The silence in the car was thick. I could barely breathe, my pulse an erratic beat in my ears. He hadn't said a word since we left the cabin. I was still barefoot, knees scraped, hair a tangled mess. And he looked... calm. Too calm.
"Are you scared of me now?" he asked finally, his voice smooth like silk over blades.
I didn't respond.
"I can feel it, you know," he continued. "The way your body tenses every time I move. Like prey sensing the predator."
I pressed my lips together. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Suddenly, he turned the steering wheel hard, pulling the car onto a dirt path. Trees engulfed us, the forest swallowing the light.
"W-where are we—" I began, but he slammed the brakes. The car jolted. He turned to me slowly, his fingers brushing my cheek like a lover.
"Let me show you something," he whispered.
He stepped out and opened my door. I hesitated, then followed. The cold soil stung my bare feet.
We walked until the trees opened into a clearing. There, beneath the pale moonlight, was a small pond. It was... beautiful. Peaceful. So unlike him.
"I come here when the voices are too loud," he murmured. "When I need to bury the screams."
I turned to him.
"You've killed before," I said. Not a question. A statement.
He smiled. "Of course I have."
I shivered.
"But you..." he took a step closer, "You make the noise stop without blood."
My breath caught.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?" I said. "Trying to make me feel special... like I'm different."
"You are different." His voice hardened. "You don't cry when I hurt you. You glare. You fight. And I want to ruin that pride."
Before I could move, he grabbed my wrist and pressed the gun into my palm.
"Shoot me," he challenged, his eyes wild. "Right now. End it. Or accept that you're mine."
I stared at the cold metal, then at him.
And I dropped it.
His grin was feral. "Good girl."
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