Husband... Husband.

Willow never thought he'd have that word directed to himself, but now... They were his world...

He was a normal kid once, he mused, not that killing animals was normal, but did it matter at any point? He had grown up a terror, a terror who was constantly mistaken for his angel of a twin. He had't meant to kill his brother, that was a funny accident caused by being no contact with his only existing family for so long he didn't even know he was alive untill he had already strangled the guy for a fat paycheck. That guy... The brother who had pretended he didn't exist for fifteen years now... He didn't even recognise the face staring back at him, nor did he feel sad. But he did find out something intresting...

His perfect brother had gotten out of the foster system into a rich family, he was told that much, but he was never told he wasn't adopted, but married. Married to that family's daughter, and she looked so pregnant in the pictures in his wallet... Fuck. Okay, she didn't look all that happy, at all, but she'd surely notice her husband had left her while pregnant with their kid and would call the police, he needed more time to clean the scene... Thankfully he had murdered the guy on the wide backyard pool, so he could just... Hide him in the shed and take his place for a while...

He took his dead brother's clothes, styled his hair and held his breath. Thankfully they looked alike engouth for no one to notice... He hoped.

​

"... If you're going to yell at me some more--" The woman who was by the livingroom as he opened the door was crying, her ginger hair was chopped so unevenly it look like someone had cut it by tearing each individual strandand and most important of all, her blue eyes were cloudy, she couldn't see... She couldn't see... And they just had a fight... That almost had Willow cheering, it was way too much luck...

"... Look, i'm sorry i yelled at you earlier..." He started, doing his best to copy the sweet brother he remembered from his childhood, how did the perfect guy act, anyway? He took a gamble and reached for her, wiping the tears off of her shocked expression with his thumb delicately "Please forgive me... I'll try and be better, love, i promise..."

The poor rich missy broke down crying, and for a second he thought he had fucked it all up, but then she smiled, she smiled innocently like the pure, clueless little angel she was "... It's the first time you call me love, Sammy..."

Sammy? Of course his brother had changed names... He stammered "Y-Yeah um... I... I did promise i'll do better for you... Just trying to show i mean it."

"You have no clue how happy this makes me... Oh Samuel... I promise you can get that trip once the baby is born, okay? I-I'll find a maid, something, a-anything just... Don't leave me alone right now... I'm scared..."

Trip? That's why they were fighting? His brother, his "angel" of a brother wanted to leave his heavily pregnant, blind wife home to go on a trip while she was clearly about to give birth? That was unimaginable... He reached down and carefully placed a hand on her very pregnant belly, leaving a gentle pet there "... Forget that stupid trip, love, it wasn't that important anyway and i don't want to go anymore... Let's get you to bed, okay? You've already stressed engouth for the rest of your pregnancy..."

​

He cooed, leading that frail woman upstairs, she went on her own the rest of the way and he just followed along, their room was the first door in the hallway, just across from a door with a name etched on it in 3D letters, "Edward", he made sure to remember, baby is a boy and his name is Edward, ugh. He made sure that poor woman was safe in bed, warm, comfortable and sleeping soundly before he started exploring and reading every paper in that damned house, gathering all the information he possibly could. His wife's name was Helen, and she really liked books, since most of the books in the house were adapted to braile. He also learned their baby was meant to be born in two weeks or so and panicked, checking the nursery just to be sure they had everything... They didn't.

The next few hours were spent brousing the internet franatically for the best newborn care products and buying a truckload of things for the little boy while he grumbled about what a bad father that stupid brother of his was, then getting off the internet in the early hours in the morning, only to go right back to it just to look up what the hell was a proper breakfast for a pregnant woman.

​

"... You're... Cooking?" The sweet voice was more confused then anything as Helen rubbed the sleep out of her foggy eyes "... You never cooked for me before..."

"Well, that's because i'm shit at it" He chuckled, that wasn't a complete lie, and that little lady was just so endearing... "But i thought you'd want to sleep in, and i could bring you breakfast in bed? So you don't have to come downstairs, but you're already here..."

​

That woman knew, she knew the man standing in the kitchen wasn't her husband, but at that moment she decided... Maybe calling the police wasn't the best idea after all... She could pretend to be clueless, since he seemed so determined to act like her husband, and just... See where this would lead? He was already a better husband than Jasper had ever been to her... So why couldn't she pretend that was her husband, too? He didn't know, but he had just saved her miserable marriage, and she? She had just made the best decision of her life.

Harry, Harry, Harry... You cannot seriously tell me you thought this was a good idea?

Harry's inner voice had a deep rasp to it, like burning coal dragged over a race car. He wasn't schizophreniac or mentally sick, but he had seen the movies.

And the movies stated serial killers had to have an inner voice pushing them around. This he created his own. But as he wasn't technically sick, their relationship was less about slavery and more of a democratically elected list of victims to work his way down.

"It will work," Harry said outloud.

He had forcibly retired the husband through liberal application of excessive force. When the police came breathing down his neck, he replaced him, the wife was so addled by her many pills she didn't see a thing. An isolated, friendless couple, and the police didn't ask for anything, as technically, there had been no body found. Just a weird loner who had scared the neighborhood.

Now what?

"We play along, until the whole matter is forgotten," said Harry, cooking an omelette in an unknown kitchen for his temporary wife. The last few bits of the late husband had been cooked in the dishes and fed to the family dog who really didn't mind the change in management.

"You never cooked for me like that," said Liz, with the tone of a drug addict.

Harry nodded along. That night, he helped Liz to bed when her legs started to shake, and held her tight until she fell asleep.

No killing.

"No," targets had to be picked carefully. Assholes, leeches, horrible people and boy scouts. Fuck the boy scouts. Liz was already damaged, poor thing.

"Hon?" She asked in the morning.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you."

He had cleaned the house. What a mess, a pig stall without the glorious pigs to give it some style.

She's falling for you again. It's going to rekindle your love, and it will be the best sex ever, If there wasn't a caveat.

"Not again, it's the first time she's loving me."

We're headed for a catastrophe, you should leave.

"No, I like the place. And her late husband started to work on the yard, it has potential."

He worked in the yard, and got to know his dickish neighbor.

Days later, Liz came back from her doctor's appointment, as usual. Less usual was the decision the doctor had taken to get her off several pills, as her state had improved.

I told you

"I know, I know," replied harry, getting changed in a hurry to disappear, before Liz's less addled mind recognized the fool play.

"Hon?" She said, appearing suddenly before him, sizing him up and down. Harry braced for impact.

"I made dinner," she said with a wink, and left for the kitchen.

What?

"What?"

Dinner was excellent.

Somehow, harry felt that Liz, deep down, knew the truth. Something about her, she was smart, there were subtle hints that she had seen through him and didn't mind.

Subtle hints like her helping you change the photo on her husband's ID? Or her various ways to convince her family that you were always here and haven't visited enough? Or her hiding you from her best friend because she knew she wouldn't buy it? Subtle?

"Let me believe I'm smart for just a second, will you?"

Days went by. He cooked, helped her in various ways, showed attention in all the little things. She replied in kind. They didn't sleep together, this was taboo.

"Not him, I like him?" She said one day, out of nowhere while cooking an arm.

"Is this the neighbors arm?" He asked, "and who did you talk to?"

She paused, hasn't expected him.

"Yes," she said tentatively.

He fished a crumply list out of his pocket and looked it over. The neighbor was there. He showed it to Liz.

They both smiled.

I told you, said the voice later, it would be the best sex ever.

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