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My Sweet Little Pain

Never…funny word, isn't it?

In took longer than I thought but, sometime during the tests and new drugs I…changed. I'm not sure how or when but everything started to slowly fade, turning my already pitiful world in a sick grey blur. Suddenly, Boris' orders were all that matter. I had to obey him, at any cost.

That is, until I was forced to fight my dear thorn master again.

It has been a while since our last battle and he changed as well. Now a bit taller than me, his muscles didn't seem so stuffed anymore. Not that he was slim now, far from that. To be honest, he looked like a brick wall but, at the same time, it was almost…what's the word? Harmonious? Not quite but something among those lines.

But, of course, I just realized that now, looking at my cell's ceiling. That's right. Cell.

Guess victory is life after all.

Cause I have lost. Again. I blocked each one of his attacks, fighting back with all the ice now running in my veins but, when the last blow came…I couldn't finish. His thorns had cut through my orders and, for a split second, all the colors were back.

I remembered my vow. Looking at his eyes, those foreign untamable eyes, everything came crashing over my head and I was alive again.

Too bad Boris didn't like it.

So, here I was, in a 4x4 dark cell, living with two meals and three beatings per day. With some luck, there is just another one of each for me to be released, but I can only hope.

Suddenly, light is everywhere and my eyes are burning. I close them and try not to moan, barely registering the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. A shiver went down my spine. Something is wrong. Why the silence? Why the…carefulness, was it? Hn. Whatever. It's not supposed to be like that!

There should be stupid guards entering with a hell of a noise, cracking knuckles and making bad dirty jokes about redheads. Why the hell whoever was sent here to beat me was been careful and quiet?

"Still alive, Red?"

My eyes shot open and I sit on the floor, all in one heart beat. Standing in front of me was him, knife in hand, frowning at my pathetic state.

Why are you here? – I wanted to ask, but the pain was too much. Damn it! I shouldn't have moved so fast! Letting the moan I was holding out, I fell back on the cold stone, the cell spinning around me.

He walks over me and I can barely hear his footsteps. I miss whatever he says along the way too. But by no means have I missed his face right in front of mine, his hot breath trickling my skin, his fingertips running over my swollen cheek.

"They never do it right." – he says, eyeing the bruise with disgust. Soon, the blade is on my face, slowly cutting through the damaged skin. I bite back a smile.

No, they never do right. Not like you.

Blood flows from the cut, the warmth spreading leisurely over my cold face. I close my eyes, enjoying your mastery. Why you took so long to come?

"I'm here to punish you. You know that, right?" – he whispers, licking my dirty face clean. I bite my lip hard, shivers running through my whole body. Shakily I nod, too afraid of what would come out if I dared open my mouth.

He smirks his dark smirk and goes on.

-x-

"Why?"

I crack one eye open, trying to focus on him. The lights have been turned off long ago so all that I had was the dim glow coming from under the door. Apparently, he was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, looking at me. His expression, however, was beyond my eyes reach.

"Why…what?" – I force myself to say. He was never one to speak much so I was curious.

"Why you are what you are?"

I blink, both eyes open now. How on Earth was I supposed to answer that?

He let out a sigh. I could almost see his frustration.

"You enjoy pain. So why do you obey Boris?" – he tries to elaborate and I begin to see where he is going – "Are you afraid of death?"

I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood. Should I tell?

"Like you said…they never do it right." – I close my eyes again, too tired to keep them open. At least, that's what I tell myself.

"And I do?" – he replies, clearly not believing my words.

"Yeah…"

I didn't hear him getting up but I could feel him getting near again. Soon, his fingers are tracing the cuts over my arms and chest, slowly reaching my face. A small smile twists my lips before I can stop it.

"Is that why you don't want to be captain?" – he whispers and I can't keep my eyes closed any longer.

"H-how…?"

"Is it?" – he press his fingers over a cut, short nails digging through my flesh, draining blood once again. I moan.

"To lead I have to… defeat you…If I do…I won't feel alive. "

He stops pressing the cut, bringing his lips to it like he did every other time. His tongue feels like salt on the wound.

"I don't give a shit." – he says, eyes stabbing mines – "Hold back again and I'll kill you."

My heart stops at his statement. My arms embrace him with all the strength I have last.

"Why?" – my eyes are wide with fear, the ultimate sigh of weakness, but I don't care – "Don't you like…"

"You never scream." – he smirks, satisfied with my reactions. Apparently, I have done exactly what he wanted me to do – "I like it. Screams are annoying. "

I blink, utterly confused.

"But Boris can suck it if he thinks I will be captain. "