23. "You up to play some chicken?"

I couldn't stand the way he would talk to me, as if I was somehow beneath him."We are GOING to do this." He would say, as if I wasn't a free state, or even worse, as if I was something that he owned. It was infuriating. Through all the years, he still saw me as nothing more than a pawn he could play with.

And I let him do it.

I let him take advantage of my love for him. He knew I loved him, he knew I was the only person who would ever love him, and yet he didn't care. He tossed me around, throwing me this way and that, wherever I was most convenient for him. And I let him. God I would have let him do anything to me.

"Get on your knees." He would say, and I obey.

"I don't like this peasant, get rid of him for me, Liet." And the way he would say Liet, I felt there could be no objection, despite that man's picky taste getting him in more trouble than I could truly get him out of, and yet I always did.

I always saved him.

"Let's play a game, Liet."

"I don't want to play a game."

"Sure you do."

Feliks pulled out the gun, seemingly from nowhere, though I knew that he must have been planning this. He sat at the game table, where chess was set up, though I knew that would not be the game he had planned.

"Put that away, you'll hurt yourself." I say, but he doesn't hear my plea, my cry out that I did not want this sort of game.

He plays with the gun, growing more careless, and I obediently sit down, knowing he would not stop until I joined him.

"Maybe I like, want to get hurt." The man said in a seductive tone, as if this really was just some sort of game.

I sit stiff as he spins the barrel loosely.

"I think you know this game well, like, from your time with Ivan?" The man's valley girl talk was not fitting for his dark words, but Feliks was never one to try and change to fit the atmosphere. I look at the gun, before looking at Feliks.

"We cannot play such games." I tell him.

"And why not? We can't die, not that we haven't tried." His words make me wince as he looked nearly bored at the subject of attempting to kill themselves.

"I don't want you to get hurt…" I say, but what I want to say is 'Why would you make me play such a game?' Did my well being not matter?

"I don't care, you first." He says, tossing the gun at me. I catch it, but when the cold metal hits my fingers I shiver.

"I don't want to…" I say in a low voice, knowing better than to try and argue at full force. He only got a kick out of it, and I didn't want to face the idea that if I did put up a fight, he might take it upon himself to just shoot me instead.

"It's just a game, Liet."

And when he says my name, I can do nothing but oblige. I slowly raise the gun to my head. My hand is shaking from nerves. I know it can't kill me, and yet I still face such an uncertainty. It would hurt, like hell, and I knew that it could leave long term damage, that not even mortality could fix.

But I pull back the cock anyways, because none of that matters. I pray that I get the game over with, and just shoot myself now, but when I pull the trigger, I hear nothing but a click.

"Aw, too bad." Feliks says, making my eyes flash at him with hate. Oh how I could loathe that man. His bright green eyes stare back at me, and I feel myself whither at his looks.

I loathed his beautiful eyes that pulled me back into his game.

He pressed the barrel to his head and winked at me, a grin on his face. I stood stiff. I didn't want to watch him shoot himself. I wouldn't be able to stand him fall to the ground, pooling in blood. I had seen that many times before, enough to be able to describe how well his bright blonde hair contrasted with the red.

He didn't hesitate at all. Simply cocked and pulled. The click filled the air, followed by my sigh of relief.

"Damn, I was like, hoping for it." He said, almost sounding like me, but his reasons were selfish. He would take pleasure in knowing I would have to clean up his mess, whereas for me, I wanted to get shot to save him that fate.

"Don't say such depressing things." I tell him, as he hands me the gun. There are six slots in the barrel, now on shot three. I didn't hesitate as I held the gun to my temple. It felt familiar now, as if it belonged pressed against me. As if I was meant to do this. I cocked the gun, and pulled the trigger, wincing slightly once more, but heard nothing but a click.

"Intense." Feliks said, and his eyes matched his statement as he eagerly reached for the gun. He truly wanted to be shot, it seemed. I handed it to him.

"Haven't you had enough fun?" I ask, and he shakes his head no.

"Can never have too much fun Toris." He says, before pressing the gun to his chest. My eyes widen, and I feel my heart skip a beat. As if this was symbolic, but it wasn't, it was just him toying with me more.

Cock, trigger, click. Feliks looks at the gun, before sighing.

"Damn thing, guess it just wants to shoot you." He said, tossing the gun at me. I catch it with more ease than before. I pray that this is the shot. I close my eyes and hold it to my temple again. I open them once to look at Feliks. He is staring at me with wide eyes, almost as if he is worried for me.

"Why don't we just quit the game now…" I beg, not because I'm scared, but because I don't wish to see him look like that, as if he held actual concerns for me.

"Shoot." He tells me in a low tone, and I do so, loathing the click that followed from the gun.

Feliks looked scared, as if he hadn't been expecting that he would be facing the bullet.

"O-oh…" He says quietly. I lower the gun down, and my eyes grow soft. He suddenly realized the consequences of his game.

"I guess, I…" He starts, staring at the gun with sad eyes. I want to laugh. It served him right, that he would face this fate, after his bragging and his demand that they continue the terrible game. But I stay silent on that.

"Let's just stop…" I suggest, hoping he just agrees. But he shakes his head.

"No way, not after telling you to keep playing." He says, and he almost sounds genuine. He shakes his head.

"I guess I deserve this." He says in a tearful tone. I look at him with fear.

"No…" I whisper quietly.

I always got him out of trouble.

I pressed the gun back to my head and quickly pulled the trigger. There was no cry from Feliks, no remorse, no tearful cries to stop.

Simply a click.

My eyes grow wide when I'm not shot, and I stare at the gun in utter surprise.

"Oops, guess I forgot to load the gun." He says, before leaning close. My eyes fill with regretful tears as I watch him near me. He was testing me.

He was always testing me.

"You still love me." He said quietly, and gently kissed my lips. I don't kiss back, barely feel any warmth from the other body. I just stare in defeat. He knew. He knew he had me locked up.

And he was never letting me go.