Perfume

Chapter Seven - Intoxicated

~     bella     ~

He knew who I was before the wig came off. 

     I could see it in his eyes, blue grey like I'd never seen before. Linden was an open book, I had learned that over the last few months. It was easy to tell what he was feeling. The emotions passed along his face as clear as the waters  of an Icelandic river. 

     I saw the recognition, I saw realization, and I saw the shock. All clear, nearly tangible. 

     With my things on the floor, Linden stepped closer to me. He was sweating. The bright yellow light of the elevator highlighted the sweat on his forehead. There were stains under his arms and on his chest. The smell of his sweat swirled into my nose as he put his hands on my head, one in each side, blue eyes staring into my own, and in that moment it was the most wonderful perfume. Because it was Linden. It was all him.

     He stroked my hair, and I felt my heart starting up. Then the fresh air penetrated my scalp as he gently took off the wig, the Belladonna wig, and dropped it on the floor, his eyes never leaving mine.

     "Hanna," he whispered.

     I  smiled. He still knew me by that, still thought that was my real name. And it was, legally, but not within my heart, not within my blood. Inside I was and would always be Bella Riggers. Never Hanna Conroy.

     "It's you," he said, his lips remained open. Pink lips, just enough space in between the two to slide my tongue inside. I considered that for a moment but I didn't quite think this was the time for that.

     I nodded. "Yes, Linden."

     His eyes widened. Was he disgusted? I wondered. Was he ready to run away, to report me, to never speak to me again? I had feared this. Oh, God, I had feared he would leave, I had feared he wouldn't like this part of me. And I had dreamed about this moment. Had had countless nightmares in which Linden told The Evil Man, the man who'd ruined my life, who I was and what I was after. Those nightmares all ended in a different manner, but in the one I dreamed more often, I ended up locked in age, naked, while everyone laughed at me, riduculed me. And Linden was far, far away from my cage, shaking his head in disgust, ashamed that he had onced befriended such a vile, disgusting monster like me.

     Was that happening now? Was he going to flee as soon as the door opened? Is that what his wide eyes foreshadowed? I had prepared myself for this outcome. Had deemed this the most probable out of all of them. Yet still I wasn't ready. I wished I could pause the time. I wish I could enjoy Linden while I could still have him. I yearned for enough time for me to memorize his face, every single freckle that was sprinkled near his nose, on his cheeks; the way his lips curled when he chuckled; the shine in his eyes, the shine that was there all the time, because he was such a happy person. He was my sun.

     Linden. 

     I couldn't lose him now. But there was no other choice. I couldn't force him to love what he did not. I couldn't make him fall in love with the monster I was. 

     "Your voice," he said, his hands still on my head, his face near mine. His breath, his lips, his sweat. It was so intoxicating. He was toxic. Overwhelmingly intoxicating. Like poison, except he was healthy. He was furthest thing from poison, he was medicine. He was health. But he was as addicting as a drug, as intoxicating as a poison.

     He slid his hands down my dace, down my shoulders, and settled them on my waist. My skin tingled underneath his touch, it burned, it itched to be touched by him. I wanted him to touch me, to reach out again and touch me. All I needed was too feel him, for him to touch me. He was killing me and he didn't even know it.