Psychopath (EDITING)

22

"How you feeling baby?" Stephan asks, still keeping a secure grip on me, just in case I try and slip away from him again. His body is still dangerous close to mine, his scent rubbing against mine. It wasn't until now that I notice the different designs on his huge detailed tattoo running all the way down his right arm. It seems like a huge collection of different pictures, designs, and words, but the one that stands out the most to me was the letters V ~ XVI ~ MMVI running across his forearm. It seemed to be the only thing that wasn't surrounded by all of the other tattoos he had running down his arm. It seemed alone. And different. 

Snapping out of my transfixion of his arm full of tattoos, I place my hands on his chest, hoping that my touch could distract him from my interest in his arm. The thought of anything pissing him off is making me super paranoid about everything that I do around him. Those roman numerals still intrigue me, but that is not my biggest concern right now. Stephan is looking at me entertained, his eyes swimming from my hands, to my arms, my eyes, and slowly float down to my lips. Time seemed to stand still, the fear slowly rising in my stomach. I knew that this was all to gain his trust and get out, but he is so unpredictable, I don't know what he might do. Out of the blue, Stephan growls out of frustration, and lets go of me quickly. 

Confused by his sudden shift in emotion, I move a couple steps back away from him, giving us plenty of room, and for me to be able to actually breathe. His scent is so addicting and I always feel myself lose control and my body go numb every time I get near it.  

But, something's up with Stephan. He's looking at me, but it's through me. His eyes may be directed at me, but he's seems to be lost somewhere else. His face is completely blank, but he seems to be deeply frustrated. Like he's battling something on the inside. I couldn't help myself from feeling a small tinge of curiosity and... concern. It's fucked up, but this guy's life, who he is, I kind of finding it interesting. Well, not interesting, that's a bad word to describe it... more like

Engrossed.

It's fucked up. But, I still feel it, even though I don't want to. There's something in those eyes, something deep that he hides, that he doesn't want to feel. Something he is afraid of. And I want to know what it is. Call me snoopy and intrusive, but I find myself seeing emotions that I can sympathize with. Something familiar. Something broken.

Breaking the prolonged silence, Stephan violently shook his head, and started to breathe deeply and fast. His body seemed to panic, almost inhumanly. He kind of stumbled over to the desk behind him, and braced himself with both hands. 

In. Out.

He slowly was able to steady his breath. Without even noticing, I was right next to him, a hand on his back rubbing very small circles. I'm not sure what just happened to him and what he is thinking, but something is wrong. This isn't like him.

"S-Stephan, are you okay?" I stutter, not quite knowing what to say to him in this situation. I don't know if my presence will make it worse or not, but something is keeping me next to him. I know I shouldn't give a shit, I know. But— Fuck, this isn't what I was expecting at all.

A couple minutes pass, Stephan carefully lets go of his vice grip on the desk. Briskly straightening his posture, my hand fell off of his back. Sensing something, I gave him a bit of space, but not as far as last time. Looking at me, his eyes shifted colour to a dark, endless black, darker than his usually eye colour.

"Don't." Stephan tonelessly said. 

"Sarah, don't fucking pretend to give a shit." Stephan said. He probably intended for his words to hurt me and shit, but he couldn't hide his feelings in his voice. He voice broke, and seemed surprisingly— small. Before I could say anything, the wall went back up.

"Let's go. Don't fight me and fucking listen to me for once." 

And with that, Stephan left the room without saying another word, me cautiously following behind.