((Grrr read more isnât working. Sorry. Medusa/Stein drabble. I donât know what this is. A little scene that happens after this (which is amazing) I guess. I was inspired. This is probably really dumb. Iâve never written anything like this before. ))
He doesnât love her. Not really. He has long been convinced that he was incapable of feeling an emotion like love.
But he does feel something. Something about her makes him feel, feel so strongly in a way he doesnât understand, and it scares him. Not being in control of his own mind has always scared him.
Her very presence is intoxicating. His rational, reasoning mind falters every time she speaks. Sheâs just so maddeningly attractive. Not in the physical sense.
⌠Not completely in the physical sense.
He has chained himself his entire life, trying to suppress his violent tendencies. Itâs for his own good. He wants to keep his soul intact. But, nevertheless, they are chains.
This woman, this witch offers him a release from these chains. A life where he can truly be himself.
He still doesnât know if itâs worth it, accepting the madness.
Besides what she offers him, she is a strong, intelligent woman. He wants her. He is draw to her like nothing else.
And yet there is always the nagging doubt. He is not completely insane yet. She is an evil witch. He knows that she is an evil witch. Why does he not care? Despite everything that she is, that sheâs done, who sheâs hurt, he wants to be by her side. It means freedom.
She is also an incredibly interesting specimen. He wants to know how she works. He wants to dissect her.
And these are the reasons why he stands over her sleeping form now, knife hanging at his side. The acceptance of her offer, the longing to be near her, the hatred he feels towards her, his enemy, and the need to dissect what interests him.
He lowers himself to the bed, moving the knife to her throat, and stops.
He could end this. He could end this so easily, fulfilling this desire heâs had since childhood. Even his rational mind agrees. Kill the witch. Kill the enemy. Dissect.
The cold voice that has plagued his dreams for so long breaks the thick silence of the dark bedroom. She turns her head carefully, the knife a centimeter from her jugular. Her golden snakesâ eyes lock with his, unsurprised, though mildly interested, slightly amused.
His grip tightens. âAnd why is that?â he hisses.
She smiles. âCome now Stein, must I explain what you already know?â
She maneuvers an arm out from under the covers and places her hand lightly on his, moving the blade from her throat. He surprises himself by offering no resistance. âIt would be boring without me.
"You kill me, and things go back to the way they were. You go back and live your monotone life of restraint at the Academy. Youâve had a taste of the life I can give you and you donât want to go back to that. You never wanted that at all.â
She eases the knife from his grasp and his hand falls to his side in defeat. Sheâs right of course. Sheâs always been right.
Suddenly she seizes the collar of his shirt and pulls him down.
"Come in with me," she murmurs.
He surprises himself for the third time this night by obeying.
She curls up against his chest under the covers, tracing the lines of stitches that crisscross his body lightly with her fingers. He shudders.
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