electric

blonde

a/n: there's nsfw in this part near the end. nothing too wild, just gray being strange. just a heads up!

How he'd gotten on with the blonde, Gray didn't know and couldn't say. Though she thought of her often, of him and her, and the thoughts ate away at her, swarming and biting like ants, no answer came, and one would never come, probably. The first days after he'd taken the blonde were hard for Gray; grappling with this new, strange jealousy was harder than she expected. When she thought about it too long, it began to confuse her. She didn't know that woman, she didn't know why he'd taken her in particular, so why the vitriol? And besides, what was the jealousy even for? It wasn't as though it would be hard to end up in the blonde's position, she thought. But that was just it, she supposed. She didn't want to be in the blonde's position. She couldn't want that, or at least want it so badly that she'd just hand herself to him, she realised. Perhaps she didn't want the game of it all to end, which it would, if she went and got herself killed. Whatever it was, it was positively exhausting to constantly be feeling such conflicting emotions all of the time, to be thinking such conflicting thoughts. For a while, days comprised of sitting in that chair by the window with a bottle or two of something, unmoving, unspeaking, unwashed and barely dressed half of the time. Sometimes, the blinds wouldn't even be open, but she'd stare at them like they were, thinking all the while. That blonde plagued her mind, the thought of that pretty curtain of hair now sticky and wet and clumped with blood never leaving, not even for a minute. She didn't know this woman, but the amount of thoughts that concerned her made Gray feel as though she knew her intimately. Eventually, she began filling in all of the gaps of the things she didn't know about the blonde, like she were writing a character; she'd be a prostitute- some poor girl unlucky enough to offer her services to an absolute madman like her neighbour. She'd have been Christened Jessica, or Ashley, or Nicole but would be going by something like Jade, or Angel, or Natalia because a "unique" name sells better. Gray's blonde,  Miss Jade-Angel-Natalia, would be selling herself to help put herself through college, or to provide for her kid, or support her drug habit. Something like that. It became a game to Gray, to constantly be adding things, coming up with new little details about who the blonde was, and the more she did it, the more she found the jealousy subsiding. It was as though she, J-A-N, had become a character in a movie, or show, more so than a real life person who may or may not be rotting in the house across the street, and that made things a little easier.

Gray was in better spirits for a while then. Her neighbour didn't bring anyone else home for a long while, though she still watched for him every night. She'd seen him leave one night, but when he came back, he didn't bring anyone with him. She supposed that J-A-N was keeping him as entertained as she was keeping Gray, so he had no need for a new toy just yet. There was still the occasional pang of jealousy whenever her thoughts wandered to darker places, whenever she found herself aching to know what exactly it was he was doing to the blonde in there, but it was definitely a more manageable thing for her now- the storm clouds had all but disappeared. It had all but passed, and like always, she'd weathered it and came out still standing. Well, sitting mostly. In that chair, by the window.

It was evening a little while after her neighbour had taken the blonde. Gray had found herself sat on the couch in front of the television, a tray on her lap with some godawful meal-for-one sat going cold on top of it. She'd drawn the curtains already, as she did, but the steadily fading glow from behind them told her that the sun had set now, the heavens all pinks and purples high above as the day drew to a close. The news was on, not that she was paying much attention at all; her eyes were on the screen but her mind was somewhere else entirely, somewhere dark and damp and unsurprisingly blonde. She pushed a forkful of food around her plate as she thought, her eyes unfocused, her ears barely hearing what the newsreaders on screen were talking about. That was until something caught her attention, a few tiny snatches of speech pushed their way through her thoughts into a place that let her register them; "body found", "blonde", "believed to be", "missing." Gray suddenly sat up straighter, and blinked, furrowing her brow slightly. The blurred shapes on the screen focused, and it were as though she'd just taken out a pair of ear plugs. She tilted her head at the screen, pushing her glasses a little further up her nose. The newsreader on screen continued talking with a solemn expression on her face, and then suddenly a picture popped up beside her. Gray's eyes widened slightly, and she stared at the picture; the blonde in the picture smiled back at her, her silvery hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, her hazel eyes screwed up with laughter.