It was painful. And exhausting
The looks of disapproval. The temporary affection from one man after the other; each ill fated relationship ending like the last. Heart broken, mended and broken again. It was all a sick game to them. Dorians body a pawn to be played with and cast aside.
"Bet you can't even get off unless someone is treating you like rubbish.".
The painful words, spilled from his past lovers lips as a harsh hand collided with his cheek. Followed by a kick when his body met the floor. Blood, bright against his tan skin, ran thick under his nostrils, over his lips. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in his ribs. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, joining the blood to form a diluted mixture which dribbled down his throat and in between his collarbones.
"Julius," Dorian groaned, struggling to breathe through the pain in his ribs and the tears threatening to flow harder causing pathetic sniffles. "Please stop! I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Please!"
Julius merely glared down at him in rage. His once gentle, loving hands now rough and painful.
What had Dorian done? Shown him affection in front of others.
Dorian had assumed their relationship serious, had seriously thought that Julius cared for him enough to ignore the harsh words of others. To turn away from those who view their relationship as wrong or disgusting. He was incorrect. Of course he was only a dirty little secret to Julius. A thing to be played with, same as last time, and the time before that.
In one final fit of anger, Julius grabbed Dorian roughly by his collar. The stronger man dragged Dorian across the room and, in one quick movement, threw him out of his home. Dorian landed harshly in the dirt, coughing at the rising dust. The sting of spit on his cheek.
"Don't bother coming back."
Dorian stared blankly ahead, lost in thoughts of the past. His hand was gripping his mug, knuckles white as the seemingly random flashback shook through his body.
"Hey Vint! Want a refill?" the bartender asked, gruff as ever.
"I… erm… no-no thank you, I think I've had enough," Dorian said, still slightly taken a back by the flashback. He got up, albeit slowly, his hands still shaking as they flattened on the table in preparation to heave his body weight up from the bar stool. He stumbled slightly, almost drunkenly, when his feet touched the ground. Dorian suddenly felt a strong grip on his arm, a barrier preventing his fall, and flinched much more violently then he intended.
"Are you alright Dorian?"
It was Krem. Dorian glanced up, and was surprised at the hint of concern in the Lieutenants eyes. Good actor, he mused briefly, hyper aware of Krems' real feelings towards him. He thinks you're a pompous prick, you're inconveniencing him. "The Chief noticed you were looking a little lost, I decided to come check on you."
Ah that's why.
Bull was one of the few in the Inquisition that didn't look upon him with distain. The hulking Qunari was always kind to Dorian, or at least tolerated him. Probably because he feels bad, the anxious part of his brain helpfully provided. A sudden, burning rage over came Dorian. He wasn't a child, he didn't need to be checked on or cared for, he needed to be left alone! The mage pulled his arm out of Krems grip roughly, causing him to step back instinctively. Dorian shot him a piercing glare, "I'd appreciate it if you let me be Cremisius." There was a dangerous venom to his tongue.
His attempts at intimidation fell short when the only thing he saw in the younger man's eyes were shock and concern.
Dorian grumbled incoherently, thankfully gaining enough composure to stalk his way out of the tavern. After slamming the door, he leaned heavily on the outside wall, the candle that served as his rage well and truly extinguished. The mage covered his eyes with cool hands, rubbing in circles before moving to his temples. It had been years since he'd had thoughts of his past lovers. Years. As the bitter air touched his skin, he felt hollow and tired and small. Maybe some rest will serve me well he thought, beginning the trek towards his Chambers.