Page 59 of Possession

I freeze, confused and alarmed. What did I do wrong? How can I fix it?

Then, as quickly as his face went stern, he’s back to smiling. For a second, I wonder if I even imagined it. “You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore,” he says.“Now, do you want some lunch?”

I nod, and wait a moment before following him to the kitchen.

***

We eat, Aris and I explore the grounds jumping on the frozen lake when Aris goads me enough, and then we eat again. My full belly makes me sleepy after, and I excuse myself.

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I peel back the covers and climb into the overly large bed in the room Aris insisted be ours. For a few minutes, I twist and turn, tired but unable to sleep, tormented by the thought of disappearing in the middle of the night.

Aris? I say. Sometimes it helps to talk to him.

He doesn’t respond, but he’s there; he’s always there. He swirls in my chest, presence like a weighted blanket or big cat resting. Grounding.

You won’t go anywhere. I won’t allow it, he says eventually. He’s quiet then, for a long time, so long that I’ve almost fallen asleep and startle when he speaks. I don’t feel fear, but I felt something… close when you left. You were there one moment and gone the next. I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know what had happened. It was the first time that I lost something.

I stay quiet, listening.

I don’t like losing things.

Someone newer, someone less versed in Aris’ emotions, might take this admission the wrong way. They might think that Aris missed them, that he even cared about them, but that isn’t what this is.

The sting that he feels, the slight, doesn’t come from affection—rather, a sense of ownership and losing control over what he sees as his to wield.

I am a toy, and I was taken away when he was in the middle of using me. Aris gets to decide when he’s done playing. That’s why he’s bothered. It’s as he said—he’s never had to give anything away before; everything has always been just as he wants it.

In a rush of clarity, I finally understand that this is what he meant and this is why he won’t let me die: I will die when he controls the circumstances entirely.

Oh, Mary, he says as a tear leaks down the side of my face.

I know what he will say next: I’m no fun when I pout. I am no fun at all. I sniff and wipe at my face, trying to will my sadness into grim reluctance.

All the while, Aris surprises me. He doesn’t mock or sneer, even though it would be easy and would take little to send me over the edge. He is quiet, humming over my heart. A dragon resting atop its hoard. And soon, despite how hurt I should feel, I relax and succumb to my dreams.

Chapter thirteen

For a week, nothing happens, and it is bliss. Aris and I explore the estate, eat well, and sleep without nightmares, living in domestic harmony. It’s all so normal that I’ve stopped watching over my shoulder and even stopped obsessing about fading away.

As we take turns in control, I’ve started to see what was once my body as ours. There’s a sort of peace to it. Of course, we’re still looking through books to investigate what made me disappear, but it doesn’t feel as dire anymore.

I spend most of my allotted time around Henry, who is always so nice. He doesn’t complain about our odd behaviors and is willing to get us anything we might need. He does shy from questions about the mages and magic, but I still push.

Aris isn’t a fan. He won’t take control from me, but he does grumble a bit, comments banging against my skull like a bug on a light. It makes conversation with Henry difficult, if not impossible, and I often have to sit in silence with him.

I try to explain to Aris: I’d like to trust people.

He responds: You can only trust me.

Sometimes, talking with Aris feels like a car stuck in mud. The tires can spin as long as you want them to, but the car isn’t going anywhere. And even if you could get out, you’d have no idea where to go next.

Beyond this strain, things are good. I certainly feel safer than I did living with the Following. There, eyes lingered. Looks were nasty, words mean. Here, I am at ease and fully myself. For the first time in years, I’m not waking up hating my surroundings, and, more generally, my life.

Aris also seems content. He doesn’t push his desire for revenge—one which will win out soon enough. For now, he’s happy just to roam and to feel again.

We’re out in the forest now, Aris striding and leaping across logs and foliage. Despite the exertion, I don’t worry about the cut in my side, which has folded together nicely. I don’t feel any anxiety really, even that he’s in charge; I know that he’ll give me my turn and won’t hurt anyone during his own. How he is fair despite his chaotic nature, I’m uncertain, but he manages it well.

We could stay here, you know? I comment, reflective of the past week. Live like this.

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