Eros: The Obsession

Chapter Nineteen

When Tara kicks him out, the only thing Jun feels is anger. His chest roils, a burning intensity licking its way up his chest and making him seethe with rage. He's never felt such violent urges – especially where Tara is involved – so when the overwhelming need to press her up against the couch and teach the reporter her place comes over him, the only thing Jun can do is grit his teeth, turn tail and flee.

His retreats to his apartment, sitting in silence as darkness surrounds him as he tries to process exactly what has been happening between them. A part of him understands the gist of it – that Tara feels some kind of attraction to it, and that her feelings confuse her, make her feel guilty – but every time he tries to reason our her actions, to decode this hot and cold mood that she seems to flit between, he comes up short.

Nothing she does makes sense. She's not the Tara he had imagined and her anger at him seems so starkly different to what he had anticipated, that it makes him feel a little cheated.

So with his mind racing and his feelings a mess, Jun decides to see the shaman again.

He wakes up the next morning in much the same mood he'd gone to sleep in – angry and vindictive because of Tara's apparent rejection. Moving in a stupor, he barely registers getting ready as he prepares to see the witch, steeling his nerves as memories of their last encounter flash through his mind.

When he steps out of his apartment, he stands in front of Tara's door, chancing a hesitant knock to see if she'll answer. She doesn't. He calls out to her once, voice wavering as his irritation starts to peak. Jun clears his throat and tries again, this time in a calmer, more gentle tone. She still doesn't answer. So, with an irritated huff, he turns on his heels and stalks away.

The trailer park is just as Jun had remembered, littered with dirt as the stale smell of urine wafts up to his nose, making him grimace in disgust. Madam Rosmerta's trailer is towards the edge of the lot, decorated in a slew of beads and crystals, the windows all blacked out to hide the inside from prying eyes. The door to her caravan is open but Jun hesitates once he nears it.

His mind races with memories of that day, of the strange pressure that had crushed his chest while simultaneously filling his lungs and body with a foreign darkness. His limbs begin to tremble, fingers twitching as his breathing becomes short. It doesn't feel the same, but the ghost of fingers seem to wind around his throat, constricting his air.

Jun spins on his heels, gasping for breath as he hunches over himself. His head spins, dizzy with the rush of emotions and the lack of air. Frightened tears spring to his eyes and he considers just leaving without answers. And then –   

"I see you're back, sugar," comes a voice behind him, frail with age and sultry in cadence.

Jun stiffens, pushing himself upright as he comes face to face with Madam Rosmerta. She looks much the same as she had when they had first met, with her dirty blonde, dreadlocked hair tied and stuffed into a colorful dook, and her body draped in flimsy materials that give nothing of her form away. Her face, however, is a little different.

She looks youthful, less wrinkles curling around her skin and a glimmer to her eyes that hadn't been there before. Her head tilts to the side, a coy smile tugging on her lips as she says, "You don't look so good."

"Oh, really?" Jun quips in a dry tone. "I hadn't noticed."

"You gonna come inside or would you like to stay there in the dirt?"

Jun narrows his eyes before scoffing. He strides past her, trying to hide the fact that he presses himself closer to the wall to avoid touching her. Still, even as he passes, he feels chills run down his spine, the feeling as though he's being dissected suddenly passing over him.

Madam Rosmerta chuckles, following him inside as she wanders over to the kitchen area. "Tea?" she asks, pulling down a few chip porcelain cups and rusted spoons.

Jun grimaces in distaste. "No, thanks. I didn't come here for small talk."

"You came here because the spell didn't work the way you wanted it to," she quips in a teasing tone. "Am I right?"

"I'm not even sure it worked at all," Jun bites out with a roll of his eyes. "All it's done is give me f****d up dreams. "

"Oh, trust me," she says in a dark tone, "It definitely worked."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It always works," she shrugs, spinning around to give him a sharp, cat-like glare. "And your dreams are evidence of that."

"How so?"

"You want me to explain the intricacies of black magic to you?" she drawls.

"Worried that I won't believe your bullshit?" Jun quips. It's the wrong thing to say.

Her gaze goes dark, something dangerous looming in them as her lips curl into a predatory smile. Jun feels the air around him grow heavier, making his head spin and his lungs work.

"I think there's a part of you that already believes," she tells him. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Jun blinks, and just like that, the air is lighter, his breathing evening out again. He coughs, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "So, what did it do, exactly?"

"Exactly what you wanted," she shrugs, sauntering over to him with her tea. She takes a seat opposite him, leaning in and Jun gets a whiff of something flowery, something earthy.

"Meaning?"

"You wanted her to want you," Madam Rosmerta explains. "And now she does."

"She also hates my guts," Jun scoffs.

"That's your own fault, my dear."

He narrows his eyes in indignation, lips curling into an irritated grimace. "How?"

"You didn't take her feelings into consideration when you bargained her soul for affection, did you?"

"What do you mean, her soul?"

"You gave me her essence," the witch explains, "Not yours. She was the one who needed to be altered."

"Don't you need permission for something like that?" he asks, brows furrowed in disapproval.

Madam Rosmerta chuckles, leaning back to take a sip of her tea. "That's just an old wives tale. No, They don't need permission. And They work according to their own standards."

"And who exactly is this 'they'?"

She grins then, animalistic and brutal. "You don't want to know the answer to that."

Jun shivers, a trickle of fear running up his spine at the dark tone of her voice. He decides that he doesn't want to know, so he nods, swallowing around the fear now lodged in his throat. "So, what, she hates me and loves me at the same time?"

"Probably," The witch nods. "I take it that wanting you have royally f****d with her life before you?" Jun nods in confirmation. "I thought as much. Well, nothing can be done, I'm afraid."

"You can't undo the spell?" he asks, an entitled air to his words.

She tsks at his comment, rolling her eyes as she waves her hand. "You don't just undo black magic, boy. What you've asked, it's permanent. However, I can offer you a solution for the dreams." Jun perks up, listening attentively as she continues. "You and your darling have been linked, tied together in soul and spirit; it's why you're sharing dreams together."

"What do they mean, though?"

"Nothing per se. They're echoes of her growing desire, of the spell's effect."

"She desires to be eaten by me?" He asks with furrowed brows.

The witch snickers, shaking her head at his words. "She desires to be consumed by you, in the metaphorical sense, I presume, unless she's into some strange kinks. Right now, they're probably as intense as they are because she's fighting it. Once she gives in, wholly accepts you and her desire for you, it'll get easier to handle."

"Will they stop?"

Madam Rosmerta grimaces. "No, I'm afraid that is the cost of your burden."

"And her soul?" Jun asks, "What about her soul?"

The witch waves her hand in a blasé dismissal. "Nothing you'll have to worry about in this life."

The walk back to Jun's apartment is pensive, the man lost in thought. He wants to believe that he had been skeptical from the start, that he hadn't believed in things like black magic and love spells but as he looks back, Jun admits that a part of him had wanted to believe that it had worked.

And now, he's not so sure.

He doesn't know how to process the information he's been given, how to approach Tara in a way that would get her to choose him – wholeheartedly and without regret. He knows it'll be a challenge because of her pesky morals and her guilt holding her back, but he surmises that there has to be a way to get her to accept him.

Jun is so preoccupied with his musings that he completely misses the fact that his apartment door is ajar. He pushes through, not registering anything around him as he makes his way inside. It's only when he hears a muffled curse coming from the direction of his bedroom, that Jun realizes the situation he's in.

With a jolt, he comes back to the present, eyes narrowing in warning as he stalks over to the kitchen where he keeps his steel baseball bat for such occasions. He knows it won't do much  – especially if the person who has broken into his apartment belongs to Montesi's group  – but it's something. So with bated breath, he stoops down and pulls it out, making sure not to make a single sound.

He crouches low, steps light and careful as he works his way through the apartment, to where he can hear the distant shuffling of feet. It's coming from his bedroom and Jun's brows furrow in confusion, wondering who could possibly want to snoop around there. When he rounds the corner, he understands.

Ren hunches over his bed, and Jun makes out his private collection of photographs spread out on the sheets.

"What the f**k are you doing?" he snarls angrily, walking up to the man and wrenching him back.

Ren goes sprawling into his drawers, back hitting the wood as he gasps in shock. "You sick, perverted f**k!" he growls, brows drawn together in anger. "How long have you been stalking her?"

Jun chuckles, a cruel smile curling onto his lips. He glances down at his collection  – photographs of Tara at work, with her friends, in the bath, and even some with her fingers deep inside herself ­ – before looking back to the man in front of him. "Do you like them?"

Ren scoffs, pushing himself up to his feet. "Not as much as Tara would, I bet," he says. Jun takes it for what it is  – a threat.

His posture stiffens, anxiety pitter-pattering through his heart. "You that angry that your girl wants me more than she wants you that you'd try f**k up my chances?" Jun asks defensively.

"You don't have any chance with her," Ren growls. "Not when she finds out about this."

"How did you find out, anyway?" he replies, trying to by time to formulate a plan.

"She told me about you two, about the f****d up things that she feels for you and I knew something was wrong."

"So you broke into my apartment to snoop around my things for answers?"

"Lucky I did," Ren scoffs. "And now she'll know what a creep you are."

Jun rolls his eyes, a cruel grin twisting his features. "That won't stop her from feeling the way she does about me," he scoffs, and suddenly, the answer to Jun's problems reveals itself in the form of a desperate Ren, in over his head and clueless about what he's walked in to. "You know what, tell her," he drawls with a cocky grin. "Let's see how she reacts."