(Kyle SpencerxOC)
He was beautiful when he was alive; so handsome and innocent, with a kindness that was so hard to find in others. He was always upbeat, very enthusiastic about life and his future.
But he didn't get that future, no, because a witch took it from him. And now he was like this, a dead corpse with body parts that weren't his own, reanimated out of sick curiosity.
He had found me, left his creators to hunt me down, his mind still working the way it would if he were alive but slower.
I watched him now as he tried to eat, finding that using the spoon was rather difficult. With a grunt he dropped it, the anger evident on his face.
I took a deep breath, "Kyle?" His head shot up, dark eyes meeting my light green orbs. I scooted closer to him taking the spoon and, scooping up some oatmeal, held it up. His lips slowly parted, and I carefully slid it into his mouth. We continued this until there was nothing left, and I looked up at him and smiled. "You did it." I praised, and he beamed at me, his eyes expressing the joy he felt in that moment.
He was so perfect, even now as he struggled with reality. I knew eventually I'd have to go to them for help, which I knew they'd be able to provide. The girl named Zoe, whom had been the reason for his reanimation along with the witch who killed him, had managed to fix up the stitches, to make him look a little more normal.
He wasn't normal, but then again, he never was like everyone else. That's what I loved about him.
I led him to my room after wiping the oatmeal from his face, carefully helping him sit at the edge of my bed. He watched as I fumbled through a box of clothes, pulling out a clean shirt before walking back to him.
I held my arms above my head as a gesture for him to do the same, and when he did I gently pulled the long sleeved shirt up and over his head, throwing it to the side.
I traced over the scars on his chest, my cheeks burning with the anger I had kept pent up. Shaking the thoughts out of my head I slide the new shirt down his arms.
I sat next to him once he was fully dressed, letting a sigh escape my lips. "P...Perrie," his husky voice interrupted the silence. It was almost zombie like, the way he would speak now. But I didn't complain; it was better than not hearing him at all.
I looked over at him, "Yes?" I asked, encouraging him to continue. His lips parted, and a few minutes passed before sound came out, as if he was searching for the right words. "I...love...my...Perrie...."
I leaned down, resting my head on his shoulder as I slid my hand into his. "And I love you, Kyle." His hand squeezed mine gently at my response.
I did love him, more than my own life. He was my favorite monster....
