Masks

Chapter 8

Evey placed her hands upon his face.

In the darkness he saw stars, bright flashes of colours as the electricity of her touch coursed through him. She touched him in a way that the previous caresses and kisses had only teased at. His mind briefly revolted at having this beautiful, whole, woman touch the monster. But her gentle fingertips quieted the upheaval. He melted into her touch.

She was shocked. Unlike the intricate burn scars on his hands, there was nothing to indicate even the faintest scarring beneath her fingers, the soft skin smooth beneath her skimming fingers. Her fingers slowed, echoing the confusion of her mind through their very movement.

Through the haze of his pleasure in response to the human contact, he felt her fingers come to a stop.

"V... I-I.. I don't understand" her words were soft and slightly muffled, but he could feel them as she spoke into his chest. He collapsed under the weight of those words. How could he possibly explain the monster? It was so clear. How could she not feel the ugliness?

Her confusion was amplified, as he disentangled himself from her arms. The shaking had started as he pulled away. She could feel him shaking through the darkness, as he backed away from the bed. She could hear him collapse into a heap. She heard him gasping for air.

She slowly approached, crouching down to get closer to his small shaking frame. As she approach he tensed, going completely still, utterly silent. She paused feeling a spark of the intensity that had been there before, he reached out grasping her arms in desperation he had to make her see "What was done to me was monstrous, thus they created a monster." He could see her through the darkness his superhuman night vision showing him her surprise at being grabbed, melt into dismay at his words. He released her arms, seeing the sadness in her face.

His words made no sense to her, he had been vengeful. But he was not monstrous. His actions had been violent, but also just. Why could he not see that his actions changed the world for the better? Why could he not see he was more than an idea now. She felt him release her arms. She lunged for him, pulling him into her arms.

He stiffened even more if that was possible. But she held fast, cradling him until he relaxed into her embrace. She rocked him, crooning into him.

What was he now that he was no longer simply an idea?

She held him, gently rocking until he stilled. She whispered "V, let's get some sleep." Carefully she disentangled herself, standing slowly, she reached for him pulling him up. They made their way to the bed.

As he drifted off cradled in her arms, thoughts spun through his head. She made him believe that maybe just maybe he deserved more than the end of the tunnel. With the second chance he had been granted, he wanted to try to live.

He woke the next morning, the bed next to him empty, but she had not reconfigured the lights and his mask was still beside the bed. He reconnected the lights, making his way to the bathroom, he needed to think on this.

She had been so very tempted that morning to simply reconnect the lights, she snorted, as if disconnecting the lights could have stopped her. Amateurish V. She mused to herself as she ran through the routine she had created for her morning exercise. But she had stopped herself. Out of respect to the man she adored. Was it more than adore? It had only been a week, but she was beginning to realize what she felt. She had believed in the idea he had represented, admired it, but they were beyond that. She had become that idea in his absence, she certainly felt more self-assured, but there was something more in him. He taught her how to live free from fear, but he also made her laugh. She had cried on his behalf. She took comfort in his presence. He made her feel. He had begun to open up to her but every time was like an ebb and flow, with him still recoiling when too much emotion passed between them. She felt hurt that he would feel the need to hide anything from her at this point. She could recognize something in him that he had erased from her so many ages ago: Fear.