40: He Desires Who He Admires

                                    

                                          


                          


                          


                          


                          
*Narrator's POV*

                          


                          


                          
After you and Jeff had separated into their own parts of the house, both were left with strange sensations in their chests. With a now rosy complexion, you couldn't fight the smile that made its way to your lips as your hand squeezed at your chest, a curious feeling of content filling your heart along with something else. Something you couldn't quite make out.
                          


                          
Where as the moment the killer was out of your field of vision, his breathing was quick to become uneven. A hand reaching up to his lips, can't believing he kissed you. Where he would have preferred the lips, he was please that he got away with a simple peck on your cheek.
                          


                          
However, it didn't stop his mind from wandering to thoughts where his desire to touch you was unlimited. He wanted to run his fingers through your hair, pulling at the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. He wanted to outline the curves of your body with his hands, bringing your flesh against his own. 
                          


                          
'You've lost everything...'
                          


                          
These sudden words attacked his mind at once, reeling him back to reality, causing him to shudder. He had no reason to deny Jane's words because they were true. He took a gamble on his whole life to play this game with you. It was an impulse of the heart but he'd do it again. But if he couldn't get you to stay after you won, because he knew you would win, he would have officially lost everything. He took his whole family and left them behind.
                          


                          
His only hope was that you would fail in love with what he was and stay by his side and if he got really lucky, they'd accept you too. Yet Jeff knew that his wishes were far fetched, impossible. They wouldn't accept you and you would never have such feelings for him. Jane was right. She knew she was right and that's why she said it. However, he could have never imagined that he would be responsible for your parent's demise. Whether you had problems with them or not, they were still your parents and he knew exactly how they felt about their daughter.
                          


                          
While doing research and hunting them himself, he heard and saw many things. How they spoke of their precious daughter. From the help of a friend, he was able to hack into your parent's emails where he tried to get more information on them but what he found was more personal. Talking about art schools, drawing classes, high paying teachers, and of course, looking at best utensils for art. He remembered them talking about getting their kid enrolled in some classes to make sure this was what she wanted to do and they'd go from there.
                          


                          
At the time, he thought nothing of it but doting parents who felt like they failed their only child that they loved more than anything. He thought that taking them out wouldn't make a difference to the kid then. The kid would be fine, just like he was. Now, he regretted it. You were in the same exact position he put himself in all those years ago. You were in a place of inner isolation, left behind with no closure, just memories you wish to forget. Unlike him, you couldn't forget because unlike you, he didn't remember what happened that night.
                          


                          
All he recalled was feeling a burning heat against his skin, the smell of smoke that filed his lungs, his vision and mind black. When he woke up, laying in the middle of the woods, two unfamiliar figures standing over him. In the midst of his confusion, blood soaking his clothing, he could barely understand what they were saying as they spoke, their words muffled. Not because they were the problem but because his head was pounding, everything was a muffled echo, like the wind through the bristling trees. Though the moment he got to his feet, he took off while they chased him.