Supernova

Chapter Ninety Three - Trigger Warning

Hanging out with brainwashed Elias was irritating at first, but the longer it went on, especially now that I had a glimmer of hope of getting us out of this and possibly getting my revenge while I was at it, it was just downright depressing.

Our dates were something to get through, something to smile through, something to do on near autopilot, because every good look I really got at this pathetic version of Elias that he'd been reduced to made me near want to puke.

"How was your day, my love?" He'd ask. He'd always ask about my day, and it was always, always a trap.

"It was fine," I'd tell him. But it didn't really matter if I said it was lovely or pleasant or great, because he'd always come back with the same thing.

"Only fine?" Or only pleasant? Or only great? And he'd frown and look genuinely troubled and take my hand and pull me in. "You deserve all your days to be extraordinary, my love!" He'd exclaim, and he'd spin me around and kiss my forehead and squeeze my hand, which I still had no way of knowing other than seeing it. "When we leave this place, we'll have no more distractions other than each other, and I'll spend every waking moment making your days worthy of you!"

Remember back when Elias was only a little brainwashed, and then a little later when he was only slightly more brainwashed, and I was constantly talking about how much I hated him? Understatement of the fucking millennium. However much I hated him then was but a drop in the ocean to ruthless, passionate hatred that I had for this version of him.

Still, I clung to the annoyance and the hatred because if I let it dissipate even for a second, the pity and guilt came rushing in in its place. I hated Elias, every version of him, yes, but I also loved him in my own type of way. I'd appreciated him, I'd gotten to know him, I'd shared a life with him for a significant amount of time, I'd let him in, and I'd learned to understand him. It may not all have been real, but a lot of it was. Enough of it was real to know that he never would have wanted any of this.

He'd loved to read, and he'd loved to learn. He'd loved to mark up books with pens and little stickers and keep notes of his thoughts or contradictions to whatever he was reading. He'd loved to ramble about such things, even when I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about and had nothing to contribute to the conversation. He'd loved clothes, and spent such a long time with his outfit combinations and accessories. He'd loved to tell me things I didn't know, and see if I could figure out whether or not he was lying. He'd loved to talk to me in code and get a rise out of me.

He'd loved Demon.

Whatever perfect version of a husband Insanity had reduced him to in order to lure me into this marriage was nothing but the barest bones of what made Elias Elias. Everything that had ever been so fundamentally Elias had been stripped away from him, and his brain was scrambled and fried enough that he was smiling through it all, genuinely pleased to think of nothing other than how to make Insanity's version of me happy.

In these moments, I would kiss his cheeks and squeeze his hands back and stare into those stranger's eyes, each action a silent promise: I will save us both, and I will bring you home.

Maybe I didn't loathe the decision they'd made to have me keep living in the dorm building so much, because besides having an easy way to get to Melanie, it offered me a reprieve.

Until, of course, a brand new collision of worlds presented itself to me once again in another horrifying text from Elias just an hour before we were supposed to go to some bullshit date. I'll meet you at your building. I have a gift for you. I once against flew off the bed and downstairs, wishing with all my might that I could just for once do something out of queen character and reply No!!! Stop showing up here, you psycho!!! But alas, I went downstairs and obediently waited for my husband among the whispers that had not lost any of their animosity.