There was once a time the feeling of teeth digging into her flesh caused a tingle of arousal to raise goosebumps on her skin. There was once a time the feeling of his hands on her waist made her arch her back in pleasure. There was once a time the feeling of his lips tracing her jawline, her collarbone, her Southern lips made her moan in ecstasy. There was once a time the sight of him made her quiver in delight.

Was. Past tense.

It was strange to fall into the bed with Malo, landing in a sweaty pile as his fingers stroked her naked body, and not be aroused. In her mind she wondered what caused her sudden disinterest in Malo sexually. Was it too much of the same old, same old? Too little interaction besides the sex they partook in seemingly every night? Or was it a creeping fear that one night Malo would wake up and forget Elizabeth was Elizabeth; devouring her in a psychotic frenzy?

Whatever it was, it made it so part of Elizabeth was dreading her midnight encounters with Malo. Of course there was that usual part of her that got tingly and sweaty in anticipation, but the terrified part of her was starting to overpower the former.

The feeling of his teeth digging into her flesh.

Claire noticed the changes and went along with them, rubbing Elizabeth's back soothingly whenever she broke, drawing warm baths and making hot tea to help ease the anxiety. She was the kind of friend Elizabeth needed, sweet and simple with a positive outlook on everything. She even put up with Elizabeth and Malo's not-so-quiet moments. If there was anyone Elizabeth couldn't live without, it was Claire. And she'd appreciate Basile's lover more than she'd ever know.

Elizabeth was sure that Malo noticed the changes, seeing as he rarely spoke to her outside of their bed chambers. He avoided her in the hall, kept his head ducked during supper, and was perpetually digging his teeth into the flesh on his palms. It wasn't as if she wasn't trying to enjoy his company, to feel pleasure in his touch, it was that she couldn't. It was a puzzle she didn't have the time, or the energy, to solve.

The feeling of his fingernails digging into her back.

Slowly, Elizabeth walked up the twisting staircase to her bedroom, not knowing exactly what to expect when she opened the door to her chamber. Would it be a bored looking Malo, possibly reading a book or tasting his own palm? Would it be Malo in an overly exaggerated sexy position in a desperate attempt to rekindle the romantic spark that had, inevitably, died.

Or he wouldn't be there at all, as Elizabeth discovered when she entered. Instead, Claire was busy tidying up. She dusted the piano, remade the four poster bed, and replaced the withered roses on the nightstand with blooming, red tulips. Of course sweet, innocent Claire would chose the flower meaning true love during this time of angst and misery.

The feeling of his lips tracing her collarbone.

"Thank you, Claire." Elizabeth sighed as she turned her back to the maid, unlacing the front of her dress and letting it fall to the ground. "Will you please hand me the lavender nightgown?" She waited for the cotton fabric to brush her fingertips before pulling her slip from her body, listening as Claire scurried to collect the discarded garments and toss them into the wash basket. "Thank you, again, Claire. That will be all. Good night."

"Goodnight, mademoiselle," Claire said, giving her usual curtsy before opening the door and slipping through it, closing it with a faint click.

The sound of door creaking open as he snuck into her chamber.

Elizabeth sighed, running the silver brush through her long locks as she went to her bed, sitting on the mattress. Maybe it was time for her and Malo to move on, having worn their bodies out from the angry biting and rough hair pulling; but at the same time Elizabeth longed to feel his arms wrap around her body and hear his heartbeat as she held her ear against his chest. She wondered if Malo felt the same way or if he was already moving on to another conquest.

She laid her head upon the pillows, wiping the tear from her eye as she studied the ceiling. Her fingers itched to perform his melody; the song she composed but had never performed in his presence, but she made herself pick up a book instead. Gulliver's Travels wasn't the most entertaining book, but it was enough to make her stop thinking of Malo until the sweet bliss of sleep came.

The sound of his voice moaning her name into her ear.

She wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up, the moon being hidden behind thick clouds, but something didn't feel quite right. Her room was awkwardly quiet, the kind of quiet that was suspicious and nerve racking. The room felt colder than it had when she had dozed off, and the book she had rested open in her lap was now closed on her night table. A silent alarm tripped in her mind, warning her against standing and walking to the door.

But she did it anyways, blinking several times in order to adjust her eyes to the light. The wooden floors creaked under her feet as she made her way to the door, her head buzzing with different scenarios of what was about to play out. Was Justine ready to exact her revenge on Elizabeth for stealing Malo? Was Malo in a fit of rage induced psychosis? Had Basile gotten too rough with poor Claire?

The look of his eyes, lustful and hungry as he grinded against her.

"One..." she whisper-counted to herself, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Two..." her hand fell onto the doorknob, turning it as she released her breath. "Three..."

She yanked the door open, staring into the empty corridor as her heart sank into her stomach. She had been afraid for nothing, really. It was just her midnight paranoia sinking in like other nights when she woke too soon from a light sleep. And then, behind her, she heard a laugh. His laugh.

The sound of his deep laugh echoing around the room as he made his exit.

"Elizabeth, darling," he said as his hands brushed her waist, pulling her against his solid body. "You're not very good at hide and seek," his lips brushed her ear, tracing her lobe down to her jawline as he continued to whisper teasingly, "Shall we give it another go?"

"Why, Malo? Why?" Elizabeth asked, more for herself than for him, as his hands ran up her body, playfully grabbing at her breasts. "Why these pretenses?"

The feeling of his arms holding her naked body against his, their sweat mixing between them.

He laughed again, spinning her around so she was looking up to him. "Pretenses? What pretenses?" his eyes flickered playfully as he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, softly biting into the scarred flesh.

"That you still care." Elizabeth could feel her heart rate pick up as a look of shock overcame Malo's face. Maybe it was too much for her to expect love from a cannibal. His red hair fell into his eyes, the long strand brushing Elizabeth's lips as she waited for his response. He seemed at a loss for words, possibly for the first time since he uttered his first syllables.

His hands holding onto Elizabeth's hair, pulling firmly but gently.

"I've always cared, Elizabeth," he said as he leaned down, his breath hot on her face. "Don't you see? It's always been you." And with that, he kissed her.