Synopsis - Grim discovers the cause of Mandy's recent nightmares
Rating - T
Genre - Drama/Romance
A/N - Warnings for adult themes, implied sexual abuse and underage sex. I keep having flashes of inspiration for these two, and I'm toying with a longer tale but for now, for the sake of time, I'm experimenting with shorter fiction.
Mea Culpa
She was breathing like a race horse on the final sprint, her silk covered breasts heaving in a way that normally stoked Grim to nuclear desire. Since they'd begun their secret relationship, he couldn't keep his hands off her.
'Grim!' she mumbled in her sleep, squirming. 'Stop...them.'
Grim quaked like a bucket of icy water had been emptied down his back. Mandy had only started having these nightmares since she'd returned from summer camp after her fifteenth birthday. It had been Grim's idea, the family's last-ditch attempt to inject of some sunshine and niceness into Little Miss Evil.
'Stop it!' she cried, pulling at his ribs until his teeth clacked. He couldn't understand it. He'd never seen Mandy like this.
Curious, Grim sank into her dream. He had to know. He surfaced a few seconds later, his bones shaking with rage, his spectral blood boiling. He wanted to disentangle himself, summon his scythe and go hunting. Mandy lurched awake.
'Bonehead! I told you. Never look into my dreams!'
'It's a good thing I did! I'm goin' to tear off their heads with me bare hands, girl!'
'Why? You don't care about me.'
'That's where yer dead wrong, child,' he declared, shaking with unspent fury. 'Mandy, why didn't yer tell me? I'd have been a lot more gentle with yer.'
'Maybe I didn't want you to be gentle,' she said.
'Noone lays hands on me girl,' he thundered, his grip scorching the sheets.
'Grim...unless you want to help me scratch an itch only you can reach...go back to sleep,' she hesitated. 'A-and...if you leave me tonight, I'll...I'll use your bones for soup,' she finished lamely.
Mandy buried herself in the comforter, the picture of nonchalance, but Grim knew her well enough to tell she was hurting inside. This is all my fault! He thought, his dusty heart hurting. I should have stayed with her.
'You don't know how to make soup,' he fizzed. 'Yer can't even cook.'
'I can punch,' she threatened him, but he knew she wouldn't. Muttering, Grim gathered her into his arms. She clutched his ribs, hiding her face in his bony neck.
If yer think I can't hear yer crying, woman, yer so wrong. His sockets cast a furnace glow over the silk pillow. When she was sleeping soundly, he summoned his scythe and slipped into a vortex of burning hate to find the boys who'd hurt her.
