He's A Monster

A Bit Of Lip Action

Marshal's Perspective (POV)

"Ugh."

I leaned my arm against the window frame, staring out at the dark stretch of blue water below. The moonlight rippled across its surface like it had secrets I couldn't hear. My eyes drifted down to my wristwatch: 10:48 p.m.

She should be here soon. Right?

My nails tapped lightly against the wood as I ran my tongue along the tips of my teeth.

"Marshal?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"I've got another painting for you."

"Oh, uh... just leave it in my room."

Another painting. Who keeps sending me these?

"You alright? I know the injection might've made you a litt--"

"I'm fine."

I left the cramped little room, stepping out onto the dock. The air was cooler by the water, the wood beneath my feet creaking faintly. I glanced at the watch again:10:58 p.m.

Late. One minute late. Control freak.

I tugged at the hem of my clothes, frowning faintly. Was I too put-together for my age? Should I dress down like the other guys at school: basketball shorts, plain tees? I shook my head and exhaled. The water rippled, catching my eye.

Lucky things, those fish. Swimming free, unbothered, until someone decides to hurt them. Just like people, innocent until cruelty singles them out.

"Phew." I wiped sweat from my brow, laughing at myself. Comparing fish to human cruelty? Maybe I had lost my mind. But then again, wasn't I already labeled a monster?

I crouched down, resting one knee against the dock. My fingers broke the surface of the water, sending a shiver through my veins. It made me think of Danielle: the warmth of her skin, the way she cared for everyone but herself.

"Too sweet for her own good," I muttered, stirring the water.

The ripples reminded me of her: pale, almost transparent skin threaded with delicate blue veins. She had no idea how powerful her beauty was. That, I thought, was the cruelest kind of evil.

A distant howl carried through the night. The woods stirred. Leaves crunched underfoot. My jaw tightened as I turned my gaze toward the trees. Probably just an animal.

And then...her.

She stepped from the shadows, small frame moving cautiously, head turning left and right as if searching for me. My watch read 11:05 p.m. Time crawled, but I didn't mind.

Her lips curved when she spotted me. Even from here, I could see the pale blush on her face. She carried a small bag, the fabric of her nightgown clinging to her in the moonlight.

"Sorry I'm late. Couldn't find my shoes," she said, bare feet padding on the dock.

I smirked. "I see that."

We stood there, tension hanging in the silence. Another howl. She broke it first.

"I love that."

I tilted my head. "Love what, Miss Danielle?"

"This. The woods, the animals... it's calm, it's just.."

"Beautiful," I finished, watching her smile at the water. "Like you."

Her lips twitched with surprise, but her confidence snapped back quickly. "You play your cards well, Marshal."

Sweet Danielle. Always braver than she realized.

She set down the bag and sat on the edge of the dock, feet dipping into the water. I joined her, tall frame casting a shadow across her smaller one.

"You've told me why you did it," she said carefully. "But how are you not locked away right now?"

I chuckled realizing she was bringing up my parents again, the murders. "Interesting question."

She looked up, moonlight sparking in her eyes. "Can you... control people?"

"That's one way to put it. I can change what they see, what they believe." I crouched closer, my face inches from hers. "That's exactly how I stayed free."

Her lips parted in wonder. "So you just... convinced the police to forget?"

"Exactly."

Her doubt lingered, so I brushed my thumb along her bottom lip. The way she reacted—every little gesture mattered. "I could prove it. On you."

Her eyes widened. "Would you hurt me?"

The question stung. I'd hurt plenty of others. Why did I pretend to be offended? Still, I leaned closer, whispering, "Never intentionally."

She softened. "Pinky promise?"

I smiled. "Of course, love."

"Do it," she urged.

I cupped her jaw, slowed my breathing. Tell me what's in the bag.

Her lashes fluttered. "The clothes I borrowed from you, sir."

It worked. I smirked as she blinked again.

"Marshal?"

"Yes, love?"

"Did it... work?"

"Yes," I said simply.

She looked away, toes stirring the water again. Then, quietly: "Do you think there's one person for everyone?"

"I'm starting to."

Her cheeks pinkened. "Would it be... incredibly inappropriate if I kissed you right now?" Her voice small, hopeful.

I stood, tearing my gaze away. "Yes. Yes, it would."

Her footsteps followed, bag in hand. Face flushed and eyes downcast. She pressed it into mine. "Here."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"Goodnight, Marshal."

I watched her walk back into the woods, straps digging into her shoulder. My chest tightened. Disappointment.

"Oh, Danielle," I whispered, voice breaking. "I'm sorry."

I turned back toward the sound of her fading footsteps. "Please... don't think it is because of you, love."