The Scarred

Chapter 7

As Penelope slipped her key into the lock of her apartment door, her hand shook. Almost expecting him to be in her living space once more. However, when it opened and no one was there, there was no relief to be felt. It was only a matter of time that he showed his face to her again, and it didn't have to be whenever she got home. It could be at any moment, at any time, at any place. The only comforting thought about the situation was that he hadn't killed her. She assumed that if he wanted her dead, she already would be.

Penelope made her way to the fridge, pulling out leftovers to reheat for a quick dinner. As the microwave ran, she stared at the countertop in thought, facing the living room.

Even if no one else was there, his presence somehow lingered. She recalled his scent, however disturbing it was. She remembered the smell of gasoline and smoke, yet it held a sweet undertone. Burnt sugar, almost. Never would she have thought that he would have smelled of anything even remotely sweet.

She shook her head, itching to get those thoughts out of her head just as her microwave sounded. Switching the TV on, she bundled up in her blanket, food in her lap and started nibbling away. It was a good enough distraction for the time being, however temporary. And when she finished, she debated if she would even be able to sleep.

Putting the dishes away, she pulled out her phone and went to her call history, deciding on not being alone for the night. After the phone rang a few times, it picked up.

"To wha' do I owe tha pleasure, miss?" Penny smiled lightly.

"Would you mind having company tonight? I can't sleep..." Her voice faded at the end in embarrassment.

"I'll do ye one better and 'ed o'er ta yer place, yah? Tha' way we can work on ya feelin' safe in yer own space again. 'Ow's tha' sound?" The woman took a deep breath in thought.

"Okay... Yeah, that's fine."

"Be o'er in a minute, miss."

She decided to keep her bandages on with him coming over. It was uncomfortable, yes, but she couldn't help but feel naked with them off in front of others. Not even Emma has seen her without them. She wasn't sure if she would ever take them off in front of anyone, no matter who it was.

Barely over a minute later, there was a knock at her door. She peeked through the peephole, making sure it was in fact Liam before opening it for him. "I'm sorry if it's a bother -"

"Oi." Liam cut her off. "What'd I say abou' apologizin'?"

"Right."

"C'mon now, let's get ya some sleep, yah?" He rested a hand on her back and led her to her bedroom. Liam decided to stay above the covers while she climbed underneath, her head in his lap while he draped an arm over her. He watched as her eye finally began to close, keeping a close eye on her until she fell asleep.

"J -" The woman gasped. Her mind was clouded with the movement of his hands as they caressed her. Her mouth was parted, eye fluttered shut and head tilted back against her soft pillow as he guided her into oblivion. Their mixture of sweat and pants only ignited the atmosphere and he buried his head in her neck to lick a trail up to her jawline, earning a shiver beneath him.

Her eye opened again to see a face without the paint. A bare face with maniacal scars resembling a Cheshire smile. Yet the face itself was all too familiar. A face she hadn't seen for years. It brought nothing but comfort and security.

The bell above the door rang as she stepped into the warmer air. She trudged towards her chair, energy dampened from the night before. Just as she took her seat she heard footsteps coming from the back, heavier than usual.