#mirology

By god, you swear his "love language", if you could call it that, was frightening you every time he could.

When your beloved can turn invisible at will, it is to be expected.

He can and will use the fact that you stare into space often to frighten you, dragging his fingers along any exposed skin he can find, blowing on exposed skin with that icy breath of his, etc. If you haven't heard him walking up to you when he was invisible, it frankly was on you.

Jack has poked you with one of his claws before, though it was because he had asked you a question about the paintings that decorated the manor walls and you hadn't answered even when he had called. What else was he supposed to do?

Now Jack won't admit this, especially since he prides himself on not being poetic, but there are little drawings of you stuffed into the desk drawers of his room; his previous self, the real Jack that had once held the body, had never truly disappeared, being ingrained in muscle memory that twitched and begged for him to draw.

When you're spaced out, he commits your features to memory, taking note of things such as items you were holding, what you were looking at, what were you doing, etc. Each of these little things gets put into a drawing.

Sometimes, he even wonders, staring at your blissful face as you stare into nothingness, how you could even stand him. He wonders what allured you to him and what was so alluring about you. He wonders what it would have been like if he, The Ripper, was still being suppressed, only able to watch from a window if the 'good' Jack had remained. He was nothing more than a killer, someone whose heart beat fast for the blood of those on his hands.

Those feelings get forgotten the moment you would come back, smiling at him with that smile that made him, for a while, forget that annoying, nagging voice that wished to tear you apart. All seemed right in the world for that short moment.