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No longer naive couple trapped in their past errors.

His eyes were unreadable. Every so often, however, I saw his nostrils twitch. Did I overdo the air freshener? "Your apartment is very small. Cozy, I think you'd say."

"Uh... yeah, sorry," I mumbled.

"There's no need to apologize." He walked slowly around the coffee table and ran his fingers over the old TV against the wall, rubbing dust from them afterwards. Shit. I hadn't cleaned this place as well as I thought I had. I tried to find something to distract him from the dirtiness of my abode.

"Um... So what's in the bag?" I asked pointedly.

Ricky finally tore his scrutinizing gaze from my apartment and back to me again. He smiled broadly, almost malevolently. "If you want to know that, you should show me to your bedroom," he said, and I saw his eyes gleam like a cat's.

The bottom of my stomach dropped out of me. Oh... so that's where this was heading already! When my insides returned, they were swimming with butterflies. Breathless, I walked past Ricky and shouldered the door to the bedroom open. The loud noise made me wince, and I mumbled an apology. "Sorry... It sticks..."

But Ricky didn't seem to mind. He only stepped past me into the bedroom, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over his arm. My bedroom was no less unimpressive than the rest of the apartment - just my double bed on its shitty metal bedframe alongside what I called a nightstand but what was really just a couple of milk crates and a board, full of books and stuff I never bothered to put in its proper place. He examined the dresser on the far wall, the top of which held a pair of speakers and an articulated giant robot figurine - a remnant from my days as an avid model collector in high school. Ricky picked it up with mild interest.

"Oh - don't mind that, it's stupid," I said quickly, my face turning red as I hurried over to him.

"I don't think it's stupid," he said lightly, turning it over and testing the arm joint. "Nothing you are interested in is stupid, Shay. I'm actually very surprised by the lack of personality in your home. There is... very little of you here."

I was taken aback by his statement. "What do you mean by that?"

He repositioned the robot figure and placed it back on its little stand, looking it over thoughtfully. "This apartment is very blank. You have not gone out of your way to decorate it, or embellish it with things you enjoy. I see none of your music tastes, your hobbies, your favorite movies or television shows. You seem to simply exist in this place, never truly living here." He turned towards me and brushed a lock of hair over his ear. "Are you ashamed of the person you are, Shay?"

My mouth opened slightly, but I only ended up biting my lip. I had no idea what to say. For the past few years, I would have rather spent my money on body modification than superficial belongings like I did in high school. Even now, my figurines were all packed up in a box at my parents' house, along with the vast majority of my book collections - I just hadn't seen the point of bringing it all when I moved, and I never took the time to go back for it. But was I ashamed? I had no idea what to tell him...
"I... don't know..."

"Hm," he sounded, and he turned away from me again to look over the room. His eyes fell to the bed, and then the floor, and all of a sudden, he got down on his knees, placed the tool bag and his jacket on the mattress, and lowered himself to peer under the bed, his ponytail touching the floor. I was puzzled, and then fearful as I realized what was under there, and I moved to tell him no... But then he resurfaced, and with him came the thing I had hoped he wouldn't find.

I had nearly forgotten the night I pushed the canvas box holding my pain implements under the bed, the night that Jade ran out on me... But there it was, dragged by Yorick from its hiding place. Needles and blades, matches and lighters, and on top of it all, the striped handkerchief... wrapped around a bloodstained box cutter.

I shuddered and lowe

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