PERVERSE - Apply Fic

28

Ambrose still lies on the floor of the bathroom on the twelfth afternoon of November. The sun sets early, and so Eva is making quick work with the golden light leaking in through the window. She wipes his face with a damp cloth, cold against his still burning skin. Eva leans back on her knees to bring her cigarette up to her lips and take a drag. No one will know, since Ambrose still smells like smoke.

With a comb, she brushes through his hair. In the past week, she has managed his hair more than her own. He always looked put together. Maybe he had some stubble on the rare occasion, but Ambrose was a law student and looked like it. She has a rats nest, but he has moss growing in his hair. The others who watch over him, including Clare, Leo and Ajay, aren't as gentle with his skin.

Audrey certainly is not. She lies in the bathtub, legs hanging over the side and back pressed into the acrylic bathtub. Audrey has taken to counting all of the tiles on the ceiling. In days, she has not left. She has not slept either. Every night, she stirs, inching around just to see if whoever is watching Ambrose has succumb to sleep. No one has, but the longer this goes on, the more they will let their guards' slip.

The others are silly. Ajay would not cut open Ambrose, not even the smallest cut to see if mud seeped from the wound rather than blood. No one else will keep the gunk that they scoop from his insides, always appearing more and more even though he has not eaten or drank in nearly two weeks. No one else will reach into his chest, crack open his ribs, and grab hold of his heart to see if it is beating. He exhales, but never does he breathe in. His eyes have not stopped darting back and forth.

"We made another friend today," Eva whispers to Ambrose, leaning in close to his ear to speak the words. "That's got to more than either of us had together. Maybe even combined."

Ambrose doesn't answer. Of course, he doesn't. Eva sighs and stubs out her cigarette, half burned. She lies down on the linoleum floor next to him, staring up at the yellowing ceiling. Her fingers crawl on the ground until they find his, squeezing tightly to kill whatever thin wriggles in his skin. She turns her head to look over at him.

"I think you'd like them Ro," she shuffles her body in so their shoulders touch. "I really do. Even though they aren't dead."

Inside the bathtub, Audrey plugs her ears. Eva's raspy voice is so grating.

Eva cackles, "I once called you a necrophiliac, but look at me now?"

She turns her head. Despite the cold, her greasy hair sticks to the sweat on the back of her neck. She hopes he is alive, if only because they haven't moved him. Were he dead, it would be so cruel to leave him here. Eva would steal a coffin for him. She once dug up a body for fun by his side. And she would bury him, for his sake.

Eva leans forward and kisses his temple quickly.

~~~

No snow has fallen in days, no rain either, and so the plans for a snow shoveling business have been curbed. It's cold outside, dipping below zero most mornings and only barely scratching its way to above freezing when the sun is at its highest. Already, the sun sets early. Fallon tries to move quickly as she tapes posters to the polls, advertising the service she and Nico are hoping to do.

Rich people don't enjoy walking their dogs in the cold. They've already had one person call this week, and they are going to be walking the dog twice a week. Twenty dollars is more than nothing.

"I need more tape," Fallon whispers.

Este sighs, ripping off some more tape. They pass the long strip to Fallon, who presses it up on to the pole as well. Este shoves their hands back in their pockets. Their fingers feel sticky from the ends of the tape. Eva was supposed to pitch the next, and allegedly final, heist this evening, but Ambrose is still not awake.