Turpentine & Vetiver

17. Perversion -eyes. those damn eyes fucked me forever- Bukowski

   Due to his past trauma, Thorn had a difficult time trusting anyone- until he'd met Inky. Even though he still felt as if he had to hide the darker parts of his mind from her, he thought someday she might possibly understand- that he wasn't really a monster, just- what? Wrong, immoral, sick in the head? These mental issues were out of his control; along with the quiet rage he kept mostly internalized. Thorn felt almost guilty for not being able to control his anger all of the time- instead misdirecting it at others when he should be taking it out on himself, or trying to distract his mind- at the very least.
   However- at this very moment, Inky was providing quite the distraction. She'd stayed in the dark building with him after their night in the rain; a night Thorn had never thought possible. The sunlight shone through the narrow window, prismatic colors refracted like a kaleidoscope, and Thorn stopped in the middle of the room, his self-loathing thoughts dissolving as he registered the sight in front of him. Inky lay on the cold tile floor of the grey room, her hair still wet from the shower she'd taken to remove the debris from the thunderstorm. Thorn stared at her, naked and pale, for once not covered in remnants of black ink. Why are you out here on the floor- not that I'm complaining, he thought, then realized she probably didn't want to wear her rain-soaked clothes.
   Perhaps she enjoyed the stream of sunlight that was shining into the room- yet it seemed rather unlike her to be so unashamedly naked in his presence. He could tell from her erratic breathing pattern that she was still a bit nervous to be here with him, especially so vulnerable like this- surrounded by his dark artwork in a still-unfamiliar place. Thorn's dark eyes were filled with a strange emotion; torn between wanting to protect her and a devious, dark lust. He absently wondered if she would allow him to touch her again, it was the only thought on his mind now. I can't control myself when I'm around you, Thorn thought darkly; wanting to do much more than just stare at her, lying next to him on the floor. This is like a fucked-up addiction.
   Inky met his eyes, a dark look on her features that seemed to mirror his. So, maybe you don't regret this- maybe this wasn't a mistake after all. He wished the part of his mind that tried convincing him he deserved to be alone would just shut the fuck up for once. He sat down on the floor beside Inky, and ran a hand slowly across her exposed skin, observing the look in her eyes when he touched her. She did not make a move to pull away, and he gently ran his hand up the pale, bare skin of her upper thigh. Inky took a deep, shaky breath, pulling him closer. Thorn interpreted this as a sign to continue; sliding two fingers inside her, eyes growing darker at the physical response she gave him. I will not destroy you- but I will destroy any hesitations you might have about us being together, he thought, his constant internal dialogue focused only on Inky, and how he made her feel.
   I'm still constantly surprised- I didn't think that you could make me feel this way, what have you done to me? he wondered, his other hand gently holding her hipbone. There are so many things that I want to do with you, experience with you. Thorn could feel her body tremble slightly, and stared down at her face- eyes rolled back in her head, lips parted, strands of her black hair still wet from the shower. It excited him obscenely to have this effect on her, and yet he still felt an odd loss of control. I really don't mind that so much when I'm with you, his deceptive thoughts confessed. Before, when he was- stalking her; he only had his camera and binoculars to observe her from afar, and this was a definite improvement.
   Thorn vaguely recalled before they'd met- seeing her mostly undressed; covered in dark paint in her studio apartment, and how that image had almost pushed him over the edge in more ways than one. He'd had to deny these thoughts, distract himself from his dark obsession with her. Spilled blood and many cold showers... Yet this was now reality; something he never thought possible. The first time- in the field out in the thunderstorm- he felt as if something had been awakened that had been dead for years- or at least, inexorably dormant in the recesses of his dark, twisted mind. Thorn smiled darkly to himself, his blatant intentions kept slightly hidden for now. He would no longer deprive himself of these thoughts- if anything, he wanted Inky to know not to blame herself for the creation of the abomination, and after all- the Red Void had been suppressed by their prior interactions.
   Nobody would witness their act here in the privacy of his dwelling space, and technically they could do anything together- as long as she allowed it. Her body felt warm beneath his touch, no longer cold and hypothermic. Thorn noticed that she always responded to his touch like a moth to a flame; although he was more than capable of terrible destruction, he did not want to cause her any pain -unless she requested it- and even then, there would be a great deal of hesitation on his part. Her skin felt like damp silk under his hands, acquiescing to his touch. Thorn moved one hand over the side of her neck, feeling her rapid pulse rate. He wanted to repeat what had happened previously, but didn't know how to ask. What would he even say? I want you -again- I will never stop wanting you, thinking of you- it's like a glass sliver in my consciousness, and yet I'll gladly welcome the pain this time.
   Fortunately, there were no words exchanged between them; though he was still slightly shocked when Inky held his hand with both of her own, pressing it harder against her neck. Her face was slightly flushed, with beads of sweat standing out on her skin, water droplets on the tile from her wet hair. Obviously she was enjoying this- perhaps she was hiding her darkness as he had been- though Thorn doubted she was capable of murder. Oh- so you DO like this- even though I am holding your life in my hand. I don't want to hurt you- just force you to feel something different as you have done to me... Absently, Thorn wondered if meeting Inky was the missing element in his otherwise empty, miserable life. After all, everything had changed after they'd met- from the first night he'd spoken to her, to the day she had driven here to confront him- willingly walking into what could possibly have been a trap.
   Why weren't you afraid to see me? Did you recognize something about me that you denied to yourself, as I once did? What about now? You barely even know me; there's a possibility that I could hurt you, kill you- though I would NEVER- yet you don't flinch when I touch you, even something like this... Perhaps she still blamed herself for the existence of the Red Void, and had no sense of self-preservation; or maybe she had considered this option and knew he wouldn't actually do anything to harm her- hell, maybe she wanted him to, and was getting off on it. Who knew what thoughts were going through her mind. It could be the fact she'd hit her head earlier, gotten a concussion- maybe the only reason she hadn't left yet was- no, he couldn't think this way. By now it was clearly obvious this was her choice.
   Thorn made a mental note to stop second-guessing himself, though his naturally obsessive mind made it difficult to do so. From Inky's reaction, it was apparent she wanted to be here with him; otherwise she wouldn't have chosen to stay after their initial encounter. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this here on the cold tile floor, but you haven't stopped me yet, pushed me away. Hell, it's even possible you want this as much as I do. His thoughts were confirmed when she pulled him closer, staring into his eyes, and once again he glimpsed the unfamiliar dark look of desire he had never truly seen in anybody else. Inky's grey eyes seemed to be searching his mind, silently pleading with him to continue. Thorn wondered if the Red Void would return again while they were here together like this; and decided it was something to be ignored, focusing only on being with Inky.
   The way she was staring at him made explicit thoughts run through his mind like wildfire, disintegrating his rational thoughts and irrational compulsions. He should have hated her for causing this complete lack of control- yet instead, with her; he felt the need to prove he was capable of more than dark acts of destruction. Well, I'm still mostly in control, Thorn thought, witnessing Inky's response to the way he was touching her. The only other time he had even felt anything close to a real emotion was after he had killed someone, the warm blood spilling out onto his hands; but there was no sexual component to that dark transgression, he took no pleasure in that particular act.
   However, being here with her- knowing that he was responsible for her shaky breaths, how warm her skin was now- filled him with excitement. Thorn ran a hand through Inky's damp hair, black eyes staring into hers with no hidden motivations. It was clear both of them wanted this, and he was more than willing to oblige. I don't even give a damn anymore- not when you look at me that way- I would do anything for you, Inky, he thought, removing the remainder of his clothes along with quite possibly a shred of his sanity. Not that it really made much of a difference anyway- he wasn't sure how sane he actually was to begin with. Somehow being with Inky replaced the constant emptiness in his mind, erasing all thoughts of the void.
   It was ironic how they were surrounded by the dark paintings he'd made using the shed blood of his previous victims- even one of Inky's associates from the Gallery. If she found out this particular fact, she would run from him for sure. He knew his feelings for her were too far gone to allow this to happen, and he'd continue to hide this from her- conceal the fact he was a serial killer. After all, if Inky found out- it was highly unlikely she'd ever allow him to be close to her again, and he couldn't deal with that. You belong with me now, Thorn thought possessively, thoughts burning with a dark flame of desire. With her, it finally felt like he wasn't alone.
   He stared down at Inky, who looked back at him with unspoken consent in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, sensing no hesitation in her expression. She didn't answer, instead took his hand; fingers lacing together with his, a small, defiant smile on her face. The only witnesses around them were the blood-splattered paintings hanging silently on the walls, no signs of the void or its malicious entities lurking in any corners. "Last time we- scared them away- with what we did," Inky finally answered, a strange expression in her eyes. She stared back at him expectantly.
   Thorn was not very experienced at reading into the emotions of others- he didn't know how to respond. Inky made him feel caught off guard; at a loss for words. He stared at her, trying to memorize every detail of the look on her face. He was so used to her averting her eyes, looking away- even after last night. Inky adjusted herself so that he was on top of her, staring down intently into her grey eyes. Thorn knew he shouldn't stare so much- it probably made her somewhat uncomfortable- but he couldn't bring himself to look away. What do you think about when I'm fucking you, he wondered absently, with one hand holding both her thin wrists slightly above her head. Does it bother you that I'm in control- because I always feel a loss of mental control when I am around you...
   He noticed Inky was staring back at him, eyes looking up into his, searching for something undefinable in his expression. Most of the time I feel nothing- but not with you. Sometimes I swear you can read my mind- but you wouldn't like what you'd find there if that were the case. His other hand held onto the side of her pale thigh, and Thorn wondered if he would accidentally leave bruises on her the next day. He wondered if Inky was possibly anemic, as she seemed to bruise rather easily. This thought in itself was somewhat of a turn-on; that she would wear the bruise marks of their encounter on her skin, as she had marked him with her black ink fingerprints.
   The first time, out in the field- he had been more careful; not wanting to scare her away- in case she somehow saw the darkness that was barely contained under the surface. This time, though, he found it difficult to restrain his dark actions; yet she made no efforts to attempt removing herself from the situation. Thorn still felt as though he were demanding too much from her too soon, and tried to push the darkness away, keeping it hidden from her- this time. He let go of her wrists, gently running his hands across her bare skin. Don't let her see that you're a psychopath, he reminded himself. Not if you ever want to see her again...
   Inky pulled him closer, slowly tracing her fingers across his back, and he allowed her to touch him; feeling strange from the still-unfamiliar physical contact. Her skin was so soft and warm against his, and Thorn realized their interactions together were not about control- physically or mentally. He was not in control when they were together, when she was touching him like this, looking at him like they were the only ones in existence. He didn't understand how he'd voluntarily lost his mind so quickly... Inky held a strange power over him, making his mind operate in a different way altogether. Thorn couldn't complain about this, instead he closed his eyes and focused on the way her hands felt on his skin. He no longer cared if this was going against his better judgment- because right now, this was the only thing that felt real, made him feel alive. To hell with the consequences, to hell with the abomination, the Red Void. It would always be there, and he knew someday they would destroy it together.
   It had been raining again the next few days; a peculiar cold feeling pervading the atmosphere. The Red Void hadn't made its presence known after the night in the storm; but an ominous feeling still lingered, making the room seem tense with a strange dark energy. It's because you are here, Thorn thought, staring at Inky, who was asleep beside him on the bed. There was black ink hidden in the sheets, evidence that what had transpired only a few hours ago was actually reality. He noticed there was a black handprint on one of the grey walls; obscenely thinking that he was never going to paint over it, as it was more evidence what they'd done together was indeed real. The spilled jar of black ink lay on the floor beside the bed, its dark contents seeping into the tile. Thorn looked down at his hands, which were covered in the ink, slightly amused at where else he would discover the imprint of their activities around the room.
   Normally, this kind of mess would bother him, as he was usually a very meticulous, methodical person. Thorn looked over at Inky again, who wore the black stains around both wrists like bracelets; a slight ink smudge on the side of her neck and face from when he'd touched her- leaving strange dark markings on each other's skin. He remembered holding her thin wrists, the way she stared back at him without fear in her eyes- though he was mostly in control; and capable of so many terrible things- Thorn knew no matter what, he'd never harm her on purpose. I love you, Inky. If anybody ever does anything to upset you, hurt you- I will personally kill them myself, Thorn thought darkly, imagining what he would do to anyone who caused Inky any pain or discomfort. I'll slit their throat -slowly- I'll make sure they feel every fragment of pain as the life slowly drains out of their eyes...
   Usually he was not one to torture his victims; it was too messy, not in his nature- but for anyone who dared to harm her, he would most definitely make an exception- with no hesitation whatsoever. He realized he'd been staring at Inky like a creep, but couldn't help himself. The black sheets had gotten tangled around her legs, and Thorn saw several black ink handprints layered on her pale skin; knowing exactly how they'd gotten there made him avert his eyes awkwardly. Well, we've been rather -busy- these past few days, he thought, a small smile on his face.
   Inky appeared to be sleeping peacefully for once, gone were the restless nights of insomnia and nightmares she usually tended to have. I might be a murderer, but you're sleeping so calmly beside me. I do like watching you sleep- and not in a perverted way. I find it rather relaxing... Thorn carefully untangled the black sheets from around her legs, covering her back up. She tended to get cold rather easily, and the last time- he'd woken up with her ice-cold hands pressed against his back. He hadn't really minded, merely turned over to face her, holding her hands in his.
   Most of her clothes had been slightly ruined from the rain, including her black silk shirt, and Thorn had let her wear a few of his long-sleeved button-down shirts as dresses. Now they were scented with her cigarettes and jasmine, as well as the vetiver soap he liked to use, and thrown haphazardly over his desk chair. It would have bothered his OCD tendencies, yet everything Inky did was somehow oddly charming to him. She always insisted on making them tea in the mornings, Earl Grey or Jasmine Green; and French Lavender or German Chamomile at night.
   Thorn was getting used to having her around, and tried not to think about the fact she was leaving the next day. He knew they would definitely see each other soon- though he was generally an independent loner, self-isolating on purpose- being around her was different, almost addictive. He wanted to tell her how he felt- but this wasn't quite the proper time.