Are You Watching?

Chapter Nineteen: Amoret

It's been a week. A week since I saw Vesper and a week since I came face to face with my stalker. The words he carved into my skin haven't faded- they're still there, etched deep. Every time I walk past a mirror, I find myself lifting my shirt, my eyes drawn to the marks on my thighs.

Fucking slut.

Not exactly a master of creativity, is he? Though, I suppose, considering his letter was just as bad, he's only good with words when they're spilling out of his mouth. He should probably put down the pen- and the blade, too. But, if I'm honest, I enjoyed it more than I care to admit. Maybe that's why I haven't bothered to heal the cuts, why the wounds are scabbing over and eliciting a jolt of pain every time my thighs brush together.

I turn in bed, reluctantly setting my book down for a moment to check my phone. I bite back a frown, irritated that I haven't gotten a single message from my stalker. It's unlike him to be so quiet. I'm starting to think he's avoiding me purposefully, as if he's waiting for me to grow needy, desperate for his attention- so the next time I see him, I won't be able to hide it.

He even skipped his usual Sunday visit. Though, considering he'd given me a body just a few days before, he probably decided I didn't need another one so soon. I can only hope that he'll be here this Sunday, which is only four days away.

Vesper, on the other hand, has no problem showing his desperation. Fourteen texts since the last time I saw him, each one a little more unhinged than the last. He's clearly craving an explanation, but I don't have one to give. I've been running through what I could say, but every time I try, I come up empty. I've decided to put it off, hoping I'll come up with something believable eventually.

I'll have to explain the kiss too, though he hasn't asked a single thing about that- more concerned about everything in between. I'm sure he's just as confused as I am. I didn't plan on kissing him- hell, I don't even know why it happened. I might be able to come up with a lie for everything that happened at my house- the mini interrogation, the phone-stealing, the banging- but not the kiss. And definitely not the second one, the kiss goodbye.

My body acted on its own accord, and I had no control over what happened. I could chalk the first kiss up to a distraction, but the kiss goodbye? That wasn't warranted. I just wanted to. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again. They were soft, and I could taste the remnants of his minty toothpaste, his chapstick, and even the weed he'd inhaled before coming in. He was so sweet in the way he kissed me- desperate, like he was reaching for something he couldn't have. Like he had to make the best of it before it disappeared forever. I could feel his longing, and it made my dead heart stir, like it could beat once more.

I've thought about what it would be like to do it again- maybe even a few more times. But the thought is so sickly sweet, I have to shove it away before it makes me sick to my stomach. I'm not built for good things. Kissing the masked man who sneaks into my home and takes control of my body feels far more fitting for me than kissing the sweet man who would actually value my heart over my flesh.

Vesper Valle is the kind of man someone like me can only dream about. He's morning coffee and breakfast in bed, movie nights curled up on the couch, and lazy Sunday picnics in the park. He's soft whispers between kisses and promises of forever murmured in the quiet of a bedroom. He's everything warm and unattainable, and even if I could reach him, it would never last. I'd taint him with the darkness that runs too deep inside me, and he deserves better than that.

I'm more breaking and entering, knives flying at my head and barely dodging. I'm horror movies made real, hiding behind trees at the park on Sundays, watching the world go by with a detached gaze. Degrading words whispered between feverish kisses, promises to make it sting just to feel alive. Vesper and I could never be together. He's everything I'm not, everything that would crumble under the weight of who I am.