Black and Blue

8 - I Have Never Wanted To Be Normal More In My Life

He asked me to wait outside, which I took to mean stand right by the bathroom with the door a centimeter open just in case the shower water burned him. I mean, he was half-demon, or something. I still wasn't quite sure how this all worked, but that didn't stop me from assuming my head off. I was relieved he didn't make any weird noises that echoed around the room, clueing me into every little thing he was doing there. I heard the occasional coughing fit and then a disgusting splat on the floor, hoping endlessly that whatever came up would wash away with the water.

The shower stopped after about 20 minutes and I was snapped awake by the sound of the curtain practically being thrown open. I had a feeling it was about to come off the hangers. There was some scuffling around, followed by a soft, "Holy shit, there are towels here." I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

Once I was sure he'd covered himself properly, a horrible, stupid idea crossed my mind, and I couldn't get it out.

The door was still open, just a crack.

So I looked.

No, "looked" is an overstatement. I caught glimpses as he paced around the floor, not sure what to do with himself now. By several pauses held in the same place, I could tell he was looking at himself in the mirror. Multiple times. I winced a little before realizing that people actually did that. Just...looked at themselves, and didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. For me, I had to focus very hard on something I was in control of; my hair, my nails, how this shirt went with that outfit. It had become second nature. But Jack was probably looking at himself just to look. Maybe to see what it was like not to be covered in dirt and blood all the time. Maybe he loved himself a little too much. Maybe he'd forgotten his own face. The thought of it made my heart ache. I'm kind of a bitch, yeah, but I'll be damned if I don't end up feeling bad for every new person I meet. There's always something there. Even if it's all in my head.

I eventually remembered what I was supposed to be doing (partaking in purely scientific research, of course) and focused again. This time he was sitting on the edge of the tub, towel around his waist, grumbling to himself like always. I caught a few words, such as "bullshit" and "clean" and "wait," but I was mainly just looking at his figure. Not in any gross way, excuse you, I was curious. And I can safely say that all of the breaking into people's houses and mauling them to death certainly paid off; he had muscle. He was still kind of skinny, and I knew once he put that hoodie back on it would all disappear, but...

He stood up and I almost fell away from the door with a jolt of surprise. After a terrifying moment of silence, he called, "Are you still there?"

I collected myself and leaned back against the wall, trying to clear out my voice. I hadn't talked in a while, and I knew something was bound to go south if I just started again without any preparation. "U-um. Yeah. Waiting for you, dumbass. You know you could've just come out when you were ready..."

"I am ready. Can you pass me my clothes?"

He was referring to the damp pile on the floor next to me, his hoodie and pants which I'd washed but not dried. Apparently, they would "do that on their own" and we'd be wasting time if he had to wait in my house, practically naked, for them to be ready. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Yeah, about that...you sure you don't want me to run these through the dryer? Like, not even a couple minutes?"

"I'm sure. Can you pass them?"

"Fine."

He opened the door about halfway, hiding most of his body behind it and reaching out to take the mildew garden himself. I handed him the items one by one, but startled myself by looking up and realizing he still had all those stitches in his arm—really, everywhere. There was still dry blood practically glued to his skin that I had struggled to peel off before, remnants of the black smoke that ended up manifesting themselves as more tar, the sharp, jagged cuts in his skin that had been so hurriedly closed up...