Wounds
Part Ten

The routine is back to normal and I continue as before, though every night I've changed it up. Instead of saving him on the spot, I make him sweat. I make him wonder if I'm going to let it happen, and there are times where it's so close that I can see the cold submission returning to his eyes. I've yet to let that happen again, but I know he's always going to have that suspicion, because of the one time that I let it. He hadn't been lying that night, when he told me that he was tired, because I can clearly see that he is.

This game, that he's become an unwilling participant in, has exhausted him to a point where I'm not sure how long it will be before he collapses or tries to escape from me. What he will do then, I don't know, and I'm fairly certain he doesn't know either. He's just biding him time until it reaches that point.

How many days, I wonder, has it been since this started? How many times has my body been familiar with his? I really can't tell anymore, because they all blend together and much of my day is spent waiting until that point. Our job, of course, has taken us both away from time to time, but I barely recall those moments—if I recall them at all. They just don't feel important to me when there's this man before me. It's maybe an obsession now. It's a dire need to see him through to his breaking point.

I'm not a sadist; I'm just more dedicated than I really should be.

So I lean back when I hear the door open. The book I'm holding is no longer interesting—though it really hasn't been from the beginning. I've been too busy thinking about him to even remember a single word on the page. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only word I remember is the one that triggered my thoughts about him again.

Love.

Because, god, I know that's what my problem is. It's taken a while for me to plainly admit to it, but there's no other way to describe this feeling that I have when I'm with him—in any capacity, really.

He ushers the new man in the room—a face I haven't seen, much like the rest of them. This boy is still clear eyed and probably expectant and I feel that momentary spot of apology for the way I'm going to shut him down like all of the others. It's Kanda who chooses these people, not me, so I feel I have no real need to be polite. My 'companion' can deal with the irritated and denied male afterward.

The click of the door signals the safety zone for their actions and I feel a pair of eyes on me. The Finder is not expecting me here, like a few of the others—who had actually noticed me—but it never seems to stop them. I've been Kanda's 'roommate' for quite a while now—according to the whispers he gives them to sate their curiosity. I'm fine with that. It's not like I'm going to let it go anywhere.

The Finder's hands are all over Kanda's body and I take it in with the patience of a god. I'm allowing it, because I am well aware that it's only going so far…That's what I tell myself while I'm silently itching to throw the man out now. It's awful the way it grinds my gears to see Kanda's head turn so another person can kiss and bite his neck. It's even worse to see Kanda's teeth pulling his lip and his eyes staring off at anything else. This isn't a new thing, but it never gets easier to see.

His hands claw and pull Kanda to him and my fingers curl up into fists. Despite the way my heart races, I hold out. It's necessary to elongate the time between them entering the room and me throwing him out. Mainly because Kanda's temper is touchy and I need him to reach the point where I'm necessary. Sometimes, I watch him and I almost can see how he's trying to want it, but somewhere the attempt fails and I've saved him from that once again.

Kanda is a complicated creature and it baffles me at times. I'm really in awe of his perseverance in oppressing himself in every way he can. It's almost admirable to see someone who disregards himself so much, put so much effort into proving it.

The first pull of clothes and I'm already shifting, because I'm about to get up. This time, I'm not going to be cruel and let the man undress him and get him almost at the point, because I'm not feeling benevolent to the Finder—or malicious to Kanda, depending on how someone could look at it. I'm thinking about the ways I could touch him and make it better—and the ways I want to touch him that he won't allow.

I pause, however, because the silence of the stuffy room is broken by Kanda's voice. It fills the small space like a loud bang in my ears—because it's shocking. It's leaving me staring at him like I have no idea what to think—and really, I don't. Kanda's tongue brought the strong consonants to life when he hesitantly mutters one word.

"…Stop."

It's definitely not directed at me—I'm not even part of the equation at the moment. Maybe that's why it's got me so on the edge of my seat and amazed. With his hand on the man's chest, he pushes him away and drops his gaze to the floor between them. Despite the awkward situation of denying this man, he sticks to it and his hand never drops from where it is—keeping the stranger back. Kanda is pushing him away and insistently at that.

Certainly, the other man isn't too pleased by it, but his hands go up in a motion of defeat. No one in their right mind would actually fight Kanda if he asserted himself in any way. The ones who had no trouble beating him were the ones who had been 'allowed' to do so. I emphasize 'allowed' in my mind, because I know he's never allowed anything. He's never disallowed anything either. Kanda's lack of respect for himself had taken away that privilege.

Until this very moment, Kanda's never been able to make a choice, because he's been deluding and convincing himself of things he's distorted over time. He had warped his own view until he'd lost sight of himself.

As the third man exits the room and the two of us remain, alone, I understand the magnitude of what just took place.

He said no without being forced and without outside interference.

Kanda had made a choice.

A/N: I've made some changes to my uploading of Wounds, the original version is on AO3 and now maintains its 2nd person perspective. I've changed it so that all three parts of this massive series are going to be on one document. Titled by their parts. Wounds being the first, Scars being the second and Traces the final. Wounds will be completed with chapter 13, and will continue from there.