When he takes her for the first time, she has no idea what is happening, and why, and she is terrified. But she hides her face in the pillow for her sobs not to be audible.
He told her to be quiet. He does not want to hear her voice. He wants to pretend. And she is a good girl.
It hurts, and he makes it even worse by pulling her hair, twisted around his clenched fist. She feels her cheeks burn from humiliation. She wants him to tell her that everything will be all right. But he is silent, and the only sounds she can hear are steady creaking of the bed and his quickened breathing.
And her quiet sobs. But she really tries very hard to be silent.
She heard that it should become better with time, but it never does. He never says any sweet words to her, that she is beautiful and such; to tell the truth, he never says anything then. In fact, he rarely talks to her at all.
True, it becomes less painful; but at the same time it hurts more and more. He constantly invents new ways to humiliate her.
Once, he talks to her when it is finished. She tries to dress herself as quickly as possible; he just stands there, leaning against the wall. Naked. He is never ashamed; she is not sure if he is able to feel shame.
She tries not to look at him. He is just too perfect; so beautiful it hurts.
„Dye your hair."
„...What?", she asks, dumbfounded. She unconsciously touches her long blonde tresses, her only pride, now tangled and sweaty.
„Dye it pink."
She tries very hard not to cry.
The next day, she buys a wig. She is a good girl again.
She tells herself he does not want to hurt her, not really. He just does not understand. He just does not know how it feels.
Or does he? She remembers his look, when he saw that other girl, smiling, laughing, holding hands with someone else, someone so similar to him that it was just too obvious. Same pale skin, same just-a-bit-too-long black hair, same emotionless eyes. She saw his lips, mouthing that one word she learned to hate.
SA-KU-RA.
He then catches her glance, and she looks quickly away, but it is too late. He saw her staring, and it will be worse again tonight.
She closes her eyes and wishes that she also was a delicate flower, and not a pig.
Sometimes, just sometimes, she tries to remember how it was to love him. Sometimes, just sometimes, she thinks that she still does. She tries very hard to love him again.
He needs that, she tells herself. Sometimes, she even believes that.
When he is finished, she tries to tell him that she still cares. But she cannot do that; all she can do is breathe. She tries to move her lips.
„Sasuke", she breathes.
He stiffens. He does not look at her.
„You may go now", he says eventually.
And she does. She is a good girl.
Sometimes, she cries alone, just a bit. Just be a good girl, she tells herself. You'll get your reward eventually. Just be a good girl.
But sometimes, only sometimes, she throws the pink wig behind her bed, and she shouts, and she weeps, and furious tears trickle down her face. Sometimes, she wishes she was not good at all.
~FIN