Page 77 of Obsession

I’ve wanted to hurt him for some time now, but the look on his face just claws at my insides. I have to physically restrain myself from reaching for him, to try to comfort him.

Aris is quiet, lingering, as if indeed sensing that I’m holding myself back. He stands there, but I give nothing.

Finally, Aris silently shuts the door behind him.

When I wake, my fingers go to rub my amulet, the pointed sides grounding me in my new reality. I’ve won; my plan succeeded, and I betrayed Aris. I’m in a new place, a cabin where I have to babysit new-Aris—not an ideal situation, but I’ll get used to it. I shift at my thoughts, and spot Aris next to me in bed.

I scramble back, almost toppling to the floor until I catch myself on the headboard. “What the hell! What are you doing?”

“Are you angry?” he asks, something vulnerable on his face.

“No.” I say, and force myself to take a deep breath. Gentle, Mary. Be gentle with him. “No. I’m just… surprised. I wasn’t expecting you to be there.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” he says with a frown. “I read all of the books, and soon there was nothing left. So I came in here. I like watching you. What is it like to sleep?”

I take a moment to consider his words. He read everything in the cabin? And he’s been watching me—for how long? How long was he next to me? Did he touch me? My hand goes to my chest, resting above a heart I fruitlessly order to slow.

“To sleep?” I finally manage.

“Yes. What is it like?”

“Um… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

I take another breath. I don’t know the time, but it’s too early to be interacting with Aris. “It’s like turning your brain off,” I say. “Sometimes you don’t even know that you’ve done it until you’re waking up. And sometimes, there are dreams.”

“What are dreams like?”

“It’s different for everyone, and it’s different every time you go to sleep. Sometimes, people don’t dream at all, or they don’t remember what they see. Other times, it’s like… flashes. Things that happened or could have happened, or sometimes impossible things.”

“Did you dream last night?” asks Aris as I get out of bed. “What do you normally dream of?”

The barrage of questions makes me sigh, and I immediately regret the deep inhalation. My ribs hurt. I pad to the mirror and lift my shirt to find a band of bruises across my torso, directly beneath my breasts.

“What is that?” he asks, coming up from behind. In the mirror, his face is drawn into familiar lines of confusion.

It’s from you, but you don’t remember. You pressed me against the bed last night, when I thought you would kill me. You held me so tight that I couldn’t even breathe and the slightest press of your hand would’ve shattered bone.

“An incident with a tree from a few days ago,” I tell him, dropping my shirt to leave the room. It isn’t exactly untrue.

His voice is incredulous. “Days ago? Those bruises are fresh.”

Oh, so now he knows things.

“Bodies are weird,” I say.

For some reason, I don’t want to tell him the truth. It would prove that he hurt me like I claimed, making me look honest and trustworthy. Further, it might instill a sense of guilt and make him more loyal; he might want to prove himself to spite his past actions. I’m supposed to want those things, to manipulate him further, but…

He’s like a child. And I’ve already got him where I want him. There’s no need for overkill.

I walk to the kitchen to make breakfast while he follows along. Pulling out produce and eggs from the fridge, his lips stay pressed together so firmly that his nose scrunches. He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push either.

“You said that you read all the books,” I mention while ruffling through the cupboard for a pan. It’ll take me some time to get used to a new kitchen.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of his presence behind me, obvious from the emanating cold. And, the pleasure humming under my skin. Now that I know what it’s like to touch him and have him close, it’s almost unbearable not being able to reach for him.

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