Chapter 6 – Oliver
CURIOSITY OF THE DAMNED AND DEADLY
OLIVER
Vale is beautiful. So innocent, with tears shining in her eyes like she’s lost something.
She thinks she’s lost me. She thinks the way I touched another woman means something more than it actually does.
It was just a means to an end, but I can’t explain that to her.
This girl is different, though I’m not sure why.
Yet. It’s not just her innocence or her youth.
There’s this gentle, coaxing tug, a unique pull urging me toward her.
In my long life, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced with a mortal. I’ve never craved another like this.
I hunger for her.
Every bit of this girl calls to me. I watch her whenever I feel her close by.
Sometimes she sees me, but most of the time she doesn’t.
I’m an obsessed stalker, and so is she. The worst part is I can’t do anything about it.
I can’t tempt her the way I’ve done countless others.
This girl is going to survive me. She’ll change me forever.
I feel it in my gut, but I can’t seem to stay away.
The temptation is too great, too powerful.
She’s standing there looking at me with ruddy, tearstained cheeks.
She looks like a lost little girl whose heart has been broken for the first time.
I wish I understood that pain. I want to understand how she can feel so much in this moment.
The fact that I care to understand her at all is unusual.
What’s more surprising is that I wish I could take all the pain away, make her smile.
Oh God, how I want to make her smile right now. I’ve watched her from the shadows and when she smiles, she lights up the whole damn room. Her joy is infectious. She becomes a different creature entirely.
She asked me why I came, and it was the sound of her tears that drew me.
I’ve hurt her somehow, though I don’t know how.
I don’t do feelings, and I usually don’t care if I hurt people, yet I very much care about her feelings right now.
I want to erase her pain. I’ll call it what it is, curiosity.
We’ve all heard the saying, and I’m afraid I’m the dead cat in that scenario.
“I want to know why you’ve been crying.”
I stand there, waiting for her to talk. She rubs her eyes, wiping the tears away. There’s fire inside her. Her heart rattles in her chest, a fast pitter-patter of a beat, but her face looks so sad, so lost. She’s an enigma. I wish she’d let that fire free. I want to see her burn for me.
“It’s none of your business. Don’t you get that? I don’t have to tell you anything,” she says, defensive, trying to hide.
The way she stares at me, her anger burning bright, it’s sexy. Her anger is even sexier than her smile because it doesn’t appear as often. It’s there, smoldering under the surface, waiting for the moment to escape and burn everyone around her.
As I’ve stalked her from the shadows, I’ve seen who she is.
She has such a sad acquiescence about her, accepting things she doesn’t want, doing things she doesn’t want to do without so much as a whisper of protest. But that fire inside her burns so hot, I can’t understand why she just goes along with it all.
Who broke her?
I would kill them all if it would make her smile.
She straightens her spine as though she’s readying herself for a fight.
That’s when I notice her clothes are different, she’s changed.
She’d stood on the platform outside wearing tiny shorts and a tight tank top that left little to the imagination.
I mean nothing, I saw all of her. I swear it's what made me come. Now she’s wearing a long sleeve NASA T-shirt and fuzzy fleece pants as if it were winter. She’s hiding her body.
Vale’s been taught that desire is wrong.
I can see the guilt, the shame. She thinks it’s wrong to want to get fucked by me.
I get it, at one time I might have become a pious man.
I might have understood why she worries for her soul.
Lust is a sin to her, yet here she is, wanting me.
I want to push her further, even if I can’t have her.
I step forward and grab her chin in my fingers. “Tell me now, Vale. I want to know why you’re so sad. Maybe that’s my demand so I won’t tell Nick.”
Vale jerks her head back, out of my grasp, narrowing her gaze in anger. “You wouldn’t,” she says, venom in her tone as she grabs my wrist and pushes my hand away from her. “You’ve got just as much to lose.”
“Have I fucked you?” I ask, my tone more harsh than I meant it to be.
“No, that’s not my point and you know it,” she says so flustered, her cheeks getting hotter.
I smile like the asshole I am. “You know how I’d tell him. I’d say I left the curtains open because I hadn’t expected to meet, hmm, let’s call her Jeniffer. She looked like a Jeniffer, right?”
Her eyes go wide and it takes a miracle for me not to laugh.
“You don’t know her name?”
It’s funny how it shocks her. I love it.
I find her righteous indignation adorable.
I smile brightly. She’s definitely untried.
I bet she’s so tight. When I make her come it'll feel like her muscles are trying to rip my dick off. The thought of the dirty things I’d do to her .
. . oh man, it could be so good. I’m salivating, starving for her already.
“Why would I care what her name is? She got what she wanted, and so did I. We both went our separate ways better for the experience. I don’t lie to the people I fuck.
They know the score. All I’m saying is I could tell Nick it was an accident, expect him to have a talk with you.
The talk.” I’m trying so hard not to laugh at this entire conversation.
What the fuck am I doing here? Why was I in this girl’s bedroom? Why was I surrounded by obnoxious pink sheets and scary Victorian dolls that probably held the souls of serial killers? Why was I demanding her truth? I had no right to any of her secrets.
“I see,” she says. She looks worried now. She’s afraid of what’ll happen if Nick finds out what she did.
“All I’m asking is why are you crying? I thought you enjoyed what you saw.
I offered for it to happen again. So why are you so sad?
Why don’t you want to see me fuck someone else?
It could be our own sexy game. You could tell me what you want to see.
You could tell me who with. I’d do it for you, sweetheart. ”
She shakes her head as if she’s fighting some kind of internal battle. I wish I could read her mind, but it’s unusually hard to catch her thoughts. Random pictures fall through my grasp like sand through a sieve before I can ever translate what I’m seeing. Mortals are usually easy to read.
Vale looks at the floor and stares at the antique rug. She’s so nervous talking about this. Over and over, she twists the bottom of her shirt in her fingers. Her anxiety is genuine. I almost feel bad as I watch her struggle, but not bad enough to stop.
“I don’t want to see you fucking someone else,” Vale blurts out. “I want you to fuck me. I want to be the reason that look is on your face. I want you to make love to me,” she explains, her honesty surprising. Most people don’t have the balls to tell their true feelings to others.
I reach for her, placing my arms around her. Her cheeks are hot against my chest. I don’t want her to feel alone. She’s young, maybe this really is all new to her. It’s okay that she feels like this; however, I need to set her straight, even if it bursts her innocent little bubble.
“I hate to break it to you, but what I did to that woman, it wasn’t making love.
It was fucking. I don’t even remember what her face looks like.
Once I saw you standing there, you were all I could focus on, all I could see.
She didn’t matter in the slightest. Why would she when you were right there? ”
She wraps her arms around me, giving in to the comfort I’m trying to offer her.
I’m surprised she touches me at all. I hold her for a moment, giving her what she needs even as some part of me wants to get away, to escape her clutches.
I don’t have a lot of experience with how to act in this situation.
I learned a long time ago not to get close to people romantically, especially mortals. They break too easily. If my ardor is strong enough to take an immortal life, then what hope would a mortal have at surviving it. No, that’s why I can’t have romantic relationships. I can’t.
“Is any of this normal?” she asks looking up at me with curiosity, her eyes still swimming with tears.
“Nothing in my life has ever been normal. What about yours? Is your life normal?” I ask as I walk her backward toward the bed, forcing the back of her legs against the mattress.
I lay her down, then kneel at her side. She jerks away, pulling the sheets up around her chin.
She’s not ready for me. She never will be. Who could be ready for a monster?
“I won’t hurt you, I promise. I want to be here with you. I can stay till you fall asleep. We can talk and you can tell me about your life.”
Why the fuck are these words coming out of my mouth?
I’m curious about her, another rare occurrence. Mortals all seem to blend in together after a while, and there’s no reason to make friends with them when you know you’ll lose them so soon.
I feel Vale’s presence next door even when I don’t see her. I know she’s right there. Her being there is like a light, drawing me into it, coaxing me forward to damn myself further. Because that’s what would happen when I killed her. But I’m unable to walk away, so I offer her more than I do most.