Unhinged

7

Maurya

He wasn't supposed to be here when the sun came up. I even have a jar with preservatives for his eyes. It's empty, taunting me, mocking me for my weakness. But I couldn't help it! He's so hot and forceful, I like it. I'll kill him tonight.

Still, as the sun goes down I find myself sitting next to him. His stubble is thicker, dark circles under his eyes, with a disillusioned look in his eyes.

He's angry at me.

"Good morning, Oliver," I whisper.

He glares at me, pulling at his restraints. "Let me go, Maurya. Now." He demands carefully. Oh...he's just so hot when he speaks. That tired, raspy voice, that demanding, superior aura. Something about it is so intoxicating.

Hm...maybe I'll wait until tomorrow night. I stroke his chest carefully looking up at him. His brown eyes stare down at me stringently.

I kiss his neck, and a silent stroke the tattoo on his arm. The word loyalty wrapped around it intricately. I lick my lips.

"I would...but I can't trust you, Oliver. Remember what happened when you trusted me?"

He sighs, and pulls his arms, tugging harder than he had before, making my bed cave under his power. Part of the bed gives way, and he's loose. I scramble back trying to put my hands on the knife to get control back, but he's faster. His hands are on it, but he doesn't advance on me. I smile and chuckle awkwardly.

Fuck.

I open my mouth but he shakes his head sternly. "No," he growls. "Shut up. Don't say a word. I am going to walk out. I am not going to say anything to anyone about this, Maurya."

He starts walking back slowly, keeping the knife toward me. I follow him, as he backs up keeping his eyes on me. Despite the situation I find myself commending him for learning his lesson.

"You can't do this again. You need help, Maurya."

"No one's gonna help me, Oliver," I murmur edging closer looking for something to bash him over the head with. "I need this. It's the only help that feels good. We felt so good together, remember?"

He pauses for a moment, putting his hand on the knob. He fiddles around trying to unlock it.

"You're a sick woman, and you need to be medicated. Now I am going to leave, and you are going to let me," he demanded.

I do love that demanding tone he uses. The door unlocks with a click.

"Wait! Wait, before you go," I lean forward, closing the gap between us, pressing my lips against his. He grunts, but doesn't push me away, doesn't stab me. His lips move against mine, frantically, his tongue darting out to sweep my mouth. And then he's gone, slipping outside the door. I lick my lips savoring the taste of his lips on mine. And then I grin. The good thing about being beautiful, is people want to believe you. They want to trust in your beauty, to excuse you, to pardon you, no matter what you've done.

His brows knit, his expression helpless, as if he were thinking: what am I meant to do?

He shakes me off, shaking his head, as if viserally shaking off disturbing thoughts. 

"You won't tell anyone will you," I ask with a whisper, offering my pinky. "Pinky promise?"

He stares down at my finger, and up at me, then to the knife. The choice is clear. Stab me, take my finger, or kiss me again.

"You can't do this to anyone else, Maurya." He murmurs, somewhat weakly, as if he couldn't quite convince himself of what he was saying. "I-It's not right."

I swallow roughly, silently urging my finger toward him. Silently, he understands that I make no promises. I'll let him escape, my first time, this man I have a little crush on. But he'll be the last one. And to be clear, I'm letting him leave. He's just so cute. I guess I'm not immune to the human desire to let attractive people get away with shit huh? He looks over my eyes. His sense of urgency seems to have fled him, as he internally debates whether I can be trusted not to kill again. And then he smirks. 

Smirks.

I falter and step back.

He opens the door in my frozen state and disappears into the street. My heart beats hard in my ears, deafening. A smile stretches across my face, my face hot to the touch.

If I ever see him again, I won't let him get away. 

I watch him stumble away from my house, discarding my knife into some nearby bushes. He glances back at my home, unseeing, stumbling further away, walking backwards. I wave softly, blowing him a kiss.

He frowns and turns around. I have the feeling I'll be in his dreams. It's Oklahoma after all, it's only so big. I want him. I lick my lips as he disappears from my sight. I don't think anyone will look as pretty as he does with his hands above his head, blood smeared down his nose. 

I think I'll have him again.