Grey as he lost Ana:
"Your fucked up." Oh, those words she said, hit straight to that splintered mind of his, recasting a light on the truth. He believed it, more then she, the truth in her words...Fucked up? Yes, he was. So fucking fucked up...
The Earth, as it seemed, was pushing him into the darkest and most dreadful layers of his cerebrum. That demented, demon who hides in dreams, had now fully surfaced, suddenly, ripping the poor boy from his sanity. Or whatever he had left of it.
All his life, he thought he knew what he was and what he wanted. Now...Feeling like he's never felt. It was as though, he had never gained any sense of control... Now only digressing, repressing...Oh he felt a need to scream, like those lovely post-punk songs, where they would yell about, in microphones, each fear and inadequacy. Christian thought he needed to take a step back and regain his calm, collectivity and try and let her go...let her go.
Oh, he knew he should have never let her in. Now she was gone, left him here, alone. Sweet girl was right too. Each whip of his belt on her, was another staggering sting to what issues this man bore. Every time the leather met skin - It was another attempt for the lost, small, child in him, to cast out those eating memories...Memories of childhood, the lack of a young mothers love and the man she let mutilate him. Both physical and mental.
"Your fucked up." Her words etched behind gray-eyed misery. Oh he lost it. The order, the control. Heavy thoughts, dragging him...Down, down, down into that river of sorrow. Cascading through him, in a intolerable abundance... Till he was drowning.
How could he have been so foolish, to think he could ever hold onto such sweetness?...Now she knew. Knew the sickness he carried. She was right to leave.
But how could he let her go? No, no, no. Gargling up his soul. The world, pushing him face first into the dirt.
Oh, freed from this sorrow sounds like swollen joy. A place Christian would like to visit. How can one volume these tears of sadness? He should have never let her into his bed, he should have never slept next to her dreaming body, he should have never made love to those blue eyes.
Yes. Made love. Anastasia, he did not fuck. He made love to her. What had she done? How could he have allowed her to seep skin deep?
He had been right all along, Anastasia would have only ever brought him heartache. He was such a fool thinking he deserved a chance at love. He wanted it so bad...Wanted her so bad and now gravity wore itself upon his soft skin.
He could not free his mind. He could not exorcise that demon.
Christian's hands clenched at the note she had left him. "Reminds me of a happier time"...
He caressed it with a tenderness, with a gleam in his eyes. He would change for her, if he could. He'd be anything for her. No one else made his soul fill with light, how could he just let that go?
"My sweet baby..." He whispered to no one, still cradling Ana's note to him. He did not want to mourn his memories. He wanted to sleep by her sweet body and forget them all...
She took away his nightmares, he never slept so soundly, with her little body by his. Maybe, she could take away that sickness too...He crushed the daydream in an instant. But still mulled it over, in quiet hope. Ah, Christian the hopeless hopeful.
Christian took the phone from his pocket and dialed Taylor's number with a spontaneous urgency and the man answered on the first ring. "Sir?"
"Find me the finest bouquet of roses. No fucking discoloration or signs of them dying and shit. I want the prettiest damn fucking flowers you can find."
"Yes, Sir. Only the finest."
Taylor smiled as he ended the call, despite the barking order, he had never seen his boss - the way he was with Anastasia. The sweetheart of a girl, even stoic Taylor became rather fond of. The quiet, shy, polite little child. Taylor knew...Knew, they were in love. He imagined the look of adoration on Christian's face as he stared at Ana - mirrored the one he had, as he look at Mrs, Jones.
Christian's head fell into his hands and he thought, baffled, that he might begin to produce some tears. She had told him...She loved him. Those words from her lips had made his eyes burst open. Now he was going to send her fucking roses, like that shit would make a difference? The man mocked himself in a ruthless laugh. A cold, mirthful laugh.
No, Its wrong - he had told her after her confession. But those words, oh...Coming from her darling mouth. He had never felt so alive and so horrified. How could he have tricked this angel into his labyrinth of the demented?
"I'm falling in love with you." Christian grinned beside himself, replaying her words, still gripping onto her note, his fingertips stroking the ink...
Back at the Doc's:
"She told me she fucking loved me. I had just beat the shit out of her with a belt...Made her...Cry. She was crying so much. She told me I was fucked up and then she says she fucking loves me?" Christian ran both hands through his hair, his eyes confused, lost...Scared.
Flynn observed him in silence for a moment. Honestly, a bit shocked.
"How did you feel when she said she loved you? What was your response?"
His patient scoffed, like the obviousness of his question was one a preschooler could deduct. "I told her she was wrong."
"Why would she be wrong? You have no say over her emotions. I think you are the wrong one."
Christian's head snapped up and locked eyes with his psychiatrist. A distinct dislike in his comment. "I would only be proving further, the monster I'am if I keep trying to be with her. She deserves better."
"Why did you beat her with a belt?" Flynn said, while crossing his right leg over his thigh.
"She fucking asked me too. Then she didn't fucking safe-word!"
Flynn looked bemused but spoke in earnest. "Did you ever presume she was trying to please you and then just couldn't handle it?"
"Which is why there is a fucking safe-word. Who the fuck...Why. Just, I don't understand."
"Did she explain why she left you?"
Christian racked his mind, fully reliving the moment.
I can't, I can't. The poor man thought, his fingers again, running through his copper hair. Please, he begged to that absent and invisible God, Please tell me you were once this desperate.
"She wanted more. She said if this...issue of mine was always going to get in the way of us...Being together, she didn't want to stay."
The Doctor cleared his throat, "I see. What do you want Christian?"
"I want...her back. But I know I'm alone, one jaded mother fucker. How could I blame her? Now she can hate me. I hope she does." Christian didn't understand why he said this. What provoked this stream of consciousness that he always kept tucked away.
Flynn leaned over in his chair, in absolute fascination at his words, his sudden and acute honesty.
"You are more then your memories. Like I said, you see yourself in pieces. Anastasia knew what she was getting into. Your nature is not what repelled her. She said she loved you after the incident and you told her she was wrong to. She wants to be with you and you denied her. That is why she left. Why would Anastasia be okay simply being your submissive, Christian, when she loves you?"
"I- I can't be more. I don't fucking know how. I don't fucking want to." Again arose the petulant Christian, the small child in him still so scarred by the absence of his mothers love. He would wonder as a boy, how he could make her love him, what he did wrong to make her so distant,...So far away. He could not understand that Ella, was incapable to love herself, nor her child and the illness of hers, had been passed on to her son. Immortalizing the pain.
"Are you willing to try?" Flynn, procured "She was willing to try for you. It seems to me, your low ideology of yourself is hindering something that can truly help you. Anastasia has already made you open up and show more emotion than I've ever seen in the years we've known each other."
The Doctor paused, choosing his words with care. "I'd suggest you make an effort to talk this out with her."
"What if she doesn't want to see me?" Mr, Grey...Actually looked insecure. What stranger was this?
"Give her and yourself a chance. You will regret it if you don't. Christian, there is more to people than just their darkness. Indeed, you have suffered a great deal. But this suffering, can be the breaking of your shell. Maybe Anastasia is the one you want to let in? What do you think?"
Christian rolled his eyes. "Are you a philosopher or a fucking doctor?"
"You're avoiding the question."
The man gritted his teeth, but could not deny. He wanted Ana, he wanted all of her. "Yes. I do."
"Then? Make the effort."
Hello kind reviewers! I know my snippets are short (some more than others) but these are just random moments that pop in my head and there will be plenty more. I just heard a song and it reminded me of this moment, where Christian had just lost Ana because of the whole playroom incident. I have been getting some requests and though I accept them, I cannot promise I will follow through, I just write what comes to me. One love and thank you all. :)