It had been months now, since you and Jerome became a thing, and in the midst of your time together you thought he would be yours forever. You stitched him up, gave him love, and put your heart inside him. He was your teddy bear. He used to be so comforting and quiet, so it made you wonder: how could love become so violent?
He used to be so innocent, so sweet, and pure, but as time passed you noticed him getting almost... darker. Sometimes his jokes had more malice than mirth. Sometimes his pranks ended with tears. But that was fine. That was just your Jerome, not always aware of his limits, you figured. But then it didn't stop there. You were finding knives under the sheets of his bed and crumpled photographs of you. You found yourself sleeping with one eye open every time he was next to you, staying up late wondering what the hell was happening to him, this wasn't who he was before. You were so frightened to approach him, ask him about it because you knew it wouldn't get you anywhere, it would probably just make him angrier. He had this new born temper that you didn't understand, maybe it was because he was fed up with his mom, his boring repetitive life at the circus, or maybe he was just sick of you. What scared you even more was how he could change his emotions on a whim, one second he would be yelling at you, voice straining from how loud and hoarse it could get, and then the next minute he would be stroking your cheek with his long fingers, telling you just how much you meant to him. It was so terrifying how he could paralyze you.
Sometimes when he called you on your phone, he would just breathe deep into it, and it instantly sent a shiver down your spine. He would do this until you hung up, not saying anything in response no matter how many times you called his name, and that was one of the many indicators that something was very wrong.
You felt like the bad parts were worth it if you could still have the good parts, but then eventually you didn't think they were worth it anymore, so you had to throw him out, because you didn't know him. But now he was back. You were unprepared and so fucking scared.
It was the worst kind of weather for this. Or the best, depending on how you looked at it. It was beginning to rain, thankfully just sprinkles, but it was difficult to see through the heavy, thick fog that had spread over the city. It crept through the streets, smothered all the alleys, and only made it hard for you to breathe as you ran.
One breath, then another, and another.
You stopped dead in your tracks at a crossroads filled alleyways, one splitting off in each of six directions and each only perceptible for a couple feet in this fog. Hadn't you been here about five minutes ago? Or had that been a different cross section? You couldn't tell. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, so loud that you could hear each frantic beat, breath burning as you gasped while leaning against the corner of two alleys. You didn't have time to stand around and debate where to go. He could be here at any moment and you had to leave, now. You couldn't allow yourself to get caught. Every move had to be perfectly calculated.
You selected one without giving it much thought and ran, taking off like a shot down yet another narrow space where you could only see a few feet in front of your face. You had to get back out of here, go somewhere crowded, with people, populated, but even then you wouldn't feel safe. You didn't know if it was even possible to feel safe anymore. Not from Jerome. He was much too clever for that, and his intimate knowledge of Gotham's streets was only making this all the more difficult. You weren't secure in the back alleys, but you weren't protected in the open either, were you? There was no possible way you could win this game. The game was rigged in his favor, no matter how you looked at it. Maybe it was best if you just gave up, gave in...
No you couldn't. You couldn't let him win that easily.
You took a hasty turn to the right and compressed yourself flat against the wall, certain someone was about to come this way. Sure that he had caught up by now and your only chance would be to get him to run past you and then double back. But no one came. The fog stayed where it was, murky, filling the air as it went, and your brows furrowed in frustration. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, thumping insistently upon the pavement. Or it was possible that was just your erratic heartbeat. You didn't know if you could distinguish the two anymore. Your legs ached, all your muscles burned with the effort of running for so long, and you could hardly breathe. You were so exhausted, and you knew exactly how this was going to end. You had a vision of how it was going to play out in your head already.
There was no way you could outrun him, so why were you even attempting? It was because you knew what he was.
"No need to be so alarmed, dollface. You see, it's simple, really. Allow me to explain..."
You shuddered, the voice was just a work of your imagination, you had to keep telling yourself. You looked about frantically before you bolted off again without a second thought. Finally, a street there–! You dashed into the street, casting brief glimpses around the area. Deserted, the entire area was empty, and still covered in that suffocating fog that the streetlamps barely managed to peek through. You didn't know where else you could go. You looked over your shoulder, getting the eerie feeling once again that you were being watched, that Jerome was just behind that building there, or in that doorway. Or anywhere for that matter. There always seemed like a pair of eyes was watching your every move.
"I didn't want you to find out this way. There was so many times I wanted to tell you myself, at the right time, of course. Oh well."
Run. That was all you could do right now. You went down another street, darting off to some place where there should be people around. There was no one. You were all alone. Not a single person and your speed gradually picked up with each noiseless building you passed, until you were running again. A sound to your left, you jerked away, immediately taking off down an alley to your right. You ran again and again and again until you felt lightheaded and had to take a break, setting a hand to the wall to balance yourself as you bent over to just try to catch a breath. You had been hurtling for what felt like hours at full tilt and you knew there was only so much your body could handle before it just shut down. You didn't know how much longer you could last, but you knew that Jerome would be able to. He would win. No matter the outcome of tonight; you knew he was going to win.
Thump – then another thump. You stood upright, immediately silencing your breathing as you listened on. There, footsteps, coming towards your way. As quietly as you could, you changed positions, skimming against the wall until you reached three trash bins, obscuring yourself between them so that you were completely out of sight. Not even caring about the rats that lurked around that space. You glanced about in an attempt to find the source of the noise, resting your head back against the wall and observing the small sliver of space between the trash bin and the wall. There was another heavy thump as a dark figure sprang down from the roof to the pavement. He was stooped over and then straightaway straightened up. Only some of their profile except the head and feet in your view. From your position, you could only spot a dark coat and a hand covered in a black leather glove.
You didn't make a sound as the figure turned their head in each direction, no doubt looking for the object of its search. You weren't sure if it was your imagination or not, but you could have sworn you heard the sound of that oh-so familiar dark chuckle resounding on the walls before they swept down into one of the alleys, away from you. Maybe you were going to be okay.
You didn't move a muscle, frozen where you were as your heart tried to remember how to beat at a regular pace. So now you knew how he was able to track you so well. Jerome had been traveling along the rooftops. Your body was somehow perfectly still, placid under the peril it faced even though your mind had become completely overwrought because that had been so close. Too close. Maybe it would be okay if you remained here. If you just continued hiding. You were safe here. He wouldn't find you. There was no way he was going to, now.
You wished things could be that easy, and there a voice screaming in the back of your head telling you how dead wrong you were. He would probably realize he took the wrong way and take another route. You knew your spot wasn't the best place to hide. You figured it would be better getting caught on the run than being found near a limited space. It took you several moments to get moving again, and even then it was very slowly. Your legs were burning in protest as you finally stood from your crouching position. You tottered to the end of the alley, shooting a swift glance down the past he took before heading in the opposition direction, walking as fast as your legs could carry you. This way only led to even more alleys and corners and dead ends, but there was no way you were going back, not when he had been so close just moments ago. Now that you knew Jerome was using roofs to help him out, you stuck to the sides of buildings, bent low, and hoping with everything you had that the fog would cover you from that pale, shiver-inducing gaze.
Every single step away from where you had seen him only served to make your heart pound harder. Perhaps it was the fog, weighing heavily on you in body and in mind, but you just didn't feel any safer when you knew you were heading in the opposing direction of your pursuer. You found yourself looking over your shoulder repeatedly, certain that at any moment you were going to feel a hand on it and have to face him. Face what you found out. Face everything you had been running away from.
"You see, this doesn't have to change anything, doll. It doesn't concern you in any way, just as long as you let me do as I please. There's no need to fight about this now, is there?"
You rushed into another street, finally this one, thank God, a couple of people in it, though they were all hustling home, no doubt trying to escape this dreadful weather. Maybe you could duck into a shop and take shelter there. Though you weren't sure what you could do next. Sit and wait around to be caught? No, you couldn't, that would be equivalent to surrender, because even though Jerome– theoretically, wouldn't be able to do anything in an enclosed space near witnesses, he would still know exactly where you were, could wait until the shop closed up and you both had to leave. You knew you wouldn't manage to run from him again. Besides, stopping and waiting around would only make it seem like you were all too eager to get caught, like you were just waiting for Jerome to find you. Well, you were just waiting for Jerome to find you, but that was due to the fact that you knew it was an inevitability, not that you wanted him to.
Though the more exhausted you got, the more tempting the idea became. Maybe you should just give in to him. Your body was screaming to give up. Maybe it was time to face your fate, whatever that was going to be.
No you couldn't. You just couldn't. You had to keep going. The fighter in you wouldn't let you, and besides, if you were going to have any chance at all of stopping him you very well couldn't do it from within his grasp. There would be nothing, at all, that you could do if he caught you. No, better that you continued walking down this street, hands tucked in your pockets and collar up against the cold, hurrying along like you were just another person making their way back home. You wondered: When did your life get like this? Why did it have to change? Why did everything have to change? Only a few weeks ago, you had been happy, somewhat, with Jerome, trusting the boy who was now stalking you through the streets, being in bed with the boy who could now very well kill you. Your life had never exactly been the most normal, but this really took the cake.
The people on the street were starting to disappear. No, no, no, they couldn't go, they had to stay with you because if they were around, you'd be okay. Your heart throbbed painfully as you realized that once again you were completely and utterly alone. You glanced anxiously behind your shoulder as you walked towards the darkened street, hoping that this would end up connecting you to a main road, somewhere with actual people that would actually hang around. You looked over your shoulder again and froze up completely. There was a dark shape. A very tall dark shape. A dark shape that was approaching rapidly in your direction. He found you. This was it.
You took off like lightning, sprinting down the street and looking about madly for somewhere, any place that you could hide. You managed to turn a corner and found an alleyway to cower into, pressing yourself against the wall as you held your breath. A few moments later, the person you had seen earlier went by, and they were simply jogging. You had been totally scared out of your mind by a mere jogger. What a relief. You hunched over, setting your hands on your knees as you took a few slow, deep breaths to ease the tight, hot pressure in your chest. You were going to kill yourself like this. Jumping at every single shadow and constantly feeling that prickling sensation at the back of your neck like a pair of eyes was watching you at all times. Sure, it was alarming that you had no idea where Jerome was, but at the same time, it was more likely than not that he was nowhere near you, considering the opposing directions you both took after briefly crossing paths. Somehow, that thought did nothing to comfort you.
You straightened your body again, looking about the area to see if you could spot anyone in close proximity. No, the fog was still surrounding the air, obscuring your view for the most part, unfortunately. So the question now was whether to continue on the path you had been taking on the street, or try the alleys again. Considering the heart attack you almost head with the jogger, maybe alleys was a smarter choice. You could always duck back out to the street if needed.
Another breath.
You pushed off the wall, hurrying down an alley that ran parallel to the street. You weren't running now, you knew your legs would fail you if you did, but you were still moving quickly enough, and definitely keeping a sharp eye out for Jerome. You couldn't afford to be caught now. But it seemed that you were alone with your heart thumping wildly in your ears, still hopped up on adrenaline and reluctant to shut off again. It was worst, like that, the city was filled with an eerie silence, and all you could hear was your own carefully regulated breathing and your rabbit heartbeat, a symphony of your terror when combined with your footsteps on the pavement. You tried to keep noise at a minimum, the best you could because you knew anything, anything at all could help Jerome find you. Though, you both knew how this was going to end, so why were you running? You could just give up, surrender to him. Would he really hurt you? Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he did love you. Maybe there was hope. Maybe...
"Aw, why the long face? I already know what you're thinking, and it's not going to get you anywhere. No matter what you do, or how fast you run, no matter where you hide, I will find you. And I will bring you back here so we can play again. So don't even think about it. Stay here with me."
Because you were a fighter and Jerome was a monster and you had to. That was it. There was no other option but to try and fight this. You weren't going roll over and bare your throat like a good little dog, not after all the trouble you went through. You were not his pet, and you wouldn't follow orders like one, especially not in this case. No, you couldn't.
You exhaled deeply, taking a right turn and–then, all of a sudden there. There, that was a street. An actual street, with bright lights and people walking about, a bustling one, a place that you could hide for the time being, yes, this was it, maybe this was going to turn out okay after all. Everything was going to be okay. You quickly started towards it, forgetting any sense of caution for the moment because it was only a few feet away and you were going to be safe there, without a doubt in your mind. And just as you reached the end, Jerome stepped out in front of you and engulfed you in his arms.
"Tag you're it!" he exclaimed.
A hand went to cover your mouth, the other one holding you flush against him as you started to writhe, trying to shout for help at the same time. He slid in close, his baritone barely above a rumble in your ear as he murmured, "You've reached the end, you are the winner!" he laughed darkly before he continued, "Scream or fight against me, and well, I'll just find another person to chase," he rasped. Your thrashing instantly ceased upon those words, knowing exactly how big of a threat that was, and also knowing this was sheer manipulation on his part. "That's a good girl," he nearly purred in your ear, and then turned you around in his arms. "Now let's go somewhere more private so we can talk, you've spent too long avoiding it," he said, clicking his tongue in disapproval.
He pushed you forward, back into the alley, with a hand on the small of your back. You obeyed the shove because you didn't think you had any other choice. You knew this was going to happen, of course it was, but that didn't mean you were prepared for it, not even in the slightest. Your heart had definitely decided that it wasn't, judging by how much it hammered away at your chest.
"Calm down," his voice murmured in your ear, and was that–yes, his hand was tracing soothing circles on your lower back like that would somehow fix things. "Hush, little baby, I'm not going to hurt you. No, you know me, I wouldn't ever want to do that."
"That's not very comforting," you replied, your voice still managing to snap just slightly at him. "Not when I just caught what you did to your mother."
He growled low in his throat, and suddenly you found yourself spun around, with your back against the brick wall behind you and his body pressed up against yours, his hands pinning your wrists to the wall. "Not sure if you forgot or not, but as I already explained earlier, this has nothing to do with you," he said, his voice lower and hoarser than usual in a way that sent a chill down your spine. "Nothing," he repeated.
"You could have just listened to me. I don't want to hurt you, doll, not at all. What I did to her has nothing to do with you, so why don't we just kiss and make up already?" he grinned widely, looking at you more like you were his prey than his lover, "I feel like I'm just missing something whenever you leave, which is why we need to stop playing hide and seek."
"You're a killer, Jerome," your voice was surprisingly strong and clear as your body shuddered against him. "I don't see how that has nothing to do with me, your girlfriend. You're a killer, for God's sake," you whispered, panic making its way into your last few words.
You wanted to struggle against him, at least try to escape this, but remembered the earlier warning and stayed still, as difficult as that was. His blue-green eyes seemed to catch yours, a gleam coming into them that made you anything but comfortable. As if the ginger had just realized exactly how much power he had and was already planning how to use it.
"Don't play the victim," he said in a sickly low whisper, "I would never want to hurt you, doll. You mean too much to me."
Your blood turned to ice as you thought those five words. Once upon a time you would have been overjoyed to hear them. Now you were trapped and scared and just realizing there was a hardness against your thigh.
"Jerome..." you said, far too stunned to say anything more, and he inched closer to you in response, pressing the advantage he knew he had.
"I know what you're thinking, you think I'm nuts—I'm mad. You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone," he said in a sing-song voice as he watched you tremble against his body, "but I still want you, doll. Just forget about what you saw back there, it doesn't matter, at all."
"Doesn't matter?" you asked somewhat dazedly, and suddenly started to struggle in his firm hold on you, shaking your head in protest. "No, no, let me go, please just let me go. I can't– This is insane. You're insane," you stuttered.
"Ooh, honey, you don't want me now?" his voice was as soft as velvet, and even more smothering. "You know I can't do that," he cooed, "I still need you," he transferred his grip of your wrists to one hand, the other trailing down to your face, examining every detail of it. He spread his fingers out, cupping your cheek, and squeezed gently, ignoring your attempts to move away. "I know you're enjoying this. The danger. The chase. The thought of belonging to a dangerous man. You get off on this sort of thing, I know you do," he slid in closer, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear as he breathed. "I know that's why you let yourself get caught."
"No I didn't–"
"Oh I know, I know, not consciously," he said, beginning to gently knead your cheek with his fingers, and you found yourself inching into his touch, mentally kicking yourself for it, and you fought the urge not to gasp as his hardness pressed into your center. "On a conscious level you were putting up a fight, resisting, because a part of you thought it would be best to hide. But subconsciously," his hand moved to your shoulder, stroking it with such a gentle touch that you found yourself missing. "you were taking paths that would be easy for me to find. Skirting the edges of familiar neighborhoods but never venturing into them. Going into well lit, easily visible streets where the fog wasn't quite so heavy and there was plenty of rooftops for me to see you from. Even," he breathed as he slipped his hand down your shoulder, leather glove between your arm now, "running in circles, on occasion. You wanted me to catch you, doll. But you liked the chase. That was the fun part of it. You wanted to play cat and mouse across Gotham, but still get caught by the cat," he paused, lingering his fingers around the skin of your arm before he palmed the soft mounds of your breasts, and you were ashamed to say that you felt yourself getting wetter by the minute.
Something about the fact that he still had his gloves on was making everything worse. He could have killed people in those gloves, for all you knew. And here you were, leaning into the touch of his warm palm. You realized a second too late what you were doing and then you felt his wide smile against the skin of your neck before he bit down harshly. You emitted a whine and his voice returned to your ear, saying, "Remember, you have the power to save someone right now, it's up to you, so I'd behave myself if I were you."
You bit down hard on your lower lip, trying to keep those noises from pouring out as he nipped and sucked away at the bite mark, his hand slowly outlining your arousal through your pants. It was a long moment before he spoke up again, and when he did his voice was ragged, prompting the awful realization in you that he was getting off on this. On your fear. You had to forcefully pull yourself back into the moment, ice freezing up your veins, in danger of stopping your pounding heart.
"You can't lie to me, so don't even try," he started, and you could hear the want in his tone. "You never could, doll, but especially not in this. You can't honestly tell me that you don't love me anymore. I knew since the second you ran that everything was going to end up–Like. This," his fingers lingered around your thigh, not touching the area that ached for him.
You looked at him with watery eyes before you had the power to stop them from pouring, tears blocking your vision, and you turned away from him but he quickly seized your chin and forced you back to face him. "Don't be such a crybaby. You still love me. Don't fucking act like you don't," he whispered, and you felt lips against the sensitive skin of your throat, receiving no warning before there was a sudden flash of teeth again. You let out a soft squeak upon the sudden contact, and you felt another smile against your skin before he bit down harder. The worst part was at this point, sensations were blurring, everything was blending together in your haze. You were caught somewhere between the sting of the bite and the pleasure caused by his wet, gentle kisses upon the tender skin, laving over them as if apologizing for it. You realized with a start that he was licking off blood. You hadn't even realized you were bleeding.
"It's so much better like this, isn't it? When you know the real me, what I can do, and still you didn't run, well not really. You came back to me, doll. You're going to make me weak like this," he exhaled, burying his nose against the crook of your neck.
"No, I didn't," you managed to croak out, knowing exactly how unconvincing you sounded. "I didn't come back, Jerome."
"Oh, but you did," he answered, his lips had made its way back up to your ear, his hot breath causing you to shudder. "Just fucking admit it already you bitch," he rasped, making you wince upon the sudden whisper that seemed to echo through the alley. "If I told you I wouldn't stop you if you ran away now, wouldn't hurt anyone even after you did it, would you? Or would you stay here with me?"
The sad part was, at the moment, you didn't even know if you had an answer for that question. You knew what you were supposed to say–no, no, of course not, you'd run as far away as you possibly could and never come back, but the words seemed stuck in your throat behind a moan that you couldn't quite hold back. He was grinning wider now, and there was a sharp nip to your ear before he was moving his head again, seeking out your lips. You only stilled when he pulled back slightly, his hand tortuously stroking your breasts and the other pressed against your thigh with more fervor now.
"I'll tell you a secret," he started in a whisper, "I still want you. I don't think I could live without you if I'm being honest. But we need to stop going round and round like this, it's only going to get boring for me," he said as a pout made its way on his lips.
You made eye contact with him in fear of him yelling at you again, and the sight of his eyes, nearly pools of black with how wide his pupils were blown, sent something hot unfurling down your spine to pool in your lower abdomen. There was no denying it at this point. You were unbearably, unbelievably aroused, despite what you found out today, despite the fact that the boy whose hand was currently touching you belonged to a killer, the same hand he used to kill someone. His eyes were moving rapidly between both of yours, narrowed slightly in a deductive stare, and you could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears even louder than it had been before.
"Jerome," you breathed, "I – I just miss that boy I fell in love with back at the circus, back when we used to play games together, and we would just spend nights together talking in your trailer. I miss you. This is not you," you shook your head, and he sighed, uttering one of disappointment.
"Of course, you liked who I was before, the one who let himself be bossed around by his piece of shit mother, and the one who zipped his mouth shut and did whatever was told of him. That's who you fucking love?" he reached his hand out to grab your neck but instead fought against it, and he dropped your wrists down without a care, letting them return to your sides. You flinched, taking in a deep breath to steady your heartbeat, if that was even possible again.
"I still love you, Jerome, just please don't do this, please don't, I still love you," you wept, and he returned his hand to your cheek, letting the hot tears slide against his warm palm, caressing the wet skin. He smiled wickedly when you told him, an odd mix of sympathy, joy, and pity in his eyes as he gazed at you.
"Then stop looking so sad, dollface, it pains me to see you like this," he whispered somewhat sadly.
"I just want things to go back to the way they were," you whispered under your breath, and you could see the grimace on his face when you said that but it quickly switched to a sinister smile. "I love you, I do," you uttered quietly, and it only made him smirk in amusement before his face turned solemn.
He leaned in to kiss you suddenly, it was deep, possessing, and claiming. Your mouths slotted together perfectly, and he reached his hand up to cup the back of your head, holding onto it with a firm grip as he licked into your mouth. You thought back to your first kiss with him, when you both went back at your place to spend the night watching a movie, and how you barely ended up watching it because you were both so distracted from the taste of one another's lips. Remembering that, you smiled briefly against his lips and then a sharp nip from his teeth brought you back to the present. Teeth and tongues and lips met, clashed, withdrew, and met again as you both tried to devour each other.
The kissed last forever and not long enough. He pulled back, flushed, breath a little erratic and with that little smile at the corners of his eyes. He kept eye contact with you as he deliberately licked his lips then hummed in contemplation.
"You don't know how much of a relief it is to know that you still love me," he murmured, and smiled weakly at him before it died. "Now let's go back to my place," his voice was layered in deep authority, commanding in a way that you didn't think you could fight against. "We're going back home, and things are going to change between us, they have to. But you're not going to report me or try running away again, are you?" he asked. You shook your head, barely managing the motion and acting on instinct. Anything, you would do anything to feel his lips against yours again, but most importantly, trying to find your way out of this ordeal.
His hands tightened on your hips the second you tensed as if you were going to run away, and you turned slowly to face him again. "I thought we agreed," he said in a dark tone. "You're not going to run away so I don't have to hurt anyone. Isn't that right, dollface?"
You slowly nodded, knowing that was really the only answer you could give, and he smiled, and God, it was such a chilling sight. His gloved hand remained on your cheek, pale eyes intently fixed on you. You both stayed like that for a breathless moment, neither of you moving, until you broke the silence.
"Please, Jerome..." you whispered, but the sentence didn't have any end, because you weren't sure how you were trying to end it. Please let me go? Please don't kill anyone else? Please put your hand on me again and touch me? There was nothing you could say, because you knew none of it was going to make a difference. He had you exactly where he wanted you, and you both knew it.
He leaned his forehead against yours, sharing his air with you. "Back to my place?" he asked this time, and all you could manage in response was a slight, minuscule dip of your head to indicate yes. Yes because you had no choice but to return home with your killer boyfriend and try to forget that this had ever happened. That you had ever even had a chance, no matter how small, to be free.
The marks of your neck only served to remind you of what exactly had just happened. There was no way you were going to be able to forget, was there? All of this was seared into your memory, and would always remain so as much as you wanted to wish it away.
He finally straightened up, his hand slipping from your face to your hand, linking fingers with you in a gesture that once upon a time, you were so ecstatic to receive. Now you just felt hollow, resigned to your fate and fearing what your life would be like after you left these alleyways. Until he stopped in his tracks, making you freeze up when he did.
"Jerome?" you asked, your voice higher than usual. And then, it was only an instant later before he shoved you back into the wall, his lips automatically finding yours in the haze of his desire. You grabbed the lapels of his coat, yanking him forward, crashing your lips together with the most passionate force. It seemed as though he made a little sigh of relief into the kiss, and you let yourself get lost in the comforting warmth of his mouth, as your lips, soft and smooth, moved together.
He smoothed his hands upwards, cupping both sides of your jaw as you parted your lips, allowing his tongue in, letting him taste you. Your tongues were desperate, hunger fueling you both as you remained in sync. Your hands started to move, grappling with each other's clothes, pulling each other closer. Finally, he pulled away, breathing for a moment, "Fuck, I want you so badly," he breathed out as he rested his head on your shoulder, kissing along the line of your collar.
"I love you, Jerome, please, I don't love you any less, I did want you to catch me, I did, okay? I just want things to be okay, between us, and I was scared that it wouldn't be so that's why I ran away," you tried to explain, and you wondered in the back of your head if you were saying it in hopes that he wouldn't kill you or if you truly did mean what you said, you weren't even sure.
"You don't think I'm entirely bonkers?" he asked as he pressed a couple of gentle kisses to your neck before he started with the little sucks of kisses and nips that had you gripping onto his hair.
"No," you answered instantly, though there was reluctance wavering in your tone, which you hoped he didn't notice so you quickly added, "no, I don't think so."
"Heh," he only smirked, and it left an unsettling feeling in your stomach, making you quiver against him. You sighed out as he brought a hand up to your face, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. He moved upwards, kissing over your jaw then all the way back to your lips where the kiss was slower this time, lingering, like he didn't ever want to let you go. But the kiss quickly grew sloppy as you started to rock your hips against his, and moans escaped at the delicious feeling of friction between you two. He held onto the back of your head tighter as he tilted his head for a better angle, breathing your name softly in the kiss.
His hands were stroking your sides before digging painfully in under your ribs.
"Jerome, wha-" you uttered, he bit at your lower lip, drawing blood and it quickly ran down your chin to your neck. Suddenly, his right hand was in a death grip around your neck, left tracing light patterns on your taut stomach before clenching one of your hips with bruising force. You gasped as he sped up the movements of his fingers on your abdomen, blood welling under both sets of fingernails. Your own hands scrabbled desperately at the wrist pinning your throat, making breathing a difficult ordeal. "Jerome," you croaked, "Jerome, please- please-" you broke into coughs, trying to draw air into your aching lungs. You realized that he was laughing, and you blinked tears out of your eyes to stare at him.
"This hurts me just as much as it hurts you, doll," he murmured, face in total shadow save for the glint of his white grin. He released your neck for a moment to rake savagely down your chest, grip returning before you had the presence of mind to block him. You clawed at his arm, pushing ineffectually at his chest. "Wh—Why?" you gasped, trying to distract him, find a moment, anything. Keep him talking, maybe he would slip up, reconsider...
"I didn't want to have to do this, but I can't take any chances, I can't have you running away from me again, as much as I want to keep you," he said in a saddened tone, like it actually did hurt him to have to do this, and he stroked your cheek fondly with his other hand. "I know you're trying to play me for a fucking fool, you're just trying to sweet talk me, persuade me into keeping you around, but I can't allow that, I can't, you're only going to hold me back," he rasped, that dark, sinister tone returning.
"I — I would never—"
"Such a shame too, I thought you would always love me for me, but you don't, doll, you don't, and don't you fucking dare say it again, because I will make this worse on you if I have to," he hissed. He pulled his hand away from your cheek to kiss it tenderly, and chuckled darkly. "My sweet, sweet doll, why did you have to make me do this? I didn't want it to have to come to this, did you really think I wanted this?" he whispered as you choked against his tightening grip. "You still look so pretty, even like this, it almost makes me want to change my mind," he cocked his head to the side, grin distorted in your tear-blurred vision.
How did love become so violent?
"I — I lo—"
He was your teddy bear.
"I'll pour one out for you, doll," he sang, "I'll never forget you, ever, you'll always have a special place in my heart," he murmured. "I'm going to miss you, but who the fuck knows? Maybe we'll see each other again some day, but, for now it's goodbye," he finished with a slight frown before a cruel smile made its way to his lips. With that, his right hand closed around you, crushing your windpipe; his left hand carved another set of bleeding nail lines into your side.
You felt your stomach drop into ice, disparity curling in your abdomen. He watched until you died.
You should have kept running. You should have. Maybe then, you would have made it. Maybe then, you would still be alive.
The last thing you felt was a bloodied fingertip gently wiping away your tears.