I'm sad. There were no reviews in the last chapter. Is someone still reading this? i.i
My Sweet Little Pain
Things are great! For the first time in my life I'm happy! And I mean happy-happy, not average-happy. The moving had been great, even shopping for clothes and stuff was fun. And the routine…It felt like heaven, every bit of it. Even when we had to clean up or do something as annoying as laundry or the dishes, it still felt like bliss to just go and do something that didn't involve big amounts of pain for a change.
But the best part is the bedroom. It isn't big or fancy, but cozy, with a big window to let the light in, be it the sun or the moon, a big double bed, soft pillows and warm sheets. But of course, the even better part is the person I share this slice of heaven with, a.k.a. the reason behind the currently messy, blood spotted sheets and all-over-the-floor pillows.
Too bad Bryan had just walked out the front door to some grocery shop. I felt like we could still have some fun…
"You have to stop it."
I raise my head from the TV I was so nicely using to justify my grin to stare at a worried and slightly pissed Spencer. Which is very strange, since he is the only one that rarely seems pissed. Okay, what did I do now?
Since I fail to answer, he came closer, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa I'm currently sitting on. He rests his arms on his knees and his chin on his hands, looking straight into my eyes.
"He's hurting you." – he says, and for a split second I'm back into that fucking hospital, tied to the bed and half sedated with nothing but a name and hazy memories far from my reach.
I clench my teeth and take a deep breath.
"He is not." – feels strange to treat Bryan as 'he' but something tells me I should keep this conversation impersonal. And since my gut feelings are yet to be proven wrong…
"He is." – realizing this won't lead us anywhere, Spencer tries a different approach – "I saw your sheets. There's blood everywhere."
"That doesn't mean he hurts me." – Not in the way other people used to hurt me anyway.
Spencer's body tenses and I can see a spark of rage in his eyes. That takes me unguarded, leaving me shocked and even a bit angry. I mean, come on! He never reacted like this when Boris hit me. Why freak now?
Maybe he thinks Bryan is doing the same thing?
"We already know you're strong Tala, you don't have to prove it by handling Bryan. Please, let me help."
I raise an eyebrow, truly lost.
"I don't handle anything, Spencer. Bryan may have brought this house, but we all agreed I'm the one charge." – my voice is deep and calm, and I hope I can keep it like that for my pride's sake – "As for what happens in my bedroom, Bryan doesn't do anything I don't allow him to."
Spencer's face darks and he crosses his arms, looking even bigger than he already is.
"And that's precisely the problem. Bryan is a sadist, Tal. Can't you see he's just using you? I bet he just brought this house so he can keep you close and satisfy all his sick needs." – Spencer says that with so much hate I have no doubt he truly believes it.
Too bad I don't.
"His needs may be sick, but so are mines. And so are yours, Spencer. After all we've been through, do you really think we could have normal needs like any other person? "
Something pops in my mind. It was a night when I got up to drink some water, right after some sex. I was too dizzy from both pleasure and blood loss to even care to cover my nudity and if anyone stopped me, I would have no way to explain all the blood and...other things tainting my skin.
Yet, when I passed by Spencer's door I couldn't help but hear some muffled sounds. Not sure if it was a nightmare, and knowing the ones about the Abbey could be rather vicious, I cracked his door open end peeked inside.
It only took me a split second to realize 1) the blond wasn't having a nightmare; 2) he could handle this situation alone. Literally and 3) he was holding a blood stained sheet.
I didn't make much of it at the time but now it was like a puzzle, all complete and ready to be appreciated. I never thought I would be envied by something besides my blading skills but apparently, I was wrong. However, even if this whole situation suddenly gave my ego a hell of a bust, it also made me incredibly jealous and pissed.
"…the fact you keep accepting only make things worse and…" – Spencer keeps talking. Apparently, I had zoomed out during his speech. Not that I care.
"You want him."
He stops mid-sentence, blue eyes going incredibly wide for a whole second before he realizes that and bring them back to normal. I swear he shivered.
"I don't…"
"You do. I saw you the other night." – I stand, slowly going to him, purposely swinging my hips. But my eyes are narrowed, studding the best angle to attack – "Poor Spencer. All alone with a bloody sheet."
He gasps something, probably some words of denial but I don't listen and sit on his lap instead, unzipping my jacket so he can see the blood dry paths my beloved thorn master had made less than two hours ago.
"Do you want this? To feel his hands, his knife…Surrender your body, bleed the right amount of blood…"
"I-I'm no masochist." – Spencer tries again, his voice stronger this time but his eyes betray him, starring deep into my torso, taking in every cut, every drop of dark red.
"Yet you desire. You yearn to feel alive. To feel anything at all, after that God forsaken Abbey…"
He raises his eyes to slowly stare into mines. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are dark and he slowly nods, surrendering to my words and the lump I can feel between my legs. All the sudden, I feel sympathetic. I probably look just like that when Bryan stares at me in bed.
But whatever sympathy I may have is not enough to erase the hate.
"That's too bad." – I purr, running my hand over my cuts until it was resting nicely in my inner thigh. He relaxes. I smile.
"Cause you'll never have it, Spencer."
And my hand squeezes his cock, nails digging easily into the thin fabric of his shorts, twisting to better result. He screams and tries to get away but I don't let him. Oh no, I wasn't done yet.
"Bryan is mine." – I hiss, eyes sharp enough to cut him in half – "He chose me and I'll make sure to be the only one. By any mean I saw fit."
Spencer can only gasp in pain and attempt to nod. I smirk.
I twist some more and let go, getting out of his lap and zipping my jacked up. I can't help but feel a little dirty. This was something Boris would do. Nevertheless, I was content with my actions. It seems Spencer had taken the hint so I would most likely not have to repeat myself. Which gave me some time to spare lazily on the sofa until my falcon decided to come back. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.
At least until my blond friend dropped a bomb. And it was fucking atomic.
"Do you love him?"