"You did what?"
He looked up at me, his eyes gleaming. Which was strange owing to their eternal darkness.
"We just talked," he said petulantly, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork.
"Why didn't you tell me where you were going," I demanded, furious at his stupidity. He seemed agitated now.
"Why does it matter, I don't answer to you, you work for me remember."
"What if he had hurt you, why didn't you make sure you had backup," I asked, more and more aggravated by the smug little smile on his face.
"He wouldn't hurt me Seb, he needs me."
I pushed my plate away from me, having lost my appetite.
"What did you say to him?"
He grinned now.
"I told him I owed him a fall, that there would be the final problem, it was brilliant Seb. You should have seen the look of confusion, he thinks he's so clever but I am so much better than he will ever be."
"Whatever," I replied quietly, putting my plate by the sink and going outside to smoke. He followed me and stood in the doorway.
"I need to talk to you," he said in a small voice, his hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground. He scuffed his shoe along the step.
"What is it," I asked wearily. No doubt he would begin another rant about the wonders of Sherlock Holmes, his brilliance and his beauty.
"This is it, Seb," he murmured. "The final problem."
I stopped, the cigarette halfway to my mouth, match in hand.
"What are you talking about?"
His hand slowly came up to let his fingers caress my arm. He watched his own movements with a childlike curiosity.
"This is the end, once I ruin him. It's over."
"Right, okay," I replied warily, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag on it.
"I thought you wanted to end him," I asked, confused by his sullen manner.
"No, Seb. I mean the end of us, the end of me."
I froze, my stomach clenching.
"What?"
He brought his hand up to touch my cheek.
"Come inside," he whined, his small form growing cold much faster than mine.
"Tell me what you mean," I growled darkly. He hesitated.
"It's part of the plan Seb, I'm going to that rooftop but I'm not coming back." He gave a watery smile at me.
"You think you're some sort of martyr," I whispered, staring at him, seeing him for the first time.
"I have to, Seb."
Why did I feel like this? Like what he had said was any shock to me. For so long now I had respected this man, lusted after him and come to love him. In this moment I thought of the times when I had made him squeal with delight from my affections. I heard us both madly laughing, lying on the floor with no energy or desire to stop. I felt him wrapped in my arms, warm and safe. Happy. I had deluded myself into thinking that just maybe we were like any other normal couple.
A part of me had been stupid enough to think that he felt some kind of love for me. At least, any form of love that he was capable of feeling. This scrawny little alley cat with monstrous claws and a worse bite that had managed to slink its way into my life and into my very existence. I would have ceased to exist without Jim. Slowly wasting away in some dive.
"James," I said softly, his facial expression changing in an instant to something I had rarely seen in the time I had known him. It looked something like regret.
"What do you need me to do?"
He stared at me. It seemed like an age before he spoke. He ran through the plan he had been formulating, giving me the required details and skipping over the idea of emotion. There was a lengthy silence when he finished and I was wise enough not to break it.
My skinny little alley cat moved towards me, pushing my arms open and wrapping his arms around my waist, pressed close to my chest. I held him to me and felt him shivering. He didn't let go so I dragged us both back inside, untangling myself so I could lift him in my arms and carry him upstairs to the bedroom.
I was sure he anticipated my usual aggressive actions fueled by lust but instead I just laid him down before snuggling up behind him. My thoughts raced over what was yet to come in the future and I tried to suppress them. Jim continued to quiver and I could hear muffled sniffling. I wouldn't have embarrassed him by acknowledging his tears, I feared he would feel my own on his neck but he didn't speak. We fell asleep like that, the last thoughts in my mind whether I would be granted the mercy of being allowed to put a bullet in my own brain. I would need to erase the thought of the bullet he was going to put in his own.