Why? Why does it have to be you?
Putting a clean shirt on a man I knocked out should not be affecting me in the slightest, not after you tried to kill me and kept me prisoner. But here I am. Wondering why you have to look like that when you sleep. God, I love watching you sleep. I'll never get to tell you that. I won't let myself.
"I've thought about it. And... The smart option would be to kill you."
I say this the moment he wakes up. The watched has become the watcher. He smiles instantly, looking unbothered by the ropes tied around him. Unsurprising considering there's a substance in his bloodstream that wasn't there before.
I... Sort of... Drugged him. In my defence, I need his brilliant mind switched off right now.
"Oh, please. If you wanted to, you would have already. You've had time."
"Maybe I want you to suffer."
"Whatever it is that there is between us... You cannot deny our bond. Our connection." His eyes rake over my face and figure, fluttering shut as an expression of pure ecstasy crosses his face. I force myself to swallow, then - with much effort - I look away.
"Stop distracting me."
"Sorry. All I can think of right now is the feeling of your chest against mine... I can't believe you kissed me. Of all the surprises, Joe... I think that was my favourite. The choking very much included. I believed that would be the last time I opened my eyes... What a way to go. Right in your arms."
"Like I was saying. The smart option would be killing you... But I don't want to do that. So here's what I'm thinking. I'll leave. As planned. And you will stay the hell out of my life forever. Keep London. Heck, keep England. I'll never come back. And we can pretend none of this ever happened. Agreed?"
"Maybe you can. But me? I'll look for you, Joe. And I will find you. You know I will. You understand me well enough to know I won't be able to let this go. I'll chase you to the ends of the earth if I have to."
"To... Kill me?"
"Or kidnap you again. Depending on my mood. I... Don't want you to leave me. Ever. Even in death. Is that so wrong?" He has on a sardonic smile as he watches me. Wicked and curious. He wants to know how I'll respond. He's itching to find out what choices I make in this moment. "There's only one way to get rid of me, Joe. And you'd have to kill me to find out."
"I hate you. I was trying to leave today to avoid stupid options like that."
"It was always going to have to be one or the other, darling... At least, that's what I thought. But to tell you the truth? I don't think I could kill you anymore, Joseph."
"Even now? If you had your hands free, you wouldn't lunge at me?"
It's my turn to scoff. He's tied up to the bed. I have the upperhand, yet he acts like he still has all the control. What a ridiculous, psychotic man. Why did I have to like you from the moment I first met you?
"I would. But only because I want to taste you, again. I want to taste so much of you, Joseph Goldberg."
I roll my eyes. Completely avoiding the way my heart thumps. I want him to chase me. I want him to taste whatever he would like, too. I don't think I've ever wanted to submit to anyone's will so fast. I feel almost physically winded, giving the slightest pant that Rhys easily picks up with an - unnecessarily, I might add - alluring little glint in his eyes.
I have to be rational about this. I know what happens when I let my emotions rule over my logic. Half the people I've killed- no. Certainly more than just that amount would have been spared had I told my heart to simply shut the fuck up.
He means it. He really would follow me. How could I live a life like that? Forever wondering whether he really is watching me or not and searching blindly for any trace of him? I'd go mad thinking about whether he's stalking me, forgotten all about me or obsessing over the day he might finally walk up to me and press me against a wall. To kiss or to kill, that is the question. For both of us.
I gaze at him. He stares back, steady and sure, as always. How? How does he just... Know? When did I become so torn between two selves? I try to be calm and calculative, I try to weigh my options and reason out the risk and danger but he just won't stop gazing at me.
"Rhys... Please."
"You're going to kill me. Aren't you? It makes sense, you know. Honestly. It does. I mean that. I won't bother arguing my case-"
"Y... You want to die, too."
A statement, not a question. It's fact. My stomach sinks when he beams at me, his doped-up smile slicing me open.
"I guess we all have a little bit of suicidal ideation in us. Life is not without its irony. Or maybe I say that in attempt to believe my thoughts are normal. Still... It doesn't change the fact that the smartest option is to kill me and not leave anything to chance. The only question is... Will you?"
I walk out of the room. I have the kegs ready. I walk slowly around the house, thinking of him as I douse furniture and whole rooms in the highly flammable fluid. I did save some things. Sentiment isn't a good look on a murderer. Still.
The painting. A few of the books... One of his coats, the blue one he looks so fucking good in.
A souvenir, I suppose.
My eyes glaze as I walk through every room, unable to get him out of my head. And then I'm back into the bedroom. The one he gave to me. The one he's supposed to be dying in. Retribution for my capture. Wishful fucking thinking now because I'm stupid enough to be rethinking this.
I had a whole plan. I was going to burn away this period in my life and him along with it, flee England to somewhere new. I was going to start afresh. But I've been running for so long... Somehow, it seems wrong to do this. My heart is in the way, pulling me back. There are two sides to me, as always. I cannot choose who to obey.
"You know what, Joseph? I know it's love, now."
...What?
"D'you know why? Of all my flaws... I'm not a liar. Not sure why. I guess it's one of the few good things I picked up in life. I could do it but I prefer to be honest about things in a more... Sly way. What I said about Simon Soo was true. What I say on TV is as well. About the Eat-the-Rich killer. Nothing that I ever said to you was particularly false, either. And then I find out you've deceived me. All so you could kill me. And I should be upset. This is one of the few upstanding values I have after all.
"But... I can't do it. I lose so much of my mask around you. I become... Softer. Open. Willing to be vulnerable even when I knew deep down you only wanted this so I could be easier to break. And now, arrived at long last is the reward for my newfound fragility. Yet... I... I look at you and all I feel is adoration. I can't even hate you. You're mesmerising. And I get to watch you kill in my final moments, too? There's such a primal grace to your movements. I can't stop looking at you, waiting for you to end my life - I don't want to stop, either."
I manage to splutter "why are you like this?", gritting my teeth when he laughs softly in reply, tears shining in his eyes. Watching him break down like this feels too intimate, too personal...
Out of respect for a man I am about to kill, I should look away. But I stand in place, defeated and mute, knowing I will not.
"I don't know why. Can't answer that. But before I go... I wanted to thank you. I didn't think it was possible. I sort of gave up a long time ago. Had sex whenever little I felt like it-" I flinch at the thought of him with another man and he smiles even wider. "I'll miss you. And all your attempts to conceal yourself and your thoughts from me. I know you too well, Joseph. And I love you too much. I loved you too much to acknowledge the murderous glint in your eyes when you looked at me. My survival instinct would've pushed me to kill you. So I let myself fall in love, instead. After all my calculations, all this ruined for a man... I don't regret it, either. So this is what the greats wrote of... Never have I understood literature more. The warmth of it. The pain... Almost unbearable. And yet, I look at you and still, all I can do is smile and stare."
"Stop talking. You're about to die by my hand. Don't you get that?!"
"I know. I'm aware. This is my end. Thank you for allowing me to go in the presence of a true friend. I'm so grateful to you. I've only ever cared this much for one thing in this world. And that thing is what will be my doom. What art. I'd say this is your finest piece yet, Joseph, truly-"
"Please, Rhys... Stop." I walk over to him. Without another thought, I sink to my knees and feel the warmth of his chest one last time. My tears soak his shirt as I cling helplessly to it. "This is a good thing. I'm free. I'm meant to be happy. Why do I feel so miserable?"
"You... Love me too. Don't you?"
I still. There is no way to respond to a question like this. I can't think of an answer. I struggle to formulate a response, to keep this conversation going because I dread what an end to it will precede. Something must cross my eyes as I gaze into his because suddenly, he's grinning so wide it looks painful. His tears are joyful, his merry maddening laughter horridly contagious. And I want to stop staring; the guilt stabbing painfully at my gut... But I cannot look away.
I... Cannot put into words how wonderful it feels to see you happy.
"You do. Oh, you do! Joseph Goldberg... You're in love with me! What madness! We must be the two most insane fellows the earth has never cared enough to see! Hidden in plain sight... I know I'm about to die but... I've never felt so happy."
I've never felt so horrible. Not when I buried Candace. Not when I killed Beck. Or Love. Rejected Kate, said goodbye to Marienne. It is only rivalled by the moment I dropped my son at a doorstep. It makes me hate myself. I don't want these feelings to be real but they wash over me, overwhelming me, causing tears to form from what ought to be dry eyes. He gazes at me. The fondness in his eyes... It's such an awestruck expression that I find myself losing my breath, again.
"So I not only get to die knowing what it is to love. I get to die knowing what it's like to be loved, too. It's okay, Joseph. You know you have to do this. I won't rest until I find you if you don't. I'm much too obsessed with you to ever let go. You know that. I'll find you and kill you... Or lock you in a cage forever, just for the company. You don't want that. I don't, either. I'd hate to make you suffer. So... Do what you must. But know that you have made me feel alive. A feeling I only got when killing. Who knew it was possible any way else? Who knew life was so different for people who aren't like us? No wonder you chased love so desperately. It's... Wonderful."
I don't know what part of his intense ramblings finally broke me. I only remember ripping the rope off his skin and pulling him out of the house as he went on and on about his "love" for me. Who knew drugs could make a man so loose-tongued? If these truly are his thoughts, I worry for his sanity and for mine. I wonder, bitterly, which one of us will have the guts to kill the other first. He's right. We do have a bond. For a moment, free of attachment, I forgot what it was like to have a weakness.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This is such a mistake. When he comes to his senses, he might want to kill me, again. But I'm hardly afraid. I'm only relieved that killer Joe knows as well as I do that Rhys Montrose isn't someone we want dead by our hand. Once we're far enough, I elect to pull out the shotgun he'd pointed at me earlier.
Rhys gets out of the car and stumbles towards me. He is a thorn in my side, yet I can't help but smile when he presses a clumsy hand to my jaw and pucker his lips, tightly shutting his eyes. Ignoring him, I try to focus on the shot. I just need to aim this perfectly, then the heat and spark from the bullet will set the whole thing alight. I'm getting close when I notice he's still pouting right beside me. I utterly lose focus. This childish, incapable of calculation version of him is... Sickeningly adorable.
You drive me absolutely mad without even trying. It's infuriating. You can't hear me, no, but I wanted you to know that.
"What is it, Montrose?"
"A good luck kiss. Want it?"
I sigh and swiftly peck his lips. He huffs because I pull away too quickly, then smiles, holding onto the butt of the gun with me to... Help, I suppose. I steady my- we steady our aim. Rhys would like to be included.
We shoot.
We... Score.
It's up in flames. Beside the roaring explosion behind us, we share matching grins. And I do feel sort of lucky after all.