I woke up next to you again.

Her skin buzzed with the warmth of waking up from a deep sleep. She looked up to the same ceiling and the same eyes. They were constant yet unfamiliar. Her head eases back when she felt his fingers in her hair, playing thoughtfully with the strands. He had an odd fascination with her hair.

“Your awake.” He said, like always.

“So are you.” She said, like always.

He smiled innocently, his fingers combing down her long hair. His fingers burned trails down her skin. He cupped her cheek and traced the half-moons looming under her eyes, the same color as her knees.

“Tell me about your father again,” He said, making himself comfortable.

Her eyes went absent as they gazed back at the ceiling. Empty, and as flat as a mirror. Her fingers relax around the covers. She would normally be livid, but to her, he’s a beacon of suffocating calmness. Hell, even his smell made her entire body relax.

The back of her ears burns while she talks. About the lessons, the fist slamming on the table, her Edith cowering away, and her six years greener, driving a kitchen knife into her father’s back. How happy it made her feel, the satisfaction she felt when she felt the metal cut through flesh and hit bone. Her hands shook, but she felt no anger, just hollow.

Her body throbbed with a soft soreness that made her feel whole and watched over. Her skin was saturated with warmth, but her chest felt as cold and empty as a crypt. She rubbed her thighs together and gauged him with her empty stare.

“This doesn’t feel good anymore.” She said, her voice raw and scratchy.

His hand retracted. He was silent for a moment and scanned her up and down with inquisitive eyes. His mouth was a straight line of nothingness. The light returned to her eyes, slowly and groggily. She felt her nerves shake off the feeling of static and reboot. She stretched her drowsy limbs and blinked.

The corner of his mouth perked up. A patronizing gleam dawns in his eyes. Unhurried, he ran his fingertips over her collarbone, dipping into the hollow of her neck, and settling into a comfortable grip around her throat. The edge of his thumbnail dragged a line up the underside of her jaw to the bottom of her chin. She exhaled a shaky sigh as her head tilted back into the pillow. Her whole body let out an involuntary shiver of terror and curiosity. The feeling in her limbs drained away in an instant and her eyes were lifeless once more. He leaned in and then his face was hanging over hers.

“Keep going”

Her chest throbbed with an ache she couldn’t describe. A cocktail fo remorse and relief. Did he ever feel like this? She lifted her arm, her muscles weighing her down like lead, and shakily brushed her fingers over his hairline. His smirk widened into a grin, thoroughly entertained with a gleam of wonder dawning his eyes. Her vision went heady as all feeling was zapped from the limb. It dropped to her chest with a dull thud again the blanket. He moved in closer, his lips grazing her ear.

“Tell me everything. I want every morsel.”

And she did. Of that part of her life anyway. She had many stories to tell him. But he had his fill, he said, and he was content. He didn’t want to wear her out too early. He liked this one.

Swallowing, she stood on shaky legs and dressed her nude body as quickly as she could. He made himself comfortable once more, crossing his arms behind his head. The inside of her throat felt like raw wood from screaming and the corners of her eyes grew hot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He said curtly, devoid of emotion. There was no patronizing edge to his voice. It was what was expected. They still cut at her all the same. It was so final. She tried to sleep when she stumbled home that night, it just made her feel more tired.

A hard bundle of desperation settled in her stomach that she couldn’t digest. Couldn’t begin to unpack. Her mind was too foggy, to used. She was beginning to like this feeling, and it terrified her. This was something that she could get used to, and it terrified her.

Like always, like always.

She was back again and again. Feeling more like a shell each time. She was becoming a hollow, disdained woman. All that mattered was that feeling. She almost called him, her head was pounding and she needed to feel blank again. She needed him.

What?

She threw the phone against the wall and crumpled. She didn’t need anybody. She didn’t rely on anybody. That would destroy her. Was that what he wanted?

Him. Him. Him.

He was charismatic, made this blanket of stillness envelop the room when they first met. His aura was soft but sharp, digging into her. She thought of his face. The shape of his jaw, his mouth, his nose. But not the color of his eyes. Her memory distorted and fizzled out when it came to his eyes. But she could still feel the trails they burned across her skin, the cradle of her hips. Her whole body shook, and she collapsed. She needed a cigarette.

They met several more times. Fingers in the hair. The slapping of skin. Hotness in the corner of her eyes. Nothing and nothingness. Sweet emptiness that she swallowed like honey. She’s never seen him anywhere again except in that room.

Except for one night. She saw his silhouette and her stomach dropped into her ankles. Her knees shook and the knots in her stomach turned into nooses. She followed him.

Her skin began to burn that familiar burn. Her nose bled.

She kept going.

Her head throbbed. Her fingers twitched.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and kept pushing.

She stumbled, her vision blurred. She was so close now. She wanted more than the emptiness now. She wanted his eyes.

She. kept. Going.

She leered at his back. It seemed like it was just the two of them. She felt something old and glazed over in her chest crack. TV static whispered through her ears.

He stopped and turned.

The surrounding sound ceased, and everything seemed to slow. Except for her heartbeat reverberating in her ears. Her blood pumping in her veins.

The eyes that met hers had a prideful glint in them. He gave her his devilish smile. His eyes were pure black and piercing. They stared right through her. Then, in a puff of inky smoke, he was gone.

All the breath in her lungs left her in one long sob. She sank against the ally wall and cradled her head in her hands.

The afterglow she experienced at that moment was like nothing before. He fed on all her poison, and now she's left with two halves of herself.

She never woke up to him again.