Chapter Six

Author's Notes: One, I just want to mention that I do think Kilgrave was despicable. I don't condone what he did, but I can't help but love the character. I mean, it's David Tennant people! (My future husband if this was a dream realm). Anyway, thank you all for the amazing comments! It makes me so happy that people actually like my story lol. I have no confidence in my writing so you guys really do help me out so much. Thankies. 3 And I'm deff going to be checking out iZombie soon! ^-^ Oh, and I've been considering putting a playlist togerher of songs that I felt went with the characters. What'cha think?

Evelynn's POV

"Would you please just have a glass of wine?" Kilgrave asked for the hundredth time while we sat in the living room. I sat on the arm rest of the old sofa, not exactly open to making things "cozy". "I told you, I don't want any. Damn." I rejected the wine again, making him sigh in frustration. "Look, what I have to say may be easier for you to swallow if you were more relaxed." He added, setting down the wine glass on the glass table in front of us.

The room itself was honestly very comfortable, from what I could tell. The lights had been dimmed and a fire was going, but the room was decorated to give a homely feel to it. I idly wondered why. I could feel, although vaguely, the growing terror of his little house staff. The confusion as the moved about, going to one task from the next against their will, it made me sick to my core.

"I'm a big girl, I'll manage." I replied, turning my attention back to the broody British man sitting across from me. He held his hands up as a sign of defeat and drank the glass he'd poured for me.

I let my eyes wonder, ever so conscious that his were fixed on me. That intense, burning stare that would pull me apart if I got caught up in it. Never did I let my eyes settle on him. I decided to take a closer look at a painting that hung on the wall, it was so unlike the others.

The colors were dark, but it just showed of pain. Each stroke, each shape...I could just feel the pain the artist felt. I ran my fingers across the canvas, admiring the piece. I never liked art much until later on in my life, and I always found myself drawn to darker pieces such as the one in front of me.

"Do you like it?" The thick British accent invaded my thoughts, his eyes never left me. I sighed to myself and nodded, turning around "Yes, it's beautiful."

"You think so? I think it's a bit dark." He commented, coming to my side to look at the painting as well. "I've always thought the the darkest things in life tend to become the most beautiful, when seen in the right angle." I replied quietly, noticing how close he stood next to me. The slightest shift of my weight and we'd be touching. "Well..." He trailed off, looking over at me now. His eyes, always burning into me. I wasn't sure if I hated it or loved it. "That's an interesting perspective." I shrugged at his comment, watching as he went back to sit down, staring at the ceiling. "Who's the artist?" I asked, thinking maybe I'd like to meet them if they were still alive. Pain is something I knew well, maybe this artist and I had something in common.

"Oh, I painted it. I've always loved art." He replied, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. I stared at him, no way he felt any sort of pain. His eyes met my disbelieving stare, smiling. "What?" He asked in a playful kind of way, making me turn away. I didn't like how easily I could forget that he was a monster, I had to keep remembering. But, when he smiled and looks at me like that, I just forget. I forget everything, the only thing I can see is a man with eyes that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

"I guess I just didn't think you'd be much of a painter." I lied, going back to my spot on the arm rest, tapping my fingers on my knees. "There's a lot about me you don't know, Evelynn." He replied, a smile in his voice. I needed to hurry this up, if I can get what I want out of him, I could lock myself away in one of these rooms and leave before he knew it. I didn't have to stay, I wouldn't. Not here, where he made me feel like I was being seduced by Casanova rather than The Devil.

"So, time to talk Zombie man." I said after a few moments of silence, he nodded in agreement. "Where do you want to start?" He asked, patting the sofa cusion next to him. I looked at the spot, ignored it and shrugged "How did you know about the necklace?" I asked, it was something that had been bugging me for a long time. The necklace was exactly like my mother's. It shined just like her's. When I wore it, it felt like her's did. Everything was just like her's.

"The necklace? Well, how I knew that is also the answer to another question." He replied, his tone matching my own. I raised an eyebrow, are we going to play the elusive game? I didn't have the patience for that right now. I felt...odd. There was a knot in my stomach and I felt like I had a mild fever, maybe I was coming down with something.

"Which question?" I asked, looking over at him. He smiled "What exactly happened that night, that glorious night in the morgue."

I closed my eyes, I couldn't get it out of my head. I remember everything, especially the fact that he was in my head...and I in his.

"After you ran off the way you did, I was just as confused and scared as you honestly. I found a doctor, well...Not really a doctor, that's just his title. Anyway, I had him sort out what happened to me, to us. After a few tests and my repeating the story a painful numbers of times, he figured it out." He started, pouring himself another glass of wine. The British really like their wine, don't they?

"He told me you some how had locked onto what was left of my telepathic energy, and somehow through that you brought my consciousness back. You telepathically were able to, in essence, jump start my heart and brain." He explained as I stared at him, I wasn't shocked as much as I was regretful. If I hadn't been in that morgue, he'd be cold in the ground and I'd be...Well, I'd be somewhere.

"Though, he said that you would have had to felt some very strong emotional connection for that to happen, that you were much too young to actually do it on your own. He told me that you probably didn't know you could do it, or do a lot of what you can actually." He continued after taking a long drink, like this next part was going to be hard.

"You were a John Doe." I interrupted, looking at my hands. "What?" He asked in response. "You were a John Doe, I remember crying because no one would know you'd died. I thought you had a wife or kids, a life that was expecting you to come back to it. I didn't know..." I trailed off, looking at him then back at my hands.

He nodded then continued "I see...Well, when you did that, your gift locked with mine and some how brought me back, which I am grateful for. I don't know if I mentioned that, but I am. Anyway, you did something else when you brought me back. But, I'm afraid you won't believe me."

"Try me."

"You connected us, do you remember hearing my voice in your head? I remember you wondering if I was a zombie, which you apparently do remember as far as your little pet name goes. After a few days the connection broke down, but not completely, we're still connected at a subconscious level." He replied. I looked at him uncomprehending, what was that suppose to mean? I shook my head to tell him I wasn't following, making him sigh a little.

"Your hair, it's lovely. Did I ever tell you that my favorite colour is purple?" He replied in an intense tone, suddenly bringing to my attention his purple dress shirt. In fact, he's always had purple on when I've ran into him. His favorite color is purple and my hair...

Oh fuck no.

"Bull shit." I scoffed, crossing my arms. "No way did I dye my hair purple because of you." I added, irritated. That was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. "Oh? Why did you do it then?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips. "Because...Well, I like purple." I replied, shrugging. He wasn't going to make this something it wasn't.

"Since when?"

"Since I was fif...teen..." I trailed off, holy shit. He was right, I hated to color purple until after I met him. It was a few weeks later that I first dyed it and I had kept it ever sense.

"Fuck." I groaned, rubbing my face. I was subconsciously linked to him, little parts of our personalities being placed in the other. All because we both had gifts dealing with telepathy. Jessica thought his gifts were a virus but it wasn't, it was telepathy. God, I fucked up big.

"What? It's not that bad. At least you look nice, that color sets well with your skin. I on the other hand? Mexican food. I hated it before I met you, now I have to eat some sort of Mexican twice a week and I often find myself listening to bands like The Pretty Reckless or In This Moment more than I'd like. They're completely rubbish yet I can't stop listening." He laughed, pointing to the stack of CDs, all of these were my favorite bands; and I loved Mexican food.

I stared at him, speechless. He laughed and shrugged "Brilliant, isn't it?" "I think I might be going blonde when I get back." I replied, making his playful mood falter a bit.

"What else do you know? You said more, what more?" I asked, wanting to get off the topic of being anything like him. I was confused enough, this wasn't helping.

"I did some research on you afterwords, I was curious. I found your file, the one Hydra..." He trailed off, looking away now. I stopped breathing, staring blankly in fron of me. Hydra? My file? I never wanted to think about that place again and I sure as hell didn't want to see my file, or let him near it.

"My parents did horrible things to me in the name of science, their own son. That was before they ran off, of course." He said absent minded, managing to catch my attention. "You never saw them again?" I asked, fighting back thoughts of my own parents.

"I did."

"And?"

"My mother killed herself, my father was killed by someone else." He replied coolly. "You mean you killed them." I corrected, my temper raising a little. How could he sit there and claim he hadn't? No doubt he controlled them, no doubt he was behind it. They were his damned parents.

"Oh come off it, Evelynn. Drop the saint act, we both know you aren't. And yes, I killed them! They tortured their son, treated me like a scientist project then left me to fend for myself at the age of fucking ten. I would think you'd understand how that felt, how much hate you'd have towards the people who did it. Wouldn't kill those doctors back at Hydra if you were given the chance?" He snapped, pacing the room now.

"No, I wouldn't." I replied, swallowing down the words the wanted to spill out. "That's bull shit and you know it. Think about it, all those tests. All the needles, every cut and operation. Every time they left you in a room with those people, those emotionally violent people. I've read the file, I know what they did to you. You know how it feels. " He hissed, suddenly leaning into my face.

"YES. OKAY, YES I WOULD." I screamed, covering my face. I would, I'd kill them all if I could. I'd rip the apart, piece by piece. I'd do that and so much more if I could...I was no better than Kilgrave.

"Evelynn, I'm sorry. Stop crying." He whispered, pulling me into his arms. I couldn't help it. My time spent there wasn't something I dwelt on often, so when it was brought up, I always break down like this.

"The amazing thing about this is you don't even know how powerful you are." He sighed, resting his chin on my head. "What are you talking about?" I mumbled, pulling away from his embrace and wiping my eyes.

"Hydra didn't just pick you because you're a telepath, they picked you because you're so much more. For some reason, you have this ability to evolve your gift. Hydra was known for human testing, a set of twins in particular. One of those twins had the ability to manipulate the mind, like some sort of witch I suppose. They took whatever they used on her and injected into you. But, rather than it killing you, your body adapted the new chemical to your own gift." He explained in a sort of excited way, confusing me.

I remembered the twins, poor girl lost her brother when The Play Boy's robot went a muck. But what did he mean? Reading (and drowning) in other people's emotions wasn't a very useful gift.

"Evelynn, you can do more than just read emotions. You can manipulate them, shape them. You can make someone feel whatever you want." He added when he say I wasn't following along. I shook my head, backing away from him "No I can't. I can't do that."

He groaned, frustrated. "You can, I've seen you do it Evelynn. Your Uncle Jack, remember? Random suicide attempt? That was me. Oh come on, you had to of known. I told him to kill himself, but you stopped him. You told him he was happy and didn't want to die and so he was. He was happy because you told him to be, because you wanted him to be. You can out power my control because your's goes to a emotional, deep level. I can tell someone to kill them self, but they won't want to do it. They'll just do it because I said so. You tell someone they're suicidal and want to die...They become it, the same way you feel other's emotions."

I stared at him, speechless once again. I could manipulate emotions? I didn't believe it, I wouldn't. He saw it in my face, by the look of his own.
"So, let's say that I believe you for a millisecond, what do you want me to do? I won't make Jessica love you." I snapped, making no effort to keep the spite out of my voice. "You will shu-" He started to scream, stopping mid sentence and shaking his head. "I don't want Jessica." He continued, his tone forcibly soft.

"Whatever. I don't even care, because you're out of your mind. I can't control people's emotions." I replied, slumping down on the side of the couch.

"Such an amazing gift yet you refuse to acknowledge is exist." He sighed.

"It's not a gift." I whispered, closing my eyes. "Sure it is, you just can't see it."

"What's so amazing about being consumed by other people's emotions? Huh? Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to never know how you truly feel, only everyone else? Even with the mental blocks, I still feel it all. I still drown every day in other people's feelings. I've slept with men and women, not because I wanted to, but because they did and so my emotions told me I did too. I didn't want to, but I did. I've hurt people because someone else's emotions told me I wanted to. I'm fucking drowning every day, do you know what that's like? Do you? Not being able to feel for yourself? The insanity it brings along? One minute happy, a second past and now you're trying to slice your wrist. Oh look, two minutes gone by and now I'm on my knees for the land lord! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S LIKE?!" I screamed, falling to to my knees and converting back to sobbing.I heard a window shatter and one of the ladies in the kitchen scream, shit. I lost it, I was hysterical. I never opened up to anyone because this always happens, I'd loose it and someone gets hurt.

Faster than I had fallen apart, Kilgrave had me in his arms, trying his best to calm me down. I guess he didn't want me to rip his new house apart. I was shaking, taking ragged breathes trying to get a hold of my self control. It had slipped from me, I had to get it back.

"All of you, come here!" He suddenly barked, snapping his fingers. Once every single one of his employees were present, he continued "You all will go outside and walk until I call and tell you to come back. Now go."

Small, gentle circles on my back. "Hush, I understand." He'd whisper, telling me to calm down and breath.

"Evelynn, look at me. Stop and look at me." He insisted pulling my hands from my face and lifting my chin so he could see me. "Calm down and tell me what you feel right now."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Nothing, I felt nothing...nothing from anyone. Only...my own...emotions..

"Evelynn?" He repeated, his forehead creasing as he watched my face. I shook my head, staring at him with wide eyes "I feel confused."

"Why confused?"

"Because, I don't feel anything. I mean, I feel angry and sad. But that's my feelings. I feel..." I trailed off in a mindless ramble, trying to make sense of it all. I hadn't felt like this in five years, ever since that last night...I hadn't a moment of peace, but now I was. I wanted to cry again, cry for joy because it made me happy. This was making me happy.

Then it hit me.

He blocked me out.

"You're right, I did learn to block you. I told you that already." He half smiled, pushing some hair away from my face. "Why?" I asked softly, still in awe of feeling only what I felt, not what everyone else feels.

"Well...Only fair, isn't it? You gave me my life back, I wanted to repay you some how..I figured finding a way to give you some peace would suffice." He replied, leaning a little closer in.

"You learned to block me out so I could feel normal?" I asked in a confused, broken kind of way. I was starting to get a little lost in my own feelings, in the feeling of nothing. He nodded a little , running the back of his hand gently against my cheek "I did, does that upset you?" He asked quietly, I shook my head no.

It should but I didn't care, it didn't. I was grateful, so grateful. I felt like I could breath for the first time in years, like I was set free. I wasn't upset at all.

"Tell me, Pretty Eyes. What are you feeling right now?" He asked, his tone soft and seductive as he whispered in my ear, planting a small kiss on my neck.

What was I going to say? Turned on? I'd never admit that, but it was true. I could feel that knot in my stomach getting tighter as his hands found their way under my shirt, pressed against my back.

"I-I don't know..." I trailed off, stuttering. I had never actually experienced this before, not for myself. Any time I'd ever experienced lust or want, it was always second hand.

I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to do much more. I had never actually wanted to before, it was confusing. Was it wrong? Shouldn't I be disgusted? My mind couldn't find it's way back from hormonesville.

"Oh? What about now?" He replied in a challenging, hovering slightly above my mouth, taunting me with a kiss. I bit my lip, I wouldn't say it out loud, that would make it real. I wasn't too sure I didn't want it to be real.

"Evelynn...Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, his eyes burning into mine again. I stared back into them for what seemed like forever. Fuck it.

"Yes." I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pressed his lips against mine. He wasn't rough or rushed, he was gentle. Soft, like some one would touch someone they loved.

But wait.." He said suddenly, looking at me. "Didn't you want to leave?" He asked, a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, very funny.

Of course I didn't. If I left, I'd have to give it all up. I'd be drowning again, and right now I damn well enjoyed breathing for once. I didn't want to leave, I didn't want to leave him. Not until I had too.

"Can I stay?" I asked, looking down.

"Yes, you can stay."