Page 24 of Welcome Home
A Show of Solidarity
Crazy - Gnarls Barkley
Oliver
The normally quiet street is bustling with activity. Humans and their constant need for community has soured Cora’s mood. Her long hair is now dyed its natural black, skillfully arranged in waterfall waves down her back. The short, backless sundress has me clenching and unclenching my fists in an attempt not to touch her. My eyes reluctantly falling back into the bathroom where I’m supposed to be getting ready, following his hellish grooming routine. All this product makes my nostrils flare, the offensive chemicals he based himself with far stronger to my hypersensitive nose than others. I can feel it sponging into his skin, bleeding through to the one that lays underneath.
Cora lets out a heavy sigh and the smile that had grown on my face is wiped away, not even forced back into place by the now badly stained marble countertops. She’d left late last night going to the closest twenty-four-hour drugstore, and of course I joined her. She didn’t complain and I dared to hope me fucking her with my tongue set off a change between us. She’d made a beeline for the rows of hair dye. I didn’t ask. I didn’t need to in order to know this was something substantial to my love. That she was taking some part of her back. I watched in awe of her as she applied the chemical to her hair, being sure to stain every pristine surface she could. Muddying the trendy white and neutral tones with black. The smell was horrid, but my smile was huge. After hundreds of years cohabiting with humans and their strong smells, you get used to it. She could bathe herself in gasoline and I would worship her skin all the same.
“Are you ready? It looks like the party is starting.” She breathes out, her pale eyes turning on me. Her back cast in the moonlight and the glowing string lights from the street below robs me of any conscious thought.
“You’re beautiful, my love.”
A tinge of pink dusts her high cheekbones, her freckles on full display not hidden behind the ever-present makeup from his memories. Her wide, round eyes he always thought were too big for her face are unlined, unaltered.
The things I would do for this woman…
“I told myself I’d never do this again, that I didn’t have to anymore.” Her arms wrap around herself, subconsciously protecting everything vital. I’m not sure if it’s her wounds from the past opening or her mind’s unconscious response to me. I do know that this time, like yesterday when I approach her, she doesn’t look at me with fear and disgust. Apprehension definitely, longing yes…
I can work with that.
Her silky strands of hair feel like heaven between my fingertips as I run my hand through it, cupping the back of her neck. “I’m sorry you have to, but we-“
“Need to keep up appearances. I’m used to it, it’s fine… Oliver.”
My jaw clenches before I school my face. “You haven’t used my true name since the other night.”
She just nods, avoiding my eyes. “It’s easier that way… not to slip up.”
I stare down at her until her eyes have nowhere else to go. Until they are forced back to me. Everything in me screaming to toss her on the bed, spear her with my cock and pump into her until she’s soaked through with my scent, not the chemical ones from him. Mine.
Until she’s forced to use my name.
Mine.
A growl rises from my throat before I can stop it. My heart spudders and thuds painfully as she recoils so quickly a strand of her hair is pulled free, getting caught on my fingers. “Cora-“
“I’ll be waiting downstairs. Please hurry, Oliver was never late.”
I don’t stop her, I can’t because now my heart is racing. My sweet, sweet Cora has no idea what she’s given me. I’d been careful not to notice them. Ignoring her hairbrush. I stare at the strand of her hair in my fingers, knowing how little effort it would take…
How I could get her, keep her… how easy it would be to mimic her. Her death could be so painless, I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer. By the time I sampled her flesh, I’d already be so close to her. Rewriting myself for her. Into her. She’d never be able to recoil, to escape me. I swallow hard, pulling the hair closer to my face, inhaling her sweet scent. My lips parting as I pull the strand across my lips. I want her to love me the right way; I wanted todo thisthe right way… but I disgust her even wearinghim. She would never accept me as I am. My eyes alone freaked her out badly enough that she trembled in my arms. Tears budding in those beautiful eyes.
The strand falls from my fingers, and I watch it until it hits the carpet of the bedroom. My neck cracks as I roll it. I’ve never had an issue controlling my appearance before. Not since my very first skin. I’ve also never been in love before. My first was so many years ago, I barely remember anything but the pain. Father showing up to clear out the humans who had seen too much.
By the time I reach the landing, she’s waiting by the door. Despite her newly reclaimed black hair, she’s slipping so easily into an old skin of her own. Wearing his version of herself makes rage bubble in my chest, white hot and festering. I want the Cora from the other night, her clever teasing and wide eyes pinched in pleasure. I’ll never have that here, how could I? This house, the hospital white walls and perfectly curated shades of beige and gray represent every wound he inflicted on her. Years of pain and abuse. I’m doing nothing but forcing her to continue to endure it.
I clench my jaw as I take her in. Her sweet eyes empty and spine ramrod straight as I open the door, leaving my hand on the small of her back as I lead her out into the swell of the Lake Haven Estates’ annual block party. With each step, I fight harder to control myself, to keep the monster locked behind the pretty cage of the man. We have a plan, blend, wait until everything smooths over, the heat dies out and then leave. It’s a long-term plan, a safe one. One where we get out. Together. She thinks we’ll go our separate ways after that, but of course I would never allow it. I watch her carefully come to life, more the animated corpse than even I am.
“Oh, Cora, we’re so happy you came! My god Oliver!” Neighbors gather around us, her sweet smile and kind words delivered flawlessly, mine too. Following her lead, together but detached the way he was. The taste of venom is bitter as it claws up my throat, poisoning my tongue. That venom boils over imploding inside me as my eyes land on Detective Rappert, her dark watchful eyes focused on me as she pretends to be interested in the spiked punch in her hand. The need to shed rises in me, to rip into everything causing my love discomfort.
Most of all, me. I’m the discomfort. Perhaps the biggest source.
That’s the exact point, the precise moment, thesafelong-term plan changes.
Detective Rappert’s eyes widen, a light sheen of sweat growing on her chest. Something inside her seeing past the friendly smile. Seeing past the man’s skin I wear.
“Oliver she’s-“
