Re: The Pool
There was something in him that said this wasn't something he did too often anymore, or not like this, when she kissed him. But h liked the kiss as a way to seal things, to lock her in and keep her. Pretty, breakable things like her should be locked in sturdy cases and never touched.
It didn't occur to him to wonder why she would allow herself to be locked away when they hardly knew each other, and he didn't imagine why she would subject herself to imprisonment on his behalf. He only knew that he wanted to add her to his collection, isolated from him, but safe, and he could only bring danger to her if he stayed. He had done it before. Being around him was a risk.
He said nothing, did the boy with the tears of blood. He brushed his forehead against hers, a tender gesture, and then he released her hand with a last squeeze, reassuring. He would be back, and he would bring company. Now that he had one, he would need to add more to his case, after all. She would be lonely down here, all on her own. He didn't want anyone to suffer.
The liquid released its grip on him, and he kicked loose as easily as if the sludge was no more than clear water. At the edge of the pool, he levered himself out, and shed the black stuff from his skin as smoothly as water rolling off oiled duck feathers.