Super Bad (Completed 2013)

‡ Chapter 28 ‡

I watched her chest go up,

    and down,

up

   and down,

until her breath was

    heavy. 

I was loved.  My heart lingered of heat, it rising to my cheeks and spreading to flourish a real smile. 

“I love your smile.” 

I stared at Romane, his body over mine.  His hands remained against my hands.  I didn’t want them to leave.  They didn’t. 

“I love you,” I said. 

I didn’t mean it.  But I said it.  It was natural.  It seemed natural. 

The grip tightened on my hands and as my eyes adjusted to the dark.  His shirt was torn, the fabric shreds discarded across my stomach.  Something dripped from his shirt to my white gown, dirtying the pure colour with a liquid.  Another dribble rolled onto the gown. 

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

“Romane.  What is that?”

“It’s nothing.”  My hands ripping away to lift his shirt silenced his next words.  Claw marks were carved in his skin, blood travelling across his neck, along his torso to his abdomen.  My gaze shot to my hands that sparkled in the night.  I peered closer and flipped my hand.  The white bitten nails were replaced with tiny silver.  Blades.  Claws. 

Beastly.     

Then the monster ego leaked its knowledge.  Jessie would have never come up with this theory.  The monster had.  I saw images of my body’s interior.  The drug was building elements inside of me.  Growing things, substances, resulting into weapons of mass destruction.

Inside.

Of.

Me.

The silver sparked one final time before shrinking back to my normal bitten nails.  Terrified, I touched my human fingers, anxiously frightened such weapons could grow from my own flesh and bones.    

“You didn’t know what you were doing.  You were having a bad dream and they appeared.”  Then my eyes raked across the marks along his body.  “It wasn’t your fault.”

My heart clung to my throat, stopping the air from entering my lungs.  “Did I hurt her?”

He brushed my hair away.  “The child is fine,” he said.  I imagined him using his body to shield Pale Beauty, taking the scratches and hits as I unconsciously attacked. 

Cool air hit my stomach and I saw my gown soaked.  My ribs tightened, the bittersweet feeling consuming me.  I deserved the pain.  Why was he bathing in my consequences when I deserved to drown in my mistakes? I couldn’t bring myself to say sorry.  Tiny bee stings pricked my cheeks, to my nose and I sucked a sharp breath, fighting the breakdown. 

“Don’t cry,” he hushed, taking the hand of a monster. 

My hand. 

He lifted my glass frame off the bed, carrying me to the bathroom.  He reached for light switch but I breathed, “Don’t.  I don’t want to see the damage.” 

Removing his hand from the wall, he sat me on the cool marble counter and turned the tap on.  The water running, the door now closed, the sounds echoing in the dark, vacant bathroom, I was comforted by other noises and allowed the stings to continue.  I felt the burning in my nose.