The sharp pain flooded her arm and blood bubbled to the surface once more. Princess blew on the wound as if that would cool, it but it only strengthened the pain shaking her nerves.
"Damn it, Buttercup," she cursed, an edge of affection in her voice. The imagery of the battle moments ago echoed in her mind. It was the same old song-- she offered to be a part of the Powerpuff girls and as always those snobs shook their heads. It was the same old dance, when in her fury she charged at them, unleashing all of the new gadgets her daddy had bought her, only to have them backfire on her so she got the beating of a lifetime. It was the same old same old.
The shakes in her arm were beginning to die down. She sighed, remembering the first time she fought the girls. How when she was defeated, she thought the pain was unbearable; yet each time she went against them in the future she made the same claim again. It was evident that the girls' growing impatience with her was mirroring the blows they sent.
Recently though the pain felt different. It itched her nerves and made her gasp and reel, but at the same time it sent tiny slivers of pleasure up her spine. It was strange, and she soon learned it was addicting. She started to associate Buttercup with the most excruciating agony, and also with the most thrilling tingles that littered her seconds later. Buttercup was whom she thought about at the end of the day after an unfulfilling day of villainy, shivering against her injuries-- injuries the green-eyed girl caused.
She breathed in; her arm was still. She dabbed away the blood, thoughts of Buttercup gradually slipping from her fantasies.
She reached for the bottle of peroxide and poured, half-regretting it, half-embracing it.
Princess wished Buttercup wasn't nearly invincible, so that the hits she gave the powerpuff would linger on her like Buttercup's bruises lingered on herself. She wanted Buttercup to think about her too.
oOo
Buttercup was on her back, feet propped up against the head board of the bed. She stared vacantly at the light bruise on her arm and prodded it. She hissed against the jolt that spread out from the discolored spot. Then after it calmed she touched it again, the redhead's smirk flashing in her mind.
"Girls! Dinner!"
Blossom and Bubbles rushed downstairs, but their sister lingered, touching the small wound. She was sure that by the time she finished eating, the bruise would disappear. It was a rarity for Princess to leave her a mark. The flicker of pain made her hope Princess felt it too.