Me & Her

Her

"Hello Again".

It doesn't seem right to be carried in his arms without making conversation.

For some reason, Mr. Dark hasn't dropped me yet and he's gazing at me in a way that is nothing short of strange. I mean, he is strange. But the way he's looking at me is stranger.

His hands – freezing cold – ease across my back. He lifts me onto the couch – I must have fallen off.

The memories are always overwhelming, but this time, they consumed me.

It's like I'm losing a battle and one day I'll fade away.

Mr. Dark positions me carefully on the pillows, sitting down at the other end. He places his hands in his lap and decides to stare at the floor. Intensely. Okay, this is starting to get weird.

I rub my face, chasing the darkness into an untouchable corner of our mind. A shiver escapes me. I hope Alice didn't have to see that. She has enough to deal with.

Mr. Dark rounds on me, all far-searching gaze and tightening muscles. I really don't have the energy to care right now. My head is literally going to implode.

"Doctor Light wrote me a note. He told me what you said. You spoke up for me," he says. "Why? I want to know". I lean back, wobbling slightly with the effort.

Out of everything I was expecting him to say, that wasn't it. Stretching my neck, I wait for the satisfying click. Relax.

"Because no one spoke up for me. I told you," I add.

"I know how it feels to be trapped".

"Well, thank you". Groaning, I'm starting to wish he hadn't mentioned it. What I am – a Good Samaritan now? Spokesperson for experimental murderers of the week? Apparently yes.

Mr. Dark shuffles closer, an odd atmosphere engulfing us. Despite the thousands of questions burning a hole through my skull, I lose myself in the pocket of cream cushions and dark green pupils.

"Thank you. Really, thank you. You spoke up for me. You tried to make him understand".

"Don't hurt yourself". The way he's talking makes me think he's going to grovel. He jumps, frowning.

"Why would I hurt myself?"

"Never mind".

"There are no weapons in this room. I canvased it for threats when you fell unconscious".

"Never mind!" I sigh, falling into the couch in the hope it will swallow me up. Mr. Dark taps his foot on the floor, shoulders slumping like a regular person coming home from a hard slug at the office. Regular person. Yeah, that's him alright. Average Joe.

"Your memories. They are not good ones," he observes.

"Thanks Doc', I kind of knew that," I snap, righting myself. He looks away and the flames of guilt kindle in my stomach. He's new to this, just like me. New to everything. He hasn't even watched TV for God's sake. I shouldn't expect him to be an Average Joe straight off the bat.

"I am not like your Doctor," he mutters after a few minutes silence. Lowering my head, I move closer. Here I am, judging him by who he isn't, when I loathe Doctor Light for doing just the same to me.

"I know". He's different. He is the one person I can actually talk to in this house. The one person I don't have to hide from. The one person who matters in the same way air and water matters to humankind. I don't know if it's just my hormones talking or whether being in a coma for three years has made me desperate, but I want to feel. He makes me feel. When he tried to kill me, I felt alive. When he talks to me, I feel like a person. He treats me like a person, like my body and my mind are my own.

Dragging my feet over to his, I begin to tap out a rhythm, adding my own flairs. The ghost of a smile floats onto his lips, but it doesn't stay there long. Suddenly, the tapping stops.

"I want them dead. The Janus Foundation. I want them dead," he says. My arm falls over his.

"Me too". Startled, he turns, falling directly into my eyes. The face of a potential soldier, a definite murderer, a part-time Doctor. How am I any different? Doctor Steele might have been dead the moment I gave him that dose of Barbiturates.

Mr. Dark's hand inches over mine and lifts it upwards, inspecting the process of human touch. Fingers, callouses – they stroke my own. I'd be lying if I didn't feel the need to rush upstairs and find my Mp3 Player. If I had my guess, I'd say he hasn't heard music before either and that in itself is a sin.

Mr. Dark finishes staring at our hands and moves onto my face. He examines me at first – like a commander assessing a battleplan – but it melts to fascination in a matter of seconds. I bet Dr. Light has never dated before. That would explain Mr. Dark's utter confusion. Normally, I don't give in to this sort of thing. Candlelight dinners can go up in flames for all I care. But, today, with the sun casting a hypnotic glow onto the floor, this feels right. A connection, a touch. The ability to reach out to someone other than another portion of my own mind almost renders me mute.

I breathe out, slowly. Slower than ever before. Mr. Dark raises his hand, places it against my cheek. Helping him along, I inch toward his face, his lips, where static flies between us. Being what I am, who I am, connections are hard to come by. My only connection – Alice – can be so intimate it suffocates me. This, here, this is the opposite of suffocating. It's freeing. His face, his touch is freedom.

The whole trying to kill each other thing must be part of the process. First meet-cute, murder attempt and now a kiss. It's perfect.

When he makes no further move, I roll my eyes. Mum will be back soon, and I am not going to leave myself hanging. A surge of power takes hold, crashing my lips into his. The kiss is extremely awkward – puckering lips sloshing over each other to be on top. Probably best to break it off. That's what I tell myself, but by the time I pull back, a whole minute has passed. He mustn't know how to kiss. I close my eyes.

Mr. Dark is staring at me with a look of total confusion and perhaps a little fear. Good. That's what happens when you try to kill me – twice.

Sensing he's going to try to kiss me again – or worse, I try to kiss him again - I lunge up from the couch. Mum's car has just pounded into the driveway.

Besides, I don't want to turn around. Don't want to look at him.

If I do, I'll have to see him change back into the man who thinks I'm a monster.