Spoiler! :
"I... need you Eira. I don't just want you anymore - like I did when we first met, when I felt alone, and wanted to play my kind of," I paused, glancing up her. She seemed to be taking me seriously now. I needed that.
"Kiss chase. I suppose the term would be chase, kiss and kill."
Like crushing the burnt rose petals from the flower you looked after so tenderly, I mused, preparing for what was to come. I like to think I know Eira, even if she is adamant that I know nothing about her, that I don't care for her. I've watched her quiet beauty, admired her stubbornness and laughed with her, like I haven't since I was Persuaded. I looked at her in the half light, and took in her clothes, she was still refusing to wear the gowns I'd had made, with black silk the colour of the absence of flames. It didn't matter to me now.
"Want to kill me now, Ash?" Eira asked, raising an eyebrow.
No! I think immediately. Why can't she understand how much I feel for her?
But all the blood, the scattered limbs bathed in pools, and delicate organs, like sheets of wet paper. Tear her apart! You know you can't control the lust.
Oh, how much I long to do it, to kill again, become my monster. To taste that rosebud mouth, to have my teeth graze against those hauntingly beautiful eyes that seem to always be a different colour. To eat her human heart.
"No, Eira. It's what I'm trying to explain, there must be something wrong with me, for me to like you this much, to be able to control the urges I have. I need you to want me too, it's vulnerable and I hate myself for it." I said.
I wish I hadn't started this, I wish I didn't seem so human, so open to her, when she could tell me the words I don't want to hear at any minute. This isn't me, not the hungry Ash I was Persuaded into.
"Oh, so you like me do you? If you like me that much why don't you show it? If you were telling the truth you'd let me go, Ash, because it's what's best for me, I wouldn't be the battered toy you keep in the dark."
Eira stared at me, waiting for an answer. I didn't know what to say, because all the times I've played out the scenarios in my head, it's never gotten this far, to this moment with strands of white blonde hair framing Eira's angry face in the candle light as I struggle to find a reply.
"I think I might love you, Eira. There. Now you know it's true."
I waited. Eira didn't say anything.
"I've loved you every day from the second I chose you, and you've been the only thing I can think about since then. I think I'll love you forever, even if you choose to ignore everything I've said, I won't care, because nothing can change that, change us," I said, taking her hand, and holding it tighter when she didn't pull away. I couldn't help but marvel at the bone structure, the muscle tissue, the soft smattering of freckles that wouldn't make a difference in taste.
"Still, I don't believe that seven days a week is enough for me to love you, to hold you. I promise you that I'll make it eight days - even if you don't love me too - and name the eight day Eiraday, to prove my devotion."
A tear slid down Eira's cheek, as she let go of my hand.
"Ash, I-I don't love you. I don't think I'll ever be able to, after what you've done. Maybe before, if you hadn't forced me into this..." she said as she stood up.
I sat frozen - she didn't love me, what was I thinking? I've been so foolish. I blinked as I felt a tear. Stopping it in it's tracks, I brang it to my lips, it tasted bitter and salty, just as human emotion would.
"I'll give you a week. If you want to go home Eira, you can - there's no point in keeping you here any longer." I said, regretting it the moment I heard the words.
Whatever humanity I'd had left had broken in two, my heart spilling from the inside, emotion seeping through the cracks like rain through a ripped umbrella.
I waited till she left to cry. To cry because I hadn't wanted to when I was hurting and the Persuaders watched. To cry because I was stupid, I was meant to kill, to hurt, to laugh at pain, to eat her and not need her like a breakable mortal.
I looked at where Eira had been sitting, and imagined feeling that all too alive pulse, having her blood trickle slowly out of my mouth, running my tongue over her torn and damaged brain, and biting at her toes as she begs for mercy, telling me she cares.
Maybe I'll eat again. Maybe even eight days a week.
Gender:
Points: 1573
Reviews: 96