His hand wrapped around my neck as he pushed me up against the wall, his eyes flashed with something that I somewhat remembered from that first night that I met him. I looked down, not understanding why this was happening.

The cat, my baby, was meowing at the door to the room, responding to my single cry of surprise. My breathing was growing erratic and I couldn't see. It didn't take long before I floated into unconsciousness, I knew that I was going to die; I could feel it in my bones.

Everything hurt, it was too bright, and I felt like my head had been split open with a pick-ax. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to block out the painful light and the horrid memories of why I was this way.

It had only been a week since Michael had come back to me; we were hardly ever apart except for when I was in classes, and I only had three hours of classes every morning. The rest of the time I spent with Michael: watching movies, cuddling, or having sex.

I don't know what I did to make him so angry, or why he had hurt me; I had kissed him, the found myself up against a wall.

My hand went to my throat, and touched the bruised flesh; I grimaced, and rolled out of bed. It was a fact that I'd be wearing turtleneck sweaters to classes the next few days. Two long steps brought me to the door, and opening it showed me that Confetti was still alive and waiting to be fed.

My head was throbbing; the many thoughts floating around in there didn't do it much good either. I had been happy just being with him, and so was he, at least he never gave any indication that he wasn't enjoying my presence. On the contrary, he always found a way to be near me, unless I was in class. Even when I was doing homework he had to be right there, constantly touching me.

The previous day, I had just gotten back to the apartment from a relatively stressful few hours of class. My Abnormal Psychology teacher had just given us a six page paper, as did my Theories of Personality teacher. I had also been hit on by a group of guys as I left the Psychology building, they had followed me most of the way home before loosing interest and leaving me be. After all that I just wanted to be alone with my Michael.

That had been when I tried to kiss him, and he hurt me. Now he was gone and my little apartment felt so empty without his constant presence. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall, an endless reminder of the seconds going by while I was sitting here alone. Confetti joined me on the couch after her meal and sat on my lap, demanding the attention I hadn't been able to give her lately. Halfheartedly I stroked her fur, letting my mind drift off into nothingness for awhile.

I had been sitting there an hour when impulsively, I picked up the phone and dialed, shifting my weight on the couch so I was laying there looking at the sealing. When the voice on the other end answered I let out my breath and smiled to myself, "Hey Izzy, want to have a movie night? It's time for girl talk, don't forget the ice cream."

It wasn't long before we were both sitting on the floor in our pajamas eating chocolate ice cream and watching Edward Scissorhands. Though neither of us were really paying attention to our favorite Johnny Depp character at the moment, we were discussing what had happened between me and Michael.

"I think you're psycho for letting the guy touch you," Izzy said licking her spoon before sticking it back in her bowl, "you knew what he was capable of, you're lucky you are still alive." Izzy hadn't thought the relationship healthy from the start, but she was one to keep her mouth shut, unless she turned out to be right in the long run.

"I don't think he wanted to kill me to begin with," I said with a shrug, "he would have done that when I first met him if he wanted to." I grabbed a handful of purple sprinkles and busied myself with licking them out of my hand, when I was finished I continued, "I think he just got mad at something, and then he took it out on me."

"What would your professors say if they knew?" Izzy wondered dramatically her hand pressed to her forehead, I pushed her playfully and sighed, turning my attention to Edward on the TV. She followed suit and we watched the remainder of the movie in what was very close to silence.

When the credits started to roll Izzy stretched and looked at me, grabbing one of the ice cream dishes away from Confetti, "So what are you going to do?" We were back on that subject once again.

The question was so simple, and it should have a easy answer, but I was so lost all I could do was bury my head between my knees and let out a strangled sob. I couldn't even put to words how I felt in that moment; my obsession with the masked man had turned into something much more in the few days since I had met him. The worst part in all this was he wasn't around anymore to hear me say it out loud.

A hand touched my shoulder running gently up and down my back, something that I hadn't had done to me in a long time. I let out a sniffle, trying to control the tears that had made their way down my face. Footsteps and a gasp made my head shoot up, who was touching me if Izzy had been in the kitchen this whole time?

The hand trailed up and lightly fingered the bruised skin on my neck, then up to my chin then across my lips. I looked into the dark eyes of my masked man, fear flashing across my face and took over my eyes. I let out a whimper and tried to pull away, not wanting to let him hurt me again.

His other hand reached out and stopped me from moving back, pulling me forward to place a plastic kiss on my lips. He pulled back when he felt my body stiffen up and tilted his head to the side, running his fingers once again over the bruised flesh on my neck. I shivered involuntarily, enjoying the cold of his fingers on my overheated skin.

"Why did you do it Michael?" I asked reaching up to hold his hand against my neck. I looked over his shoulder at Izzy, who quickly turned and made her way back into the kitchen, probably to finish cleaning up our dirty dishes. Quickly I looked back at him, trying to get the answers I wanted out of the silent man.

He just shook his head and kissed me again, I melted into it this time, closing my eyes and letting out a quiet whimper. I don't know if it was a coping mechanism on his part, a form of undoing, but I wasn't going to get a answer out of him, at least not right now. I gave into temtation and pulled my body closer to him, touching his face with my hands and sighing in contentment. He felt right.

"I'll just be going," I heard Izzy's voice behind us, "be careful Andi, I don't want you to get hurt." I pulled myself away enough to flash her a smile and nod in her direction before she turned to leave. The door closing signaled she was gone, and that we were now alone again. Part of me was afraid, but most of me wanted this.

I felt myself leave the floor, as strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me up against a muscular chest. It was time for bed, my body was exhausted and all I wanted was to curl up against my masked serial killer for the night.

Things were looking up again, but there was still a bit of worry in the back of my mind that this wasn't the last time I was going to get hurt in one of his fits or rage. We'll have to cross that bridge when when we get to it.

AN: Hey everyone, sorry this chapter took so long to come out with. I haven't been in a horror movie mood. I hope it has just enough violence and emotional torment for all of you. If you hadn't noticed, I like to focus on the more mushy part of the romance… not the potential danger.