THE MAGICIANS [t.r.]

NINE

act two, chapter nine
six pieces of coin

SHE PRETENDS TO SLEEP, holds her breath and hides under the covers. represses a shiver, pretends to pray, keeps her eyes closed and feels his stare. it's childish, Tom thinks, how she cracks one eye open to check if he's still awake.

            JUDITH
            i don't like the beard, get rid of it.

            TOM
            go to sleep, judith

instead of obeying, Judith rests her hand against his chest to feel his heart beating at the same rhythm as hers, then she begins to draw pattern with her fingertips making his breath hitch.

            TOM
            what are you doing?

            JUDITH
            i don't want to sleep. i'll dream,
            and in dreams it's very easy to be
            deceived by lies, or even hope.
            you can't trust what you see
            in dreams, it all sounds
            too good to be true.

she's rambling on purpose, whispering and distracting him as she keeps exploring his skin. touching him and smiling when she feels him tense. Tom stops her hands.

            TOM
            don't.

            JUDITH
            don't what?

even in the darkness he can see that wicked spark in her eyes. she's good at feigning innocence, her voice betrays nothing —so naive— but her wide smile all provoking tells a different story.

            TOM
            don't play.

his voice comes out thick and hoarse, too restrained to caused by annoyance. he swallows and licks his lips. she mimicks the gesture, it looks unnatural on her. it's maddening. to feel her continue to touch him, to see her green eyes in the dark, watching him back. Tom loathes her and aches to slaughter her. but hatred had always followed the outline of desire and there, imprisoned by Judith's gentle cares he seems to be unable to tell them apart. her touch is overwhelming to the point of madness, all he feels is the impulse to sink his teeth on her, taste her rotten flesh, tear her skin apart and feels her bones crack beneath him; hear her scream, shout his name, beg for release.

            TOM
            judith...

he doesn't realise it's his own voice until Judith suddenly stops, fingertips resting on his lips, taunting. he feels her eyes gleamed observing him with an animalistic undertone: famished, eager, awaiting.

but he doesn't respond. he remains still as if he's pretending to sleep, but his eyes are open. it's rather childish, isn't it? Judith frowns disappointed and Tom feels her draw away her hand, she settles on the bed, closes her eyes trying to sleep. the lack of contact leaves him cold and bothers him more than it should. he's angry at his own unresponsive nature. it's his turn to reach out, betraying his pride and reason, he grabs her hand tightly, enough to hurt and leave red marks on her skin. he pulls her in, brings her hand back to his lips, and kisses it.