AHS One Shots {Tumblr Version}

Familiarities Upon Death

If you had put The Countess and you in a room together, you likely ended up discussing James. She did not love the ghost. She never did. You always did. You forever had his undead heart.

Yet the relationship wavered. It wavered all too similarly. James could feel his heart break again. He couldn't face this. He couldn't. Not again.

How many hearts did he have to leave at your door? How many notes did he have to scribble on his napkins? How many flowers did he have to get Liz or Iris to order for you? How much murder did he have to get through, just to get you? You modern, stubborn, darling, annoying thing!! Were you trying to torture him??

"Darling I have managed to order one of your favourite meals."

"My dear, I noticed this dress on a visitor so I killed her and had the dress washed for you. Please enjoy it."

"My hummingbird, what books do you enjoy nowadays?"

Question after question. Need after need. Physical affection halted. Just holding your fingers. Holding your hand against his lips was all he wanted. It would feed his desperation for you for months. All he wanted was a look. One measly look into your eyes. One small glint of hope that your relationship with the ghost had not fallen into his one with Elizabeth.

He came to accept that he once again had his heart broken. His ghostly void of a heart. Deader inside than it was before.

"James?" Your voice rang. Like a fire stoked after so long of ice. The killer was scrambling at your feet like a clingy puppy. Milking and lapping up the noise of his name leaving your lips. Still as wonderful, still as ethereal as ever. Yet he stayed silent. Don't say anything stupid now James, you'll ruin this opportunity. "Can you murder someone for me?"

"Yes. Yes of course my dear." James's voice was suddenly shaky, standing up and holding your hands to his chest. His free hand around the small of your back, like he had craved to do for so many weeks. "Name who and it will be done."

"Me."

Eye contact like none before. Was what you were asking true? Did you want him to be your murderer? Truly? "D-dear?"

"Kill me, James." You stated. "Whether or not you want theatrics, it's your choice."

There was a stunned silence from the ghost in front of you. For 5 minutes, the silence continued. His response was an uncharacteristic quiet and nervous answer. "Why? Why my dear? Why must you crave death when you are so loved by family outside this drab heap?" Almost rushed, worried. James had never been so rushed with his words. The usually calm, collected man was a mess in front of you. Desperate for you to be living your life. The most odd statement for him to think. What was he thinking? He wanted you with him 24/7, obviously, but you were so accomplished already in life, and offers were at your feet.

Even an offer to still live but have a blood-loving virus instead. She had offered gracefully and didn't expect an answer at once. Gave you time to think. Yet, The Countess waited still. She awaited an answer with lowering patience. Any new day, and she might've killed you herself or turn you anyway. Enjoyed the nectarine that kept you alive. The liquid was a rush of endorphins for the woman.

"Because I don't want that life, James. I need that life like I need a ton of bricks heaping upon me." Your eyes never broke his when you spoke your words calmly, and rationally. "I need you like I need a ton of bricks heaping upon me."

The ghost could only look worried and almost scared at your sentences. What on earth were you saying? What was this nonsense you had drilled into your mind? "...were my gifts not enough my bird? Were the..the.. darling meals I offered not enough?" He stammered his way through the cries. The pleas to keep you alive. Why, any other time you may have offered yourself, James would create a theatre performance out of it. An erotic performance. Looking into your eyes was nothing but a confirmation. "...as you wish my hummingbird." You dropped yourself out of his hold.