“You didn’t fail. You saved two people and you got rid of some trash. That’s a good thing.”
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t agree. That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.
“Did it bother you to see me like that?” he asks as I tug his jeans down.
Shaking my head, I gaze up at him as I kneel to get his boots and socks off. He’s covered in dirt and blood, his clothes smell earthy, and there’s a hint of sweat too, but nothing about it turns me off.
“I thought you were sexy. I mean, you’re always sexy, but seeing you defend me and others like that was hot. Does that make me weird?”
“I already told you that you’re not weird. You’re perfect as you are.”
“Well, not perfect, but thank you.”
Carnage reaches down and gently pulls me up before cupping my face. “No, you are. You’re so resilient and a daily surprise for me.”
“Thanks.”
I finish undressing him, then while he washes his hands at the sink I start the shower and peel my own clothes off. Carnage turns around, taking in my naked body.
“You’re beautiful too. Do you see that?”
I shrug, suddenly shy. “I don’t think about it, I guess.”
“You should. I want you to see your worth the way I do.”
My nose tickles with emotions, but I’m not in the mood for feelings so I shove it down and gently guide Carnage into the shower. He steps under the showerhead, closing his eyes as hot water pours over him, washing away the dirt and blood from the night.
I check his hands, noting some scrapes but no major damage. “Why do you fight with your bare fists? Shouldn’t you at least wear gloves?”
“Okay, Specter.” He grins. “He’s always on me about the same thing.” He shrugs. “I get caught up in the moment. I like how it feels to connect flesh to flesh.”
“But it hurts you. You’re worth more than that too.” I lift his hands. “Look at this damage. Was that loser worth it?”
“Yes.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?
“Yes.”
I giggle, pressing my chest to his. “I guess it works for you, but I’d rather see you come back unharmed.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Good enough.” I take the bottle of bodywash from the niche and pour some in my hands, rubbing them together to produce lather, then I wash Carnage’s chest, under his arms, over his shoulders, and his belly, enjoying the way his skin feels.
Maybe there is something satisfying about killing a man with your bare hands. A bad man, of course. Is it weird that it doesn’t bother me and that I even wish I could’ve been there tonight?
“You’re thinking pretty hard,” Carnage says.
I laugh. “I was, yeah. Just wondering why I didn’t have a stronger reaction to seeing the video tonight. I’ve always been attracted to darker things though. Like horror movies—the gorier the better. I was watching Mafia movies behind my mom’s back when I was still a kid. My grandparents were religious, so when I went to live with them, I snuck horror novels behind so-called wholesome books. I love haunted stories about real places, even though I don’t really believe in ghosts. I just like creepy, dark things.”
“Doesn’t match your personality. You’re so cheerful and full of sunshine, in spite of what you’ve been through.”
“You have to go on, right? Your options are limited. Go on or give up, and I was never ready to give up.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Turn around. I’ll wash your back.”