A Little Insane: Building A Monster

Chapter Seven - Building A Monster

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The front door was wide open, and Riley could see Hart walking slowly, exhausted after running for so long. There was blood dripping down his hands. There was also some on his clothes and shoes; Riley would have to clean that later. Hart's eyes were as bright as a star in the night sky, they were so full of life and energy, but when you zoomed out of those marbles, it was just another dark, empty, emotionless face.

“Close the door,” Hart told Riley as he entered the house and began to remove his jacket slowly, hoping he would avoid touching the blood.

“You already have blood on your hands, touching it a little bit more isn't going to kill you,” Riley said as he returned after closing the door, helping Hart remove the jacket, hanging it on the coat hanger after he retrieved it.

“I don't want to stain anything else. It's ridiculous the amount of clothes I go through a month.”

“You could always take my advice and stop killing people.”

Hart looked at him like he had just told the stupidest joke. At least Riley got some emotion out of him, which was pretty difficult to accomplish since Hart usually went into a coma every time he killed someone. Not a literal coma, just a state in which he built a box around him and turned the world off. It was strange to see, but it was the only time Riley ever felt safe.

Without a response, Hart began to unbutton his sleeves. Riley took over, pushing Hart's hand aside and carefully unbuttoning each sleeve, and then going to his chest. Riley and Hart were the same height, so when Riley looked up he was looking straight at Hart's eyes.

“I'm going to town today, do you need anything?” Hart asked, nearly a whisper.

Riley knew he couldn't really have what he wanted, and asking, even as a joke, would only provoke Hart. But what he really wanted was his freedom. Hart already knew that, though. And he wasn't going to get it, ever.

Riley just shook his head in response as he undid the last button on Hart's long sleeve shirt, slightly exposing his pale chest. Riley reached in through the opening and touched his skin with the tip of his fingers. He was particularly warm today, but that could have been because he had been running just a few minutes ago. Riley preferred when he was cold, it was more . . . him.

“I wish you weren't so sad all the time,” Hart said, bringing up his hand to touch Riley's face. “You're too beautiful for sadness.”

“And you're too beautiful for murder,” Riley retorted as he pushed Hart's shirt off.

Riley couldn't help it when his eyes scanned Hart's pale skin. His body was attractive, he couldn't lie about that. It was almost too perfect. His muscles were highly defined and all he wanted was to stare, and maybe touch. Every time he looked at Hart he felt like gravity was pulling him closer.

Correction, that was what he felt whenever he looked into his blue eyes. What he really felt when he looked at – or thought about– Hart's body was pure lust. The man was simply stunning, and he hated it. He didn't want to feel attraction towards a heinous killer. He didn't want a certain area of his body to feel warm arousal every time Hart appeared out of the blue. It was sick and wrong, yet every part of him enjoyed it. How could he hate and love something at the same time, especially when that something was Hart?

“I'm going to clean myself up, okay?” Hart told him.

Riley nodded quietly, avoiding eye contact, mostly because he was still staring. But then he stopped when Hart walked closer to him instead of going up the stairs like he should be. With his hand, Hart touched Riley's chin and forced him to look up into his eyes.