Will was already a little drunk by the time Margot came to his door; he had finished off the bottle of whiskey from their last meeting. He could see in his mind's eye the mangled look of fear in is victim's eyes. It didn't matter whether or not he had a reason, because he would have done it anyway. It was easier to include self-loathing in the rumination when there was alcohol involved.

He wasn't surprised to see her at his door, for she had a penchant for showing up when he was lost in thought and nearly severed from reality. Maybe it was good when she showed up, because she could pull him up again.

He felt that something was different about her this time and he almost asked her to leave. But who could decline a pretty girl holding a bottle?

Oh, she was beautiful. Bright, painted lips parted expectantly. Glossy tresses that fell past her shoulders in waves. Clear eyes that reflected himself in them. He recoiled slightly, and invited her in. She was off-limits of course. He hoped they could be in each others' lives at least; she seemed intelligent. Although given the people he tended to attract, there was probably something the matter with her, besides the apparent homicidal tendencies which they shared.

He didn't recall what she said or what he said in response. Everything was a flurry of smell and touch and suddenly she was unbuttoning his shirt.

Seeing each other's scars was innocent enough. But it wasn't the scars she truly wanted to see-it was the skin. By the time he realized what was happening he was naked and she was undressing.

From then on he was governed by instinct. The sweet scent of their sweat reminded himself of the goal and her hips kept him focused. He did not see her when he looked at her, but he knew she didn't see him either.

Afterward he felt empty. He thought to ask her if she wanted a snack or a drink, or at least to cuddle, but by the time he opened his mouth she was already gone.