PSYCHOPATH

chapter 17: red herrings

Chapter 17:  Red Herrings

~ "Afterward, the small deceptions we allow ourselves: a sickness, unchecked. Like this: & first sunlight. Snow continues. I could never close my eyes to light. But there was no light & you looked like night."

~ excerpt from '& then afterward' by Nate Pritts

The clearing of a throat reminded her that she was not alone, that she never was. She was in the house of an enemy; how could she forget? She slowly rotated around, her knees feeling weak and jelly-like. This part had to come eventually, it was inevitable; it was just overwhelmingly terrifying to have to approach and face it, this confrontation.

"Hello." Ella said dumbly. A wispy sort of smile tentatively found its way on her lips. She played with her hands, nervous. Everything she had prepared to do and say to him evaded her right then and she was left with a stupid blankness.

His gaze was unyielding and cold, his expression like true steel. He stood there in the middle of the hallway, blocking any exit or entry, eyes narrowed in on her; undoubtedly waiting for a justification for her intrusion. And she didn't really, truly have a justification.

"What are you doing here?" he wanted to know. Low, quiet, rough, like he hadn't used his voice for days. It was as harsh as the look on his face. It disquieted her, felt dangerous.

A cold shock ran through her with the coarseness in his voice. What had she expected? A welcoming party? Especially when she basically broke in just to talk to him? Coming here was dangerous, and she was being plain stupid for expecting anything less.

"Your door was unlocked," she stated, blinking, as if that explained everything, "which is not very safe, you should maybe check that."

William rolled his eyes tiredly. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" he reiterated with gritty emphasis. He glowered more from his position in the doorway.

Ella froze a bit, couldn't help but take him in with her bewildered eyes. He had practically disappeared the past week, up and vanished like a ghost. She drank him in as best as she could, to tell her he was alive and that he had existed at one point in time, that she hadn't made him up since her mind was not working the best lately.

She immediately noticed that he looked like shit. His messy dark hair was falling over his forehead, more disobedient than it usually was. He was pale, aside from the heavy circles beneath his eyes, like he hadn't slept in days. And as for those grey eyes...well she searched them for any hint that he might want to harm her and saw nothing. Absolutely nothing...as if his eyes were empty, simply an abyss of nothing.

And finding nothing...that didn't necessarily reassure that he didn't mean her harm.

Though from the looks of it, there didn't seem to be much fight left in him. He was angry with her, undoubtedly, but to what extent she was not sure. Exhaustion seemed to make up his very existence in that moment. Perhaps, Will being on 'sick leave' was not entirely a lie and she couldn't help but feel a crushing guilt start to burn in her ribcage as if she was the one to cause that suffering. Like she broke him. It would be vain to think that she had that kind of control over him, but nevertheless she still couldn't help the burn of guilt near her ribs.

"Are you okay?" She ignored him once more, needing to know, anything to help that guilt in her chest but also because she was genuinely worried.

"Ella."

She glanced down at his fingertips, noticing the stained paint on them, the colors of blue and black. The black was her hair. The blue must have been for her eyes.