Perfect Flaws

31. Such a Thin Line

(TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains scenes that may be disturbing to you, and cause discomfort, proceed with caution)

Elijah

I've become quite familiar with this look.

With these eyes.

I see the hatred in my victims eyes, the fear. Every time I kill someone, I see the exact moment it dawns on them, and the realization hits them.

Their eyes gleam with betrayal, because in some way they can't believe I'd actually do it, even though I'm a stranger.

They could have no idea who I am, and yet, they somehow trust that because I'm human, because I'm someone like them, I wouldn't do it, I wouldn't take the life out of them.

I find fascination in the way their heartbeat stops under my touch, the way their body stills, and the blood under their skin dims, leaving them cold to the touch.

In most situations, it excites me. It gives me adrenaline I've never felt before, because I feel something. For once in my miserable life, I actually feel something other than numbing pain.

But this time, it's different.

It doesn't excite me, it doesn't give me adrenaline, instead it terrifies me, drowns me in guilt.

Because this time, it's her.

This time, I've betrayed her, I've instilled fear in her.

Now, it's her eyes staring at mine in horror and bewilderment.

It's her who can't believe I'd do something like this.

I want nothing more than to tell her I'm sorry. That I didn't know it was her I was hurting, that it was her I chased after, and drove a blade into.

She once asked me if I felt guilt, and I told her I used to, because guilt hasn't been with me in so many years. But now? I'm suffocated in it.

I look at her, seeing her trapped in leather straps, while she's drenched in blood, sweat trickling down her forehead, while she stares at me with complete hatred.

She stares at me like the world has betrayed her once again, like she has more of a reason to snap.

"You," she hisses, bitterness seething from her lips.

"Me," I whisper.

"It was you, you did this to me," her brows knit.

I nod, unable to speak.

She leans her head back, closing her eyes. I watch as she inhales sharply and exhales, letting herself relax into the metal.

And then she laughs, genuinely laughs. Her body shakes as each sound escapes her, uncontrollably.

"Wonderful," she whispers to herself.

I look in the corners of the room, seeing a camera to the left.

I sigh, my eyes training on her, as she stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. "Rhea," I whisper as gently as I can. Her head shakes side to side, "No."

She lifts her head, matching my gaze, "No, you don't get to call me that, you don't get to talk to me like that, like you care," she pauses, inhaling shakily, exhaling as she speaks, "You're here to torture me right? Scare me shitless, make me regret stepping foot on this land? Then just do it, but don't talk to me like you know me."

My fingers dig into my palms, my throat strains as I hold myself together. I nod.

She gazes at me in disgust, shaking her head as she directs her gaze elsewhere.