Dancing With Death (Wattys2016)

Chapter Three

Hey guys sorry it took so long!!! Really happy to give you guys a new chapter!!!

This chapter is dedicated to SilverDusts for her continuous support!!! ;) Thank you!

A/N a great big thanks to groovystar for the wonderful cover above!!! ;)

Happy April Fools!

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Dancing with Death

"Who are you?" I asked, putting my free hand on my hip.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" He cocked his head to the side, and I had to try hard to keep my anger at him. He was so darn cute.

"I meant exactly what I said. Who. Are. You?" I repeated, my voice leveled and held a slight tone of coldness. I was proud of myself. I was never mad at him. The key was to stay away from him before he came up with an idea that always dissolved my anger at him. Whoever he was.

His face appeared to crumple, and I knew I had to be strong in my resolve. I couldn't let him distract me this time. It was time to finally know all the things he had been hiding. "Baby, why are you acting like this?" His eyebrows furrowed, and his blue eyes were narrowed at me.

"What is this when you try to push me away again?" He said. "Huh? Is that why?" The words came out of his mouth in a rush. He threw them out almost like they were acid. Bitter in his mouth.

"I want to know why I can't remember you!" I blurted, and he stood frozen. His feet rooted to the spot. "I want you to tell me why I can even remember my mother, but when it's you.... You-" I threw my hands up. "It's all blurry! My head aches and I let it go. Not anymore. I want you to tell me everything." I exhaled, my chest heaving up and down after my admission.

I felt more light, like there was less weight on my chest. It felt good. It felt good to finally say the words I had held back for so long. The tiredness would soon set in as it always did after an argument with him. It always left me emotionally drained.

"Oh, you really want to know huh, sweetheart?" He spoke, his voice was the only sound I had heard.

"Yeah, I actually do."

What he said next surprised me.

"Well, you don't know what I do. Maybe some things are better off not known." He said the last part barely above a whisper. So low I almost thought he didn't want me to hear it, but I did.

I was infuriated.

How dare he not think I could take the truth? That I was too fragile? Or he even thought I wasn't smart enough? The one that had me fuming was that he thought I couldn't take care of myself, and that I needed him to take care of it instead.

It was the last thought that drove my next actions. "Then why did you comment that about my mother, you jerk!" I knew exactly where to hit him, and how hard. "Maybe you need to take care of your own problems for a change. How about coming to terms with your past, and I don't know facing them! At least I acknowledge that my mother is dead." I spat, venom dripping off of each word. I knew it would hurt him, and for once I actually wanted to.

"You know what, I know you are angry so I will disregard you said anything about it." He says in a deep baritone voice which has always been there for me. Always. There is a seeming of acceptance as he sighs afterwards.

"Fine, if you want to know tell me what you remember about the night of the 'murder' of your mother."

"Well I don't know!!! Why does it matter?"