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Mornings weren’t always so hard. Sometimes they were beautiful, all bathed in that uniquely pearly white light. He loved the way it curved over the wrinkles in the sheets and the comforter, weaving into your hair before his fingers could. He was jealous of it on those mornings. You were his to claim and cherish, and it had beaten him. A strange thought, to be envious of something that couldn’t feel. But it made him pull you closer to bury his face into the strands where the sun had already done all the same.
However, more often than not, mornings were ugly. Dark. Where he’d been awake since before the sun was even thinking of rising.
Demons crawled through the floor boards of his house, slipped through the windows, even curled over your sleeping form…or the empty space when you didn’t say with him. Those were the worst nights.
His feet glued to the floor as he sat there on the edge of his bed, gaze still as a statue’s. He stared at that fucking mask he’d scared everyone with, stared at his sisters, stared at that little eleven-year-old boy who had no idea what he was in for, but mostly, he stared at--
-- that monster with tan skin and green eyes.
Abductor. Violent. Killer. Not directly, but Emily died.
Blunted nails dug into his palms
When had he gone from a protective brother, loving boyfriend, and caring friend to…he didn’t even know.
His brain had always been sick, but it had been medicated to hell and back. It was finally shackled in place with enough pills and yet here he was. Still a creature.
Maybe it was just his soul that had a problem.
Nothing can medicate that.
No, but swallowing all your medication can. That destroys monsters.
Your soft sleeping sigh pierced through the thought and sent his heart into an electrified rhythm.
His gaze turned back toward the man in the mirror, eyes wild, irises on fire.
What the hell was that impulse? He’d hadn’t even considered that since he’d met you.
He’d never go back there, but the fact that the thought had even fluttered through his mind halted his breath.
“Josh…”
He breathed in.
Your lips pressed to the side of his neck before you scooted next to him, feet barely touching the floor.
“(Y/n)…”
“What are you looking at?”
The question was asked in an innocent way, but he knew you were more intuitive than that.
You both stared deep into the mirror for a long time, but he never answered the question. It just hung in the air, heavier with every moment that ticked by.
“A monster.”
His heart panged. You had been the one to say it. “What?”
You pointed at his reflection. “That’s what you see, isn’t it?” When he bit his lip you dropped your head to his shoulder. “Then I guess I am too.”
“Yeah, ok.” Bitterness.
Still staring at your reflections you countered, “Maybe one day I’ll tell you about all the people I’ve hurt…sometimes to the point of no return. And on purpose.”
“That doesn’t make you a monster, (Y/n).”
“Whatever you say, Josh.” You volleyed.
Silence for a long moment, and then, “I’ve seen you love and care for people. You love me of all people…a monster just can’t do that.”
“So you’re saying you don’t love me?”
“What?” His expression turned painful. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else.”
“But according to your logic, monsters can’t love.”
Josh made a frustrated sound and looked away. He wasn’t in the mood for playing games.
Tense silence stretched through the room. You hadn’t meant to upset him further. Damn he was being more difficult than usual.
“Fine. I may not be a monster, but I do have one inside me.” You persisted. “I just keep it chained up. So do you. We can’t escape our shadow, but it’s not who we are. It’s not what you are.” Your smile was pained, but accepting of this fact.
Green eyes finally turned toward you. “What am I then?”
“Human.”