Lecile sighed and hugged her pillow tighter. She wished it would rip under her fingers, she wished to hurt something. Her lip stuck out in a pout. She had taken the day off of work, of course she had to argue with Phillip for atleast fifteen minutes before persuading him she was really truly ill. Her TV showed little cartoon characters flitting across the screen. Lecile would laugh at the dirty, crude, jokes the fat boy in the light blue hat made if she didn't feel such an intense feeling tugging at the edges of her stomach. She lifted her hand numbly and turned off the television. The room was engulfed in darkness, it wasn't comforting in any sense at all. Her body shivered, not from being cold, but from the fact she felt unsafe in her own house. Purple eyes haunted her, they scared her, all the while making her heart flutter. She was unsure of how she felt. Lecile ached badly to move, but refused to do so until figuring out her thoughts. Her forehead creased as she mulled over everything. She knew for sure she was terrified of him. Anyone in their right mind would be. At the same time thought she felt drawn to him, she wanted to observe him, she wanted to gauge his reactions. The bruise on her neck throbbed in remembrance of how far her observing got her. He looked so vulnerable at times though, almost like a lost child. He was soft and gentle and he smelt so good… She shook her head, those were all false to her. Lecile was just trying to convince herself someone like him could be human. He was dangerous, he was a murderer. Unstable even. He heard things no one else could, that alone frightened her. Lecile knew she should stay away from him, but at the same time she couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him. She grounded her teeth and clawed at the pillow. Look at her, becoming such a mess because of Matthews. She stood and walked over to her computer desk, inspecting the large wilting flower laying over her work papers. Its edges had started to shrivel, its petals were bright purple and had small black specks near the middle. A lilac. They were probably her favorite flower, if she had to choose one. She picked it up, careful not to harm it for some odd reason. Her heart started beating faster. She could clearly recall warm breath blowing across her face as the small flower was placed into her hair. A warm blush swept across her cheeks, the flower placed near her nose. Its fragrance wafted into her nostrils, it smelt clean and pure. A small smile was on her face as she placed it back upon her desk. In her hands next was her work papers. They were synopsizes of Matthews current condition. He had a severe case of bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and depression. Her forehead went into a deep crease, was this what they had summed up from her reports? It did seem partially right, something told her in her stomach though that they were completely wrong. That somehow his case was much deeper than that. Could he actually really be hearing voices that told him what he can and can't do? Was he possessed? How could she help him…? Her fists tightened on the paper, crumpling its edges. She sighed, great, even more stress on her day off. Lecile stalked into her kitchen and rummaged through her cabinets. It seemed she was going to have to opt with a bowl of cereal for the moment. She poured the sugary food into a bowl filled with cold milk. Her teeth ached before she even took the first bite. A content sigh left her lips as she chewed at the cereal, she never thought something so simple could make her feel so relaxed. Her phone rang suddenly, snapping her out of her revenge. She grumbled and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" She asked in a slightly irritated tone. The voice on the other end cleared their throat.

"Is this Ms. Jones I'm speaking to?" A man asked gruffly.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Lecile clicked her nails against the table, just simply wishing to get back to her meal. The man cleared their throat again.

"I want to tell you to stay away from him. Request someone else to take care of him. He's just going to hurt you, that's all he'll ever do." Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"W-who is this!?" She almost screamed in hysteria. Her nails ceased their clicking and now held firmly to her table.

"That doesn't matter. I'm just warning you, he was put in there for a reason. He's a murderer." The phone clicks slightly, the ringer sounded. He had hung up. Her lungs squeezed tightly in fear. Her eyes darted around the room, almost like they were trying to find someone standing in the shadows. Calling the cops would be stupid, the man obviously wasn't a threat. She was more terrified at his warning. Had he been talking about Matthews? What a stupid question, of course he had. She wanted to deny it though. Lecile wanted so badly to believe it had just been some cruel joke. Her head pounded and she gripped it in fear it would explode. She knew Matthews was dangerous, she had been trying to convince herself he wasn't. She knew how she felt about him now. She hated him. He was a killer and a rapist. He was a psycho. She finally figured out why her stomach felt weird around him, if was from fear and her great hatred. She could almost kick herself for not noticing it sooner. Somewhere deep inside her cried at her discovery, telling her it was a lie. She ignored the small voice, she refused to listen to it. Lecile wasn't going to let herself fall into his trap. She plucked a sharp knife from her counter. It needed to be carved into her, she needed to promise herself she wouldn't fall for her own mind tricks. The knife was buried into her skin of her forearm. She resisted crying out in pain. The knife moved slowly, just deep enough to leave a scar. Words were forming, a promise was forming. Her head was spinning. Blood was everywhere… There was so much she could taste it, it tasted so horrible. Hate. It was there forever, nothing could change it. Her promise to herself was to keep hating him. Her blood pooled around her and seeped into her clothes. She found the pain oddly arousing. Her tongue darted into the cut, lapping at the red liquid flowing from it. She frowned, the voice in her head was screaming now. It was begging her to wrap up her cut, to make sure she lived. The voice was desperate, almost pleading. It sounded so familiar. Matthews was contagious, she was going crazy now too. She wobbled on her feet towards the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit. She removed the gauze and bandages, wrapping them around her whole arm. The voice calmed down, murmuring its relief lightly. Her eyebrows rose, the voice was gone. Lecile summed up that she was just hallucinating from blood loss.

Sitting against a white wall a certain purple eyed man sighed in relief and rested his head against the wall. He didn't care as long as she was safe for now.

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Okay, so maybe I didn't include any smut. :( I did get a good amount of angst in there though.

MMMM is it me or do I smell a love hate relationship cooking? ;D