Itoshii hito
Waking up, I notice the bed is cool. He's already gone. Funny I can't call it our bed anymore, it just feels so....fake.
Everything is his now. I live with him in his apartment, and sleep next to him in his bed. Sometimes I'm not allowed in the bed at all. But I understand. He just needs to feel superior and in control. More frequently than before, I dared to think bitterly.
The cold floor feels bad. It reminds me of Akamaru, and the hours I'd lay on the floor playing with him.. I still feel horrible for giving him up. The little furball helped me through a lot. I never had friends, but at least he was always there to comfort me in my hour of need. When I found out Lee was allergic, I had to make the hardest choice of my life.
But I knew Lee'd take care of me.
And he does. He's always defending me, because I can't fight anymore. I'm useless without Akamaru by my side. "Drunken fist fighting style", I'd think bitterly. You see, I am the 'co-creator' of that technique. More like test dummy. There're still some marks of that night left. And many other nights too.
flashback
It was one of those cool autumn nights, and I was in "our" living room waiting for him to come home from the academy. He was late, and usually that meant one thing and one thing only. And as I thought, some ten minutes from that he came crashing through the door, too drunk to walk properly. I helped him get his sandals off and supported him as he made his way to the bedroom. He was obviously angry at something or someone, but too drunk to express it properly.
He sure liked to drink. I didn't mind really, but he was really aggressive and irritable when drunk. Anyway, after I helped him onto the bed, I left, closing the door quietly behind me. I seated myself on the couch and closed my eyes, sighing quietly and rubbing my neck. I think I fell asleep there, because maybe half an hour later I woke up to find Lee standing next to the sofa, extremely pissed and still drunk off his ass.
"Hey Kiba, you wanna hear something fun? Some guys at the bar told me you've been sleeping around with just about everyone. You got something to say to that?"
His speech was still slurry, but that's what I think he said.
Of course I was totally gob-smacked. I hadn't even left the house for a few weeks, except to get some food from the store.
"Wha---what?! No way in hell! You know I love you, Lee.. Why would I want to sleep with some random guys you hang around with?!"
Maybe I shouldn't have raised my voice. Maybe it was my over-defensive attitude that made him lash out. Anyway, before I'd noticed anything, he'd hit me. He'd actually hit me. Hard enough to leave me somewhat dizzy. I just stared at the total stranger he'd suddenly become. After a few seconds of silence, he seemed to snap back to reality.
"Oh god, Kiba...what have I...I'm so sor...Are you ok? I'm so..." His voice sounded distant, but at least he was the familiar (though drunk) Lee again. I didn't say a word, I just kept staring, and felt tears starting to form. He reached out to touch the already visible bruise, but I flinched away from his hand. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back, not noticing how utterly terrified I was. He wiped away the tears that were leaking from my eyes, maintaining constant eye contact. I'd started feeling just a little bit better, but then I made one horrible mistake. He suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace, but I panicked. I screamed out loud and twisted to get away from him. With a thud I fell from the couch and ended up on the floor. I looked up at him, seeing his rage-contorted face. I tried scooting away, but he was faster even though he was so drunk. Before I could even move an inch, he was on top of me, screaming like he'd gone totally insane.
"You don't even want me to touch you now?! Fuck you slut, seems you've gotten your share of action from those 'random guys' of yours! Did they fuck you good? Did you like them inside you better than me?!" his face was all red from the screaming... and I'd never been so scared of anyone before.
I didn't have time to answer before his fists crashed into my abs repeatedly. It hurt like nothing I'd ever experienced, and the emotional pain was almost as bad. I don't know how many times he'd hit me before I started to fight back. I managed to punch him twice before he grabbed my wrist, twisting it painfully. I heard a faint snapping sound, then my wrist hurt terribly. He didn't even feel my punches, so drunk he was. He sunk his fists into my stomach a few more times before getting up, leaving me crying on the floor. I was totally out of it. I couldn't even keep my eyes open properly. But I saw his leg raise, then felt horrible pain from my left side. After that everything went black.
The next morning I woke up in "our" bed, first noticing a familiar weight on the bed. The blinding pain followed shortly after. I hurt everywhere, especially my wrist, left side and torso. I moved to get up, but only managed to put my head over the edge and dry-heave onto the floor. Noticing that I'd woken up, Lee pulled me back to bed. He was only wearing his green shorts and I noted I was completely naked under the covers. He didn't---No...no way...I was passed out but..he..I...
"I know what you're thinking and no, I didn't." his voice was so soft and quiet.
He gently stroked my cheek, and started planting light kisses over my exposed chest, slowly moving his hand from my cheek to between my legs. "n..no...please, Lee...stop..." I must've sounded so pathetic, but my body wasn't ready for anything like that. He frowned lightly, but stopped soon and got up. He left only to come back from the kitchen in a few seconds, holding a big mug of tea in his hands. Handing it to me, he left the room and closed the door behind him. I managed to drink one small sip before breaking out in tears.
end of flashback
So that was the story behind his famous technique. God only knows how many times he's 'tested' it on me. Sometimes for 'sleeping around', sometimes for 'flirting with his friends' who come over. Of course I never do either.
Although I'm rather sure he's always too drunk to actually acknowledge what he's doing to me.
But I can't understand why he sometimes cries while beating me.
And why he doesn't smell of liquor anymore when he's doing it.
