The Skin That Crawls From You [A Jonathan Crane Fan-fiction]

Conflicting.

I fell asleep after Jonathon went silent. The night was oddly dreamless, and as I awoke, I noticed a small bed of blankets on the floor; neatly tucked despite the lack of mattress. He must've slept there last night. A part of me thought he would've climbed in beside me, but I think he knew better than to try. Despite the conflicting feelings within my head, having a warm body beside me would've been comforting. Even if it were the man who put me through the seven layers of hell.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I sit up. My body aching with the movement.

"Goodmorning."
His low voice calls over the soft whirring of the motel's A.C.

His presence is relieving, and I despise it. I shouldn't want him in my bed, I shouldn't want him anywhere near me.

He belongs in Black Gate.

The very thought of him should sicken me. But here I am, staring at his thin form as he turns around with a cup of coffee. The room is dark, no lights turned on, but strands of morning light shimmer through the motel curtains. His usual maroon tie is open and slung over his neck, and his bare chest and stomach peak through his open button down. Due to how thin he is, his muscles are defined and smooth; and i hate myself for how long my eyes linger upon his bare skin. I hate myself for squinting in the dim light to see him better. I hate the way he makes me feel.

He gently puts his coffee down on the table behind him and begins to button up his shirt.

Did he sleep naked?

I catch my thoughts before they linger too far and swallow every ounce of misplaced feelings I have towards this man. He captured me, killed my brother, wrecked my entire life; and I'm drooling over him? He's my only sense of safety, but only because he's the one who put me in harm's way.

"How did you sleep?"
He asks as if nothing happened last night. Like I didn't learn his dirty secrets, like I didn't see him cry, like he didn't say those three dreadful words.

"Fine."
I say.

The motel room is still dark, but a sliver of light seeps through the divide in the curtains. He walks over to the window and opens them slowly. My eyes adjust as the room becomes saturated in the early morning light. As he turns around; i suddenly notice his face. His bone structure looks intensified, as dark pulpy bruises climb down his hollow cheeks and onto his neck.

I stifle a gasp and his head jolts downwards as if shameful.

"What happened?"

The muscles in his jaw tense and he lets out a sigh.

"I went out last night."
The words strike an odd chord in my heart, a peculiar feeling washing over me.

"As in- to a bar? A party?"
I ask, confused. After all of this, you 'went out' last night?

"I went back into the narrows."

"Why?"
I ask sharply.

"Well- I just had something I had to do."
His voice sounds so unsure- so different from the Dr. Crane I know.

I scrunch my brows at him and he walks back to his coffee, picking it up and taking a sip as if we had dropped the topic all together.

"What do you mean?"
I push.

He shakes his head while he swallows.
"Don't worry about it."

"Jonathon."
I say, furiously, as if he has any right to withhold information from me.

"Raven I went to your apartment."
He spits. His eyes cold, staring into me; until they drop to the floor again.

"You what?"
I demand.