The Line • Twenty One Pilots

"Keep the memories of who I was before"
was all you managed to whisper.

A long time ago, you had seen her pop up on your dating app. The greatest hero of your time, and with that, your greatest enemy, as the well-known villain who found her pleasure in pure gore. You thought that this would be your chance to lure her in the perfect trap. So you swiped and matched, texted a bit until she invited you to a pretty nice restaurant. You went looking your best. For her, that was your first meeting, but in your world, you knew her well enough. But she couldn’t know, of course, you were always covered in that mask. To your surprise, it was a good date. She was nice, but that wasn’t a surprise, she was a hero, of course, she was nice. It was rather her way of behaving around you that made it so good. As well as it went, that didn’t change anything. Yet there, you didn’t get the chance to cross the line. So you went for another and another one, and when you finally had the chance, your mind was too captured by her. Over and over again, you told yourself that next time, you would do it. Until you didn’t anymore. Until you couldn’t. Until you fell in love. And yet, you didn’t stop dancing on the line. You couldn’t. It had become your comfort, your addiction, a dangerous addiction to the gory darkness. But of course, she didn’t either. So again and again, you found yourself fighting against her, covered by that goddamn mask.

That mask that she had just managed to rip off your face. It was tightly wrapped around her trembling fingers. Her pretty eyes flickered over every feature of your face, taking in the details she had fallen in love with, so clear to her as if light was shining on you. "No…"
she whispered, her trembling voice barely audible. You thought you were fully prepared, but no, you had never really faced your fears before. You wanted to hide away from her.
You didn’t want her to see your final form.