Bloodstains & Sepia

Chapter 1: Road Trip

  -The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.
-John Muir

* * *

The hazy September sunlight filtered through the window, casting a myriad of shadowy patterns on the grey tile floor. Inky squinted at the glass in skepticism, spraying the glass cleaner at the window; loud 90's gangster rap music playing in the background. It was early in the morning, however, Thorn had already left for work after Inky had made them coffee. She'd promised to clean up around the dark building before they were due to leave for their road trip- although she'd been so distracted lately, any household obligations had been mostly procrastinated or simply ignored.
"Damn it feels good to be a gangster," Inky sang along to the song, smearing the glass cleaner and ruining her current progress. "Fuck," she swore under her breath, tired of her chores already. They'd already packed the night before, and were planning on leaving once Thorn was back from work at the museum.
Several hours later, and once she'd decided the dark building was clean enough, she sat out on the stone steps, sipping her now-lukewarm cup of tea. Inky was nervous yet excited for their road trip- although she'd noticed that Thorn was acting stranger than usual these past few days- seeming avoidant and quiet. She hoped he wasn't reconsidering their vacation- maybe he'd changed his mind about visiting the West Coast. Inky went back inside the dark building, trying not to overthink the entire thing. He'd been working more than usual to pay for their travel expenses- since Inky no longer worked at the Gallery and didn't start her new job at the museum for another week or so.
Thorn had been gone a lot, and was tired when he returned. One night, he'd told her that he might have found out more information on the origins of the Red Void. Since then, he'd been purposely vague, and Inky had decided not to press the issue. Perhaps Thorn had his own reasons for remaining so secretive, and Inky didn't want to appear as if she didn't trust him. After their ordeal with the Red Void, the Abomination- everything they'd been through together- Inky knew he'd never allow her to be in danger. Thorn had been busy researching places to stay on their travels, and she actually hadn't seen him much lately.
What she had seen was the mysterious black box he'd hidden in the closet, the contents yet to be identified. What are you hiding in there? Inky wondered, not wishing to witness any more disturbing surprises. After they'd defeated the Abomination, the two of them had been reluctant to admit the possibility of the void's return. Inky slowly walked down the hall to the closet, opening the door with an obnoxious creak. The black box was hidden on one of the shelves; underneath a layer of their winter clothes. She tentatively opened the lid, discovering a yellow manila envelope with a stack of papers, Thorn's meticulous all-capitals handwriting on the margins in fading sepia ink.
She'd once asked him about his precise penmanship, and he explained that being forced to write right-handed; it was easier to write in simple capital letters. Inky had once seen his normal handwriting, the letters a messy scrawl and nearly illegible; a run-on and oddly small, cramped together script. Recently she'd gotten him to talk a bit about his dark past, although he hadn't offered much detail; he'd explained more than a few traumatic scenarios- the fact that his so-called family had been the primary source of his torment had made her feel profoundly sad. As she read the notes, she became increasingly more confused and paranoid. They described catastrophic historical events in gory, colorful detail, and Inky tried and failed to decipher the strange numerical code she'd found on the front of the envelope. What are you not telling me, Thorn?
   The museum was quiet, and Thorn stared at the computer screen, the words he'd recently typed blurring together into nonsensical gibberish. He'd wanted to finish this project today- he knew Inky was waiting for him to return to the strange dark building they called home- they'd planned on leaving for their road trip later in the evening. He hastily wrote a note to his boss, leaving it beside his half-empty mug of black coffee. I can't focus on anything right now, Thorn thought in frustration, wondering what Inky was doing right now. He saved the file on the computer, deciding that he'd deal with the project at a later date. Besides- the disturbing research he'd done on the void seemed vague at best; and he'd rather not be focused on a project when he was supposed to be spending time with Inky. He locked the door to his office, leaving the distractions behind the closed door where they probably belonged.
   In the parking lot, he stared down at the old notebook- a memory of the past, a remnant of the life he'd escaped from ten years ago... Inky still doesn't know about that part of my past- I don't know how she'd react if I told her how I killed my entire family when I was 18... Thorn knew that she'd forgiven him for his other assorted transgressions- though he wasn't sure how she'd respond if he told her the truth about the first time he'd willingly committed premeditated murder. Recently, he'd discovered a piece of his past that had resurfaced, and he wasn't sure he even wanted Inky to know- for her own sake. He sighed in frustration, tossing the weathered green notebook into the backseat of the rental car.
   Back at the dark building, Thorn helped Inky pack their suitcases- she seemed a bit on-edge, as if she'd been the recipient of bad news. He didn't want to ask her what was wrong- for all he knew, it could all be in his head. Right now, he wanted to spend time with her- now that they could enjoy freedom from the Abomination's oppression and violence. "I'll drive- you look tired," Inky said softly, a haunted look in her own dark grey eyes. "I have had a long day at work," Thorn agreed, and she gave him a slight smile. "Don't worry about it, then. You can sleep until it's your turn to drive."
   Inky was driving too fast again; her battered black Dodge Charger careening down the interstate westward. The radio was playing loud, and Thorn stared out the window; distracted by the scenery. "This is probably going to take several days," Inky commented, the crumpled map of Washington spread out on the dashboard, decorated with coffee stains and other various watermarks. "Maybe we should find somewhere to sleep soon," Thorn replied, noticing it would be dark soon. Inky nodded; she was already tired of driving- no matter how fast she drove, it always seemed like she never got anywhere as quickly as she intended.
   "You should probably slow down- I see a cop car up ahead," he warned. She let off the gas pedal, slowing to a cruise. The last thing either of them wanted to deal with was unwanted police presence- neither one of them had a criminal record- and they would prefer to keep it that way. Inky passed the cop car at a reasonable speed, thankful that Thorn had noticed before it was too late- it was a wonder she'd never actually gotten a speeding ticket; or even been pulled over for her sometimes-reckless driving. She saw a hotel sign on the side of the highway, deciding they should probably take advantage of any time they didn't have to sleep in the car.
   "What about this place?" she indicated the sign, flipping on her turn signal. "Sure- I don't see why not," Thorn answered, turning down the dial on the obnoxious radio. Inky paid for the hotel in cash, taking their room key from the bored-looking hotel receptionist. "Room 123," the surly middle-aged woman told them. The hotel was slightly old-fashioned, and Thorn made an off-handed remark that more than a few murders had most likely taken place here. She thought that was a bit unsettling- perhaps not knowing the history was for the best. They dragged their suitcases down the hallway- the dingy yellowing paint peeling off the walls, contrasting sharply with the stained maroon carpeting.
   "Sorry- this hotel is a little creepy," she commented apologetically; noticing a spiderweb in one of the doorways nearby. "I like creepy," Thorn stated nonchalantly. They soon arrived in front of Room 123, and they unlocked the door with the odd, squareish gold key; pulling their luggage behind them. Thorn locked the door, turning on one of the lamps beside the bed. Inky inspected the warped, moldy-looking Bible in the nightstand drawer, frowning slightly. The whole place seemed mildly disgusting- yet not enough to deter them from spending the night there. After they got settled in, Thorn made them some drinks from the sparse minibar- Jägermeister and Sarsaparilla. "Sorry- there wasn't anything else," he explained, and handed her the strange drink. She tentatively took a sip, and decided she actually enjoyed it. "Thank you, Thorn." They sat together on the edge of the bed, drinking in silence.
   The next day, they left the hotel early, as Inky was anxious to get back on the road. They still had a long drive to reach the West Coast; she didn't feel like delaying their trip any longer than necessary. The September air was crisp, not quite fall yet; but threatening colder temperatures- the wind echoing throughout the treetops. The scenery passed by in a blur; after a while it all started to look the same.
   "Maybe we should stop and get some coffee somewhere," Thorn suggested, and Inky agreed. They ordered two black coffees at a roadside stand; Inky adding an ungodly amount of sugar to hers. Thorn smiled, shaking his head. "You know all that sugar is just going to make you more tired eventually," he commented wryly, and Inky rolled her eyes. "Then I'll just have to get more coffee," she responded sarcastically. "Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" Inky, not wishing to argue, merely laughed, taking a sip of the hot, overly-sweetened beverage. They stopped at several more locations on their way; a few of the smaller towns run-down yet accommodating.
   A newspaper article caught Thorn's attention- sometimes he cursed himself for being so observant. DEAD BODY FOUND- MYSTERIOUS AND GORY CRIME SCENE; read the obnoxious headline. Typical overkill, he thought idly, picking up the newspaper to read more details. Unfortunately, upon further inspection, the article went into detail on how a body had been discovered- the markings on the remains eerily similar to the previous murders he'd committed while the Red Void was still active.
   Well- I haven't killed anyone lately- not since before my year in the void, Thorn reminded himself, feeling utterly confused. The detective -Morris- was on the recently-reopened case; although Thorn remembered with a degree of amusement the man's incompetence. Sooner or later, he knew Morris would reappear, he'd just hoped it wouldn't be while he and Inky were still living nearby. Somehow, Thorn doubted the local law enforcement were intelligent enough to figure out the truth- it was merely inconvenient timing in the midst of their road trip.
   It had been a long drive, and they were about halfway to their destination. Thorn had chosen the hotel this time; the room was vastly better than the one they'd inhabited previously. "Well- this is an improvement," Inky said, staring at the large expanse of their hotel room. "You said the last one was disgusting," Thorn answered, shrugging. "I didn't want us to end up somewhere like that again." Inky smiled, pouring a glass of champagne from the small silver minifridge. "Do you want some?" she offered him the bottle, and he shook his head. "Maybe later. I was going to go out and see if we needed any- supplies." She nodded- "don't take too long- I'll just wait for you in here."
   The water was warm, and Inky was a bit drunk- she'd already finished half of the bottle of champagne while Thorn was gone. She'd taken the liberty of having a bubble bath, bringing the champagne with her. Inky's eyes were closed, and she heard the door unlock after some time; heard Thorn's voice asking if she was okay. "I'm just in here," she replied, the glass bottle clinking against the side of the bathtub. Thorn walked into the room; staring down at Inky, who'd used some of the hotel's bath products and was halfway-submerged in a layer of thick bubbles. The room was scented somewhat obnoxiously with lavender, and Thorn smiled to himself.
   Inky looked up at him, face flushed and grey eyes illuminated by the overhead lighting. "I think I had a bit too much champagne," she said with a laugh, pouring the rest of the bottle into her empty glass. "Are you drunk?" Thorn asked in amusement, imagining several scenarios- none of them in the least bit appropriate. "Maybe a little," she answered honestly, a look of feigned innocence on her features. "Do you want anything from the other room- water or something?" She laughed and shook her head. "I'm surrounded by water, Thorn." He rolled his eyes at her reply, "obviously. I didn't mean- oh, never mind." He turned to go back into the main room of the hotel, and Inky grabbed his wrist, her hand covered in the soapy bubbles.
   "Where are you going, Thorn?" Her expression was slightly accusatory, eyes wide. "I'm going to put away our supplies- is there something you want?" He was trying not to let Inky distract him- they had to go to sleep early to continue West in the morning- however, she was nearly impossible to ignore. "Just you," she replied coyly, staring at him intently with more than a hint of sexual frustration in her eyes. "Inky- you're drunk," he stated flatly, staring down at her hand curled around his wrist.
   "So?" she met his eyes defiantly. "So- do you really think it's a good idea?" Inky looked bewildered, eyes fixed on him in curiosity. "Because you're drunk?" Thorn offered vaguely, realizing he didn't exactly have an excuse. "Your point is?" she pulled him closer, and Thorn decided to give up on all thoughts of going to bed early. "Okay- you win," he replied, noticing her smug look of satisfaction. He didn't particularly like it when Inky got drunk- but if she wanted to have a few drinks on their trip- he wasn't going to complain. The information he'd recently discovered could wait- Thorn knew that he wasn't looking forward to that particular reunion anyhow.
   Besides- they hadn't had much time for anything other than driving West- endless expanses of road, trees, and scenery that all became a monotonous blur after a while. He contemplated what they'd do once they arrived, and then the doorbell sounded, interrupting their previous plans. Inky glanced at the door in irritation; wondering if it was important- why now of all times somebody had to unfortunately interrupt them. Thorn left, and she patiently waited while he attended to whomever was knocking.
   A few minutes passed before he returned, appearing agitated and restless. "We have to go- I'm so sorry," he explained hastily; quickly gathering their things. "We got a refund on the room- turns out they weren't supposed to be open- apparently someone was -get this- recently killed here... They were supposed to remain vacant until the end of the investigation. Not a homicide or anything- although they do suspect foul play. Don't worry- it has nothing to do with us, and I can drive until we find another hotel to spend the night." He looked more than a little disappointed to tell her, and Inky sighed, an expression of annoyance in her grey eyes. "I'll wait for you to get ready- don't worry about packing our suitcases- I'll take care of all that."
   The nights of traveling seemed to blur together; until they couldn't recall having stayed in the car or a hotel. Finally, early on a Tuesday morning, Inky realized they were nearing their destination. The trees hung low with the heavy weight of draped mosses, and everything was such a lush shade of green it almost seemed like a mirage- a verdant hallucination. She stared distractedly out the car window as she drove around a bend in the road, Thorn glancing over at her nervously; one hand on the steering wheel. "Be careful," he warned, and Inky cursed herself for her carelessness. A few more miles down the road, and they finally arrived at their intended destination.
   Thorn waited for Inky in the lobby of the hotel, signing a name on some paperwork. She followed behind him, dragging their large wheeled suitcases. The hotel receptionist gave him the keys to their room, and once they were out of earshot, Inky laughed at the alias he'd used to avoid detection. "Tristan King? Where did you come up with that one?" she asked in amusement. "Well- on the East coast- King is a popular surname. And Tristan is my middle name." Inky laughed again, and Thorn looked away in embarrassment. "What?" he stared back at her in mock irritation. "I don't know- I didn't even know you had a middle name- I don't really, except I guess 'Nikola'- since I've gone by Inky for so long." Thorn stared down at her, then at the room keys in his hand- feeling uncharacteristically awkward.
   "It's kind of hot," she replied, staring up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Is that so?" Thorn answered, raising an eyebrow at her skeptically. "I mean, it's kind of funny, too," she said, giving him a serious look. Thorn shot her another annoyed glance, taking his heavy suitcase from her and rolling it down the paisley-carpeted hallway. They quickly arrived at their room, and he unlocked the door- the key sticking in the weathered lock momentarily before the door swung open; hinges creaking from the moisture in the cloudy grey atmosphere. Inky pushed their suitcases against the back wall and sat down in the brown leather chair facing the window.
   Thorn opened the fridge, taking a small bottle of gin out of the well-stocked minibar. "Want a drink?" he asked her, pouring the gin into two plastic cups, adding some tonic water. "Sorry- no lime," he muttered sarcastically, handing Inky the second drink before she could answer. She took the drink from him, staring out the window at the lush green scenery. This town was so different from the East coast- the treeline was somberly marked by deep green coniferous trees; dripping with mosses and ferns, reaching upwards toward the slate-grey skies.
   They sat in silence for a few moments, drinking the gin and tonics Thorn had made. It was strange to be around the unfamiliar scenery of the West coast, though Inky was glad to be around water- she always imagined she couldn't live anywhere without an ocean- the calming salt air like a welcome from an old friend. Thorn unpacked their suitcases, silently hoping that the new investigation wouldn't follow them out here- Detective Morris had gotten too close to finding out the truth, as incompetent as he was, he had employed help. The FBI had gotten involved again- or so he'd read- as Morris himself had insisted on reopening the 'Shipyard Murders' cold case files.
   In addition to this, there was another reason that Thorn had wanted to come out here- besides the fact Inky had wanted to go on a road trip. His younger brother, Colin- who he'd presumed dead- was still very much alive and well in the conspiracy theory scene, and had been quite busy researching the origins of the Red Void itself. Colin had never found out that it was his own brother who'd attempted killing him so many years ago, and Thorn planned on him never discovering the truth. Colin had changed his last name, but Thorn had managed to track him down- rather easily, at that. Keir and Kiernan weren't that far off, and his brother wasn't really the inconspicuous type, anyhow. He looked over at Inky, who was still sipping on her drink, staring out the window thoughtfully.
   The sun was setting over the horizon, and it would be dark soon. They were both tired, even with taking turns driving; yet somehow full of an odd, restless energy despite the mental exhaustion. Inky wished Thorn would say something, instead of remaining contemplatively silent. She smiled to herself, remembering his made-up name he'd used as an alias- even the initials were the same, she thought in amusement. His reasoning for using a false identity- well, that part was really fairly self-explanatory, and Inky decided that she'd rather not go into further detail. Instead, she had another idea altogether.
   "So tell me, Tristan King- what brings you to Washington?" she asked jokingly, trying to provoke a response out of him. Thorn looked at her sideways over his drink. "Don't call me that," he retorted quietly. "Why not? It IS the name that you chose for this particular road trip- and besides, it's honestly kind of funny when you get annoyed." Inky knew that she shouldn't purposely agitate him- but he seemed too calm, too quietly methodical, and she wanted to lighten the mood.
   "Okay -Nikola- I'm here to avoid murder charges," Thorn replied sarcastically, finishing his drink. "Hey!" she exclaimed, standing up from the chair to face him in false confrontation. "Well- you asked for it," he responded in amusement, black eyes shining in the dim lighting of their hotel room. Inky stared back at Thorn, absently wondering how she'd ever been creeped out by him to begin with. Yes, at first he'd unsettled her with the look in his dark eyes; but now all she wanted was for him to stare at her unreservedly- it no longer made her feel self-conscious. She decided to play along, hopefully it would lessen their shared anxiety.
   "Murder charges- so, are you going to kill me next, then?" she asked, knowing full well that even if this wasn't a game, Thorn would never do anything to actually hurt her on purpose. He regarded her darkly; although Inky knew he was just playing along- nothing actually serious- the expression on his face would have made anyone else run in fear. "Maybe- I haven't decided yet. I might just keep you here, for my own sick intentions," Thorn answered, eyes fixated on her face. Inky felt warmth creeping across her skin, understanding his implication. She'd been the one trying to provoke him- yet some of the things he said to her; he always knew how to get some sort of response from her.
   There was a quiet, awkward sexual tension in the room, and for a moment, they just stared at each other in silence. "What kind of- sick intentions?" Inky asked quietly, stepping closer to him. "Do you want to show me?" She felt strange being this direct- but after all, she'd been the first one to initiate this little game they were playing. "I could show you, Nikola, but you might run away from me. You might be scared of what I'd show you. I AM a serial killer, after all," Thorn answered, and Inky knew that this part at least was the truth, and she'd already come to accept this fact a while ago. "I'm not scared of you," she whispered, this time telling the truth as well. "Maybe that makes you as insane as I am, then..."
   Thorn stared into her eyes deliberately, the familiar look of dark intent making her shiver slightly. "What if I am? What are you going to do about it?" Inky replied seductively; challenging him to do whatever it was that he'd intended to do. They hadn't had much -alone time- recently, well- besides being the only two in the car, conserving time to travel across the coast for their road trip- along with Thorn's hidden motives for the trip; including avoiding the reopened murder investigation. He stared back at her, stepping closer so they were almost touching, then leaned down, speaking quietly.
   "What am I going to do about it... well, let's just say the other guests of the hotel are probably going to file a noise complaint after we're done." Inky averted her gaze slightly, blushing. "Is that a threat or a promise?" she asked teasingly, pulling him closer. "Which do you want it to be?" Thorn replied, his voice sounding somehow deliberately threatening and also suggestive at the same time. "I don't know- maybe both? I thought that you didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to us- what if someone thinks that you're actually trying to kill me?" She was more serious saying this- because she definitely did not want the hotel manager to come knocking on their door; especially during a- compromising situation.
   "I put the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door- if anyone DISTURBS us, I'll kill them," Thorn answered darkly. "I'll help hide the body," Inky joked- or at least, hoped she was joking. Since meeting Thorn, she'd become somewhat morally apathetic- although she didn't actively want anybody to die, she didn't really care either way if Thorn did end up killing someone again, with or without the Red Void present. She knew that he was a psychopath, even though he did experience strong emotions towards her- she was the only exception, and Inky knew that anyone else who was in the wrong place at the wrong time would definitely suffer the consequences. Thorn regarded her for a minute, trying to figure out if she was actually serious or not. Then, deciding it was a part of their game, he checked to make sure the door was locked, and turned out the light.
   "Go outside on the balcony and wait for me," he instructed, blocking the doorknob with a chair just in case someone did try to- disturb them. Inky smiled; he was always so meticulous, and the dark tone in his voice was honestly a turn-on. She walked to the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony, opened the door, and stared out into the now-dark sky. Absently, Inky wondered why Thorn had wanted her to go out here- surely he didn't intend on them... She looked down at the ground, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the prospect. Obviously they had done more inappropriate things in other semi-public places before; but this was in close proximity to the other rooms- there were literally rooms and windows on all sides of the hotel, and she was mildly embarrassed thinking about this- that others would possibly be aware of- their interactions.
   She was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of the sliding glass door creaking slowly open, and Thorn walked out onto the balcony, closing the glass panel behind him. As far as she was aware, the other windows were mostly closed, and she felt somewhat relieved. "Are we really going to do this right here- I mean, we have the whole room to ourselves," she said in halfhearted protest. "Why the fuck not?" Thorn replied, seemingly apathetic to the fact others could possibly see or hear them out here in the open.
   "It's just a bit- public," Inky answered quietly, feeling her face grow hot. She didn't want to discuss this; it was extremely awkward having this conversation with him. "Well- if you want to go back inside, I won't complain... I just thought this would be more fun," he explained, sounding vaguely disappointed. Inky shook her head. Fuck what someone else might think- they were supposed to be on vacation; even with the other circumstances they were trying to avoid. She pushed away all thoughts of possible embarrassment, then turned to face Thorn. "So- what are your 'sick intentions'? What are you going to do to me?" she asked, returning her thoughts to their game.
   "Well- I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're thinking," he replied, both playful and serious. "Oh really? I thought you were a serial killer. That's kind of- disappointing," she answered jokingly, looking up at him. "Why? Do you have a death wish?" Thorn stared back at her, black eyes searching hers endlessly. She reached out her hand to his, pulling him closer. "Maybe I do. I'm here with you, after all," she whispered back, giving him a small, devious smile. His eyes looked impossibly dark, and he held both of her wrists in his hands; and Inky no longer thought about the fact that they were in a semi-public place, all she wanted now was for him to touch her.
   "I certainly don't want to kill you- there's something else I do want though," Thorn said, the implication obvious in his tone. "Well, Mr. Serial Killer- what DO you want, then? Are you going to fuck me?" Inky lowered her eyes, feeling uncharacteristically bold. "Is that what you want?" he asked darkly, stepping closer to her so there was no space between them. "Yes- because I'm fucked up, too," she replied softly- only partially exaggerating. She knew anybody else wouldn't even want to be in the same room with him, but since they'd met- he'd never attempted to hurt her, and she was rather enjoying playing this game with him.
   "Turn around and put your hands on the railing," he instructed, and Inky complied, feeling impatient anticipation building. Thorn stood behind her, his hands warm against her skin in the chill of the night. She stared down at the dark pavement below, wondering idly what would happen if she accidentally leaned a bit too far over the railing. Morbid. Thorn slowly ran his hand up her bare leg; she was only wearing a short black dress and her grey wool coat, and the feeling of his warm skin against hers made her shiver. Inky gripped the metal railing tightly, leaning over just enough so she didn't fall down to the ground below. She could feel his body pressed against hers; his other hand on her waist preventing her from leaning over the railing too far.
   Thorn stared at her in this compromising position, his mind racing with dark, explicit thoughts. He knew that this made Inky feel slightly uncomfortable, but if she protested, they would just continue this inside the hotel room. Her bare skin was cold beneath his hand, exposed to the chill of the night air, and he could feel her rapid heartbeat as he carefully trailed his hand across her skin. "Are you cold?" Thorn asked, removing her grey jacket. Inky shook her head. "Not when I'm with you," she answered quietly, leaning back against him. He pushed aside the fabric of her black dress, staring at her pale skin, illuminated starkly white in the moonlit glow. "Besides- I'll keep you warm," he added; pressing his hand harder against her hipbone, wishing he could see the look on her face- the way her grey eyes stared into his with no fear- only desire.
   Inky tried to be somewhat quiet while Thorn was fucking her, not wanting to attract the unwanted attention of the other hotel guests- but the metal railing she was leaning over creaked loudly, and she had no idea whether or not their obscene activities were visible to onlookers. From the way Thorn's hands were pressed against her skin, she knew that there would be bruises the next day; blooming on her pale skin like perverse flowers, however- she found that she didn't seem to mind. They hadn't done anything like this since the day they'd trapped the Abomination, and she sensed it was long overdue for them to be together- from the way that Thorn was touching her, she knew he felt the same. She made a small inadvertent noise, hoping that it wasn't audible to anyone who might have taken interest in their intimate act.
   Afterwards, she leaned against the cold railing, breathlessly trying to regain her composure. She turned to look at Thorn, catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the sliding glass door- her black hair messy and damp, face flushed, grey eyes half-closed. "Let's go back inside," he told her, pulling her by the wrist. Inky followed him through the sliding door, sitting on the edge of the bed, her clothes in disarray.
   "We haven't gotten a noise complaint yet- I'm slightly disappointed," he commented, seeming amused. "I was trying to be quiet so we didn't get caught," Inky replied, playing with the two red ribbons on her left wrist. "Well- we can always try again- if you're not too tired," Thorn said suggestively. She smiled at him, staring up into his dark eyes. Inky motioned for him to join her on the hotel room bed, and he paused for a moment. "Would you kill me if I left the glass door open- it's a bit warm in here- especially after..." he commented, black hair stuck to his face, partially obscuring his eyes. "I don't know- I thought killing people was your department," she shot back playfully. Thorn didn't want to close the door- it was much too hot in their small room, and he was still mostly clothed, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
   He absently wondered if they'd made too much noise outside, then decided that he didn't really care. "I'm leaving the door open," he stated flatly, locking eyes with her intently. "We're going to get a noise complaint for sure," Inky said quietly. Thorn smirked, turning around and disappearing into the dark hallway. "What are you doing?" she asked him, slipping the straps of her dress down over her pale shoulders. "Making sure the door is locked," he answered darkly.
   Inky wondered if Thorn's OCD was worse in this unfamiliar location, as he'd seemed rather paranoid lately; usually he was able to contain and control the constant anxiety of getting caught doing something unsavory, obscene, or downright illegal. "You locked the door already- twice," she replied, "now get back here- aren't you going to finish what you started?" Thorn reappeared, the dim lighting behind him illuminating his dark silhouette. He remained cautiously silent; staring at Inky, who'd removed the black dress entirely and was sitting on the bed cross-legged, arms wrapped around her thin frame. She tilted her head, giving him a curious look.
   "Is something wrong?" she asked softly. Thorn shook his head. "No- I just- I've been really paranoid since we left, I've got a really weird feeling that somebody's watching us- perhaps we shouldn't have done... that- on the balcony," he answered, averting his eyes. "It's too late now- so I guess it doesn't really matter how loud we are now, after all," he added nonchalantly. Thorn absently thought how attractive Inky looked right now, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him, pale against the darkness of the room.
   The dim lighting made her dark grey eyes appear almost black like his, and he felt a rush of dark desire run through his veins. Inky grabbed his hand, pulling him down on the bed beside her. He ran a hand through her messy black hair; his fingers gently brushing against the side of her face. "Inky..."
   Whenever they were together like this, they both felt simultaneously more alive yet also detached from the banality of the real world, finding escape within each other; their shared darkness. Inky slowly ran her fingers across his back, carefully tracing the pattern of scars and the vertebrae of his spine. He took a deep breath, staring back into her eyes with no hidden motivations. This time they didn't care about how much noise they made, feeling careless, reckless; at one point part of the bedframe hitting the wall, echoing into the night.
   "It's only us now," he told her quietly; the rest of the world seeming to have faded away around them. It was the truth- when they were together, nothing else mattered- not the investigation, not the conspiracy theory group; nor the fact he'd killed people in the name of the Red Void. Thorn was grateful that Inky hadn't asked much about the murder case, and knew he'd possibly have to do damage control at some point in the near future. He glanced over at her, realizing that she'd fallen asleep next to him- which was rare given her unrelenting insomnia. Well- we have had an eventful day, I suppose... He'd noticed she always seemed to sleep better after they'd engaged in their inappropriate activities. Okay- I guess I'll let you get some sleep before tomorrow.