In Red.
Warning. A mature tale.
A.N inspired by In Red by Slawa on Deviant Art. The image shocked me and repulsed me the first time I saw it. Look if you dare. Read if you are mature.
Disclaimer. Set within the Harry Potter world of which copyrights are held by others.
x
I take the blade. It is a thing of beauty a razor edge shining in the light.
I draw it slowly up my arm. Letting it find its own depth. I hiss. Sucking the air in through my teeth. It's good to feel the pain. It brings the emotional and the physical into the same place.
The cut is clean, cleaner than my life. I watch the blood as it seeps down my arm, the little rivulets it forms and then drips down.
I don't want it to hit the floor to drip. It will mean more cleaning and possibly questions. This in my thing, my private thing. Me and the blade together.
I take out my wand and cast Tergeo followed by Episkey. I put some essence of dittany on a cloth and run it over the cut. It fades away to nothing.
This is a practice. I'm getting ready. Once I can master the spells silently, then I shall stop flirting with the blade. Then we can make love. My knife is patient. It knows I'm faithful that I will come back.
I'm the one who is eager, who wants this now. Too soon risks discovery, so I shall practice again.
I'm still cutting on the back of my arms. I don't want to hit a vane to bleed to death. I'm just letting the pain out. Letting it go.
That first incision, it hurts so good. The knife easily parts my skin. The contrast of my pale white skin and the red of my blood. I wish I could let it drip, to pool on the floor. I hate having to stop it to not let it have any freedom, to keep it confined but for now that is the way it must be.
I cast my spells. I clean up the evidence and I hide my lover away.
x
It's a new week. I can cast the spells I want silently now. It's time to stop flirting. It's time to embrace my lovers. I have more than one blade now. My knife is still here as is a razor. I am ready for my date. I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is specially coloured for tonight. I stand and slip out of my dress.
The moment is right I'm locked away no one can intrude on us. First, I hold hands. I carelessly take the blade cutting my fingers as I pick it up. I trail it along my arm. Watching in fascination as the blood flows and drips. I let some drips fall on the floor others into the bath I have run. I love watching blood flow through water. Sinking down. Faintly discolouring it. This is all playful flirting now. I've been here before.
I want to go somewhere new. Deeper. I leave the bath and head for the mirror. Here are my razor blades. I watch myself. Pale skin, pale hands, shaking as I pick one up. I don't know if it's anticipation or fear.
I watch the girl in the mirror. She puts the razor into her mouth. She holds the blade vertically. Gently she closes her teeth on it. I take my hand away I don't want anything blocking my sight of this. The blade is held between my teeth.
Then I clamp down.
The pain is all I dreamed. All I hoped it would be.
