Turpentine & Vetiver

21. Confrontation -the beginning is always today- Mary Shelley

   It was late spring, and Thorn walked with Inky through the field behind the dark building. The sky was a bright, unfiltered blue; the sun shining through the small wisps of clouds. He held Inky's hand, staring at her face; illuminated by the golden sunlight. "What are you thinking about?" Thorn asked, noticing the strange expression on her face- a small half-smile, quite uncharacteristic of her. Inky looked back at him, dark sunglasses hiding her grey eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know," she answered teasingly, almost playfully defiant. Thorn stopped to stare at her; his dark eyes serious and regarding her thoughtfully. "I think I already do," he replied, and Inky laughed, jokingly pushing him away.
   He reached out a hand to grab her wrist, but she quickly stepped out of the way, laughing as she ran out across the field. He followed her slowly, watching her as she spun in circles until she was so dizzy she fell to the grass. Thorn held out his hand to her, helping her up. Inky had bits of grass stuck to the black lace of her shirt, and she brushed them away in annoyance. "I want to show you something I found," he said quietly, leading her out of the field and down a narrow, shaded path in the forest nearby. They walked together slowly through the lush, green forest- Inky pausing to trail her fingers through the thick ferns that grew alongside the pathway. Thorn was amused by her constant curiosity, staring at her as she observed the nature surrounding them.
   They reached a grove of trees, the dappled sunshine filtering down onto the forest floor. Inky stared at him for a minute, having lost her sunglasses somewhere along the trail. He smiled slightly at her- usually he was the one who'd been caught staring. Inky followed him through the forest cathedral, and he led her to a strange stone archway that he'd found on one of his previous visits out here. It was covered in ancient engravings- symbols and runes centuries old. Maybe this is where I saw those protection sigils, he thought in detached recollection, visualizing the symbols recreated in black paint on Inky's pale skin. Through the archway, the horizon was visible- the deep blue sea contrasted with the rocky, white cliffside below them.
   "Nobody else ever goes out here," Thorn stated matter-of-factly. "They act like this place is cursed or something. I don't think it is though, some places are just meant to be left in solitude, I think it's more natural that way." He looked down at Inky, and she nodded in understanding, a contemplative expression on her face. What are you thinking about? he wondered, remembering the last conversation they'd had- the day after the detectives had come to town. He remembered Inky's confession to him- and how disgusted with himself he was- so unable to admit the truth to her. Perhaps, although illogical- he was afraid to trust her quite yet- Inky did not truly know him, and Thorn didn't want to handle her rejection if she found out what horrible crimes he'd committed. Would she turn him in to the police? Most likely- so she must never find out, because he couldn't possibly kill her.
   She'd wandered off while he was lost in thought, having gone around the corner of the stone archway. Thorn found Inky standing in front of a panel of mirrored glass, eyes staring blankly and without focus. He walked up behind her quietly; standing close enough behind her that his presence made her take notice and turn slightly, staring at their mirrored reflection together in the glass. Thorn was so close that they were almost touching, and he stared intently at Inky from their reflection. Most of the time- he hated looking at himself in the mirror, but somehow- seeing himself here with Inky, he felt almost normal for a change; something about the look in her eyes as she quietly stared back slowly transformed something in his conflicted mind. Oh- now I definitely know what you're thinking about...
   He didn't have to be a mind-reader to sense Inky was thinking something less than appropriate- about him. She'd seemed oddly distant since the afternoon at the cafe, and he had wondered if perhaps she was upset with him for his lack of reaction to what she'd admitted. In any case, they hadn't slept together since the night in her studio with the black paint. He stared at her almost obscenely, though she didn't move to turn away. Thorn slid his hands up under the black lace shirt she wore, carefully observing her reaction in the mirrored image. Inky shivered slightly, averting her eyes from their reflection to stare at the ground. He could sense her awkwardness- yet he was determined to make her confront it; as she had forced him to confront the repressed emotions within his own mind.
   "No, you can't look away," he insisted. "I want you to watch..." This time, he would not disguise his slightly perverse intentions- even though it made her uncomfortable- if she truly didn't want to be here right now, she could always turn and leave. Yet she remained standing there in front of him, her skin soft beneath his hands. Inky looked up at him in confusion and disbelief, taken aback. "What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly, as if unsure she really wanted to hear his reply. Quietly he added, "I want you to see yourself the way I see you- when I'm touching you." Thorn lightly ran his hand across her hipbone, staring into the eyes of her reflection. You think you're awkward, invisible- but not with me. I see who you are, Inky- you don't need to be afraid of yourself. I feel like less of a psychopathic bastard when I'm with you, and seeing us here like this is just further proof. I lied to myself when I thought touching you was a desecration- no; it's a transformation- somehow you are changing something dark in my mind to be more like you.
   Her grey eyes slowly met his completely, trying to maintain eye contact in the mirror. Thorn stared back at Inky, watching as the hesitant expression slowly faded from her features. Nobody had ever looked at him the way she did... At first, she'd seemed extremely shy and awkward- especially just now, in front of the mirror. A part of him was darkly excited at making her confront herself like this- there was no real reason for her to feel this way- because Thorn thought she was perfect; seemingly fragile but with a mental fortitude he hadn't observed in anyone else. "Look at me when I'm touching you," he instructed, a dark determination in his voice. Thorn could tell that this experience made Inky extremely self-conscious, but ultimately; he wanted to force her to truly understand- that even though he'd done terrible things she was not aware of; that she couldn't even fathom yet- somehow they were more alike than she realized. This time Inky did not break eye contact, and Thorn carefully touched the side of her face, still afraid she might suddenly change her mind and run away- leaving him more mentally broken than before. She silently stared back at him, her eyes that beautiful stormcloud grey- as if defying him to look away now.
   What exactly is it about you that erases my need to kill and destroy everything I touch? With you, it's the opposite. I know I'll have to kill again, but it will be merely a task, a necessary blood sacrifice to the abomination. Will this all end some day, will there be a time I don't need to do this after all? Thorn knew if he'd never met Inky, his list of atrocities would have been much longer by now- the horrific deeds too many to count. Just as she had done that first time in the field under the thunderstorm's ominous presence, he pulled Inky down on top of him, lying together in the sun-warmed grass. The light shone overhead, casting shadows across their skin, and Inky removed the layer of black lace, exposing her pale skin to the sunlight. She slowly ran her hand across his skin, and he caught her wrist; staring at the still-healing stitches in her hand, then pulled her closer.
   "You know there's no reason for you to feel self-conscious around me, Inky," he told her quietly, dark eyes searching hers once again. Inky did not avert her eyes, yet remained silent. She stared down at him, at her wrist he still held carefully in his hand. "I'm- just not used to- anyone feeling this way about me," she admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper. What do you mean? Do you really know how I feel- that I love you- can you tell by how I always stare at you, no matter my dark intentions? Has nobody else ever showed you how important you really are? This thought made him unreasonably angry- nobody else even deserved to be around her if all they did was contribute to her feelings of invisibility and self-consciousness. "Nobody should ever make you feel like less than who you are," Thorn replied seriously, unsure what else to say.
   Inky pulled her wrist away from his hand, curling her fingers around his. "Nothing feels real when I'm not with you," she answered, leaning down to kiss him. Thorn decided that even though he generally hated himself for the parts of his mind that were beyond his control- that he didn't quite hate himself as much when he was with Inky. Her eyes were always full of trust for him, and he swore to never make her change her mind about him- doing so would not only be a betrayal of her, but of himself as well. It was still a peculiar feeling to allow someone else to get so close to him, to see through his darkness. At first, I did think you weren't real- because my mind is only capable of destruction, yet somehow I imagined you... but you're real, and I thought by recording your image in photographs it would prove my point so I didn't think I was going insane. Now I see that I must show you someday; so you know you are not as invisible as you think you are, Inky.