Page 89 of The Butterfly Killer

Roman lifted his hands. Marcus’s hands were free, but he didn’t do anything with them. It was Roman who turned him over onto his back. Still, he stared at the ceiling.

He hadn’t lied. This wasn’t another tact of manipulation. He did forgive Roman for the murder of his mother because he hadn’t done it. The other murders…those weren’t his to forgive.

He tried to feel angry at Roman or at least conjure some disgust at the man who’d hurt innocent people. He was more angry at himself for not wanting to strangle Roman or do the same that he’d done to those women. This feeling of nothingness plagued him. It was this none reaction that made him feel more disgusted with himself.

Roman straddle Marcus’s thighs. Marcus jolted, hands clenching into fists as the man settled his weight on top of him.

His body buzzed. A thrum of interest fluttered in his stomach. Like a thousand butterflies. Except these butterflies had teeth and they could eat him from the inside out if they wanted to.

If Roman commanded it.

Behind the stoic mask Roman wore, Marcus could faintly see the confusion. He wasn’t rendered defenseless—Roman had a much tougher emotional shield than that—but there was a tiny crack in his facade.

Marcus wanted to know if he could make it bigger. He wanted to know if he could stick his fingers inside and pry a little of that shield away. Just a peak. That’s all he needed. He knew Roman could pretend to be human but was he actually?

He lifted his hand. He went slowly, giving Roman the chance to pull away. He didn’t. He let Marcus place his hand on his cheek, let him cradle his face like he needed affection. He did. All this time, Marcus had thought the way to gain Roman’s trust was to coax him with physical intimacy. It had worked to some degree, but humans weren’t solely their reproductive organs. And Roman wasn’t just any normal human.

Care. Roman needed someone to care. It was a big oversight on Marcus’s part.

Marcus smiled. It was real, soft. He put all of himself into it, reaching deep within himself to pull up all the empathy he could manage for the man in front of him.

Another crack. Larger than the first. Roman was crumbling, pieces of himself falling like raindrops on Marcus’s face. His smile grew. He feasted on the bits of Roman’s humanity. He savored them, cataloguing the taste to memory.

Roman leaned over him. His hands fell to the mattress on either side of Marcus’s head. His fingers clawed at the fabric,searching for purchase, fighting the fall that Marcus wanted so badly.

Marcus leaned up to strike the final blow.

The kiss was a snake bite. Venomous, but it wouldn’t kill Roman. He’d be paralyzed and at Marcus’s mercy.

It was merely more than a graze, nothing like they’d shared before because this wasn’t about lust or a game of manipulation. It was tender and meant something because Marcusmeantit.

Roman crumbled. He rolled to the side, sagging into the mattress like dead weight. He curled against Marcus, face buried in his neck.

The tears dampened Marcus’s shirt. They soaked into his skin, a piece of Roman that became a part of him.

Roman’s sobs racked through his own body. He felt them deep in his chest. There was no satisfaction this time.

In a soothing gesture, he rubbed Roman’s back as his sobs became more violent. It wasn’t pretty. The cries he let out louder by the second.

The corners of Marcus’s mouth turned down. He wanted to help stop Roman’s sadness. There was nothing he could do though. Roman’s sadness was a build up of trauma and hopefully guilt for what he’d done.

Marcus started to think Roman wasn’t capable of that, but he stopped those thoughts as soon as they came.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had every intention of staying awake, but it seemed his soothing techniques worked so well he was affected too.

He was roused by the sound of the shower. Lying on his side, he faced the motel door. He flipped around and bit his tongue when he saw Roman standing just beside the bed.

His eyes and lips were swollen from crying. However, he looked better. Rejuvenated, just as Marcus had been when he sobbed on Roman’s shoulder.

He sat up in the bed. The sheets were strewn around him. He didn’t know if it was him or Roman who’d rolled around to make them so tangled. He was well rested.

They stared at each other for a long minute. Marcus was about to break it when Roman spoke first.

“The water should be warm.” His voice was gravely. By the way he’d been sobbing, Marcus wasn’t at all surprised.

Marcus’s eyes flickered to the open bathroom. A rolling cloud of steam made its way to the short hallway connected to the main room.

When he looked at Roman once more, he saw a hint of a plea.

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