinclair. She sat behind the mayors desk and tapped her fingers against the side of her face. Jerome stood in the darkened room in a crisp black Armani suit. He stared around at the plaques and pictures and glared at the key to the city. Jerome finally caught sight of the desk and all the complaints that were splayed across the desk about him and her. His footsteps echoed as he walked further into the office
"That's far enough." The door slammed behind him. "Well you've come like a good boy."
"Man" he corrected, he kept his eyes to the floor.
"Hardly Jerome, you can't even look me in the eye."
"And risk insanity?" he looked p hoping he would meet glistening diamond orbs but only found those familiar dark pools of brown. "I must have already went insane."
"I can turn it off."
"Then why would you do this to my friends and the whole city?"
"Because you love them." She hissed. Diamond Eye placed both her black booted feet on the desk kicking the complaints on the floor. "I want you to hurt as much as you hurt me."
"Claire I didn't—"
"Don't you dare call me that! You don't have the right, Earnest!" she spat ot his name like it was the filthiest word in the English language. "You thought—" she cut herself off and looked down at the desk.
"What did I think?" he stepped closer crushing paper and glass under his feet. She shook her head and started to laugh.
"You thought wrong. Any last wishes?" she looked past him doing her best not to stare at him or meet his eyes. They were dark and sad, much like how she felt. Damn it, she didn't want to level with him. He wasn't different, he was just like the rest and like the rest, he would pay.
"Two."
"Daring today, are we?"
"A drink between old lovers, and a round of truths"
"Truths?"
"I ask you a question then you can ask me one."
"How do you know I will tell the truth Ro—Earnest"
"I'll know" he smirked, it felt good to feel some semblance of a smile on his face. The harvest moon was the only light and it shined brightly against the Mayor's desk. Two wine flutes appeared before them on the table. "You can kill me afterwards."
"With pleasure." He walked over and stood next to the winged back chair. "Well sit." He pulled off his black jacket and draped it over the chair, he could feel her eyes drinking in his body under the moonlight, and he leaned against the desk. "The chair."
"I'm a dead man walking please allow me small liberties."
"Fine." She swung her feet off the desk and a vintage brandy floated over to them. She poured their glasses halfway and stared back. "What's with the suits?"
"I'm a gentleman." She snorted in disbelief.
"Hardly."
"My turn. Why are you punishing the city because of me?"
"I want you to hurt just as badly as you hurt me." She sipped at the brandy "Starting with the ones you love most."
"Why them? Why not me?"
"You got your question now it's my turn." She sighed deeply staring at his back. "Will you ever apologize?"
"Never."
"Why?"
"Because I— hey, that's two. My turn."
"You might as well finish."
"No, my turn. Why did you kill the mayor?"
"Why not?" she snorted and looked up at the ceiling.
"That's another question not an answer."
"It's no secret who I am. I'm the illegitimate daughter of that piece of shit." She picked up the glass and drained it. "When I was six he sent men to my mother's home, they shot her execution style while I hid under the bed. It's almost as if he made me watch. As far as I'm concerned, I just did God favor." She noticed he hadn't touched his drink, he had picked it up and held it in his large hands but sat it back down. "So, when did you lose your virginity?"
"I wasn't expecting this to turn into the sleepover edition."
"Jerome just answer the damn question besides we know you don't sleep over." She stared up at him meeting his sad eyes. "There's always someone in trouble, always someone who needs to be saved. Even if that means leaving your quaint little sleepovers"
"I was fourteen and she was seventeen. Her name was Ashley, come to think of it she had the best—"
"Ahem! I didn't ask for comparisons."
"I wasn't comparing but if you'd like. I'd say she had—"
"Your question!" she said raising her voice guiding him back to reality and pulling him from memory lane. "Or we can just get on with it?"
"Right, last question."
"Over so soon?"
"You sound like you miss my company."
"Hardly."
"Do you?" he stood up and grabbed his jacket.
"Do I what?"
"Do you miss me? Do you miss having someone around who does what you say because they want to and not because they're under some trance? Don't you miss being told no?"
"Sometimes." Her voice cracked, he was the only one left. While she could have any man she wanted with this ability, or curse, however you choose to see it, she had him before this. Sinclair had him when she was just a woman running a flower shop making ends meet. She stood up in the chair and turned to look out at the large harvest moon.
"Do you still love me?" he asked, he was right behind her and had her pinned against the glass with his body.
"That's cheating!"
"So is drugging my drink?"
"How did you know?"
"As I said, I'll know." He ran his hands slowly up her arms to her shoulders and massaged them gently. "So, do you still love me?"
"I don't have a choice! I can't stop, don't you think I wanted to?!" she yelled at the glass, more at them in the glass. He stared at her drinking in all her anger and turning it into confusion. "I did really want you to die, to feel what I felt!" the words echoed in her ears, she couldn't remember her own voice. It sounded so foreign and familiar.
"What did you feel, Clair?"
"Pain, something splitting, and tearing" she pressed her hands against the glass. "There were other men," his grip on her shoulder tightened "I tried to forget you, but then I saw you with Lela. I felt like such a fool."
"Me and Lela?"
"Yes, her." She hissed.
"She was just helping me get home."
"I bet."
"Lela and I have never done anything. Not now, not ever besides I haven't even done anything with anyone since that night."
"Honestly?"
"That was the game." He felt her relax and lean into him. "Clair."
"Yes."
"Is it over?"
She waited for the feeling to come and seize her; anger, jealousy, fear, hatred and obsession. She waited for it to control her but it never came, she searched but couldn't find it. She felt tired at the least. It was gone and she had been tired of holding onto it.
"Yes, it's over." A bright light washed over the city and they watched as light filled the city again. The streets were no longer riddled with violence and chaos, it was quiet. No one wept and no one screamed, it was the purest silence since earth before man. The light touched every part of the city and every citizen fell into a deep sleep where they stood. Jerome heard the familiar rumble of a well tuned engine as it drove past the city limits. "Is something wrong?"
"No, everything is fine." He pulled them back into the chair and she curled up in his lap and they both slept. They would have a city to rebuild, a life to make together, and friends to heal. Change was on the horizon, they both dreamt of it as the moonlight washed over them.