Prompted---SLOW UPDATES---

My Monster

I used to spend everyday just waiting until I had to go to bed. Those were the times when I could talk to him. Talking to him was my favorite thing to do. We could talk about anything; about things as frivolous as my current read to stuff as deadly serious as his innermost thoughts of himself.

Everyone had always told me that he would be terrifying and ugly, but he wasn't. Really, he was one of the most beautiful people I had ever met. If I had bumped into him at school, I would have immediately pegged him as one of the popular kids. You know, the ones who always seemed to be looking down on you because you weren't as perfect as they were. If I had bumped into him at school, I would have said sorry with my head bowed low and avoided him as much as possible for the rest of the school year.

But I didn't meet him by bumping into him at school. I met him when he crawled out from underneath my bed.

He was my monster.

But James wasn't really like that. He was beautiful, both on the outside and the inside. I often joked he was my angel, though I admit I argued with myself a lot on whether he was an avenging angel or my guardian angel.

He once told me that he thought of himself as a monster, too. He had vicious, destructive thoughts, psychotic desires of excessively torturing and brutally murdering people. At my scared look, he explained that he only ever wished these thoughts towards monstrous people, the ones we talk to everyday who go home to molested and beaten families, or to corpses hidden in their basements.

While I was frightened by the incredible detail he spoke with, I knew with unmistakable clarity that he would never intentionally hurt me. In fact, he was indescribably protective of me. He was always prepared with a first aid kit for those times when I was clumsy enough to hurt myself. And the time he came out to find me sobbing my eyes out with a razor blade to my arm? The pure anger, worry, and fear in his eyes alone was enough for me to see that he cared so intensely for me...

I'm not sure exactly when I fell for him, really. I only truly realized it the night before my eighteenth birthday. I knew the next morning I would be given a weapon of some sort and be expected to tear his heart out, killing him.

And while I sat there curled up next to him for the last time, I realized that I couldn't. I wouldn't see that happy light draining from his eyes. I refused to.

He wasn't just my friend, he was the man I loved. A man who trusted me, who loved me. A man who had dreams of being able to fly someday, among many other things.

When it clicked into place that I actually, legitimately loved him, I did something that shocked both of us. For several minutes, we just stared at each other in wonder or embarrassment. I kissed him. Breaking the silence, he laughed that throw his head back laugh that always made me smile like an idiot. "So at long last, you figured it out," he shook his head, grinning. "I wondered if you would before it was too late. It seems I know you better than you know yourself."

The rest of our last night was spent holding each other, laughing about anything and everything, and occasionally kissing each other. He mentioned the next day only once, telling me that no matter what happened, he loved me and he would never raise a hand against me. Nothing more was said on the matter. And we fell asleep in each others' arms.

The next morning was solemn and silent between us. He helped me get ready as he normally did, though I was not to wear my usual t-shirt and skinny jeans. Instead I wore the ceremonial fighting dress. He wouldn't let me leave until after an especially long hug and a soft kiss to my forehead.

As I finished eating my breakfast, a knock at the front door signalled the arrival of my two best friends, Rachel and Autumn. I was the oldest of the three of us and was, therefore, the first to enter into my coming of age ceremonial battle. Both of them gave me encouraging smiles, eagerly whispering to each other about the possibilities of my monster and its frightening disposition.