vagabonddaniel-recordedarchives:

Are you kidding? Of course he has. I was out of my mind with terror the first time I saw Armand. I knew exactly who he was and what he was capable of. Well, I thought I knew. Turns out I vastly underestimated his capacity for cruelty, but I knew enough to fear for my life. Only an idiot with a death wish wouldn’t have found Armand absolutely horrifying. (Yeah, yeah, I know, many people are convinced I was an idiot with a death wish. Maybe they’re not wrong. But I wasn’t that stupid.) 

Seeing him in the crowd, or sitting on the bus, or walking down the street filled me with so much terror that my blood turned to icy slush and I couldn’t breathe. He scared me to death. And I was very, very sure he was going to kill me. Every time I caught even a snatch of red hair or a glimpse of ivory skin, I thought I might die.

So yeah, he scared me beyond words.

Of course, that didn’t last. Things changed pretty quickly. He started to plop down beside me and ask questions, to demand conversation no matter the hour: “Why did man go to the moon again?” “Explain the rules of baseball, Daniel.” “What is a hippy?” And gradually, I stopped being scared. I got lost in the conversations, got sucked in, found myself captivated by this creature whose curiosity and intelligence were unlike anything I’d ever encountered before. God help me, I started to look forward to his appearances, and the fear abated. 

Now he has the capacity to frighten me in different ways. I don’t fear him. I do fearing losing him to ash and dust. I fear breaking things so completely between us that there can be no reconciliation, no good terms to be reestablished. I fear making him loathe me down the marrow of his bones so that that hatred can never be eradicated. I fear living in a world without him. 

But I am not afraid of him anymore, and never will be again. I know his black heart too well.