nightrunners

xxxi.

Cassiopeia looked at him stunned, frantically searching his expression for any indication that he was joking. Rafe chewed on the back of his thumb, patiently waiting for her response.

"I can't," She breathed out shakily, "You can't – Rafe, do you even hear yourself? This is JJ we are talking about, not just some stranger."

He leaned against her bedroom door, the flicker of her lamp casting his shadow amongst the wall.

"He's going to "try" and kill me, at least let's make this more of a fair fight, yeah?"'

Cassiopeia's eyes widened, a terrified expression surfaced on her face.

"Is that what you do now Rafe, is that who you are now?"

He looked at her, the sound of the rain filling the intensified silence between them. His voice remained flat but steady, "Everything is trying to kill everything else all the time and every single thing has to kill to live. Killing is nature – you either kill or be killed."

Cassiopeia sat up straight on her bed, his words not processing through her head.

"This is wrong, you're- you're so fucking sick!" She shouted and swung her legs over the bed, eyeing the door.

The boy sauntered over to her, his walk full of purpose, "Is it now Cassiopeia? How come you haven't turned me in?" He leaned over her, his mouth gently brushing her ear, "Or called the cops and have me locked away? Perhaps all of this thrills you, gets you excited, or maybe," His voice grew husky and low, "It turns you on, the thought of having power, the idea of...executing your enemies."

Her body instantly tensed and she remained frozen in place, his words seeping into every crevice of her brain. Her mouth remained closed, unable to give the boy an explanation because truthfully, she didn't have one. The thought just never occurred to her, to get away from him. Because unfortunately, she couldn't imagine not being by his side.

Her nose brushed up against his cheek as she struggled to swallow. He raised his hand and glided it up her throat, slowly wrapping around it. He tilted her chin upwards so that she was looking at him.

"Tell me I'm wrong." He muttered, locking eyes with her, "Tell me I don't know you. That I perceived you entirely wrong. I have spent so much of my fucking time memorizing you, even when you don't know it. The thing is, I do know you, I know you better than you could ever possibly know yourself."

The words roll off her tongue instantly, "You're wrong."

He tsked softly before trailing up her jawline, cupping her face with his hand, "This is a poor attempt of convincing yourself otherwise Cassiopeia."

She bit down on her lip harshly, the familiar taste of blood surfaced on her tongue. Her eyes flicked towards the mirror, and as she caught sight of herself, she wondered;

Do I even know myself?

--

After much convincing and protest from the girl, Rafe was able to take care of her leg. He elevated her leg by placing it on top of some pillows. She watched as he dunked his hands into a bowl of water, washing them clean of her blood. The clearness slowly turning to a murky red. She sucked her lip in thought, noticing how at ease he was, as if this was natural for him. They remained silent until it was impossible for her not to say something, his words unable to escape her brain.

"Can you promise me something?"

He didn't look up at her, his attention fixated on the blood rolling down her leg.

"Sure."

"Why did you do all of that for me?"

"Do what?"