This Tiger's Secret
Chapter One
All characters belong to Disney.
He'd done it, once.
He said that it was an early sixteenth birthday present from him, but she could never remember him ever giving her a gift. When she'd argued this point, he'd then simply said that he wanted to get in before the suitors arrived. He wanted the first bite.
It frightened her that she remembered so little, and what she did, seemed so unimportant now. Red and black and blue fabrics being ripped away, her innocence quickly following behind. She'd memorised the detail pattern of gold leaves on the ceiling, that she'd studied over his shoulder, trying to ignore the pushing of his body on hers, hands running over the mountains and into the abyss of her body.
She'd blinked at the searing pain through her body when her childhood had been thrown away, and had clamped a lid down tightly on the screams that had threatened to escape. She believed that he already had enough satisfaction.
And yet she remembers how warm those hands were, how controlled, how practised they were. And she remembers how he'd smiled at her strangely once he was done, and despite her emotions being hijacked and flung away from her, she had allowed the smallest of sincere smiles to greet him.
Her father enquired about the bruises on her face. She looked at the men in her life, and told him some feeble story about accidentally injuring herself. A simple man brought by simple lies, to hide complex secrets that are both wanted and needed to be kept.
And not once, did she cry.
*
But she wants to cry now, when her sweet, confused husband tries, with the tenderness and pure love that she thought the event should've been. Bless him, he would try, and each time, she would tell him that it wasn't his fault.
And then she'd turn her back on him, and cradle her knees to her chest. She'd let her teary eyes watch over the great sands, but never allow those tears to spill over.
He had told her that she was not allowed to give herself to another, because if she did, he would come and find her and show to her how he was her only one. And despite being trapped in a lamp in the middle of a never-ending desert, she was certain that he would return, either way.
He always did make good on his word.
The tinest part of her wanted to fill in the blanks of the past memory, and she knew that her husband could not complete it for her. Despite the fear and despite the pain, the pleasure's tiger was walking slowly and restlessly around her mind, and she knew what would allow it to finally sleep.
And she told the tiger, that it was only a matter of time.
For she would be waiting.