As the credits roll, Jasper lets go of my hand and I self-consciously pull it back. He doesn't say a word as the lights come on, and I put on my jacket, following him out of the cinema and wondering whether he'll address what happened in there.

He doesn't.

I hide my disappointment as we walk to a restaurant a block away from the movie theater. He talks about the movie, but I don't really participate in the conversation. I don't get him. Why try and comfort me only to pretend as if nothing happened at all?

"So, you like to punish yourself, don't you?"

I look at Jasper, the faint hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "Why are you asking me that?"

"You picked the movie. A horror movie, even though you spent most of the time watching it through your fingers. You were scared."

"So?" I'm instantly defensive.

"So, why do it if you don't actually enjoy it?" He taunts me with his smirk. "I think you're a glutton for self-punishment, Georgina."

My heart skips a beat every time he uses my full name, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I refuse to answer, glaring at the floor. When I still went to see my therapist, this was her opinion, too – that I liked to hurt myself.

I'd spent years self-harming, but now my poison of choice was horror flicks. I'd binge watch them at home, forcing myself to sit through the most graphic scenes with my heart pounding and my head filled with terrible ideas of what could happen to me. Of course, this was something my therapist dug out of me after years of sessions.

It only took Jasper one date.

The hostess in the restaurant guides us to a romantic table for two. The setting is perfect, with a single red rose in a vase on the table, and a candle burning next to it. It's romantic, sweet and fills me with hope... hope that Jasper puts out with every second we spend at the table.

He doesn't speak much. We order our food and after that, he spends an eternity just staring at me while I fumble with my cloth napkin. I fold it over my lap at least four times until I've finally had enough of his prying eyes devouring me.

We eat our appetizers and he still doesn't say a word. Just keeps staring at me with those cool eyes while he devours his food like a wolf.

"Okay, what's your deal?" I finally ask, putting down my fork and glaring at my date over the table. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Like what?" He takes a sip of wine, never taking his eyes off me.

"Like you're... ugh, forget it." I stab at my salad and keep glaring at him. "It's unnerving. Do you do this to everyone?"

"No," he replies easily. "Just to people who hate it."

"Great." I eat a cherry tomato and shoot daggers at him with my eyes. "I guess I should be honored, then."

"Definitely."

I put my fork down and cross my arms. "I don't get you."

"Not many people do."

"It bothers me."

"Join the club." He winks at me and downs his glass of wine. "Enjoying the date, are you?"

"No," I hiss. "I don't get why we're even here. I don't get why you're acting so hot and cold. Why even go out with me if you're not interested?"

"Oh, I'm interested." He puts his cutlery down on the plate, never taking his eyes off mine as the waiter takes away our empty dishes. "I'm very interested, Georgina."

"Doesn't seem like it," I mutter. "Can you answer one question for me?"

"Depends what it is." His eyes get darker, filled with delicious intent, but it only makes me more upset. I want to know more about him, but I'm getting annoyed by his attitude.

"Why are you with me?" I demand, ready to wrap this night and go back to my safety.

 

 

9

 

 

Jasper

 

 

Why are you with me?

Her question floats around us like a promise, unhinged and out of control.

My little Petal has a problem in keeping things in her thoughts. She’s been restless the entire night, stopping herself time and again from asking me that question.

She doesn’t believe I would be interested in her, or perhaps she doesn’t believe this entire situation. She couldn’t have suspected me, considering she was never aware of me following her about.

For that exact same reason, she needs to stay in the dark. I’m not done with her yet. My little Petal has a lot to learn before she can demand things from me.

A movie and dinner were Dinah’s idea, and as boring as that sounded, I complied for no other reason than to catch my little Petal unguarded. It was a setting she’s familiar with and therefore, she ought to have felt more in control.

What a big fucking mistake that was.

After all, it’s a fake type of control. And while the whole setting was a means to an end, I enjoyed how she shrank to my side during the movie, her body trembling with fear.

One day, I’ll teach her that real people are scarier than horror movies.

It’s curious how she chose that particular genre, even though she’s scared of them. Yet another one of my little Petal’s special traits.

“Why am I with you?” I repeat as I cut into my steak.

“You know what I mean,” she watches her surroundings.

“I don’t know, actually. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Jasper.”

The sound of my name on her lips is like a murder symphony. Hey, there’s such thing. Google it.

Her knuckles have turned white from how she grips the napkin tight. Her white skin appears even paler against the dark blue of her dress.

“Do you believe in fairy tales, Georgina?” I ask, her name wrong on my lips. She should be Petal —or Pet, I’m not picky.

However, I’m not ready to trigger her alarms yet.

Her brows furrow at the sudden question, but she quickly recovers. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not, answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

“I... I don’t.”

Hmm. There’s hesitation in there. Interesting.

“Are you sure?” My fork clinks against the plate as I put it down. “Because if you lie, I’ll be compelled to lie, too.”

“I don’t.” She shakes her head. “At least not in the conventional term.”

“Conventional term, how?”

“I’m not waiting for prince charming or for someone to save me from my life. I can take care of it on my own.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

She lifts her head then quickly lowers it. Good girl. “What makes you think I’m waiting for something?”

“A hunch.”

“A hunch?”

“Is it correct?” I ask.

“No.” Another hesitation, but the time is far less than the previous one.

She’s learning, my little Petal. I’m starting to notice she’s good at hiding her emotions. The only reason she’s been slipping with me is because I’m an unfamiliar company and she can’t quite get a read on me yet. Once she does, she’ll go back to her pro-level fake smiles.

“Are you going to answer my question now?” She stares at me, standing her ground.