Outside, in West Clocktown, the sound of the Clock boomed out the hour six times. Twilight was settling on the city, slow and pink. In the Mayor’s offices, Chester was leaning against the side of his desk, drumming his fingers lightly across the side of it. He stared out of the window, watching snow flurries spiral down from the chilly January skies. His eyes were shifting, a cold gleaming grey faded to a pitch black, then back. It was odd. He kept blinking, even knowing it was futile. When Annalise came into his office, he stared at her hard, and his eyes ceased their shift, settling firmly in a cold grey. He tossed his long braid of faded gold hair over his shoulder, and wrapped it around his left arm, carefully. She shrugged her grey wool coat off of herself, and tossed already melting flakes off of her hair.
Not looking at her he asked, “Why must you play whore?”
Annalise blinked. “What do you want, Chester?” She said it petulantly, but there was a slight warble to her voice.
Chester approached. “I will say it on no uncertain terms that when I hear news of the men you have slept with, it makes me furious.”
Annalise swallowed. She could not find words to form a reply.
Chester narrowed his eyes and slid his hand across Annalise’s jugular.  
“Why do you hold such a power over me?”
He could feel a shiver running across her skin.
“You have bound me up, and tangled so many men along the way. What is it about you?” he was circling her, almost predatory.
“I don’t...”
“Hush, little one,” he said, in almost a whisper.
He stopped in front of her and grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to look up into his eyes.  
“Why must other men love you? There is nothing here to love.”
He moved his hand and outlined her eye socket. “These are dull and faded and teary.”
He ran his hand down her neck, resting it on her upper collar bone.  “Your breasts are too small and your stomach too round.”
He moved his hand, and through the fabric of her skirt, she could feel his long forefinger trace circles on her upper leg. “Your thighs are thick and your feet are small and your wrists are completely disproportionate.”
He backed away from her and gave her a slow look, processing each imperfection of her body. “You are worthless as an object of desire.”
The vehemence of this statement hit her full force. She made an effort, but it was useless to hold the tears at bay. They slid out of her eyes and ran across her face.
Chester cocked his head and watched her silently sobbing for a few moments. Then he moved towards her, and caught a tear with the tip of his finger. His face was unreadable. Her milky blue eyes swam, trying to capture what he was thinking.
“You are,” he said quietly, pressing his body close to hers, “so beautiful.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, gently, carefully, almost as if unsure of how he should accomplish the task.
He moved, and pushed her dark tangle of hair away from her shoulder, and planted soft kiss after kiss on her neck and shoulder.
“Chester,” Annalise’s voice was weak, almost defeated. He could feel goose-bumps on her skin, and he kissed her more deeply.  
“I frighten you,” he said, pulling away from her skin. “Is that correct?”
Annalise nodded her head almost imperceptibly. “Chester. Please, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Force me, and pull me, and prod me.” Tears were glittering in her eyes, but she tried admirably to fight them. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
Chester loosened a string at the throat of her dress. “I want everything, Annalise.”
She buried her hand in his hair.  “Chester,” her voice was small.
Behind her, a chair sprang up from what had been a stray piece of paper. He pushed her roughly into it. The back of it was upright, and stiff. Chester straddled her. He seemed to be analyzing her face, shrugging slightly to make up for the difference in height.  His long braid unwound slightly from his arm.
“I want all of you,” he said quietly.
She swallowed hard. “You know how I feel about you, Chester.” She said quietly.
“You show it so oddly.”
“So do you,” she replied, staring hard into his grey eyes.
He grinned at her, pressing even closer, his hands on either armrest, pinning her back.
“You never fight me.” He stated. “You could.”
“You only desire to fight me,” she replied, finding strength. “You don’t have to.”
“Kiss me,” Chester commanded.
“Kiss me first.”
They stared hard at one another. It was strange. But being honest with themselves, they both wanted it to go on forever.
“You have goose-bumps,” Chester pointed out. “Does anyone else give them to you?”
Annalise did not break eye contact with him. “No one.”
“Do you love me, Annalise?” he asked, as if inquiring about the weather.
“More than life itself.” She said fiercely. “Do you love me?”
He looked at her, curiously. “Why do you bother to ask?”
“The same reason you do.”
“Yes,” he said dismissively. “Yes, of course I do.”
“You what?” Annalise asked, digging in deep. “You’ve never said it.”
“Said what?”
“That you love me.”
“I love you.” He answered quietly. “I love you.”
“Why? Aren’t I worthless?”
Chester’s gaze suddenly faltered. He looked back at her. Annalise’s milky eyes were glimmering with unspilled tears, but for whatever reason, she was not backing down. It was immensely interesting to him.
“You are my daughter,” he said quietly. “And my sister. The only woman in the entire world.”
This moment of honesty was difficult for both of them to handle. They were not used to it. It was painful.
Annalise ran her hands up his neck, behind his ears, and pulled him closer. She pressed her mouth to his and kissed him, if nothing else than to end the moment. She pushed loose strands of his long faded hair away from his face, and closed her eyes.  She kissed him for a long time, tasting his mouth, then pulled away. She had been holding her breath for some reason, and gasped. Chester watched her for a while.
“If I were to ask, would you marry me?”
Annalise smiled softly, as if they were some sort of normal romantic couple, and he had muttered a passing flirtation. “I don’t know.”
“At the end of the day, I think that you do know.”
Chester pulled up from her, and stood.
Annalise looked strangely exhausted. “What is it you want so madly from me? I’ve... I’ve given you my body, hold over my feelings, everything. I’ve killed people for you.”
Chester cocked his head, he was straightening the books on his desk absently. “I merely want you.”
Annalise lowered her head until it touched her knees. “I’m so frightened.”
Chester pressed a button on the silvery box on his desk.
“Tea.” He ordered.
He sat at his desk, and straightened his clothing, carefully.
“Has it occurred to you that we cannot carry on like this forever?”
“Of course,” Annalise answered, raising her head. “We’ll either murder one another or...”
Chester’s eyes caught the light. “That’s a very fascinating ‘or.’”
“One I give an irrational amount of thought to.” Annalise replied.
“Is this while you tangle yourself in the arms of other men?”
She shrugged. “On occasion.”
   “Marry me, Annalise,” he said it almost urgently. “You could easily end this ridiculous cycle between us.”
“Or, you could simply stop hurting me, and then I would stop hurting you in retaliation.”
“Where’s the fun in that, when we could legally go on hurting one another with no major changes to our lives?”

She opened her mouth to reply, when Chester’s secretary arrived, carrying a tray of tea accouterments. She stared out of the corner of her eye at Annalise, set the tray down, then shook her head and hurried out.
“No one even knows what goes on between us,” Annalise said quietly. “Whatever goes on between us. I’m invisible to all prying eyes, as per your own request. Marrying me would hardly be a good political move.”
Chester put his head in his hands. “I could have any number of people assassinated with nearly no repercussions.”
“Why do you want this, all of the sudden?” Annalise asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Because you freely, stupidly sleep with anyone who gives you a kind glance,” Chester said coldly. “And, plenty of men who do not. It is as if you enjoy being hurt.”
“Maybe I adore it.”
“Hardly.”
“Maybe I just crave it,” Annalise said, standing up and moving towards him. “Maybe it’s the only way I’ve ever known attention.”
Chester looked up at her. “What are you suggesting?”
“I have no idea. I’m just antagonizing.”
She picked up a cup and sat on the edge of his desk. She poured hot water in and let the tea steep.
“It’s a bad idea, Chester.” she said, staring into the cup. “A person cannot go against their nature.”
“You suggest, we are destined to go on, like this, fighting for one another’s affections?”
She shrugged. “That is up to you, big brother. You are the villain.”
Chester popped his neck. “Yes. I am.”

Annalise picked up her cup of tea and added cream and sugar. She stirred it. She raised it to her mouth and took a sip. Chester’s hand reached out and grasped her wrist. The tea in her cup teetered, but thankfully did not spill. She looked at him.
“I am losing my eyesight.”
Annalise set the cup down and stared at him. “What?”
“I am losing my ability to see. It occurs in random bursts. Sometimes I can see perfectly and a few minutes later there is nothing.”
Annalise put her hand up to her mouth to hide the tremble of her bottom lip.
“How long has this been happening?”
“A few months.”
She shook her head. “Why did you not tell me? Chester, why haven’t you gone to the Hospitals?”
“Because they will be of no help.”
“It’s the... The thing inside of you.”
He inclined his head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Chester did not answer. Annalise bit her lip. She leaned down and put her arms around him. He remained upright in his desk-chair.
“Chester?”
He did not reply, but she felt his hands against her back. His grip tightened and he laid his head against her.
“My dear,” his voice was soft. “I mean every word I ever say to you.”