All that is dark | ✓

2| red

"TELL ME, WHAT'S YOUR name?"

The guards were still on edge from before, but Nathan simply seemed amused. It was the only emotion he displayed and one which was clearly fake, no matter how well he played the role. He didn't care about anything here, that Helene could easily guess. Dante, who had been standing on her left, had started looking at her as if she was crazy for some reason, though she supposed that was at least better than the angry look he had carried earlier.

"I just introduced myself," she said.

"Not your surname," Nathan said as he leaned back in his chair," your first name."

"Why?" she asked.

"You know mine," he said," don't you think I'm at least allowed your first name when you're soon going to delve into my whole life?"

He had a certain way of phrasing things which made it hard to say no, but Helene didn't mind giving him this win. Even though she intended to keep as much information from him as possible, for him to start talking she'd have to talk as well. All she had to do was take care not to give him anything of importance.

"It's Helene," she said.

"A name fit for a tragedy," Nathan smiled, his eyes slowly wandering across her face," though it suits you. The kind of beauty countries have fallen for."

"Countries have fallen because of arrogance," Helene said," never simply for a woman, though they like to blame it on whoever they can. Anyway, I've never cared for tragedies."

"That's a lie," Nathan said, gaze analyzing her every move as his smile widened," why would you be here if you didn't care for tragedies? Isn't that what you see when you look at me?"

"Is that how you think you're perceived?" Helene asked, resting her chin on her hand," a tragedy?"

At that Nathan seemed to be taken aback briefly, but he didn't let his surprise linger too long.

"You didn't answer my question," he said.

"You didn't answer mine either," she replied.

If she got too caught up in his pace, that could never mean much good, that she knew. Answering his questions would make her lose here, because there was no right answer to the things he was asking. All it would do was offer insight in her mind without giving any into his. He didn't want to seem to bite just yet though, instead changing the subject. Fine. She would play along a little then.

"What's your favorite color?" he said.

"Red," she said," what's yours?"

"It's red as well," Nathan drawled," it seems we have something in common, Helene."

"It seems we do," she said," can -"

"I think that's enough for today," he interrupted her," I still need some time to get used to having a psychiatrist, never mind a new one, so I hope you will excuse me."

If she didn't, he wouldn't talk anyway, that she knew, so she nodded. The guards let her and Dante leave first, her bodyguard glaring daggers at her all the way into the hallway. Honestly, he looked more hostile than the actual serial killer she had just spoken to, though she knew Nathan was yet to show her anything real about him. For a moment she lingered on the way they had the same favorite color. She had always liked red because it was so vibrant, so far from what she had used to be as a child. Even now it felt like the color didn't suit her, though she kept all the clothes she bought in the back of her closet, just in case that one day they might.

"Why did he like red?" she murmured, only realizing she had said her thoughts out loud when Dante stared at her.

"I thought you were smart," he scoffed," he obviously said that because it's the color of blood, because he's a sick son of a bitch and he wanted to scare you."