Infatuation Of Darkness

She cried as she yelled the word murderer. She was bawling her eyes out. It hurt her deep within. She murdered a man who had done nothing to her as compared to the torture she had faced by her very own stepfamily. Then why did she kill a man only for groping her?

He had done a lot worse to many people and yet they had just complaint about him and not murder him. They trusted the judicial system instead of taking the law in their own hands.

The situation finally weighed down on her. What had she done? What she had committed.. She had pulled the trigger. It was all her fault.

Sobbing against his warm chest, she continued to think and her husband let her. She had to think to get it out of her system and if crying helped her, so be it.

"It's done sweetheart," he cooed as he caressed her hair. "It's done. We cannot go back now."

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "But I killed him!" She yelled. "Killing was not the answer and I don't even regret it. I feel like a psychopath."

Pulling her back to his chest he let her cry again. Her eyes her red from crying and if she had any discomfort or irritation in her eyes he would tell Agatha to let him know.

She continued to weep and he consoled her. Her sobbing come to a stop and he had blown her nose for her then thrown the napkin away. As she stopped sobbing, he knew that thought had finally hit her.

Gently, he asked, "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I.." she heaved, "I do not want to go to jail."

Tilting his head he asked with a curious expression, "But is that not what every criminal says?"

"W—what?" She panicked. The word criminal had brought her back to the reality one more time with her own image flashing in front of her in orange colour.

"Yes, they always say that he didn't mean to kill the other person." His sincere eyes were playing with her. She believed him.

"But I did not want to! I swear I don't know what happened!" She tried her best to explain. "I don't who happened..and I just..pulled the.."

"..the trigger." He completed. Staring off in a random direction he asked, "honey-do you often get urges to kill someone? Just like out of nowhere?"

Alexis remembered the times when she was helping her mom other in the kitchen and she wanted to stab her stepfather for making her life hell. Another time when a professor did not give her the grade she deserved because she was not working up to her calibre and of course, how often in the night when she was up and she saw her husband's peacefully sleeping face she would want to suffocate him to death.

She turned her eyes to him. Her heart was pounding heart. What had she done?

"Tell me the answer love, I cannot read your mind." He gently probed her to answer.

"...yes.." she whispered. Not even whispered, she had mouthed the word and he had caught it.

"Well," he looked tired and stressed at the revelation. "Are sure that you can control the urges?"

She blinked in alarm, "what does that mean?"

"There is something called a murder gene or some shit.." He looked up to remember, "a serial killer gene as they say."

A sob racked her entire being. It shook her. No, she was a serial killer. Didn't everybody have such thoughts? She was sure that she was not the only one. She couldn't be.

Looking at her worried face he immediately tried to calm her down, "don't you worry, sweetheart. We can have you checked in and treated immediately." He offered.

"No, no, no," she cried, "I am not a killer. Please believe me." Joining her hands inform of him, she begged, "please believe me." Her eyes were red from crying and so was her nose. She looked miserable. 

Angelo twisted his face at that. He seemed conflicted and Alexis saw that. It was visible that he thought about her as a murderer but she did not want that. She wanted anything but that.

"Please," she begged with her hands joined in front of him. "Please believe me! Please, Angelo? I won't ever kill anyone. Please!"

He sighed loudly and she stopped talking. He looked away for a moment and her heart sank. Looking back at her he said,"I believe you, sweetheart." He smiled. "And I also believe that it is time for bed. You must rest."

She nodded without a word of refusal. Gathering her in his arms, he picked her up and took her to their room. Before taking her to the bed, he sat on the bathroom counter, asked her to wash her face and went back to the closet. He doesn't look at any of her clothes, instead, he took one his shirts and went back.

She was splashing water on her face when he came back. He opened the door to the shower area and set a warm temperature. Not too hot and not too cold. Just lukewarm.

He took off her clothes and his along with. Facing her under the showerhead, he ran his hands on her entire body. His touch as not sexual, it was gentle and comforting and that only made her sad. He was tending to his serial killer wife.

Wearing her in a towel, he left her in the bathroom to wear sweats. He came back and she was just where he had left her. She didn't seem to move an inch.

He dried her with a towel and patted her hair too. Picking her up one time he played with her hair in the bed and cuddled close.

She breathed on his chest and wrapped herself around him. He caressed her hair and it lulled her sleep.

When she was dead asleep, he got up from the bed. He walked to the cabinet and poured himself some whiskey. Sitting on a single seat sofa he looked at Alexis as he drank.

He had won.