the sweetly scented killer

he loves me not

flora

He doesn't say anything. He just stands there and looks at me. Like he's waiting for me to change my mind.

I love you, Seth. My heart is yours.

I wait a few seconds while our weak eye contact stays put. But his only reaction toward my thoughts is a blink.

"No," Seth says finally.

I frown. "No?"

"You're not in love with me. You think you are, but you're not."

"I am not a fool, Seth. I know what I feel."

"Obviously not."

"Do not belittle me. I know exactly what I feel. You might not like it, but there is no changing the fact that I have fallen in love with the person you are."

"You have Stockholm Syndrome."

"I do not know what that is." Seth rolls his eyes and shifts his weight.

"You're not in love with me, and you never will be. Don't try." He takes a few steps away from me, but I run to be in front of him.

"You don't try to fall in love, Seth. It just happens. Even if unintentionally, you learn someone's heart and the way their brain works and you're hooked. I can't get enough of you. I want you in every way. I love you."

He frowns and closes his eyes. "Stop saying that."

"But I love you, Seth. I lo–"

"Flora," he snaps, his hand colliding with the wall beside me. I jump at the boom of his voice. It echos down the hall through the open door and makes everything around us stiffen. When his eyes go hard and his jaw clenches, I take a step back. His eyes are colder than ever; so cold they send shivers down my spine.

I've never really been afraid of Seth. Maybe because he's my husband and I...kind of thought he would never hurt me. But right now feels different. More dangerous.

Seth's eyes quickly soften and go back to their regular icy blue. "I--I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He says it in a voice so gentle I almost believe him. His tone after that is pleading. "Flora," he steps forward and reaches for my hand. I automatically step back. A horrified expression rests on my face--one I just can't seem to shake. He doesn't look like the nonchalant gentle giant I always thought him to be. He looks like the demon I never wanted to admit he was.

But if my eyes don't deceive me, a look of hurt washes over his face when he realizes that for the first time, I'm scared of him.

He balls his hand into a fist and drops it at his side. Seth aims his gaze at the ground and slides his hands into his pockets.

The silence between us lasts for what seems like hours. I sigh quietly before speaking. "Maybe the reason you don't want to hear me say that I love you is because you're too scared to admit that you feel the same way." My eyes flutter to his, just to find them looking over my head blankly. I almost try to get him to engage with the conversation, then I just walk into the hall.

I'm not quite sure where my legs are taking me, but I just let them.

"Hey, Flora," a voice greets me. I don't stop to see who it is.

"Hi."

"Flora?" I turn around and see Damien. "You good?" he raises his eyebrows. I almost affirm his question, then I walk up to him.

"Does Seth ever talk to you...about me?"

"Sometimes. He says you brought happiness into his life and ruined it by doing so." I laugh a little. He chuckles.