a dance of doves & crows ( jonathan crane )

dedication and devotion .

notes: hey guys!

this is an insane chapter. im not even going to lie. heads up for graphic descriptions of violence, as we get a peak into the other side of ol' johnny boy...

song of the chapter: suki suki daisuki by jun togawa

"Mhm — This is so good."

Jules Lovecraft nearly moaned over his newest meal, not hesitant in showing delight with his attempt at southern food.

It wasn't something he was used to making, so he could not weigh in with his own opinions— Jules had just mentioned offhandedly the other week how much she missed it, and he had made the decision to try it himself. Proper food, she said with a big grin. He looked up how to make corn maque choux later that night, for no particular reason.

He just thought he ought to try.

Seeing the dish laid out in front of her, excitement clear in the way that she rocked from side to side, almost dancing to an invisible beat — her reaction made any self-doubt vanish. Unworthy thoughts gone with each hum from his patient. What did it matter?

So what if it was rather strange? He fed her everyday regardless. Might as well cook her what she wanted. What she was missing out on.

Jules had been doing so well recently, after all.

He was finally catching up to her, finally flipping to the same page.

"I'm glad you like it. Took your advice on the spices and everything."

It was more so demands, than advice — but it was about time he expanded his pallet, anyways. Cornbread was rather good, and he wouldn't know that if it weren't for the fifteen minute ramble from his patient on how to properly cook it.

"Jules, I would like to talk about Matthew Holmes some more today." 

He started with a curt adjustment to his glasses, not entirely sure what reaction he was going to get. It was something he was willing to risk. She was doing good. There had been several opportunities for her to snap at him again, over the course of their time together again— but she hadn't.

She hadn't.

"Oh." Jules nodded, short and quick after a moment of hesitation. Actually listening for once — but he attributed that to the food. The cornbread paused mid-way to her mouth. "Yeah, we can."

Matthew Holmes was not a particularly smart man. 

No aliases, no false addresses nor anything of the sort. The information he would be getting from Jules would not be necessary, by any means. It was just something they ought to work through. To stay on the same page.

Though Jonathan would personally be fine if he was never brought up again. 

An idiot. That's what he is. No need to soften the blow now.

"Great. We can stop at any time you need, Jules." He assured, no notes or paperwork in front of him to keep his hands busy. Instead, he flipped one of his pens through each digit, allowing energy to release with each twirl. Jules' eyes focused on the pen, still rather glassy from the drugs they pumped her full with.

Finding Holmes was easier was easier than breathing, if he were being honest. 

Using his real name on the visitor's sign in sheet — he was able to know frankly too much about the ex-boyfriend in under thirty-six hours. It was rather funny.