SHE DIDN'T KNOW HOW much time had passed. These days, she didn't even know what was real anymore. Her dreams bloomed the same crimson as her nightmares, that is, if she even slept at all. At dawn she started imagining his face in the roses, at dusk she heard his voice in the shadows. Out of all the people that came to haunt her, he was the most pleasant one. It didn't matter that his hands were stained red, because he was the only one of her ghosts who was gentle to her.

He could've put her in a cell or in a room without windows, but he had tried to make it more comfortable for her. It was a small kindness, but a kindness nonetheless. Even though he was the source of her problems at the moment, she couldn't help but blame herself and thank him. A starving heart accepted anything, she knew, even if it was poisonous. She could see the Stockholm syndrome forming as it clawed it's way into her body, but knowing the symptoms didn't protect her from them. It was no wonder she couldn't even really be angry at her kidnapper, all her cruelty had always been preserved for herself after all.

"Helene."

She had been staring out of the window all day, but her focus had been lost for a while now, her vision hazy. It was when she heard his voice that she snapped back to the present, immediately finding him amidst the familiar sight of the roses. He was standing in the middle of the garden, waving with a wide smile. His dark hair was messy as always, shadows underneath his eyes as dark as the bruises on his knuckles, even the warm light of the sunset seeming to avoid him. She rubbed in her eyes, but he was still standing there when she looked again. Was this a hallucination?

For the first time since she had known him, he was wearing white. It made him look angelic almost in the sea of red around him, were it not for the stained knife strapped to his belt. When he noticed her gaze flicking down towards it, he casually pulled it out, throwing it away without a care.

"Come down," he said warmly," I'll be waiting for you."

There was only one way to find out if this was real, so she turned towards the door, her hand shaking as she turned the knob. When it clicked open, she hated how she still didn't know if what she was seeing was the truth. Anything was better than this room though, this goddamned room, so she started walking, confused as she looked around hallways she didn't recognize. The sun was seeping in through the windows, coloring the house softly, but all the light did was make her feel like she was going to burn.

She walked down the stairs, her footsteps the only sound echoing through the empty house. It was beautifully decorated, but in the way graveyards were, everything resembling death if you looked close enough. Absentmindedly she touched the chrysanthemums withering in the living room, before heading through the open doors towards the garden. After the first step she couldn't get herself to move, feeling like a statue as she stared at the roses in front of her.

How many days had she counted them? In her nightmares she ripped all of them straight out of the ground, hands bleeding with thorns. Now she was standing here she couldn't help but feel her heart get tangled in itself, knowing that one wrong move could shatter her completely. If this was yet another dream, then what was she supposed to trust anymore? She wouldn't be able to take it if this was simply her brain dreaming up false hopes again.

"Come, Helene," Nathan's voice echoed throughout the empty garden," I'm here. You can trust me."

Had he read her mind because he was a fragment of her imagination or simply because it was easy to see that she was losing it? Either way, she took another step forward and another, feeling surreal as she walked amidst the roses. The cobblestone pathway guided her through the maze of flowers, but she already knew exactly where Nathan would be. All these days staring at this garden had made her memorize the way it breathed, the wind softly blowing them to the center of it's heart.

When she reached it, she looked around confusedly, knowing for certain that this was the place where he had called her from. Had it been an illusion after all? Her hands were shaking as she placed them in front of her eyes, trying to collect herself. Then, the touch of cool skin against hers, gently lifting her hands off as his lips brushed past her ear.

"There you are," he whispered.

He was real. She turned around, his hands still intertwined with hers as he smiled at her. In disbelief she squeezed, but he didn't disappear. When she breathed out, she could feel all the tension crystallize in her tears, glittering as they trickled down her cheeks. Finally, she was talking to another person again.

"I've missed you," he said, cupping her face in his hands," it was hard for me to keep myself away from you, believe me. I only did it because I had to, Helene."

"But you didn't have to," she whispered," I would've listened."

"You would've been blinded by the world, my darling psychiatrist," he said, resting his forehead against hers," about their views of me, their views of you. Now you can see it clearly, can't you? Everything which matters, that is."

She couldn't help but cling to him, but she was unsure whether that was because she didn't want to be alone again or whether she wanted to be with him. It didn't matter. All that did was that she acted like she was supposed to. She'd do anything not to return to that room again.

"I can," she said," thank you, for giving me the time to understand it for myself."

"Anything for you, Helene," he said," how did you like the roses?"

"I dreamed about them every night," she said honestly.

His smile was pleased as he glanced around at the flowers around them, before looking her back in the eye.

"You don't know yet how much I adore you," he said," but you will, soon. This was only the first step."

"I'm along for the whole ride, Nathan," she said, leaning in to his touch," I'll do anything to stay with you, truly."

"You'll prove that to me," he said, softly placing a kiss on her forehead," in time. Now, let's go in, I have something to show you."

He let her go, but she immediately grabbed his hand, his gaze flicking towards her amusedly. It didn't matter if he thought she was being strange, he couldn't let her go. He was the only thing keeping her real. The moment he took a step back, everything could become a delusion again. She couldn't take that risk.

Though she was prepared for him to joke about it, his smile widened instead, gently swaying their intertwined hands back and forth as he hummed on their way back to the house. He seemed so pleased that she couldn't help but hold onto him tighter. Wasn't this love? This warm feeling in her heart, which made her want to be with him and only him? Or was it a fear of abandonment, which had latched itself onto the first person it could find?

Either way, this was all a game. All she could do was play, even if that would mean that this was going to end with his hands around her throat.

"What are you thinking?" she said, glancing up at his face as he continued humming a song she couldn't quite place.

He stared at her in surprise, as if the answer was one she should already know, raising her hand his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"I'm happy," he said," the girl I love reached out to me first instead of refusing to see me, isn't that every man's dream?"

His voice was so gentle that everything almost felt normal, like he was a lover confessing instead of a killer lying.

"I didn't know you'd have the same dreams as other men," she said.

He stopped in place and she wondered if she had said something wrong, his face undecipherable as he looked at her. Still, there was no anger, just a hint of confusion, like he was unsure about what he was feeling himself as he lifted his hand to her cheek. It slid down to her neck, thumb brushing past her carotid artery as he softly put pressure.

"I didn't think so either," he said," I thought this interest would fade after a bit, but something about you enthralls me, more than anything else ever has. Isn't this what everyone speaks of? A love that consumes you?"

She had difficulty breathing as he closed his hand tighter, asphyxia beginning to blow smoke in her mind as he continued on.

"You're so fragile," he said," it's strange to me. I can kill you right now if I want to, snap your windpipe with just the slightest pressure. At first I was planning to take your heart out, simply so it would be mine forever, but I couldn't. I stood there in that prison and was unable to kill you. You're the first person I haven't been able to kill. Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know," she said, barely able to speak.

He tilted his head to the right, looking at her curiously, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to kill her now.

"I don't know either," he said.

Then he let her go, the air filling her lungs again as she coughed, a hand on her chest. He reached out his hand towards her again, the same one which had been choking her, smiling so dazzlingly that it was almost blinding as he looked at her.

"Let's go back, Helene," he said.

She took his hand.