Page 13 of Scary Suitor

His hand pats the top of my head, very dotingly, and he chuckles. The sole thought that’s keeping me sane is his dulcet tone promising to leave after putting me to bed.

He hasn’t physically harmed me, but he can and will soon. Stalkers tend to escalate, and this man is spiraling in rapid succession.

It’s remarkable, the way his fingers wrapping around my wrist tames the fast heartbeats.

When he pulls me into the bedroom, I think about my life having the endless potential to embrace the future. As he taps my shoulder, my back hits the bed. The comforter folds neatly under my chin—the cycle continues with fright and apprehension, enticement of pain corrupting empty optimism that this is a dream.

Silence made from a thousand needles hangs in the dead air. Then his smile flattens, and selfish sparks of hurt darken his green eyes. We’re back to me in bed and him sitting on it, hovering over me like an incubus draining my energy.

“I’m not the first one you invited into your room,” he remarks, his voice saddened with disappointment. “That’s rude, pretty.”

His hand finds refuge in my hair, brushing the strands from my forehead and caressing the corner of my eye. The action would be reassuring and brimming with adoration between lovers, if we were that.

He’s still a stranger who tormented me until crippling anxiety caused me to faint once.

“I feel a bit jealous,” Cassio utters in awe.

He smiles, the corners creasing as a snare for my attention. His tone is vulnerable, tentative, and I can’t deny it makes my stomach flip.

The mistake of looking him in the eyes cost a broken heartbeat and an involuntary whimper of mercy. The green hues are full of ice, distant, and deadly when he bores the anger into mine.

Vocal anger is scary, but that comes with predicable actions if violence leaks through exaggerated flailing arms. Silent anger is a riddle, an evil box that’s best left untouched and forgotten.

I don’t know if the hand cradling my jaw, stroking my bottom lip tenderly, will crush my bones in one squeeze.

“We’ll be seeing each other a lot,” he says, and the bitter words rejoice with the elation in his green eyes. “It’s so nice to meet you again.”

I hear him over the pounding blood in my ears, and yet, as the words roll on his tongue, I forget what he said.

“I’ll keep the key.” Cassio clicks his tongue, lips scowling in condemnation. “You’re too clumsy, losing such an important thing in the brioche shop.”

Nothing has changed. He’s still following me, and I’m letting him get away with it. I’m still that scared little girl.

“Tick-tock,” he mocks laughingly, pinching my cheek. “When I catch you, I’ll spare you the chains.”

I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch in fear or cry in frustration. That’ll give him more power over me, and I need to fend off the appeal of admitting defeat.

Yes, it’s exhausting to be in this unwilling game and bask in his unwanted attention. It will be worse if he wins, and he wouldn’t care about a sore loser’s tantrum even though it’s my life balancing on the line.

What will he do to me if he wins?

“If you win,” Cassio teases, speaking more to himself and the dim room than to me, “…well, you won’t.”

I open my mouth to try to protest with the kick of confidence, but he shakes his head and taps my lips.

“But you can try, though,” he agrees with a short nod. “I’ll appreciate the effort you put into loving me as much as I do you.”

Delusional. Sinister. Sickening.

He has gotten worse as time has gone by. I couldn’t read him back then, too invested in avoiding him to stomp on his rising obsession or snip the bud of it when I had the chance.

My heart thrums, drumming loudly as the tempo fastens with my hiccupping breath. He trails a finger along my throat, rubbing the jumpy skin as I try to stop the hysteria from becoming a cry.

“Say my name, pretty,” he coos, nudging my bottom lip playfully. “That’s all it takes for me to leave.”

That sounds like a tricky offer—the kind monsters in the dark taunt. The abomination stays until the door of sanity opens, shedding harsh sunlight and driving the monster back into the murky shadows, where it festers even more intensely.

Science and fairy tales; it’s unified complexity that splits apart my heart and mind.

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