Hal no longer wore pyjamas to bed and he requested that Lena forego them as well. He said they didn't need them anymore, because Hal could sleep naked with his Pet's firm, warm body pressed against him. Of course, his sleep was interrupted by other activities that became desirable, even necessary, due to Pet's firm, warm body, but Hal didn't mind.
He could sleep and he could fuck without fighting the bloodlust, and that's all Hal cared about. It was such sweet relief after centuries of struggle that he didn't care that he was addicted to Pet, and he didn't care that Lena frowned thoughtfully or sometimes seemed disappointed when he whispered Pet's name in her ear and commanded his Pet to appear. She obliged him every time, and Hal rewarded his Pet amply to make sure that Lena would continue to oblige him.
Mornings were a bit rough; they had to find their way out of the tangle of stained and ruined sheets when they were finally rested enough to want to move. Still, Hal had worked his way out of much bigger messes, and what's a little lube and semen compared to coagulating blood and body parts? The sheets they could salvage came clean, and nobody died. That was the best part. Hal was sated and nobody died, there was no blood and no regret, and there were no more nightmares added to the horrendous pile that already haunted his memory.
He didn't tell his Pet these things. He didn't tell Lena either; in fact, he barely allowed the truth to whisper in the back of his own mind. He was using her to ensure his own happiness, just as he'd done with every lover he'd ever had. He was using her more than he'd ever used a lover, because she could give him more. She could give him peace. She could give him rest.
Hal didn't need to tell her; Lena knew what was happening and she accepted it because she understood it and she understood him. She didn't like being smeared with lube and come, but she enjoyed the activity that caused the mess and she knew Hal needed it. She couldn't read his soul any longer, but she could follow him into his dreams and she saw the peace she was giving him. It was enough, for now.
She recognized the signs of addiction in his trembling hands and the hungry eyes that followed her movements. She had seen those signs after their first flight together, when Hal realized the effect her touch had on him. She'd seen him reach for her unnecessarily and brush against her skin without cause. She'd come to understand how much he needed that contact so she had fought the curse that tried to claim her in order to give him what he needed. She'd won that battle, and in the end they'd both benefitted.
Lena had defeated the curse's power over her, but she hadn't defeated the curse and she hadn't attempted to deal with Hal's addiction. It was an integral and permanent part of their life, and he still needed her proximity and her touch. The focus had shifted but his addiction hadn't lessened; she calmed his addiction to blood by offering herself. When her femaleness became a challenge, she offered him a male alternative. His addiction drove his actions and kept him tied to her as strongly as her bola ever could. She would continue to feed his addiction because she had to keep him safe.
Lena was excited to explore the world of male sexuality under Hal's tutelage; she very seldom came across a completely novel experience and wanted to take full advantage of this one. But Lena was a woman, and she wanted to have sex as a woman. She wanted to share her true form with her lover and it seemed that goal was getting further away instead of closer. How long would she wait for a lover who couldn't truly satisfy her? She should have stuck with 'a lifetime.'
How long would she wait for a lover who no longer attempted to provide her female form with satisfaction? She didn't know. Hal was resting in the arms of the lover she'd provided for him and she couldn't say that she blamed him. Five centuries is a long time to battle a demon that lives in every cell of your body. Hal was due for a rest.
That's what they were, after all, the vampire and werewolf curses. They were demon-spawn, true children of their creator, passed from generation to generation as genetic anomalies. That had been Caedis Cruciatus' genius. The curses were unbreakable because they didn't inhabit their victims, they became their victims, and the humans they infected couldn't survive without them. A tiny particle of the demon lived in every cell of every victim, guaranteeing immortality of a sort to the creature Lena had destroyed. The demon's last laugh, the final 'Fuck You' to humanity. The only way to remove Caedis Cruciatus from the world was to stop the spread of the vampire and werewolf curses, and Lena wasn't sure that would ever happen.
So she played the long game, studied Hal as he studied her, and watched for anything that she could use to defeat the curse without losing him in the process. How do you change the DNA of a dead man? She would find a way. How do you defeat a demon at the cellular level without destroying the cells themselves? She would find the answer. She had to.
# # #
A quickie doesn't always work with anal sex. In order for it to be comfortable for both parties, certain preparations have to be made. Hal's expert manipulations and attention provided Lena with a great deal of pleasure during those preparations and she was happy for them to linger on that phase of lovemaking. Hal's addiction to his Pet and his need to claim Pet as his own made Hal impatient with that phase at times, however. Pet sometimes had to insist that Hal slow down and take care of his business, and Hal did his best to comply with Pet because he didn't want Pet to turn him away.
In the meantime, Hal's obsession with her male body was getting on Lena's last nerve. Her boobs were lonely and her vagina was empty and sad. An occasional dip into the female pool shouldn't be too much to ask, should it? She knew she was in trouble when Cartman singing "Fingerbang*" became an earworm she couldn't shake.
She was unhappy and Hal was impatient, so things weren't going well. He didn't even kiss her before calling for his Pet, and he didn't take the time to pleasure his Pet before intercourse. Consequently, Lena was nowhere near ready for Hal's entry when she felt him start to push into her.
"Dry fuck me and I'll break your neck," Pet declared.
"It's just…you're so…" Hal hastily applied lube as he spoke. He tried again.
"Dammit Hal, is that the best I'm going to get? You'll make me bleed if you keep that up. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Hal drew a shaky breath. "You said you could adjust to fit…" He pushed further into his Pet.
"Fuck this shit!" Pet snapped, and Lena appeared and shoved Hal off the bed. He landed in a heap on the floor. She leaped after him, and when Hal started to get up she broke his neck.
Specifically, she fractured the C-1 and C-2 vertebra and damaged his spinal cord enough to cause paralysis. She ignored the shock and grief that overwhelmed his face before he lost consciousness and dropped back onto the floor. Lena stared at Hal's limp form for a moment before cleaning the lube from her butt and putting on pyjamas. She came back to Hal and arranged his limbs so he was lying flat on his back on the floor, dropped a blanket over him, and left him there to think about what he had done. She went to bed.
Lena's guilty conscience woke her a short time later. She went to Hal and stretched out next to him on the floor. He hadn't moved, but she hadn't expected him to. She knew exactly what she was doing when she broke his neck.
"Blink if you're awake," she said quietly.
He blinked.
She brushed her fingers through his hair. "Can you speak yet?"
He was able to open his mouth but no sound came out.
"Blink if you want me to fix this."
He didn't blink. She'd given him fair warning and he'd ignored her. He would wait for his own regenerative powers to fix the damage.
"Blink if you forgive me," she whispered.
He blinked and kept on blinking.
"Oh thank God," she sobbed as she draped herself over him. She rested her head on his silent chest and sobbed again; she had stilled his heart and lungs, and she knew he was conscious and unable to breathe because of her.
"Please let me fix this," she begged, but when she looked at his eyes, eager for the blink that would signal his permission, she saw only his resolute stare.
"Please!"
Nothing.
"Hal, please! Let me fix this!"
He closed his eyes and kept them closed. She bowed her head in acquiescence. She would respect his wishes.
Lena pulled another blanket from the bed and covered them both. She settled against him, kicked up her internal thermostat to keep them warm, and waited for Hal to return to her. Eventually she drifted off to sleep, and when she awoke his arm was around her and his heart was beating in time with her own. She rose up enough to look into his warm hazel eyes.
"Morning," he said quietly.
She could only grin as tears of relief slid down her face.
"We need to talk," Hal said. "I think we need a safe word."
She laughed and sobbed at once and kissed him over and over until she saw him wince.
"Careful, my lady, I'm not completely restored yet," he said lightly. "I need to keep my neck still for a little while longer."
"Of course, I'm sorry. Oh god, I'm so sorry!" Lena sat next to him, held his hand, and kissed it gently. Suddenly the air quality changed and Raphael appeared.
"Grandpa!" Lena got up to greet him, but the archangel ignored her.
"Good morning, Hal," he said as he brushed past his granddaughter and knelt on one knee next to the vampire. "Let me help you up."
Hal felt Raphael carefully rest a hand on the back of his neck, and something like a mild electric shock ran down his spine, through his extremities, and out the ends of his fingers and toes. He was restored. Raphael helped Hal to his feet, and also helped Hal keep the blanket around himself as he did so. Only after he'd watched Hal move normally to sit on the bed did Raphael turn to his granddaughter, who was standing miserably nearby.
"I should turn you over my knee and spank you," he declared.
"Is there a grownup version of that? Because I think you're right," she agreed.
"That version would apply if you behaved like an adult rather than a spoiled child who keeps breaking her favorite toy. What is wrong with you, Inanna? You've never treated a consort this badly."
"I've never had a vampire for a consort!"
"That doesn't excuse your behavior. Your temper had gotten you into more fights than I care to consider, but it has never led you to abuse a partner the way you abuse Hal. You are misusing your power because you know it won't kill him." Raphael took his granddaughter by the arm and turned to Hal. "She'll be back in a minute." They disappeared.
Hal wasn't sure what to do, so he wrapped the blanket more completely around himself and waited. He hoped things weren't going too badly for Lena, but her grandfather was in a 'right state' to use Tom's vernacular. Hal wondered if Lena was as powerful as she claimed, or if she was actually getting a spanking. He allowed himself a small smile and a few moments to picture the possibility in his mind.
When Lena returned a few minutes later she was frazzled and dirty. She sat next to Hal and said quietly, "We don't need a safe word. It won't happen again."
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Hal felt protective of her, ridiculous as it was.
"No." She shook her head. "But he said some hurtful things. There was a lot of yelling and cursing. There may have been a small landslide. And the brief rerouting of a river. Shit. I'm a mess." She was referring to her mental state, but Hal pointed out her physical condition.
"That explains the state of your clothes," he said.
"What?" She looked at herself. "Oh. Sorry." She got up, took off her pyjamas, and tossed them into the laundry basket.
"I was teasing," Hal said gently.
"Oh. Sorry. I'm a mess." Lena said as she wrapped herself in her blanket and sat back on the bed.
Hal tried to think of something to say that would make her smile. "I'm sure it is due to my bad influence, my lady," he said. A weak jest with a kernel of truth, he thought.
She glanced at him and attempted a smile. She recognized what he was doing.
"So, no spanking then?" he asked.
"He couldn't have pulled that off by himself," she said grimly. "There was no punishment, Hal, just the expectation that I control myself, and that I find a way to make sure I do."
"When you come across something that works, please let me know so that I can make use of it as well." Hal reminded Lena that she wasn't the only one with self-control issues.
"I found something that will work, but you don't want to try it," Lena said ominously. "I swore an oath, and I know my grandfather will require me to uphold it." She was quiet for a long moment. "I swore that if I injure you intentionally again I will return to the cave and allow myself to be chained there. For as long as he sees fit. Grandpa agreed to transport you to Ammon's should that occur, so you will still be safe."
"No!" Hal was horrified. "Did he force you to say that?"
"It was my idea. I must hold myself accountable, and apparently when it comes to you I need more than just my own willpower. I won't hurt you again, Hal. I dare not." She smiled sadly. "Being the most powerful thing on the planet sucks. No system of checks and balances. Nobody to tell me 'no' when I need to hear it."
"Except me, when I'm not the one upsetting you." Hal reminded her. "I understand what you mean. I have nobody to tell me 'no' except you, and I don't listen. Perhaps we should pay more attention to each other."
"That would require more talking than you're comfortable with," she pointed out.
"It would require more patience than you are comfortable with," he pointed out in turn. They contemplated their situation.
Hal sang the words softly. "Isn't this rich? Are we a pair?"
"Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air," she picked up the next line. "I think we are the clowns, Hal. Our attempts at a relationship are laughable."
She leaned toward him slightly, and he put an arm around her and pulled her to him. She rested her head on his shoulder; he kissed her head and nuzzled her hair as he thought.
"I believe we need a do-over," he said. "We have plenty of time to sort things out. Let's call a do-over."
"A do-over of what?"
"Pet." Hal nodded as he revealed the decision he'd made during his long, still night. He knew it was the right thing to do because Pet wasn't real, and Pet kept them apart. Hal had been living in a dream again, but this time the dream had been a gift from Lena.
"I call a do-over of Pet," he said. "Pet was a gift, one that I abused for the sake of my own comfort, but no more. I want the struggle. I want to fight the hunger. I want us to beat this thing. We can beat this thing."
"Are you sure you want to give up your Pet?" Her voice was neutral, but she was nearly floating with joy and clutched the sheets to make sure she didn't actually leave the bed.
"Yes, until I know we can have intercourse with you as a woman. No, I take that back. When I can look Tom and Alex in the eye and tell them what Pet means to me, he can return. As part of you, the incredible creature that you are. Not as my dirty little secret. You deserve better treatment than that. So, for now, Pet needs to go."
"I am so proud of you right now," she said simply.
He looked at her in surprise. 'Proud' wasn't a word he was used to hearing. "Because I decided to discontinue being a selfish jackass? You set your standard far too low, my lady," he said.
"I disagree. You are choosing to rejoin the battle, to challenge the curse and yourself."
"Choosing to rejoin a battle I shouldn't have fled from in the first place—a feeble kind of courage, a coward's moment of daring. Nothing to be proud of," he persisted.
"I hope someday you'll be able to see yourself as I see you," she said quietly.
"That would require a magic mirror. I don't suppose you keep one of those in your pocket?" Hal teased. He was more than ready to change the subject.
"Smartass. No, not that I know of. Never needed one. Maybe this will work instead," she said, and she kissed him.
Lena had yet to use the word 'love' when speaking to Hal of her feelings for him. She'd admitted Nastusia's love for human Hal, but had said nothing regarding Hal in his current state. She also avoided 'need' in anything beyond casual usage, because those words suggested a weakness on her part that she didn't dare admit. Lena knew that words carry weight, and truth, once admitted and acknowledged, has power in the world. She brought the words 'love' and 'need' into her kiss and hoped that Hal would understand without hearing them just how much she cared for him.
There was plenty of passion in Lena's kiss, but there was more depth of feeling than Hal had previously gotten from her. He didn't just feel wanted, he felt treasured, and his tattered self-respect began to mend.
When Lena finally ended their kiss, it was to take his hand and kiss it instead. She kissed his palm and traced tiny patterns with the tip of her tongue. She kissed along the length of each of Hal's supple fingers and sucked on each of them suggestively, ending with his thumb.
"Seducing my hand?" Hal barely managed to get the question out. Her touch was sending rivers of pleasure and want through his body.
"I am," she murmured. "Is it working?" She began kissing the inside of his wrist, where his pounding pulse betrayed her effect on him. She smiled as she moved her caresses up his inner arm to the crook of his elbow. She paused and placed a small love mark in the sensitive skin.
"What-Christ woman!-what are you doing to me?"
"Seducing your arm. I need it as well."
"For what?"
"My lady parts are lonely and request a visit."
"From the poor substitute of what you truly want?"
"This part of you is better than the best part of every other lover I've known," she said. She knit their fingers together to hold him still as she nibbled and sucked gently on the tender skin above his elbow.
"Hyperbole."
"Fact." She followed the curve of muscle around his upper arm to his shoulder, where she began kissing her way along the firm flesh to the base of his neck.
"I don't believe you," he muttered.
"You should, my lord. I'm just the latest in your long string of conquests. You know how good you are."
"Not the latest. The last."
"I'm happy to hear that. Now," she whispered into his ear as she nibbled along its edge, "will you please say hello to my lady parts before they explode?"
Hal chuckled, the throaty sound of a confident lover. It was the sound she yearned for, the one that made her tingle with anticipation. He pushed her back on the bed; his well-loved hand found its way under her blanket and into her pants, where he made sure her lady parts were equally well-loved before he was done.
*Reference from the television series South Park. Check YouTube for details.
# # #
Fastidious: 1. caring about details and wanting everything correct. 2. keeping clothes, possessions, etc. clean and neat. 3. Hal Yorke
Lena had yet to see a dictionary with the third definition, but she assumed that was only because Hal had yet to introduce himself to their publishers. Hal was fastidious in the care of his clothes and in his own hygiene and appearance. He took extra time and observed due diligence in those areas. He was fastidious at the table and observed proper manners when eating. He was fastidious about the house and needed to have everything clean and in its place in order to relax. He seemed to become more fastidious as time passed.
The stack of towels on their bedside cabinet was Hal's idea; the extra set of clean sheets was his idea also. Even after exhaustive lovemaking he would sometimes insist that they change the sheets so they could sleep comfortably. He'd placed a large covered laundry hamper in their room specifically for sheets and towels. He quickly added a large, lidded waste bin when he realized how frequently their strenuous activities led to torn and ruined bedding.
Hal stood on Lena's last nerve sometimes, and she suspected that he did it on purpose.
Unruly: 1. difficult to control, manage, discipline, or govern. 2. disorderly 3. Lena Perennis
Hal had yet to see a dictionary that used Lena as an example, but he was certain that one existed somewhere in the world. She would live out of laundry baskets if he didn't insist on proper care of her clothing. She had little patience for clothes hangers and no patience for ironing. She blithely ignored proper table manners and had very nearly drawn Tom into a food fight on more than one occasion. She staunchly refused to consider a cleaning rota, so Hal had to resort to keeping one in his head in order to guarantee that all parts of household stayed in good order. She only got worse as time passed.
In their bedroom she tore through the linens with startling levels of indiscretion. When he suggested that they may need to consider sturdier fabric, or possibly leather, with which to cover their mattress she just laughed and ordered sheets in bulk from a hotel supply company. She offered to upcycle the ruined sheets that could be salvaged, but the memory of the mess she'd made while weaving rugs from old sheets kept Hal firmly set against the idea.
Lena tried Hal's patience at times. He believed that it was intentional.
Hal had been much more relaxed when he was human, but no amount of encouragement to return to his former habits worked on him. Lena realized that she was seeing the result of centuries of ingrained behavior and began to consider the possible causes. He had a clear need to control his environment, and she could appreciate that. Something more was at work here, and it was a puzzle she wanted to solve.
The solution presented itself in perfect clarity the day she pulled a clinging thread from the back of Hal's trouser leg. Lena spotted it easily enough, blue against the black of his clothes, and she casually plucked it off and tossed it into the waste bin by his bed. When she turned back to him, Hal was blushing and mortified.
"Thank you," he said quietly as he sat down to put on his socks and shoes. "I would not have noticed."
"No big deal," she said with a shrug. "You've done the same for me."
"I wouldn't need to if you were more careful," he reminded her, then looked down quickly to avoid her retort.
It was true. Lena seldom bothered with more than a quick glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was inside-out after getting dressed. She took her reflection for granted.
"Ah," Lena said. She finally got it.
Hal didn't ask for her assistance with his appearance and she didn't question his independence. She finally realized that his habits provided him with a measure of security and kept him from being reliant on someone else's ability to see what he could not. Even his care while eating could be put down to his lack of reflection—he had no way to check for crumbs around his mouth or food stuck to his teeth. Hal considered his lack of reflection a hindrance, probably a weakness, that he was determined to overcome. Suddenly his fastidiousness made sense in an adorable and heart-wrenching way that she hadn't expected.
"I can be your mirror," she offered.
"You are," he said, "but you are at times too complimentary. What I see in your eyes isn't as discerning as I need."
"If you were less flawless I could be more discerning." Hal just shook his head at her. "When was the last time you trusted someone to help you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I've had…assistants…of one sort or other, but I can't say that I've trusted anyone completely. I trusted Leo with most things, but he had questionable taste in clothing." Hal was referring to his dressing gown, the last remnant of the wardrobe that Leo had chosen for him. It was neatly folded in the bottom of a drawer and was likely to stay there.
"You know, I was actually much neater when I lived alone," Lena confessed. "Sometimes I'm messy just to irritate you. I like to see you puff up and fuss about things."
He looked at her askance. "Your sloppiness requires me to be more careful than I would ordinarily. I feel that I have to take extra precautions to keep our home from becoming a wreck."
"So you're saying that if I up my game you can relax a little?"
"Without being completely certain of what the phrase 'up my game' means, I'm going to hazard a 'yes' in response to your question."
"I still don't believe in ironing t-shirts."
"Wrinkles are wrinkles, no matter where they appear."
"Fine, but I draw the line at tights and underwear."
"Have you ever seen me iron my underwear?"
"I assume that you sneak out and do it while I'm sleeping," she smirked.
He did the 'not-really-amused' face at her. "Perhaps we could spend some time with the ironing after breakfast," he said. "I'm sure we can find several items of yours that are in dire need."
"You're going to teach me your technique, aren't you? I can see the anticipation on your face." She was only partially joking.
"If only I saw the same eagerness on yours," he replied. "Come, my lady, let's begin by not scattering toast crumbs across the breakfast table and proceed from there to more challenging tasks."
# # #
Lena wasn't just thinking about how to break the curse, she was thinking about how to deepen the connection that she and Hal were building. Hal was a blood addict who stayed off the blood through her influence. Hal had become a Lena addict by default, and until she broke the curse they would have to accept his addiction.
Setting aside his addiction, there was still an emotional connection that they both recognized and wanted to nurture. They were just going about it all wrong, apparently. He used her, she hurt him, and they avoided emotional intimacy by jumping into the sack every chance they got. Hal said that she had plumbed the depths of him, but there were still a lot of nooks and crannies of his psyche that he didn't want her to see. She had so much mess in her own history that even a vampire with an unlimited lifespan wouldn't have time to sort through it all.
And the curse, the unwelcome third member of their ménage a trios, refused to budge from its entrenchment. It was no longer weakening.
Hal knew they had reached a stalemate; he could feel it within himself. Their walks into town were enjoyable but they had maintained the same level of caution for several weeks. No crowds, no stores that required them to join a queue for checkout. He chafed at the limitations, more so than Lena, because he felt badly about keeping her from joining such simple activities.
When Alex and Tom went to see a new film they knew not to invite their housemates. Hal might manage to see the film later, after the crowd died down and the cinema was less than half-full. Or he and Lena might miss it altogether because it was too popular and the cinema remained too crowded with humans for him to attend. Lena offered to buy all of the tickets for a screening or commission a private viewing of a film, but he declined. That wasn't the point.
Hal had rejoined the battle against the vampire only to find himself under siege. He couldn't help but wonder how long Lena would continue to fight an enemy that no longer engaged in combat, but simply waited. Patience wasn't her strong suit.
# # #
The song used in this section is "Demons" by Imagine Dragons. The lyrics are quoted. Songwriters: Alexander Grant, Dan Reynolds, Wayne Sermon, Ben McKee, Josh Mosser
Lena pulled Hal out of his chair as the lyrics began. "I've found our song," she said. He frowned as he listened. Surely she was wrong.
When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale
He followed her to the middle of the room but he froze as the words sank into him, and he refused to dance.
I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
She danced around him and away from him; she reached back to touch him gently, to run her hands down his arm, across his shoulders.
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
She moved in front of him and locked eyes with him as she brushed his face with her fingertips. She drew him to her inexorably.
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Her supple body swayed against his tense one; his hands warily slid around her waist as she set her lips over his and traced his mouth softly with her tongue.
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
She trapped the Cupid's bow of his bottom lip in her mouth and nipped his inner flesh gently so she could savor the hint of his blood as she kissed him. She buried her hands in his hair and released the wildness in her heart.
At the curtain's call
It's the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made
Somehow he found the strength to push her away from him before she destroyed his will and turned him into a monster. He stood, quivering; eyes squeezed shut against her as she moved around him again.
Don't want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don't want to hide the truth
He was drowning in the words. Was she giving up on them? Was she calling him to join her in their destruction?
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
Suddenly she was there. "Trust me," she whispered. He felt her wings unfurl and he was off the floor. He put his arms around her neck as she twined their legs together. He opened his eyes and looked through her eyes and straight into her soul as they floated on the swell of music. She was beyond humanity once again, and this time she carried him with her.
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
He saw millennia of slaughter, rage, loss, and grief. He saw depths of despair that made his own existence an easy thing to bear. He saw the exotic blood of extinct enemies and the bitter remnants of the countless creatures she had destroyed. He saw her locked in the blackness of her imprisonment, dancing to the rattle of the chains that bound her. He closed his eyes to block out the images before they drove him mad, but he was drawn back to her and looked again.
They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go
Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save that light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how
He saw love that had been given her since before her birth. Compassion, empathy and hope shown to her, instilled in her. They were strengthened, made tangible, turned from emotion into action by her nature. They burned into him with a power that made him tremble. So much care, so much love in her. So much hope.
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
She set them down when the words ended. "Now you have plumbed the depths of me," she said quietly.
He staggered and caught himself, still uncertain that he had returned to the world. "How?" he gasped. "Why?"
"By not hiding. By not letting you hide," she said. "Why? Because it is the only way you will ever truly know me. There is too much of me for you to learn from online searches, watching me dance, or listening to my stories. Now you know the creature you want to be with."
She walked out of the studio and left him standing in a tangle of dark and light. She'd pushed him to the edge of madness and drawn him back into warmth and promise. She'd given him a look into her depth, her breadth, the expanse of her existence. He was undone by it, a soulless, senseless bag of rattling bones in comparison. One thing kept him from collapsing into a heap on the floor—hope. Hope. That he could be saved.