The Drug in me is You

The ballroom was always empty this time of night.

He couldn't sleep. His dealer had been expelled, leaving Loch with no way to get sleeping pills besides going to the infirmary to ask for them himself, but he avoided that place at every possible cost. He was out of alcohol.

He was in for a long night.

The contents of a Valentines Day note weighed on him like a noose. His throat tightened at the thought of it. You should know this: I am not dead. I will find you.

His footsteps echoed off the high ceilings, a steady accompaniment to his racing heart. His didn't know what to do with his arms while he paced and eventually he collapsed onto the stairs. The edges dug into his back and he sat up, resting his head and arms over the edge of his knees, thinking.

I'm not dead.

His life had come to the point where that could mean a number of people.

I will find you.

The only question was when?

He didn't care who it was, or what they'd do to him. He deserved it. He knew he deserved it the same way he knew his own name or the sensation of raindrops falling on the top of a river. It was just a simple fact.

But he couldn't sleep.

Oh--

Oh--

Oh--

Loch searched for the proper expletive, but nothing came to him in English or Welsh. He had neared the top of the stairs when he heard foot steps below, followed by the smacking and shuffled-stride of two people sneaking away. He thought about clearing his throat and taking his leave, but that's when he saw the light hair, the tight stockings, that cold, cold face.

Guin.

He watched her trail her fingers down the man's spine, hook in his belt loops. Loch had dropped almost to the floor, crouching behind the slitted banister and practically crawling towards the side door.

Guin.

His fingers rushed up the door and gripped the handle tightly, giving it an experimental tug, but it didn't budge. He tried it again, pushing to be sure, but the door was locked, and he wished again that he could think of a curse word to describe the absolute....whatever this feeling was.

Relief that she was alive? Fear that maybe she wasn't alive at all? Horror at seeing her kissing someone like that? Some other, familiar, illicit feeling of watching her kiss someone like that and thinking about maybe doing the same thing to her. Then fear again, because the last thing he remembered was kissing her, then waking up next to her still, cold body.

Loch crouched back down behind the banister and wiped his damp palms on his jeans. The only other way out of there was back downstairs, but he'd somehow have to get down the staircase and past Guin and that guy and out the door without them noticing.

He peeked through the slits in the banisters, hoping the shadows would conceal him, and watched Guin, waiting for an opportunity to escape.

Guin.

Loch was caught.

In biology, he learned that most mammals have three basic responses to danger:Freeze, flight, or fight. The first two didn't work, so he was left with the latter.

When he stood up, he tossed his head back like a horse. He composed the most arrogant smirk he could onto his face when he rounded the corner and stood at the top of the stairs. One of his hands rested on the banister, his long fingers trailing down it in a caress.

He knew a few things about Guin.

One:
She could read his mind. He knew she couldn't pick up everything he was thinking because she got a few things wrong, but the vast majority had been right, so he knew he had to fixate on something that was wrong and maybe she wouldn't figure it out.

Two:
She was dead. She was either some kind of vampire, or maybe a succubus, or a siren, or a fairy? He didn't think robots existed, but damn, she was cold enough. But what could read minds, kill with a kiss, and come back to life? He wasn't sure. Loch wasn't very familiar with anything beyond his own kind, and the diversity at Manta Carlos was overwhelming as it was.

"I wondered when you'd notice me," Loch said. He didn't descend from the staircase, hoping that the height gave him...some sort of advantage. She was already so small that he would tower he if he descended, but Loch felt safer up here.

He focused his thoughts, focused about...meeting her here, yes. It was the most convincing lie he could think of.

"I came here looking for you," he nodded towards the teacher at her feet, trying to hide his discomfort. Loch had been around a lot of bodies, but most of them he'd caused. it was weird being the spectator for once. "I know all about why you're here."

He meant the ballroom, but there was something in his tone that indicated that he knew more than he was letting on, letting it be a play of words.

He tried to think that this wasn't a stupid idea. He projected confidence, arrogance even. So he accidentally spied on her--NO! That was it! He was a spy! It was so ridiculous, even he knew that, but there were so many strange people on this island.

This was a stupid idea, but he'd warmed to it, and there was no going back. He tried to match the composure of her face and found it was easy if he didn't think, if he just focused on the flat line of her lips. His own heart was going to flat line.

"It wasn't an accident that we met, you know."