I don't know why, but I feel exceptionally…light today.
As I kick on my two-wheel, the wind blowing on my face, I can't explain why I feel a sort of excitement. Usually I feel nothing at all, and show nothing at all. Today's a little different. I'm earlier today than usual, and I'm about to surprise my man with more time for us. I think I'm actually smiling right now.
Akira Sendoh, here I come.
---
I settle my bike against a tree from just across the street. I glance at the front of his house. Our house. Well, not officially so, but I spend most of my nights here since his folks are hardly ever around, and so as mine. Well, as if I'd care otherwise.
I step forward, excited as I am, since he's always happy to see me. Very happy. And he makes sure I know so. He makes sure I feel so.
Just as I step, the front door opens. Why does he know I am here already? Oh well. I anticipate his pretty smiling face to greet me. His beautiful face, tall stature, well, I can't describe how well he looks and how I like it.
Lo and behold, here he comes. Wait second. Is he really this short or is it just me? Blue eyes, alright, brown hair. Not even my height.
Fuck.
Who the hell?
As this person was about to turn around, and I step back to my two-wheel's refuge under the shade of the tree. He merely saw me when he was pulled back in.
By the waist.
I am held aback. Seems my brain has blacked out, but my eyes won't tear away front this horror in front of me. Finally, the guy emerges from the shadow inside the semi-opened door. He takes his hand away from wherever it was and put both in his pockets. He turns around and says something, his smile obvious. Oh yeah, I may not hear it but I can read his lips. He starts walking away.
He's the one supposed to be surprised. Not me.
I…I am totally out of it.
'Daisuki da, Akira-kun. Ja.'
The air suddenly thins and my breath comes out in short, trembling gasps. I feel so dumbfounded, I don't know if my brain corrupted due to lack of air or something. This can't possibly be the wrong house and there can't possibly be anyone living in this house but him.
I sit behind the tree and just stare out into space. I want to die right here, right now. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. I don't know if I even want to feel anything.
"Hey there."
Is that my head splitting?
"Kaede?"
My head turns toward the sound involuntarily. Nope, nothing there. Wait. Cheery blue eyes and pink lips curved in a sweet smile. Akira Sendoh.
What should I say? What could I say? I couldn't even think.
------
I stand here, facing the window, tasting the salty air of the dusk ocean. I stare at the sea. Stare. And stare. I don't want to look behind me because I know he is watching me.
After taking my hand and guiding me in, he just sat there at his bed and watched me as I silently stood here. I don't know if he feels the difference in me. Sometimes I wonder why I couldn't read him. Not ever. People say that I am the Ice King, a numb, emotionless bastard. But sometimes…he makes me think twice.
I feel his strong arms encircling my waist. He is looking outside the window with me, his chin rested on my shoulder. He kisses me at the cheek and squeezes me tighter.
"Why, love… you're quite cold today. Are you sick?"
Love? I feel my hand freezing more. And trembling. I try to stop it, but it won't.
"Love?"
He calls again. I pretend not to hear him. I wish I were not here right now, desperately wishing that we were not dismissed early, so that I'm not trembling and cold… maybe if I didn't know, maybe if I didn't see it… it would be better than… than this… damn you…
"Love."
He asks firmly now. I am so sick and tired of you lying at my face. I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or if you're that insensitive, but I hate you for doing it.
"You didn't even bother to tidy up the bedclothes you soiled."
The words were so bitter I could taste them.
And my mouth tastes even more bitter when I feel his smile on the skin of my shoulder as he buries his face into its curve, somehow muffling a chuckle. A smile? What are you trying to tell me, Akira?
"Does it even matter?" He says, and his voice sounded quite…amused.
I think if it weren't for the last bit of pride I got left, I would've fallen on my knees in weakness. Why are you doing this to me? What have I done? Tell me…
He starts nipping at the side of my neck. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the cold of my skin, though I don't feel a thing. I turn away so as to halt what he is doing. I know that didn't deter him. I can feel it as he darts out his tongue to tease my ear. I fight the urge to lean onto him, to this heat he is sharing with me. His hands roam into the inside of my shirt, caressing my chest like he had always done…and I had always liked. Damn.
I am not supposed to be doing this.
Again.
I push him away from me. He doesn't cling onto me again, just looking at me, anticipating what I'm going to say again.
"Did you ever saw me as anything…?"
He smiles again. That smile… it mocks my soul to the core… telling me that I know the answer to my question. And damn… I do. I always did.
He snatches my lips into a feverish lock with his own. I try to pull away but he won't let me. He pushes his tongue in my mouth through my weak lips and I can't do anything about it but to submit. I don't want this… but I do… and I need it so badly. I hate myself for that.
We fall on the bed, his body on top of mine. He starts undoing us both; our clothes scatter everywhere, completely ignored. He's on with his feast with my skin now. I could've died like this, but my dignity wants it otherwise, and will wins over want. I push him away.
"No, Akira…stop…"
And with that, he stops. He looks at me with those unreadable smiling eyes… a truly vile glint mocking me again. I said I want him to stop, but his eyes slap me with the fact that I don't really mean it. That knowing look on his depthless eyes of blue makes me want to die again. Die and get away from this degradation that I am so willingly surrendering to right now. I could almost pretend that compassion and love is what I see in those eyes, but that fantasy will forever be shattered.
He attacks my chest once more, more passionately this time. I do not say anything. I stare at the ceiling. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him doing this to me. I don't want to see him doing this to me and enjoy it.
Shit…I…I can't… It is so much easier to give in. So much easier to let him take over.
I moan and buck my hips against his mouth, arching my back to feel more of his heat. I tug at his hair forcefully, writhing, screaming… nearer…nearer… He stops. I pant heavily as he climbs up to me again, with that look on his face again.
"Do you still want me to stop?" He whispers. He is smiling. And we both know he has a reason to do so.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him for a rather hungry kiss. I don't care about anything now. I just want this. I want this, but I don't need it. I need this, but I don't want it.
And he knows it, far too damn well. He had always known it would come to this. It always did.
Will it always turn up this way? He had done this so many times before and it always ended up like this every single time. How many other men? How many other girls?
How much more?
He penetrates me with much urgency, and starts to thrust. He rides me and rides me… oh gods…why does anything so wrong feel so right? I'm not supposed to do this but I'm enjoying it like hell… My legs clamp around his waist, driving him deeper. I feel a line of warm, frustrated tears trickle beside my eyes and onto the pillow. I don't know if it's from the physical pain or the pain of letting him humiliate me again in my own will. But thoughts just run out of my head as heat starts to take over. I cling onto him, holding on for dear life.
"…Faster…"
"…Please…"
The heights of pleasure catch me and I throw my head back as I come. He doesn't take long after, and his lust explode inside me as he called my name. The essence of his lust. His power. My helplessness. My hopelessness. My desperation. We just staye like that, our chests heaving against each other, our skin slick with sweat. He pulls out after tense seconds and drops to my side. He locks his arms around me. I let him.
Could I really let him do this to me again? Couldn't it really stop?
I am so tired of this. Too damn tired. Who wouldn't get tired of being used over and over? He had always told me he loved me. I couldn't trust anything but his words. Blinded by fake love and desire. I could almost believe he really does. Until he'd do it to me again. Over and over again.
Tired, but I know I couldn't stop. Because as much as I don't want to go on with his games, I am scared of what my life would be like without them. A horrible, disgusting, unending irony it has always been.
There's nothing I could do. I could only live in this fantasy he had created for me, and let every nightmare pass like it's not eating me alive. Tomorrow will still be another day. I just wish that somewhere in the darkness of my thoughts, sleep could claim me.
He kisses me on the lips again and whispers how much he loves me before his eyes flutter close. There is a smile on his lips, a smile that will always mock my soul, a smile that will always tell me that I am weak, a smile that will always tell me this is what I deserve, that this is all I am and all I can ever be.
Who knew what's behind that pretty smile, Akira?