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I mentally shake myself and splash some water on my face before going back into the living room.
She’s sitting on the sofa, wrapped in the fur blanket she was so emotionally attached to the first night she came here, and I can’t help but admire how far she’s come in a short amount of time. In the last few days, she’s been on an emotional rollercoaster, mending her broken mind and soul and even though the effects of her captivity can still be seen, her strength is certainly returning to her. I don’t know who she was before Adrien, but I can see who she’s becoming.
The little siren is evolving, but she’s holding back on me, on herself.
Just as her mother before me, I see the demons in her eyes. I saw the sparkle when she told me about the day she killed her mother. I saw the sparkle when she licked my bleeding bullet wound. I saw the sparkle when she stopped crying and promised herself vengeance.
There’s something buried deep inside her soul, something she wrapped up tightly long ago, and I can fucking taste it sometimes. I need to see it, I need to feel it, I need to pry her open and break her apart until it comes out. I need her to accept it, because it’s part of her, no matter how disturbing, no matter how painful, I need her to be herself.
Is it selfish of me?
Maybe it is, but I don’t give a fuck. I need to see who she really is and then show it to her, because… maybe then… there will be a chance.
Maybe then she will realize where she belongs…
I walk towards the sofa, and I see a slight but sudden change in her stance. There’s so much hidden in that pretty little head of hers and sometimes I wish I could just crack her open to find out what it is, before I put her back together.
Sometimes I truly feel like a psychopath.
“Tell me, what do you need Connor to bring you?” I take out my phone to write a note.
“Umm… I don’t know… What kind of things can I ask for?” She genuinely looks concerned that she could be too much trouble.
“Anything. Clothes, toiletries, whatever you need.”
“I don’t understand… how is he bringing everything? I thought no one can come up here?”
“Helicopter. He used to be a pilot in the Army and he’s pretty good at flying one. He was coming anyway, bringing me a couple of parts for my broken snowmobile.”
I see her eyes flicker, and I wonder if she already thought of leaving this mountain on that snowmobile. Considering her fleeting disappointment that I could have missed if I blinked, I’m sure she did.
“Oh, okay. That’s good. Could I…?” She reaches towards my phone, and I hand it to her. I realize that she hasn’t held a phone in months as I watch her slow movements over the touchscreen.
I busy myself in the kitchen, making some tea for us while she makes that list. As I wait for the tea to brew, I lean against the counter, watching her as she finds her way around a phone again. There’s some signal here, so if she would try to call or text someone, she would be able to. This right here is an interesting test.
Will she attempt to contact someone? She wouldn’t be able to hide it from me though. Who would she contact anyway? I’m not sure if it’s wishful thinking on my part, but I don’t think she’ll make any attempt to contact anyone. I can see a conflict building in those beautiful eyes of hers. Every time we talk, something grows in there.
When I bring the tea, she hands me back the phone, but I don’t look at the list, I just put the phone in my pocket. She looks surprised like maybe she thought I would check it first. I smile to myself because I like this, keeping her on her toes, confusing the hell out of her. The problem is that I seem to be confusing myself as well.
She does something to me, something that I’m only just starting to understand, but to actually accept it… that’s the tricky part. I’ve never been this person, the one I am with her. I’ve put on facades, yes. I’ve shown people the person they needed me to be—in business, with my parents, during school or university. I learned. Yet with Suki… with her there’s no I.
The monster is out and it purrs at the thought of her.
She compares her captivity here with the one she faced with Adrien, and I feel insulted. Yes, logic dictates that she is not wrong to do so, but she must see that things are different. There is no way she can’t see that I am different. Even the man she met in the woods all those days ago is a different version of myself. She’s the reason why.
Unless something is stopping her from seeing me… a different version of herself.
She’s running away from her own demons, and I’m holding her captive so I can pry her fucking soul open and make her face it. Maybe she anticipates this. Maybe this makes her want to run faster.
I’m sitting on the sofa, on the opposite end of where she sits. I get comfortable, left arm on the backrest, the tea in my right hand, and I can’t help but study her. Her beautiful eyes, tilted upwards in the outer corners, her small upturned nose, that bone structure that reminds me of the soft women from black and white movies.
And she studies me right back. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me. I feel slightly uncomfortable. I’ve been watched my whole life, mostly because I was the quiet one, often mistaken for broody by girls, then women. I’m used to people watching me… but Suki… Suki’s eyes bore into me, their scrutiny runs deep under my skin and sometimes I feel like she communicates with my demons when her eyes fixate on mine. Almost like she can see beyond it all.
Maybe she can.
“So tell me,” I need to break this, the quiet assessment, “what do you do for work?”
She takes a few seconds to reply, seemingly taken aback by the question. But I need to see beyond the beauty, beyond the siren song, I need to see her.
