Page 86 of Three for a Girl

“I’m not normal, though, am I?”

“No … I don’t think you are, but you crave normality, the same way I did until I killed that magpie. Only after that did I accept my fate as the monster. It was almost a relief, to give in instead of fight against it, no more longing to be normal.”

“But you’re not a monster all the time. You’re not always cruel, and craving death at your hands.”

“No, but it murmurs away beneath the surface, like I imagine the detective does in you.”

“I wanted to go back to how it was before I met you. Back to being a detective, living purely for catching a killer, and the buzz it gave me. I didn’t have a life outside of work, not really. It was a lie, the lie I thought I had to live.”

“I changed you, and you changed me. We can’t go back.”

Chad peeled himself free of Romeo’s chest. “What do we do now?”

Romeo got up, took both Chad’s hands in his and tugged him to his feet.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Food.”

Chad continued to frown. “I’ve been snacking on bits.”

“That won’t do.” Romeo said, leading Chad into the kitchen. He pulled him over to the table, then sat him down in a chair. Chad twitched his fingers when Romeo moved away, but managed to stay put, never moving his gaze from Romeo in case he vanished in a wisp.

Romeo swung the fridge door open.

He paused before reaching a hesitant hand inside. “What the hell is this?”

Without seeing it himself, Chad guessed what Romeo was looking at.

“Ally dropped by with some shepherd’s pie.”

“It’s green. Was she trying to poison you?”

“Maybe.”

Chad thought Romeo’s face would break out in a smile, but he scowled, removing the tray from the fridge. He eyed it likes its presence offended him and walked it over to the bin.

“Ally wants the tray—

Romeo dropped it into the bin and slammed the lid on top. He shot a look at Chad that said don’t protest, and Chad didn’t, he sat rod straight while watching Romeo seethe. His nostrils flared, and his top lip curled, as if the idea Ally had provided him with food irritated him.

“Right,” he said. And with that one word, his anger left him. “I’ll get started.”

The shopping had been delivered to the house on Saturday, but Chad hadn’t wanted to root through any of the items. He’d shoved all the bags in the fridge and ate the leftovers around them.

“Washing powder doesn’t go in the fridge … nor does washing up liquid, or shampoo. What the hell did you do before me?”

Chad didn’t comment, he slumped in his chair, growing more and more tired.

He used to watch Romeo cook in the farmhouse, at first shackled to the rusty, old radiator before Romeo stopped trapping him physically, he hadn’t needed to restrain him, not when Chad wanted to sit, not when Chad was emotionally bound to him.

Romeo switched on the radio, fingers hovering over the retune button. He shot Chad a small smile when he realized his favorite station hadn’t been tampered with. The slow music flowed into the kitchen, and like a soft lullaby Chad found himself dropping, his head lolling towards the table.

“You can go upstairs to sleep—”

“No!” Chad flung his head back, blinking away his tiredness.

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