Soon {Zarry}

Nine Notes

"Good afternoon, Zayn."

"Meaningless greetings, darling. Just get on with the questions."

"How are you feeling?"

"Bored. Trapped. Obsessed."

"Okay. Why?"

"Prison is not as entertaining as I thought. Everytime I try to stir up trouble for my amusement, I don't get to see you everyday. I'm trapped within these concrete walls and handcuffs. I haven't killed someone in seven months, two weeks, five days, and 4 hours. I would be more detailed with my minutes and seconds, but then I'd be thinking about it too much."

"Why did you become so obsessed with finding the perfect red for your erm. . . masterpieces?"

"It started when I was painting the blood dripping from a seductress' mouth. She wasn't dead, just a metaphor for how insatiable they are. Nothing was believable enough, every shade was too synthetic. I wanted, no. . . I needed the real deal. So, I got it."

"You wanted authenticity?"

"And nothing less."

"Would you like music today as well?"

"Yes, please."

". . ."

". . ."

"Does it calm you?"

"Hmm?"

"The music. . . Does it calm you?"

". . . No, I am enraptured by it. The melodies help me focus the work I am doing with my hands. It fills the silence in my head when I am doing thoughtless movements."

"Thoughtless movements?"

"Yes, the only time I don't allow myself to think is when I am making my art or obtaining my ink."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, the reason  I listen to music with you is not to fill the silence. Music is a way of expression, each note a word that the mouth can't convey the emotion behind. Each song's melody is a silent yearning. Within every pause are the words left unsaid to their beloved. Every soft stroke against ivory keys are loving touches, and every loud note is the roaring flame of passion within the small confines of a human heart. Cheesy, I know, but it doesn't make it any less true."

". . ."

"I want to touch you again. I want to kiss your soft lips once more. These handcuffs are a barrier between me and my desire."

". . ."

"I have scared you again. . . Everytime I say too much, I can tell. It's all over your face: fear. As a psychiatrist, you should be better at hiding your emotions. You're much too easy to read."

"No, you just have a talent for seeing the truth in people's lies."

"That's why I like you, darling. You never even attempted to lie. I never met such an honest person."

"How would you even know? Outside of this room, I could have told a thousand lies, and you would have no clue."

"Don't make me laugh, darling. I told you this once before. I know a lot of things, things that would make you squirm in your seat."

"Like what?"

"The other day, you accidentally took a pack of gum without paying. Instead of carrying on home, you went back and paid the ninety-five cents. Not many people would care about something as minor as that."

"How did you know that?"

"Can't say. It was just a lucky guess."

"I think we should end today's session early."