There's nothing that compares to the hard press of her body. Feeling her engulf every one of his senses until she's all that's left, wet t-shirt curled up in his fists and the pungent smell of salt water hanging off her skin.
He shifts beneath her and the dampness on his flesh creates a loud, painful friction with the leather of the passenger seat. They've made it back to the car, but the ocean's still here, right outside, a looming temptation of freedom. She'd straddled him when he'd gotten in and now, her fingers are running down his bare chest, collecting stray drops of water that remain.
The sound that comes from Norman is somewhere between pleasure and exhaustion.
Her mouth slows down over his. She's shown no sign of wanting to do anything aside from kiss him, just consuming his presence.
"Mother." A pop resonates through the car as he severs their heated connection.
Love glows in her pupils, spilling outward over him and stealing everything he is. Prized possession discontent in the shackles of her devotion.
He takes her hands in his, brushes a soft touch on her knuckles. There's a tight press on his throat, a kind of permanent pain. He imagines it as her fingers locking around his windpipe, killing him in slow motion. In his imagining, his eyes bulge from his head and his veins pop, his breath leaving in desperate, burning gasps. She's death itself and he's a puppet on her strings, strung up and helplessly in love.
Love is hell on Earth, that's what he's learned from her. It's danger and desire and uncertainty. It's pain and passion and hopelessness. It's sex, but it's also a gentleness that demolishes his more logical impulses. It's this moment right here, where he's silently observing all she's chosen to be. His beautiful nightmare; an omnipresent specter that runs away with his self-control safe in hand; the body that devours his in the black of night.
"Norman." She leaves butterfly kisses on his fingertips. It's a soothing gesture that she's been using on him for seventeen years. He doesn't enjoy feeling like he's below her, that their relationship isn't equal, but he knows that's exactly what it isn't.
Even so, he relaxes and leans into her. Hands separate and his arms circle her, her forehead falling to his. Her eyes burn bright blue, a lethal body of water that gathers around him, waves ganging up on his neck. Her mouth is his last source of oxygen and he takes it, breathing her in greedily.
His nails dig into her spine, imprinting half-moon shapes onto her skin. She lets out a pained sound, but that only eggs him on. He bites hard at her bottom lip, wanting to bloody her. A stain for his darker impulses. A reminder of the beast that pounds on a splintering door.
Another noise of hurt that Norman barely registers. She pulls back from him, startled at his sudden violence.
The smirk he gives is inhuman, twisted and demonic. He's entranced by the split in her lip, the red bloom of blood. His tongue licks over the wound and dives into her. Against her better judgment, she accepts him, tasting metal. He drives his hips up and swallows her moan. He wants her open and begging with her hands behind her back. But, she cups his face and softens him, sending the beast howling back to the far recesses of the dungeon from which he came.
Norman stops. He goes stone still in her grip and Norma's expression crumbles into confusion. "Are you okay? What's going on?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." He kisses her palm. "It's just…You love me, right? I mean, you're not doing this to keep me in line, are you? You actually want this?"
"Of course I love you. I love you more than anything on this Earth. And yes, I want this. So much."
He doesn't mention the fact that she purposefully skipped the most important question. Now he knows that all she really wants is to keep him here. All the syrupy speeches in the world couldn't hide that. She'd stop at nothing to preserve him. Shameless.
His gaze shifts to look out the windshield. The ocean shimmers and shakes and the moon hangs heavy above it, pulling and pushing the water to its will.
The same thing Norma does to him. Moon to his ocean, manipulating the waves that were his love and his lust and everything in between. "There's this voice in my head. And, sometimes, Mother, it doesn't have nice things to say." It's cryptic, but there's venom in it. Norma freezes.
"And you. You push and you pull and somehow I always end up doing whatever the hell you want. That voice says that you have it out for me; that you're bending me to your will just so you can hurt me somewhere down the line." His clear eyes go darker than the night sky that surrounds them. "That's true, isn't it, Mother? I'm a pawn to you."
She's never known this side of him. Somehow, though, she knows this isn't the monster that murdered Sam. This is still Norman, letting out his inner fears.
No words come to her. There isn't any kind of clichéd combination that can convince him. She needs something else. So, silence consumes them while his hands caress her sides and his fingers glide across the space beneath her breasts.
Fear clamps down on his tongue. He's already said too much. Their relationship is slipping away, crawling up the windows and sneaking out through the cracks. When his eyes fall shut, white light is all he can see. Dots burst in his vision as his eyelids squeeze harder.
Fingertips that belong to his true love scrape at his temples, her thumbs pressing to closed eyes. They move up to trace his eyebrows.
"Norman, look at me."
He returns to her slowly and the blue that greets her is deep and dangerous, wicked as death.
"Norman, honey, you know how I feel about you. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that."
No, he didn't. He could hope and he could wish, but he'd never know what went on in her head. He'd never know when she's using his feelings against him or when she actually means what she says. He trusts her, but that didn't mean he believed her.
"Yeah, I know. I know."
Norman disappears into the bathroom. Trudges up the stairs in his boxers that cling to his thighs from the ocean water that's collected. She stays behind, staring after him as he leaves her. After he's gone from her sight, she goes up to her own bedroom, shedding his t-shirt on the way. She crumbles it, inhaling salt and the slightest hint of Norman's cologne that remains.
She doesn't get a wink of sleep that night.
The shower water is scalding. It's a shock to his system, but he welcomes it, letting it rip the ocean from his skin.
It takes Norma, too. Her fingerprints and her lips and the shadow of her body. Pieces of her drip down and swirl into the drain. He closes his eyes and finds her there, naked, open, and begging. Begging to be freed from the rope that keeps her hands tied to the bedpost.
His heart gallops against his rib cage. Arousal wraps around him and digs its claws in, tearing into his flesh, leaving him aching and needy.
Guilt follows, but he builds a wall around it so it can't reach him.
She belonged to him. He could have her any way he wanted her.
They barely look at each other in the morning. It's strange and Norma can practically reach out and touch his uncertainty. How scared he is that she might be playing him.
He stands at the kitchen counter, pouring orange juice and taking a long sip. His head turns in her direction when she enters. There's a smile on her face, but it fades quick as it came as Norman drops his eyes.
She goes to him in spite of the pain that spawns from his action. Her fingers spread over his breast, his heartbeat intensifying. He's fearful.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He replies.
She kisses his cheek. "Have a good day at school. I love you."
"Yeah. Me, too."
School doesn't start for another half hour. Norman roams halls overcome with quiet chatter and subdued laughter. He needs to see her. He has to. It's imperative that Norma's point stays across no matter what. Neither of them can afford an outbreak of their private life.
Miss Watson's classroom door is cracked and Norman steps in, shutting it with a quiet click. Beth's writing on the chalkboard, but she startles when she raises her head and finds him standing there. He's slumped in the shoulders, visibly exhausted and her heart cries out for him, despite the fact that she knows what this conversation will entail.
"Norman."
"I know you know why I'm here." His lips form a grim line as he closes the distance between them. Normally, this would excite her, but now, looking up at his austere expression, she's frightened of what he'll say. Of how much he'll hate her. "You have to stop." He says. "I care about you – I do – and I know you care about me, but it's over, okay? This thing is over. And the information you have, you will keep it to yourself. I will not have you jeopardizing my mother's safety. I love her too much to let you hurt her. I'll protect her from anyone; don't think for a minute that you're an exception. You understand?"
Beth nods.
"Good." His face softens into an expression of gratefulness. She decides that this is her final chance.
"I understand that you love her. I understand that you'll protect her. You have every right. But, Norman, don't you get how unhealthy this is? How insane you sound when you say you're in love with her? You need help, Norman, and she's not going to give it to you."
He dwells on the word 'insane.' Behind his empty eyes, that image of Norma reappears. Naked and tied to the bedpost, watching him with fright. He sees himself going to her, a smirk on his face and lust in his belly. Devouring her, owning her, hurting her. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe.
He finds Miss Watson on the other end of the haze, but it's too late.
"Norman?" Everything sways as his eyes roll back into his head grotesquely. He crashes to the floor in a heap, unconscious and lost in darkness.
He comes to in a hospital room. Beth's sitting beside his bed, clear tear stains tracked down her cheeks. His mind registers that she's probably disobeying every conduct law there is by being here and for a second, his adoration for her fills him up.
"Hey." His voice comes weak and rasped.
Her head snaps in his direction and happiness overwhelms her posture. "Hey. Thank God you're all right."
"What happened?"
"You blacked out."
He scans the room, noting the obvious absence of the woman who owned him entirely. "Did you…did you call my mother?"
"The doctors did. She's on her way." She cups his cheek and smiles in that soft, loving manner. "I should go before she shows up. I'm glad you're okay." Her lips fall to his for a second, the connection chaste but still intense. He loses himself in it, returning the pressure with subdued zeal.
The door slams. "What do you think you're doing?!"
Beth jumps backward and finds herself face to face with Norma Bates. Blue eyes burn closer to red than anything else.
"Get the hell away from him." Cold as ice and harder than steel.
Norman throws a look from one to the other and chooses to stay silent. His mother isn't out for his blood. He's thankful.
"It's okay. I was just leaving."
"You're damn right you are." Unfortunately for Beth, the path out goes right past Norma. She isn't the least bit surprised when a tight grip folds around her forearm and sharp nails bite down.
"You put your hands on my son ever again, I'll cut them off. You understand?"
"Yeah, I got it."
"Good. Now, get the hell out."
Beth does what she's told but not without one last glance back at Norman. She's sorry she failed him.
Norma sears, though she doesn't say another word until Beth's gone from sight.
"Hi, honey." There's a threat laced in it that only Norman is trained to hear.
"Mother, I can explain…"
"It's okay. I know she forced herself on you."
"I uh…yeah. You're not mad?" He scoots over so she can sit beside him on the bed. Their fingers interlace.
"Not at you." She's treading eggshells. The last thing she wants to do is make him think she doesn't want him anymore. Not after that conversation last night.
She sighs. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm all right now."
"I spoke to the doctor. He wants to keep you here for the night, just to make sure that there isn't a flare up. I told him yes. Nothing's more important than your health." More eggshells. Crack crack crack under four inch heels. I want to keep you safe. I'd never do a thing to hurt you. Stay forever. Don't go.
"Okay. Are you going to stay?"
"Only if you want me to."
"Of course I do."