Tonight. He's coming tonight. And today was a rough day. But then, everyday is a rough day to him. Not unless he's ditching class and gets away with it or he gets to hang out with Demyx. But lately, Demyx has only seen hospital walls and the nurses won't allow Axel to go and visit his boyfriend. This outrages him. So Axel takes it out on me. He comes every night to relieve tension and anger. But the worst nights are when he has a good day and he decides to "spare" me. Those nights I wish for nothing but death. Every creak causes my mind to wrack around and every pair of headlights from a car passing by causes my heart to leap out. I know it's pathetic. I just want to cease this fear.
Fear...That doesn't cover exactly what I feel. No, it doesn't even cover half. Every night I lie awake, screaming into my pillow and crying violently when I hear a tree limb scratch against the windowpanes. I know my parents can hear me. Sometimes I just scream out loud, out into my room, hearing my own voice echo. I know they hear me and they pay no mind. They know what happens up here but they don't want to face it. Still believing their little boy is innocent and happy – sleeping in a wonderland. They don't want to see the cold, hard truth. So they just ignore it. They ignore my screams; my fits; my moans; the cries; the begging; everything...
I'm lying in bed now. The cold creeping into my room doesn't help my state of mind. The blankets feel like rocks and the scent of cookies from down below doesn't smell the same anymore. I'm scared. I'm shivering, hugging myself. It's midnight. The clock across the room bores into my back and I feel it scream at me, telling me it's almost time.
Axel has a certain time when he arrives. Usually ten to fifteen minutes after the dead of night. By then I'm under the covers, as always, tears streaming down my face in anticipation. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I told my parents about this. They'd probably be horrified of me and send me away; not for my safety, but for their dreams. They want a straight-A innocent little boy. Instead they got a straight-C dirtied teenager that looks worse day after day. It's no wonder we barely talk anymore.
The quiet scratching of the windowpanes tear me away from my thoughts. The covers are over my head so I can't see who it is. But it's not like I even have to look. Who else comes into my room at this time of night? I stay perfectly still. My head is resting against the pillow and my knees are drawn up to my chest with my arms wrapped around them. Part of me wonders if Axel will leave if he sees me sleeping. I've only tried it once. He didn't leave. Instead, he stood in the room, watching me, I think. An hour later, when I had thought he left, I moved. Then he pounced on me. Now, five months later, I wonder if he has grown a heart, and he'll leave me alone. I doubt it though. His boyfriend's condition has worsened, causing his heart-wait, scratch that. He has no heart. Which means his activity of abusing me has doubled in the last three months. Now I can't even walk straight, more or less sleep.
Light feet shuffle across my wood floor. There's a small opening in my blankets and I can see his tennis shoes come into view. He's towering over me. Should I move? Should I stay still? Oh God... I think I'm hyperventilating. What do I do...? Will he hit me to wake me? Or will he just stand there? How bad is it going to be tonight? My thoughts are scrambled into nothingness as my comforting sheets are torn away from my limbs. The sudden action causes me to startle and cry out, my hands refusing to let go of the sheets. Axel's eyes meet mine.
At first I notice his eyes. They're as poisonous and green as ever. I've always had a fascination in his eyes. They are so frightening to look at, but at the same time, I couldn't dare to pull mine away. They are like snake eyes; they hold you in their gaze, not even allowing you to breathe. All you can think is, such beautiful eyes...Next thing I notice is his hair. Who wouldn't see his hair? It's much more spiky and messy than yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that day. I am looking more and more horrible day-by-day and it seems he's sharing the same problem. Without realizing it, I've leaned closer to him, studying his whole face now. The only thing that scares me more than his eyes are his lips. Of course, they're the perfect shape, perfect size...almost like a doll's lips. It's as if he were blessed with an absolutely perfect mouth. But that's not what is scaring me. He's... He's smiling. The last time I ever saw Axel smile was the first night he came here. He was smiling at how pathetic I looked. But... why is he smiling now?
"Relax," he whispers; the smile still toying at his lips. He unwinds my hands from the covers and pushes me gently against the bed. My eyes are widen. I can't relax. No, no I can't relax. What is he doing? He- He's planning something! H-He has to! Damn it, what is he doing? I have never seen this side of Axel. I didn't even know this part existed. Then again, he'd have to be like this for someone like Demyx. Demyx is the kind of guy that would freak out over a little cut. Axel would have to have patience and kindness. He never shows me this side of him. I'm like a dirty rag-doll in his eyes. The fake smiles and the fake happiness, he told me once, is just a play. I'm a part of backstage; I'm the one that has to take the beatings; the pain and suffering so Axel can go back out there and give the crowd a smile.
It doesn't dawn on me that I'm being stripped clean of my clothes until I feel an uncomfortable breeze blow against my member. I shudder at the lack of clothing and blink up at Axel. He's watching me with a strange look – I can't tell the emotion – while taking off his shirt and throwing it to the side. I want to ask what he is doing. I want to ask what he's planning on doing; what he's trying to do. Is he playing with me? Axel has a lot of sick jokes, but this might win the rest. He's... being so gentle. It's scaring the fuck out of me.
"Stop," I mumble, going to sit up. He clamps his hands on my shoulders in a rough way. I jump at the feel of them and shudder; becoming more frightened. I-I knew this was a trap! H-He's getting angry! Axel has such a short temper. One wrong move and you'll be in for it. I must have done something. I can see fire in his eyes as he narrows them. Tears are already pushing against my eyeballs, but I blink them away, trying my hardest not to look so weak in front of him. I should be used to this kind of torture; I should already know what ticks him off and what doesn't, but every night feels like the first night.
"Shut up," he growls, crawling on top of me and straddling my waist. One of his hands are holding me down, while his other hand starts trailing soft, delicate circles on my skin and falling down. I shiver under his touch. Days, during class, I've dreamed of this. Not exactly nightmares. No, I've dreamed of this night, where he'd come in and we'd actually make something called "love". He'd dump his boyfriend and we'd be together. I love him already... but in my dreams he'd love me back. He'd try to give me everything I want. I'd be able to sleep again at night and in the mornings, I'd awaken to his sleeping form laying next to mine. I'd look up at his face and think back to these nights and I'd get frightened. But when his eyes opened, I'd realize it was nothing but a nightmare. And I'd smile softly. He'd tell me he loves me.
I'd wake up in class, crying.
"Stop daydreaming, Roxas," he snaps, his fingers already at the base of my arousal. His fingertips graze over the skin; causing it to tighten. I whimper softly-not in pain-but in pleasure. Either he ignores me or hadn't heard me. Either way, his fingers continue to playfully graze down lower and lower until he reaches my tip. I let out a low groan, trying to keep quiet. I am afraid that somebody might hear and charge into the room, messing everything up. But my parents won't care. Nobody else is the house. It's just me, and the rapist above me.
At the same time, two long, slender fingers intrude me. I cry out, withering in pain under his gaze. I squeeze my eyes shut, fearing he might be angered by my outburst. He told me once he didn't like noise. Despite his looks, he said he enjoyed listening to silence more than anything. Which is unlike me – I just can't stand it. I'll begin tapping my fingers, fidgeting around until I finally force myself to turn something on. Axel said he hated hearing me. Reason why I don't talk to him that much. I don't scream anymore. I don't scream at him to let me go; I just endure it until he's gone. That's when my pillow is my comforter, and I wail into it. I imagine arms wrapping around me and petting me, whispering happy things into my ear or promising everything will get better.
I wish I could hear that imaginary voice right now.
Axel mustn't have gotten angry, because his fingers begin pushing around with delicate caution as if he is afraid to hurt me. He begins scissoring me – sharp gasps leaving my throat. His warm breath showers over my face and as I peek one eye open, I'm startled to see his face so close to mine. I've never actually been this close to his face without something happening. Usually he's forcing himself onto me, not allowing me to think as much as now. But now... now I can see every detail in his eyes. They look so dark far away but I'm surprised to see his eyes are actually a light grassy color. It looks like black streams are wrapped around the iris as if he weren't even human. It's probably impossible for someone like him to even be human with that...unnatural red hair or...his figure.
His lips press against mine and I almost melt into the light kiss. It's unbelievable. I knew Axel had to have been gentle to Demyx but I never imagined he had this sort of side. The kiss is like as if it's asking for nothing but love. For comfort. Oh how I want to answer to the kiss, but I'm still a little frozen in shock. Only then when he adds a third finger do I begin to respond, kissing him lovingly, enjoying the feeling I've longed for. He's pleased with my reaction – I can tell.
His actions start to become a little rougher – thrusting his slender fingers farther into me, searching for my prostate, I imagine. I pant and moan with every movement he makes, already getting hot and needy. I pause for a moment, wondering why I'm doing this – why I'm moaning like a whore for this man. I shouldn't like this. He's raped me for months...How could I forget about that in seconds? What's got him changed so much? Will he always be like this? Or is this a one-night deal? No, it can't be just one night. Why would he do such a thing? He's acting so lovingly and-
"A-Ah! Axel!" I scream, feeling his fingers brush against a sensitive bundle of nerves. I can practically hear him smirk as he brushes his fingers very slowly against the muscles, the panting increasing at the stupid teasing. And then it's gone.
My eyelids lift up a little and narrow. Why did he stop? Before I can lift my head to see what he's doing, more or less speak, something much larger than his fingers push against my entrance. An overwhelming feeling of pain and pleasure course through my veins and I let my teeth sink into my lips-an attempt to keep a touch on sanity. That, and to keep quiet. Axel doesn't wait for me to adjust, but he goes slow, as if trying to be sure I'm not in total pain. A rush of gratitude washes over me yet I can't say anything because my tongue is already occupied with something else.
The air is filled with hot moans and pants and eventually Axel picks up speed. His hands grip my hips as he adjusts a little, enough for his next thrust to make me see stars.
"A-Ax-el...!" I shout, all of my sanity dispatching and my hips attempting to shove up to meet his. He doesn't like this though because his fingernails dig into the skin of my waist and it draws out moans. It should hurt me but it's strangely becoming more arousing by the second. All I can think about is how good it feels, how full I feel, how different it is from the other nights. I like this. It's much better than I could ever imagine. For a second, I begin to panic – thinking this might actually be a dream – but as his dick thrusts, once again, into me, I realize this isn't a dream – this is real.
He pants and whispers incoherent nothings into my ear but I vaguely think he said something about "fucking" and "whore". Still, I can't quite think straight myself, so I dismiss the words, letting my head fall back against the sheets. His lips begin nipping at my neck, an action that used to frighten me. Now it's nothing but pleasurable. He bites hard on my pulse, drawing out a low groan to vibrate my throat. It feels so fucking good. I don't ever want this night to end. It's too special. Too unbelievable.
Just when I think it can't get good enough, my eyes snap open and I cry out; sweat beading down my face as his fingers wrap around my cock and begin pumping me in time with his thrusts. "O-Oh, Axel...! M-More!" I shout, losing all my feelings to the pleasure.
"Argh – n-ngh, - Roxas," he groans against my throat, nibbling on my sweet spot. The growing heat in my stomach becomes too much. I don't want to give in this early, but before I know it, I'm screaming Axel's name, arching my back off the bed a little and cumming onto our stomachs. He continues to thrust in and out, in and out, until finally he plants his seed into me – riding out his orgasm until he slows to a stop. He rests for a moment on top of me, before pulling out rather sharply and lying next to me. The room is filled with nothing but our pants. I'm the first to move.
I manage to move enough so I'm cuddling up next to him, my head resting on his chest. He's tense under me, and part of me, in my head, is begging him to wrap his arm around me and to let us sleep together in peace. But... no... that doesn't happen.
"What do you think you're doing?" he snarls. I blink and glance up into those eyes that had looked so loving earlier. Now they're filled with nothing but hatred.
"I-I'm..."
"Oh, don't tell me," a cold smirk is plastered to his face, "you were cuddling to me?" That sentence is followed with irritated laughter. My heart drops down to my stomach and crashes as I stay frozen, staring at Axel with obvious hurt drenching my cerulean eyes. "Oh, God-" He's laughing so hard his body his shaking, "you actually think I like you like that?"
"...What do you mean...?"
"Man, you're slow," he chuckles a little, recovering from his laugh attack. Still, I find none of this funny. "I don't like you like that, man. What – you think I'd actually love you? I certainly don't love whores and I consider you as one. Man – the way you kept screaming my name. Yeah, you're like a whore."
I snap.
It takes unbelievable effort not to break down in front of the man naked in front of me. My cheeks are red with anger and embarrassment. I want to slap the man, but I don't want to anger him. No matter how frustrated I get with Axel... I-I can't... I can't hate him... No matter what he does... I'll keep loving him... I hate it so much... "Oh..." I whisper, my eyes falling down to the floor. I curl up into a ball, not daring to look up as Axel pulls himself out of bed and slips back into his clothes.
And then he's gone.
A cold breeze washes through my room, and I realize he left the window open. It takes a lot of effort not to close it back up.
-XxX-
Evening comes quickly the next day. I have no idea how Axel's day has gone as I am still in high school and he's in college. Olette and Pence had noticed the bruises and fingernail marks during gym. I had to lie. Again. I lied, telling them I had merely fell down the stairs and, without realizing it, my fingers had held onto my hips and my fingernails dug into my hips as they hit the ground. They had pointed out that my fingers would have been bruised as well, but thankfully, the bell had rang and I practically shoved my way out of the gymnasium. Sora had noticed my gloomy mood and tried to cheer me up with ice cream. But it just wasn't the same.
Soon, I realize, he'll be here. I'm in my room now, lying on my bed. The sun is setting outside. I want to go outside, maybe meet Xion at the clock tower and we could watch the sunset with Axel like we used to. I would bet anything Axel is sitting there watching the sun set while I'm locked away in my room, scared to see red. I know I shouldn't let him get in the way of the things I love, but the thought of seeing his face aches my heart. I know I'd go into another breakdown if I saw him right now. I've got six hours until he comes back. In six hours, I could be across the border or at least be out of the state. But where would I go? It's not like I have any relatives any place else. Mom and Dad would be sure to lock me down in my room twenty-four/seven if they caught me trying to run away. And then I'd be in it for sure. Axel could come by any time he wanted to because I wouldn't be able to leave my room. I'll just have to endure another night of pure torture...
-XxX-
"Bye, ma,"
"We'll be back before morning, darling, so don't stay up too late. "
I pause at the foot of the stairs, staring at my parents as they gather their things together. Parents that look so loving. So proud. Mom glances at me and smiles softly, though I still have my suspicions that I had seen a look of disgust. Dad is already in the car, ready to leave for the night. I think they were going to some motel for the night, even though I'm not sure why. I asked them, but they told they just wanted to "get out of the house". After that, I realized they just didn't want to listen to my cries. I hate them... but I still love them. I suddenly have an impulse to run my mom, crying, begging her to let me follow them to the motel, sleep in another room, in comfort, knowing Axel wouldn't know where to look because I would be gone. Then I could sleep in peace. But I'm too old for that. I'm sixteen, for Christ's sake. I can't be half my age and hug my mom, crying. I can't beg to be with them and to not be alone because I'm too old. I can't be sympathized because I'm too old. I can't do anything because I'm too old.
Without another word, I trudge up the stairs, anticipating what may come tonight. My feet drag and occasionally I almost trip. But my death grip on the railing prevents me from going face-first into the carpeting. When I get to my room, the first thing I do – always – is lock the door. Axel had asked me once why I lock the doors. I told him because I feel like it'll keep the evil away. He laughed. And laughed. And laughed. I had felt so embarrassed – telling Axel of all people why I would lock a door. "To keep the evil away" my ass. Still, it's like a disturbing habit – I'll keep fidgeting around if I don't have the door locked. I tried to lock the window once. That wasn't a great idea. Axel shattered the window and used the glass to cut me. We both were bleeding, but I was, by worse, the most in pain. Ever since then I just... I just can't stop Axel...
I'm lying on my bed now, staring at the clock again, just like the night before. Two hours until Axel arrives. My palms ball up and become moist in my clenched fists. I have to do something to take my mind off him. I want to do something so I don't hyperventilate again. I stand up and walk over to my desk. It's messy with scissors and tape from an artsy project Naminé had helped me with. She couldn't stop telling me how strange my room smelled earlier – saying it smelled a lot like her parents bedroom. I couldn't help but laugh dryly. I'm quite sure her mother isn't being raped by her father.
I stare at the clean sheet of paper on the desk. Half of me wants to sit down and draw, but another half refuses to rest and focus on lines. No, I want to just pace around. So I do. An hour passes and my feet get tired. I can hear perfect nothingness downstairs staining the air with silence. It's actually a little disturbing to hear absolutely nothing especially when I live with parents who have music playing twenty-four/seven. But I live with it. By then I've got forty-five minutes. I wonder what would happen if I did go against Axel again – try to lock him out-hide-do something! But the threat he had given me stops those horrible thoughts in seconds. When I had locked the window that one night, when he had cut me, he told me he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if I tried to pull something like that off again. He said it with such venom that I honest-to-God don't believe he's lying. He seems like the type that'd love to rid a "whore" from the world.
I can't sit down. My legs are restless – bustling around the room, as if I were frightened to death. Well, I always feel this sort of fear – why does it feel so different tonight? Maybe it's just that stupid prank Axel had pulled last night. I think I'm more guarded now. More wary. More...
The window panels screech open. It takes me a moment to realize I had, yes, actually stood in my room for at least thirty minutes doing absolutely nothing but thinking. I'm not even dressed for bed. My eyes flicker over to the window and I catch sight of red spikes. Of course I catch red spikes – who in the hell else would it be besides the "great" Axel? I lift my head up a little, acknowledging that yes, I did hear him make his loud entrance. In the corner of my eye, he closes the window and turns to me, a large smirk on his face. "Hey, blondie," he says with pure confidence, as if he knows I'm feeling absolutely horrible. "Guess what happened today?"
I shrug my shoulders a little because I don't want to answer. To be completely serious, I could care less what happened in his day. He never usually tells me about his days, though, so this could be interesting. Axel pauses for a moment – he might be noticing my lack of fear – but continues on, talking rather loud. "I went to see Demyx today. He's getting much better – the doctors said he might actually wake up in a few weeks. Isn't that great?" No, it's not. I know if Demyx wakes up, Axel will leave and he'll never come back. That's why I don't want Demyx to wake up. Axel... Axel is mine. Even if I hate his guts, I am Axel's property. Not some wannabe-dead musician. Still, I know if I were to even speak my thoughts of this to Axel... I don't really know what he'd do. He might actually leave me alone... or he could become outraged and very well kill me.
"That's great..." I say quietly, my eyes glued to the floor. An awkward silence fills the air and I wonder if maybe he might leave. He's happy – right? Why would he stick around here with someone like me? If I were him, I wouldn't have even come here. Still, I wonder why he told me. Maybe he wanted me to know that we would part lives soon. I really can't think of any other reason. My eyes lift up a little and seeing Axel's face in front of mine startles me to the point that I actually stumble back a few steps, almost falling over my bed. Axel doesn't look happy but he doesn't look angry either. I'm not sure what he's feeling, but his mouth is tightened in a firm line and his eyes are hard, as if he were trying to hide his emotions from me.
And then he's walking.
He shoves me onto my bed and my heart begins to panic. Before I can even begin to protest, he's on top of me; Axel's straddling my waist and roughly shoving his tongue into my mouth. I whimper against his lips, kicking around and trying to crawl away. A growl voices in his mouth to mine while his overly-large hands scoop my wrists up and above my head. I struggle against him, arching my back up in an attempt to shove him off. The only thing I succeed in actually doing is rubbing our groins together, his tightening while mine is slowly becoming aroused. No, I don't... I don't want this. I drop back onto the bed only to have Axel drop down on top of me. He grinds our hips together. A pathetic moan escapes my lips but I quickly seal them. I squeeze my eyes shut. Axel doesn't seem to notice or care either way and instead, he uses one hand to trap both of my wrists above my head while the other hand carelessly pops off the buttons of my shirt. It was as if he could care less if this shirt was more expensive than what he could earn in a single week.
"P-Please, st-stop!" I scream. He pauses for a moment and then a stinging sensation covers the skin under my eye. I groan, gasping for air when he pulled his tongue out of my mouth before he had hit me. Tears are already blurring my vision. I don't want this. Get off of me... get off of me...
"G-Get off of me!" I shout, and for once, I actually made him back off for a few seconds. Eyes widened in surprise, I take those few seconds to escape my wrists from his grasp and elbow him off. He groans but refuses to unhook his legs from my waist. It's getting irritating, but I knew this was going too far. I already crossed the line by protesting loud enough to break his eardrum. Now I'm actually managing to shove him away? Oh God... when Axel regains his balance, I'm dead. No, I'm deader and than dead; I'll probably be tortured and killed. Maybe if I beg enough he'll let me breathe tomorrow. But Axel told me he hated begging – it made people sound like whores. People... or was he talking about me? God, I don't know.
Axel blinks in confusion at what just happened, and as his eyes turn into slits, I begin to freak out and struggle more and more; somehow slipping my leg under us and putting the pad of my foot against his toned stomach. And then I kick. He gasps in pain and jumps off of me; holding his stomach with a pained expression. I can see his teeth biting into his bottom lip, but I don't pay a lot of attention to it because, well, fuck, I just kicked Axel Ryans. Axel fucking Ryans. I'm probably never going to survive tonight.
Axel looks up at me and he's practically snarling. It startles me to death but as my body locks itself – refusing to let me move at all – I manage to jump up to my feet and look around frantically. My eyes flicker to the window. Maybe I could jump out! But considering I'm on the second floor of some giant-ass building, I highly doubt I'm going to live through that. The door is next, but I swear to you, if I spend three seconds unlocking the door, I'll already be ripped in shreds. The TV could slow him down, but really – I do not have enough strength to shove the damn television out at him. I just know Mom and Dad won't help me out on this if I even tried calling them.
I didn't realize Axel had been walking towards me until I felt white-hot pain in my stomach. My eyes widen and I clutch onto my stomach, stumbling away from him until I felt the wall smash against my back. Blood forced itself up my throat but I gulped it back down, glancing up at Axel with frightened eyes. He looks pissed. No, more than pissed. Like as if the fire from the depths of Hell had reached into his eyes. Strange though, I can't pull my gaze away... it's like I'm being burned to death and I can't do anything to help myself...
Axel smirks.
He snatches up my arm and pulls me towards him before slamming me back against the wall. I cry out, feeling the edge of the window sill beat into my back. I'm pretty sure I've got a few bruises back there now, but that isn't worrying me much. My body begins to fight back, even though my mind is screaming at me to stop and just take the punishment, my limbs have a mind of their own and before I even realize it, I'm shoving Axel onto the bed, landing a rather weak punch on his face.
He seems more interested in the bruise slowly forming on his cheek, so I take that time to look for something to survive with. My eyes land on the crafting tools and a thought comes to mind. He can't hurt me if he can't move. I didn't really want to do it, but survival instincts kicked in. I dash forward and succeed in cutting my palm with one of the scissors blades, but I barely feel it as my other hand snatches up the roll of tape. In the mirror in front of me, I can see Axel standing up from the bed, giving 'mirror me' a death look. Fear once again strikes into my heart and I loose grasp of the objects in my hands. I shudder off the feeling and spin around. The first thing I do when I face Axel is kick him. Hard. Between the legs.
He cries out in agony and drops to his knees, holding his pained crotch. For a moment – for a mere second – a small, childlike laugh tries to scratch up my throat. But I hold it in, because I mean, really? Who laughs at other peoples' pain? Well, aside from Axel and all the other rapists and murderers in the world. Seriously – normal people do not laugh at other's pain. No, we sympathize... strange though, I feel no sympathy for the redheaded bastard in front of me. Wait... shit, he's standing up!
His hand closes up around my wrist and he twists it so hard I swear I heard a crack break the silence. I whimper and claw at his hand, struggling as he pulls me into his arms – closing the space between our bodies. This isn't as intimate as it sounds, I swear. I try to shove against him but, due to lack of space, I can barely move my limbs. Axel seems to have known this because he smirks coldly and with a hint of satisfaction, twisting my body around so my back is to him. He throws me at the wall and then sandwiches me against it. His arousal, unbelievably hard, rubs against my lower back. Small whimpers and pleas escape my lips but he ignores me all the same. He unzips my pants and jerks them down.
A buzz breaks the silence. Axel backs off for a moment and I think it's because he was startled, but that thought doesn't linger in my mind for long. All my head can repeat is survive, survive, I must survive, I have to survive or he will kill me. Listening to my thoughts, I thrust my elbow back and successfully hit him, knocking the air out of him. He gasps in my ear and pulls back, allowing the personal space I much deserved. After a second of enjoying the feeling of not touching anything, I spin around and lock eyes with Axel. He looks outraged and as he reaches for my skull, I duck out of the way and escape his attempt to corner me.
It feels like I'm going in circles. Axel seems to realize this too because he lets out an aggravated growl.
"Will you fucking stay still?" He barks, "This is getting downright annoying."
"So you can rape me?" I laugh dryly, my eyes turning into slits, "I think not." He pauses, as if thinking over something, and then a small smile reaches his face as his eyes trail over my desk. I, too, look over at my desk and a tremor of fear rushes through me when I realize exactly what he's staring at. As soon as he makes the first step towards the scissors, I dash forward, reaching out to grab the two blades before Axel can. Damn my skinny legs. He snatches it up seconds before I get to it and by then, I can't stop my body and force it to go the other way. Instead, I run into his body and he slams his fist against my back.
Pain. I scream out as the sharp blade of the scissors dig into my flesh. Warm liquid trickles down my skin and I can feel it bleeding through my cotton shirt. Axel's grip on the end of the scissors tighten and he forces the blades into my skin as far as it can go. My fingernails dig deep into his back but I know it's practically nothing compared to this. Axel takes out the blades, seeming pleased that the scissors are covered with my blood. He takes a few seconds to admire it and during that time, I try to recover. I attempt to push myself off of him and as I do, a silver gleam catches in the corner of my eye.
I glance back and see another pair of scissors left lazily on the desk. It's the pair Naminé had been using earlier. She must've left them at my house. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood and, carefully, reach over the desk without alarming Axel. He doesn't even seem to notice my movements but instead, he's grazing the tip of the scissors along my back, shredding my shirt to bits and pieces. As soon as I feel my fingers wrap around the cold steel of the scissors on the desk, I tighten the hold and immediately pull back – the blades facing Axel's back.
At first all I hear is a painful grunt and the scissors he had been holding clatter to the ground. Without even wasting a second, I roughly pull the scissors out of his flesh and create another hole into his skin. Liquid wets my fingers but I ignore the disgusted feeling and continue to mutilate his back. His hands wrap around my shoulders and he jerks me off of him. I loose feel of the scissors as I stumble back onto the bed but instantly look up at Axel's face. He's stumbling back too. And when he back slams against the wall, I wince at his screams. Now I know the scissors had entered in him as far as they could go. Still... I'm not satisfied... When he recovers, he'll stab me to no end. I have to ensure my safety. It's too late to go back, now. He wants my blood and I'm not about to hand it over without a fight.
I stand up and, ignoring the pain biting my back, walk over to Axel. He's using his head against the wall so his back can arch forward. I can see his eyes narrowing down at me while he's breathing hard. He looks... really good in that pose. Really sexy. I smile sweetly at him.
"Axel," I whisper, "are you feeling okay?" His eyes flutter close and snap open to glare at me. It was as if I had done something horribly wrong. This isn't wrong. I mean, this is so I don't die, right? It's all in self-defense. I'm doing all this so I won't sleep forever. I have to do this. He won't stop until he has my blood so I have to make sure he does stop. No, this isn't wrong. I'm doing this for both of our goods. If... If I didn't do this, Axel would be charged with homicide. I don't want him to go through hell in prison. No, this benefits both of us.
"Get... Get the fuck... away from... me..." He's wheezing a little, and I cock my head to the side, reaching up and taking his face in my hands. He jerks his face away which causes me to retreat my hands. I know he doesn't like me touching him. I sigh and watch as his eyes close more and more often until they finally stay closed, and his body slumps forward. I catch his body with ease – a little thankful he barely weighs a pound – and pull him over to the bed.
Now that he's here, sitting on my lap, as if he were a little kid, I realize how much I really do love him. His face looks so content and pale. I stroke his back, actually becoming a bit fond of the wetness that greets my fingers. I should clean up his wounds... but I don't want to ruin this moment. I love him too much to leave him alone, even for a second. No matter what he does... I can't help but smile when I see his face now. I look over at him and smile, leaning in and kissing his cold lips softly. Usually his lips are like the blazing fires, but it's okay either way. Either way he's still the same Axel.
After a few more minutes, the blood tickling my arm is becoming unnerving. It's beginning to frighten me, I mean. So instead of freaking out, I lean back so we're both laying down on my covers. I don't mind if his blood stains my bed sheets. It'll help me remember this night. Yes... I do want to remember this night. This night, where I, for once, overpowered him and caused him to black out. Tonight, where I can hold him in my arms and cuddle his unconscious body. I can smile softly and kiss him like in my fantasies. It doesn't bother me too much that he's not kissing back. Though it is bothering me a little that he is beginning to move around a little – an obvious sign that he's going to wake up soon. When he wakes up, he'll be angry. I don't want him to be angry at me, and I surely don't want to die from his attacks. I have to use restraints on him. It's the only way I can look at those beautiful green orbs without feeling scared.
Carefully slipping away from the bed, I trudge over to the desk and grab the duck-tape. Hopefully duck-tape will keep him down, if not handcuffs or ropes. Hell, I don't even think I have any of those things. Anyway I walk back over to his sleeping form and gently grab one of his wrists. He weakly tries to jerk his wrist back, as if he knows what's happening, but I hold it in a firm grasp and tape his skin to the bedpost. I do this to his other wrist, and his ankles too. By then he's struggling around, but not struggling enough to be considered "freaking out". No, his eyes are open, but he looks wary. He's rocking his body around, arching up from the bed and hissing in pain. I guess the scissors are causing more pain than I thought. Maybe I should take them out, so he can rest peacefully. Yes, that's what I should do. He'll thank me for it. I know he will.
Without a word, I tower over him and slip one of my hands under his back. He growls and cries out when my fingers graze over the very end of the scissors. Damn, he got it really deep. I hope this won't hurt him too much.
"Wh-What are you do- FUCK!" His screams echo through my room as I hook my fingers into his back – around the scissors. Flesh and blood press tightly against my fingers, which is making it harder for me, but I ignore the impulse to withdraw my hand. As soon as I've got a strong hold on the scissors, I then tug, feeling the guilt pound into me as his screams never cease. "S-STOP!" He shouts. I ignore him, my hand separating from his back but the scissors still rest inside of him. Finally I unhook my fingers from the scissors, glancing at my hand in disgust. It's covered with thick, red liquid. Still, I'm doing this for him. I wonder why he's not thanking me yet? I glance down at his face. Tears of pain are streaming down his cheeks and the sides of his face – slipping behind his ears and wetting his beautiful spiky hair. He looks really pained, but actually... he looks beautiful. I've never seen him look like this before. I like it. A soft smile reaches my lips as I lean forward and press a chaste kiss on his lips, in which he snarls and jerks his head away from mine.
I pout, hooking my fingers in the slots on the scissors and tug once again. He's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Finally the scissors are out of him. I hold up the red-coated silver blades, staring at my reflection in it. Well, part of my reflection anyway. All I can see is my own eye, and for a moment, I'm actually kind of frightened. My eyes, which are usually pretty bright, are azure now. Then again, blood makes everything looks so dark. Yeah, that's it. It's just the blood. Not my eyes. I place the scissors down to the side of the bed, just as Axel utters a groan.
"You're fucking insane..." Axel breathes, "Let me the fuck go."
"But you'll hurt me... I love you too much, Axel... I don't want you to hurt me. So I have to hurt you. I really don't want to, Axel. I swear I don't... but you're making me do this," I whisper, staring at his eyes with sadness obviously covering my eyes, "I don't ever want to hurt you. I love you," My wet hand cups the side of his face and to my surprise, he looks sickened and horrified. Is that actually how he thinks of my feelings?
"You sick fuck!" A crack echoes into the room, and for a moment and I'm a bit frightened by what is it. It takes me a minute to realize my hand is pounding from the impact, and it takes me another second to realize I'm the one that caused the crack. I look over Axel and startle to see a hand print on his cheek. I... had slapped him? My eyes narrow. It seems wrong to slap him, but... but he deserved it! He... He was calling me sick! I was expressing my love for him and he goes ahead and tells me I'm insane, looking at me in disgust! He deserved it! No... no, he deserves more... I want to make him realize how much he's hurt me... I want to make sure he never thinks of hurting me ever again.
I want him to love me. I do. I want his heart. I gave him mine – can't he return the favor? Yes, that's what I'm after now. I want to know that I have a hold of his heart – that I can play with it any time I please – just like he does. He has that power over me. I want the same power over him. No... no wants... I need. I need him to love me. I need that power that he has over me, so I can enjoy the feeling of being on top of him, like he had done countless times before. I need his heart.
Without even asking, I remove the rest of the filthy clothing covering his top half. Now I can see the dark bruises from earlier beaming at me on his stomach. Little blood covered his chest, but I know his back is still drenched with it. Axel is giving me a death glare, breathing hard, but not saying anything. It doesn't really bother me. I mean, it's better than hearing him say hurtful things. It'd be even better if he said he loved me, but ha. Like that would really happen! Axel's too... he's not really nice, especially to me. And I hurt him... I'm actually not surprised that he wouldn't say he loved me. When he hurt me, I couldn't stop thinking of how much I hate him. Now I love him with all my heart. "I love you," I say in a hushed voice, saying it to myself. Axel hears it and scoffs angrily, breaking me even more. A frown creases onto my lips as I rub his chest affectionately in an attempt to prove to him that I really do love him.
All he does is snarl at me to stop touching him.
"I really wish you'd say you love me," I mumble, grabbing the bloody scissors from sheets and shivering at the cold feel of them. "It'd make me feel a lot better. Then this wouldn't be happening..."
"I could never love something as sick and disturbed as you," he growls and his eyes show no lies. Tears burn at the edge of my eyes. Why doesn't he love me? I was always there when he was lonely during the nights! I comforted him, even after he practically raped the life out of my soul! I was the one standing for him even with all the abuse he shoved at me. Where was Demyx? Oh, yeah, he was in a fucking hospital dying and leaving his life behind! Anger boils in my blood and I, rather roughly, press the sharp end of the scissors into his collarbone. He gasps quietly and tremors under me, but the more he moves, the more the blades sink into his skin.
"I was always there for you, damn it! I loved you, no matter what sort of sick torture you threw at me! Why can't you love me back!" I scream, pulling the scissors out of his skin and stabbing his chest with more rage. He whimpers softly, biting his lip again and clenching his fists together. I'm surprised the duck-tape hadn't torn, from the way Axel is twisting and pulling at his wrists. He screams in pain as I begin to drag the scissors across his chest, curving a line of blood and then pulling it out. He pants hard, but before he can recover, I stab him once again where I had first cut him, dragging the line up and curving it to meet the other line.
The heart I engraved into his chest bleeds mercilessly. He's screaming for help, but his voice is getting hoarse. I can see his eyes are lolling back in his head. His blood stains my fingers and under my nails, but I barely feel the sick, disgusted feeling anymore. Instead, I feel a sad want for him. I want him to say he loves me.
"Please..." I whisper, letting the scissors glue in his cut while I crawl next to him wrapping my arms around him. "Please say you love me," I expect him to give me a smart ass comment, even if he's hurt. Another part expects him to give in and tell me he loves me so I can finally sleep in peace. But...
He says nothing.
His body ceased and his limbs are limp.
Tears blur my vision, but I look up and see his eyes are closed. His mouth is slightly open, and blood is streaming down the the corner of those beautiful doll-made lips. His chest isn't heaving up and down anymore. I hug onto his body tight, wishing and praying his arms would wrap around me. I love him so much... but now... now he's nothing.
He's useless.
A/N: Trololololol this was beta-read by Jayden Winters. My love is to you, Jayden. ; U ;
Alright, so here's my late Halloween fanfiction. Kind of... not really... AHEMAHEMAHEM.
This at least took me a week or two to write :DD I write so slowly.
Reviews are the candy to my stomach. (Hurrhurrhurr)
