Masks

Chapter 7

V approached the couch. She was sitting there, shoulders slumped, countenance sad. She straightened as she heard him approach. "Movie time?" She turned to inquire. She saw him standing there. His mask had been replaced. The memory, of the lips that lay behind it, coloured her cheeks. She was shocked to see he had not replaced the wig, his shock of curls was enough to hide his ears and frame the mask. But she was even more shocked to see the rivulets of blood running down his hand.

He could see the movie she had chosen, he recognized the title on the screen The Salt Flats. Valerie's movie. His eyes moved from the screen to her face as her question reached him. Her blush was alluring. He knew what she was thinking of, the moments they had shared in the kitchen, his mind went there as well. His chest tightened, it became difficult to breathe. The bottom of his stomach dropped to the floor. The warmth spread to his extremities. He could feel desire rolling through him. He was unabashedly watching her relishing in the anonymity his mask afforded his eyes. He tried to clear his throat in order to speak, but stopped when he saw the fear on her face.

She jumped over the back of the couch, graceful and lithe. "Go sit now." She was upset. She could feel the tears brimming, as she moved around him. She entered the bathroom. The mirror was there in a million shards. She ran her hand over it as the tears fell. How could he do this to himself? He had her didn't he? She was wracked with sobs. How could he not realize it was not himself he was hurting, but her as well? She retrieved the first aid kit as the tears began to subside. She brought it to the couch where V was sitting, his head in his uninjured hand, the injured one cradled in his lap.

He could see the tears she had shed. They had streaked her cheeks and he could see the unshed ones sparkling in the corners of her eyes. She sat beside him pulling his injured hand into her lap. She began to dress the cuts. He felt horrible. Her pain was much greater than anything he felt in relation to his wounded hand. He buried his mask into his hand, trying to hide his shame. He could feel her pain plainly as the day.

She could see him retreat. He pulled into himself. She felt a wave of sadness crash into her, she had nothing to say to him. She finished dressing the wound, placed the first aid kit on a table, and moved onto the couch. She leaned towards him. Reaching out she tentatively stroked the hair exposed on the back of his head. Reaching for the comfort his touch could provide.

He could not help himself, he leaned into her hand with his head. Her touch was so tender he wanted more. He felt himself falling. Not literally. His heart was gone. He knew it had been hers for a long time, but in this moment he realized it was not with him, for all he knew she kept it in her back pocket. He leaned further towards her. He laid his head down on to her lap. And without a word she pressed play on the remote.

She ran her hand through her hair. She found his ears and tenderly stroked. She barely paid attention to the movie at all, she was not interested in the plot at all. All she wanted was the sunshine. The golden glow hardly touched her anymore, the darkness of the Shadow Gallery was beginning to seep into her soul but if it was the only way V would open to her she would try her best to be there. She would bring him into the sun someday, but only when he was prepared. Their relationship was a dance, tentative but powerful. She was waiting for him to come closer, to be ready.

He felt himself drift under her fingers' careful caresses. They warmed him to the depths of his soul. He could feel his mind and heart meld for once, he was content to be there, this was happiness. He dreamt of many things. The movie had moved his subconscious into the sun. He and Evey were on the flats, in the cottage surrounded by roses. The held hands in the sun as they walked and passed meaningful looks as they gardened. He caught a glimpse of his face in the glass panels of the window. He did not wear the mask. But he was also not a monster. He drifted back into the waking world, someday he would experience that with her, that golden light was a paradise. He nuzzled her leg. He realized that her hands had stopped moving. She seemed to have dozed off as well, a while ago from the looks of it as the DVD was back to the menu. He sat up careful not to wake her. He had a plan.