The Firefly

35°

I thought I'd reverse things a bit--this chapter is one of my favorites <3

***

When he opened his eyes only darkness greeted him.

He squinted as he felt the usual claustrophobic feeling scratch his skin and press against his chest.

Something ... someone, at his side moved and his attention leapt to a slender body leaning against his.

Perhaps he was dreaming.

No.

In his dreams at least he discerned shades other than the pitch black in which he was constantly immersed, at least he saw silhouettes, noticed movements.

He was awake, he was convinced.

It was raining outside, he imagined it was cold but felt himself on fire when he remembered who the other person in the room was. Like an allergic reaction it spread over every inch of his skin.

Every time they were so close he felt it, like haunting ivy branching out around his chest tightening and making it difficult to breathe.

He hated it ... however ... at the same time it made him feel alive.

Whenever he heard her voice his heart seemed to miss a beat.

He felt his confidence waver when she spoke to him, softened him.

He often remembered their first meeting: superficial, he would describe it that way.

He had not slept the night before, nor had he touched food.

Mrs. Holland was pressing lately, always feeling her breath on his neck and her eyes on him.

She annoyed him.

So much.

He still could not know how much he would miss her in the months to come.

Even she, the only one who had always been there for him, would soon leave.

She would abandon him.

And he would never forgive her that.

It was since she had found him slumped in the bathroom with his head bowed, his face pale and a chilling dark red running down his long, tapered fingers spilling onto the cold floor, that she had been keeping an eye on his every movement.

It was not the first time he had tried to end that torment.

He had tried before, and failed.

He failed all the time, at everything.

Four months had passed since that night, but the pain on his skin he still felt.

He would not listen to the candidates for the position speak that day; he already knew he did not want them around.

He would let the woman at his side deceive them and then warmly invite them out promising to contact them again soon.

What a little theater.

He hated being in the presence of new people.

He hated the presence of people in general.

She walked in like the others.

He knew immediately that it was not a man by the footsteps.

Noisy and clumsy, but not heavy.

Reading her resume she felt a hint of a cocky smile break out on his face. She was an inexperienced, mediocre little girl. She was perfect.