Chapter 17: The Obsession Deepens

Dillon made his way down the hall from Theodore’s room and back to his own. He was still covered in splatters of blood - his and Suki’s - and his mind was in turmoil. Having just admitted some really fucking heavy shit to Theodore, he couldn’t believe he’d gotten the cold shoulder. The brush off. Now what? Was Theodore going to call the police on him and have him arrested? On what grounds would be potentially be arrested? In his mind, Suki was his.

Regret - for telling Theodore - swirled in Dillon’s mind as he spiralled. Pacing back and forth, he looked at his hands, his shirt, his blood stained jeans and another suspicious white mark splattered just below his knee. What if he just told Suki about everything? She’d have to figure him for being honest? But what if she didn’t?

Could he live with that... ?

No!

No he definitely couldn’t. He would kill himself then her if that ever happened.

No you idiot, it’s kill her, then yourself, he berated internally as he shook his head.

Deciding to have a shower to wash some of the terrible thoughts of Suki not forgiving him away, Dillon grabbed his towel and walked into the en-suite. For the first time in a long time he was going to just have a shower. Something had triggered in him, and he was feeling so much more for that leggy redhead than just infatuation and lust. It was desperation to call her his - to be able to actually say she was his girlfriend. They had kissed, and that had to mean something.

Tossing his towel at the drying rack, he began peeling his clothes off. Ever so carefully he removed his t-shirt, reverently laying it down by the sink and running his fingers tenderly over the splatters of Suki’s blood and smiling to himself before lifting his fingers to his lips to kiss where they had touched the stain.

His jeans were the hardest to get off. The dried blood clinging to the fabric and sticking it to his thigh as it congealed around his legs hairs. Focusing on their rough kiss, Dillon sucked on his lip right where she’d bitten him and yanked his pants down. Just like ripping off a band-aid

Reaching a hand into the shower and turning the water on, he waited for it to heat up before stepping in and under the stream where his mind began recapping the events of the evening. Several times he rewound his memory in an attempt to recall what it was that initially triggered Suki to contact him in the first place and ultimately asking him to come over.

The Facebook picture! He thought. She was upset because she thought it was her ex. So she came to me for comfort. Running his fingers through his hair, Dillon tilted his head back into the stream of steaming water. So, if I want to be around her more, then she needs to be scared again. Seeking comfort ... from me. Smirking as he put the two and two together, he wiped the water from his eyes. Anxious Suki = comfort from Dillon. Perfect.

Self-satisfied, Dillon grabbed the soap he began washing down his body - cleaning the red, caked on remnants of the night away. As he watched the red tinged suds disappear down the drain, he decided he’d not be able to do the same with his shirt. That was now a prize that contained Suki’s DNA and deserved special treatment. He’d take it to bed with him - holding it close to his face so he could smell the scent of her blood.

Dillon’s shower was the physical incarnation of his new mindset. Purged of any doubt, thoroughly absolved of any wrong-doing. His actions having directly led to Suki assaulting him with her body. It was all the justification he needed.

Should I post another picture on her Facebook? Tonight? Late? He thought, shutting the water off. Late at night would be sure to scare her.

Stepping out of the stall he grabbed his towel, drying himself thoroughly as his mind set to work.

Which picture should I use?

Wrapping the towel around his waist he walked over to the laptop and fired it up, drying his hair while he waited for it to boot.

She’s already kissed me so there’s an attraction there, she just needs that push and to know how much I cherish her and want her. I’ll always keep her happy. She’ll never want to be with anyone else ever again.

Dillon’s laptop sparked to life, and he grabbed Suki’s smashed phone. Plugging it into the computer, he idly flicked through his my girlfriend folder.

God she’s gorgeous. All these poses just for me.

Halting his search, Dillon hovered the mouse over a photo where she was looking back over her shoulder. Kneeling on a bed, she was wearing only panties, her bear back to the camera. You look amazing babe, he groaned as his touch ghosted the screen. Caressing her curves. Catching himself before he fell too far, Dillon clicked on the image and turned his attention to the phone. Doing his best to read through the severely cracked screen. Squinting his eyes, his finger followed along the options until he found what he hoped was Facebook. Clicking it, he was then met with a pop-up box.

Password has been changed from another device

“Ah SHIT!” He spat out loud, looking along the other options.

Instagram? Perfect!

Tapping the accept button, the image loaded instantly, and he followed with the perfect caption:

“The day I got to drag my fingers down that gorgeous back while we were making love. #mineforever, “ he added with a smirk.

Perfect! He praised himself as he unplugged the phone cord.

Unlike the previous nights, Dillon didn’t feel the need to sleep with his laptop open with a picture of Suki on the screen. Tonight he had something better. So, shutting his laptop and unplugging it from the charger, he opened the drawer of his nightstand. Lotion, an unopened box of condoms, and a few other loose items rolled around, and his eyes landed on a zippo lighter. Dillon hated cigarettes, but he had smoked a lot of pot in high school. In fact, that’s how he and Damon had met in the first place. Catching his glassy eyed stare one day at the start of the first semester, the bad-boy had approached him and the rest was history. Most afternoons were spent in Dillon’s room doing not much at all, until Seth had joined their little group. A positive influence through and through. Picking up the lighter, Dillon slid his laptop into the drawer and rested his forearms on his knees. Leant forward, he flicked open the lighter and watched the flame quiver. He and Damon had talked so much shit when they were high together, and he recalled how easy it had been for him to lie about his past. He wasn’t a pathological liar, he just didn’t want to be seen as less than his peers. Sneering as he chucked the lighter onto his bedside table, Dillon wondered why he’d been so concerned about Damon’s opinion of him anyway? The guy was a prick, and what Dillon now had with Suki was far better than any of his fabricated tales.