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I debate for a few seconds if she should come in, not because I don't want her in here, but because this means she will have further insight into me, while I can't seem to gain more into her.
“Yes,” I sigh and shake my head.
She opens the door and as her eyes move around the room from left to right, they're getting wider and wider, and by the time they find me she's trying hard to pretend she's thinking of anything else. The monster has talent. Funny... I know.
“You... you did all this?” She closes the door behind her without looking back, her eyes stuck to mine.
I nod and she steps further in, walking towards me, her gaze is everywhere but, inspecting the space.
“Here, I made some tea. Thought you could use some.” I notice she's carrying a steaming cup, and I grab it from her before she drops it since she's looking anywhere but in my direction.
As she turns her head to the left, I hear a small gasp and follow a shiver running through her body before she goes completely still, a sharp breath caught in her lungs. I follow her gaze and find the object of her surprise—the banshee. The same one tattooed on my back, only this one is carved into a large piece of oak and is hung on the wall.
“Her...”
That's all she says. She's so still, like someone pressed pause on a remote control, but her eyes... fuck, her damn eyes are filled with emotions I can't understand. Her mouth is slightly open and I swear to the gods she looks like she's about to burst as I watch another shiver slightly shaking her body.
She turns to me and I see them in her eyes—the demons, they're all watching me, and I feel caught off guard.
What the fuck?!
I look at the carving—the lips—I turn to Suki, my brows furrow. I look at the carving again—the high cheeks, upturned nose, square jaw—I turn to Suki.No…
I look into her eyes again and the demons are still there, in the same position, unmoving. A shiver runs down my spine, and I can't understand what's happening.
“Who is she?” she finally speaks.
“The banshee...”
She breaks eye contact, turns back to the carving and suddenly I feel like I can breathe again. I turn as well.
“She's part of you.” As she says that I know she doesn’t mean that she’s tattooed on my skin.
“Always...”
“But the banshee doesn't scream out of fear.” She turns and her eye contact bores into me with an intensity that gives me goosebumps.
“Neither do you. Not anymore.” Her eyes go wide.
“I thought... I thought it is fear you crave. I thought that's why...” she mumbles.
“I can taste fear, Suki. I can taste it in the sound waves and it's fuel for my fucked up soul.Yourfear though... it's layered. You're not scared of me, Suki...”
“Am I not?” Her gaze stills—anger, fear, confusion, all assaulting her at once.
“You wish you were...” She's heaving, mainly because she knows I'm right.
Sighing, she rubs her eyes with her palms, before running her hands through her thick hair.
“When did they start? These... cravings.”
I can't help myself, and I laugh. By the look in her eyes, I can tell she doesn't know whether she wants to be annoyed or just plain confused at my reaction.
“These... cravings... when I was about fifteen.” I tell her the story about the woman in the park as she finds a seat on a wooden bench and listens to it. Her body fidgets as the story evolves. I can tell some parts make her uncomfortable and some make her flush.Interesting.
“So you've been... doing this since then?”
“No... I was around twenty-two when I finally understood the games I needed to play.”
