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Story: Unholy Obsessions
CHAPTER TWELVE
ONYX
S elene fell asleep in my arms in the pool. I don’t move for a while, feeling my skin becoming pruned as the water laps around our naked bodies. It was well after midnight when I slipped out of bed earlier, and I was only down here for about twenty minutes before she came down and found me.
When I can’t sleep, I find peace in the water—specifically below the surface. It always starts out with swimming laps across the pool and ends with me on the floor of the deep end, pushing my body's limits until it feels like every organ is going to give out.
Selene understands it and never questions me about it. I know she has her own sort of abandonment issues after the way she lost her father, especially considering how close she was with him, even though it's difficult for her to develop any type of attachments with people.
That’s the thing about the two of us that makes no sense. We were both diagnosed with multiple mental disorders, but the one that stood out the most was antisocial personality disorder. It’s essentially the nice way to diagnose someone as a psychopath nowadays. That word alone comes with its own stigma and instant judgment from the outside world, which doesn’t understand the inner workings of the mind.
If you’re diagnosed as a psychopath, people ultimately assume that you’re some type of murderer or serial killer… and well, if the shoe fits, you might as well fucking wear it, right?
It’s unusual for people who are like us to become attached to anyone or anything. I think in some fucked up way, maybe stemming back to childhood, Selene was desperately attached to her father. He was her lifeline and it’s probably because she was essentially a replica of him. She was his prodigy, his legacy, and her ego ate that shit up.
He helped her understand herself when no one else could make any sense of her. With him, she didn't feel alone because she didn’t have to be anymore.
Then when he was taken from her, her entire world was turned upside down. Until she met me. Call it fate, call it destiny; we were meant to be together. It was like staring into a distorted mirror, another fucked-up version of myself.
Where I am calculated and controlled, Selene is unhinged and sporadic. We complement each other. And the only way to make sense of it is us being twin flames, two halves of one whole. She was the missing piece in my life.
We complete each other because we are the same person. Over time, we’ve become so dependent on one another, it’s like we’ve formed the same attachment that Selene had with her father when she was a child. And I get it—I totally do—but I also know how unhealthy it is.
Life isn’t guaranteed, especially when you’re living from one adrenaline rush to the next, one kill to another. The life we live is risky as fuck, and it wouldn’t take much for us to lose all of it. It wouldn’t take much for us to lose everything, including each other.
The air is cold on my wet skin as I lift Selene in my arms and climb out of the red lit water. Opening one of the fake rocks, I reach inside and pull out a massive towel to wrap around her naked body. We had that installed because it makes it a lot easier to have shit accessible with the way we both operate.
Especially on nights like this, when we’re both naked in the pool and it’s fucking cold out. Selene nestles her head in the crook of my neck, wrapping her arms tighter around me as she murmurs something against my skin. I don’t know what she says, but I carry her into the house without another word.
As I step through the French doors, both fucking dogs are right there. Their lips curl upward, a low snarl coming from their chests as they eyeball me. “Fuck you both,” I growl back, ignoring their threats.
They won’t fucking touch me, not unless Selene gives them the go-ahead to attack. Both dogs circle around my feet, their necks outstretched as they smell Selene’s legs and feet wrapped around my torso.
“See? Your master is fucking fine,” I assure them, before pushing past both of them and heading toward the stairs in the foyer. The wooden floor is cold beneath my feet as I carry Selene upstairs and head back to our bedroom.
The bed is still a mess of pillows, with the comforter ruffled after she climbed out and rushed to find me in the pool. I walk over to her side and lower her down into the spot where she was lying earlier.
“Come back to bed with me?” she asks softly, her eyes peering up at me as I pull the comforter back up to her chin. Reaching down, I brush a piece of hair away from her face. She appears so innocent and pure; the thought of what she’s capable of is such a stark contrast to seeing her lying in bed right now. “Please?”
Even though I'm not tired, I still give her what she wants and climb onto the mattress behind her. Scooting across the bed, I tuck myself under the covers, lying with her back pressed against the front of me, wrapping my arm around her torso.
There’s an unusual tenderness between us, and it’s vastly different to our usual violence. Selene isn’t what she’s perceived to be, and if anyone knew the truth about her, they wouldn’t understand. She isn’t her demons, she has just learned how to coexist with them in the same way that I have.
Two serial killers who come equipped with a tragic past, multiple mental diagnoses, and god complexes that could never be eradicated. No one understands her like I do. Seeing this tender side of her shows that she doesn’t completely fit the psychopath mold; she obliterates it and makes her own place instead.
She’s made her own place inside my rib cage, rooted right inside my rotten fucking heart.
She might be a monster, but she’s my monster.