Chapter Text
"Don't touch me. Don't. DON'T. I swear, I swear I'll-"
He recedes and flinches back as my fingers search for his face. So unused to touch, responding in such an exaggerated manner. I let my hand drop and the relief in his eyes is tangible.
He shivers when I disregarded his will, when my nails scratch, instead, softly at the inside of his wrists. We've played this game once before If I remember it. The first time I broke his trust surprised him so. As if he had no notion of deception, or treachery, or lies. He had been so incredulous. So lost for what to do. Lost on how to react when I went back on my word and kept that ugly flitting thing out of his reach.
A little trill of shock hits my ears. I know what being touched does to him. His dead heart beats oh so fast. His mouth twitches, working to form words, eyes blinking rapidly.
Hush.
And how the fear creeps in, marching from his skin, right through the core of me and into my brain, almost making me drunk.
He hums in terror, straining away, everything rotten in me quickly leeching what little bravery he still has left. I send the dark to slither in his ears, stirring his mind askew with all the horrors I intend for him. If only he hadn’t rejected me.
He stills and then begins to shake. His tremors grow in size, rattling his bones like a bag of skinny dead things shaken hard. Charming. But all things must end, and my time is, for now, expended.
He sinks to the floor when I release him, his knees smashing to meet the stone with a crack. He is dazed, numbed by what must be sensory overload. He whispers something, a breathless string of nonsense and I lean towards the sound, his voice drawing me in, just like the rest of him.
He reawakens to my presence. His face crumples before he throws himself away from me, one arm extended to ward me off, the other moving in a constant wiping motion over his mouth. He swipes at his hair and clothes, as if he still feels a phantom hand on him.
I chuckle and the sound seems to wound him. His eyes are huge, his fingers twitching. I step forward, forcing shadows in around him. Just to draw a reaction, just to see. He jerks and sputters out a high cry of, "No, please!"
No matter how long it has been, he’s still such a young thing after all – so precious, but so lonely, and so afraid. I almost pity him. I’m a bad loser, and this chance meeting caught me at a particularly bitter time.
I sigh. I must be going. I kick the long, gnarled length of wood towards him. It clatters, jumps, and rolls erratically until it gently bumps the tips of his bare toes. His head jerks up and he lunges for it, clutching it close to his chest with boney hands turned white and purple now, because of me.
I turn away and the slipping and sliding scrabbles of his lanky limbs are all I hear as he trips over himself to flee. I follow the hitches in his erratic breath up and down my labyrinth of stairs and bridges until I finally let him locate the Easter tunnel. His slapping, clumsy footsteps echo in my bones at a frantic pace before suddenly vanishing as he disappears beyond my reach.
Goodbye, dear friend. Think of me won't you?