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Day 82

"You will not breathe a word of it."

There's a sting in her eyes. She was up all night, treated as part of the furniture.

"We'll try again tomorrow."

There's a numbness on her legs. He was heavy, unpleasant like a kicking and screaming child.

He sighs, runs his hands down his face like he's so done with the world.

She thinks he looks strange like that, extra strange with unruly hair and torn clothes.

His frame shudders when he takes that one big breath.

"Do you understand, Valentine?"

"Yes, Sir."

He rakes his fingers over his blond hair, smooths the strands to their signature look, brings the devil back.

Day 62

Four hours into the flight, Wesker issues the same instruction.

She's not up for lying down for another ten hours - with him poking hard at the back of her head.

So she sits as asked, lies down on the leather seat, props her bare feet on his thigh.

He can always try to be more specific.

She sees a fine brow rise over the rim of his shades, before he stoically accepts the current arrangement.

Her fingers touch the protruding plate on her chest, newly installed the other day.

She scratches around a wire, scratches until her skin is on fire.

Day 12

The injection falls on the floor, rolls and clinks as it hits a steel cabinet.

Wesker doesn't bother to pick it up. He merely prepares a new syringe.

He places a hand on her left thigh again. She grinds her teeth together at the feel of his nitrile gloves.

Alcohol's applied to the site. It's left to dry.

Two of his fingers stretch her skin.

She holds her needle penetrates her flesh.

She shuts her eyes close. A single tear streaks its way down her cheek.

He leans closer than before, studies the authenticity of her emotion.

Day 42

Excella's old-fashioned for a modern girl.

The eighth lash bites, cuts through the drug's tolerance. The following lash bites more, carves Jill's back in a sharp arch.

She retains the position given: on her knees, arms spread apart, body offered as sacrifice.

The whip kisses her skin in quick succession.

Swift touches that open her flesh.

Fast slaps that deliver her blood.

Excella huffs, gathers the bloodstained leather with shaking hands.

She's nowhere near gratified.

Her face is red, her mascara's running, her foundation's melting.

Excella glares daggers, utters troia! over and over through gritted perfect teeth.

A little slut got her lover killed.

Day 62 (MHC)

Jill wiggles, stretches her legs, relieves a certain cramp.

They've stayed in that position for over an hour.

She stretches some more, throws her arms over her head, pops her shoulders.

A foot digs into his thigh.

Wesker catches her ankle, keeps it in place with an iron grip.

His heat seeps through the gloves.

She works on the knots knitted at her lower back. Her whole body undulates.

A greater heat seeps through his tight pants.

She bites her lower lip. His jaw clenches.

She takes a single shallow breath, traces his erection with her toes, watches him get arrested with want.

Day 42 (recovery)

Antiseptic cream and bandages. She hopes Tricell can provide more than that. With the P30 dried up, her back feels more than inflamed.

Hydrocodone. She reads the label of an orange bottle on the nightstand.

Wesker steps in her line of sight. He takes the tube, opens it, lets a tablet fall on his palm.

He pushes the white pellet between her lips. She sticks her tongue out for a taste.

Too bitter.

His fingers press harder against the barrier of her teeth.

She relents, opens her mouth to the medicine.

Too bitter. She wants to throw up.

"Swallow."

She coats the pill with her spit and swallows.

Day 22

"È amore?" Excella asks, trimmed brow raised, manicured hands on her hips. She taps her pointed shoe on the floor, narrows her eyes at her partner assisting a test subject.

Jill deliberately trips. Her fingers claw on his shirt. Her breaths short on his shoulder.

"Sei innamorato di lei?" Excella's voice rises to a shrill sound.

"I've got no time for your nonsense." Wesker snaps, arm loosely wrapped around Jill's waist.

Excella stomps out of the laboratory.

Jill loops her arms around his neck. She stands on her tiptoes, strains her legs.

She licks her lips, stares at his mouth, tempts him to something he can try to take.


Notes: È amore? = Is it love?

Sei innamorato di lei? = Are you in love with her?

troia = sow/slut/bitch