The silence surrounding us was thickening and I distracted myself by counting the specks of crimson against his white Iron Maiden shirt.

His arms never held a definite shape for me. They could be the most comforting place in the world then morph into the most dangerous in a matter of seconds. That's the way he felt about his own thoughts, he told me; the constant breakdowns only seemed to prove that time and time again.

I heard my name being whispered in a raspy tone that I've grown to love, fear, and loathe. Hardly having time to think, I let a generic response slip past my lips; only for it to be lost against the sculpted skin of his neck.

"Yes, Jeff?"

The palm against my back slid up and around until it was able to stroke my cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

If only I had a day of freedom for every time-

"Of course."

His other arm hooked around me and pulled my body atop his in one fluid motion. My face was now against the neckline of his tee and I couldn't help but to feel soothed by the subtle smell of blood. No matter how many times I'd attempt to wash it, the white fabric would just continue to smell like copper; like him. It's funny when you think about it. The blood of more than fifty people had splattered against the garment-and many others of Jeff's-but it all smelled the same. The victims probably believed that they were special. Living with Jeff, I've learned that no one is special. 'Find me a dude that can pick out his cum sample from a labelless sperm bank,' he once said. 'I'll shake the hand he jacked off with because that son of a bitch is special.'

My body began to relax against his and I allowed a wave of security to drown my form. He was sane today.

"Baby?" He cooed. "I mean it."

A small hum of agreement resonated from my throat. All was still and peaceful for a while as he curled his long, bony fingers through my hair.

"Know what today is?"

"Mmmay something?"

"It's July now, Sam."

"Oh..is it my birthday..?"

"Not yet."

That's when it dawned on me. "The 16th?"

I felt him nod and he held me closer, sitting up with me in his lap. "Happy anniversary."

It's already been three years? I hardly remember hitting two and now three is tapping me on the shoulder. Celebrating this was always painful for me while this was Jeff's happiest time of the year. Sure, it was in remembrance of the day he decided not to kill me but it was also in remembrance of the day he ripped me from society as a whole. I'm constantly unaware of what's happening in that parallel universe I like to call "outside". My only source of information is a newspaper here and there that he'd bring back from one of his sprees.

"Aren't you going to say it back?"

His eyes had sharpened into angry slits in response to my silence and all I could do was curse myself.

"Happy anniversary," I whispered softly.

We sat in a heavy silence for what seemed like a long walk through Hell but I was soon jerked back into reality by a hand gripping my chin.

"Isn't this what you always wanted." The dangerous side of himself was oozing past the surface.

I didn't know how to respond. If I lie and agree that yes, it had always been my dream to be held captive by the smartest, most demented man I've ever come into contact with, he'd punish me for the overwhelming sarcasm. But if I tell him the truth then I'll hurt his feelings; something that only I'm able to do and will result in him taking out these feelings on one or two innocent people within a fifteen-mile radius.

"None of the Ordinaries ever loved you. None of the Ordinaries will ever love you."

My heart started to cave. He was feeding off my insecurities and knew exactly how to get to me.

"You couldn't see anyone loving you or wanting to keep you for more than a number of weeks."

His hands were now locked on my hips, nails digging into the skin and creating small crescent shapes beneath them.

"I gave you love and protection and continue to do that three years later."

"I-"

He bit down hard on my shoulder and I swallowed my words.

"Don't." He continued to work on the makeshift love bite until it bled as if he used his knife. All the while I forced out small faux moans. Hearing them always turned him soft for a little bit.

A kiss was bestowed upon my wound and he rested his head on my own. "I know I'm not the best but I love you." His hand traveled beneath my shirt so that he could trace the scars and recent bruises on my back.

"I love you too." No matter how much I tried to deny the fact, it wouldn't turn false. I love Jeff. I don't love the punishments and the confinement and the emotional torment but I love Jeff. I know that fresh air can only be obtained from a slightly cracked window, and receiving my Vitamin D meant sitting on the floor in front of the window so that the sun was hitting me, kind of. Standing in front of the window was dangerous in the sense that somebody might see me from four miles away. But this is the way that it has to be.

I've stopped trying to run away. The only one near enough to hear my footsteps and calls for help is Jeff. The only one that can tend to my wounds and needs is Jeff. The only one that wants me is Jeff. The only one that loves me is Jeff.