Red Raindrops
She shivered in the memory of his greasy skin on hers. His thick fingers gripping tightly onto her waist and his nails digging harshly into her sides. The blood trickled down in red streams from the slice, running down as if they already knew the path to take. The sting, the ring in her ears, the warmth of the crimson raindrops assured her that she was still alive, that she could still feel. But she still remembered; still felt his chest hair on her bare legs, his arms as the clasped onto the back of her legs, nearing dangerously to her ass with every stride he took.
He touched her, and she still felt it on her skin. His touch, his scent, his memory all still ingrained on and in her. The blood begin to slow, trickling down the already created trails much slower than it had when the scars had been opened, the pain began to dull to and for the second time that night she sliced into her china-doll skin.
She'd promised she wouldn't, never again. She'd promised him and he'd helped her through two years and four months of urges, of moments where years ago she would have had to face alone. He was always there to protect her, to help her and she let him. She trusted him. She needed him. But now she was breaking her promise to him because she'd become so weak.
Now all she craved was his touch, his words.
She needed to his to block out Doug's touches, his joking words, his inappropriate touching, his foul skin on hers much like her father's had been years ago.
Her mind ran through it over and over, a never ending scene on permanent repeat. Not even the pain could blank out the thoughts.
The blood spilled onto her turquoise dress, mixing with the mascara tears creating her colour and potion of inky blood.
She closed her eyes hoping for her mind to shut down and sell her soul to the darkness awaiting but it never came and it never would. The cuts were thin and she knew herself that it wasn't there to send her away, to kill her, to force her into the darkness she yearned. It was a reminder that she was still alive, she could still feel and she was here.
She was woken from her trance by the door to the RV being kicked in but she didn't care, she just closed her eyes, squeezing them shut to block out every last trace.
"Jade!" that voice.
"Jade, please," pleading.
"Beck," her whisper followed by the flutter of her eyelashes.
"Why Jade, why?" he questioned, frantic.
She felt his touch, his warmth.
"Jade," sound cut off by his lips on hers.
And suddenly she was back to life; her lips began to move on his, her teeth scraping along his lip, his tongue running along her salt stained lips, tasting before she let him in and their tongues began their dance.
His warm hands cupped her cheek before he withdrew, looking deep into her eyes before kissing his way down, dropping butterfly kisses on her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, all the way down her arm to the source of the red raindrops.
His warm tongue slid from his lips and he began to taste the copper of her blood, at the sensation her stomach clenched in that way only he could make, a moan escaped her lips and he laughed against her skin, against the scar.
The coppery taste made him feel queasy at first but the feeling was soon forgotten as he was intent on proving to her that she was real and he was there for her. Besides with every ministration she writhed and moaned beneath him and every sound and movement was turning this very quickly into a sexual act.
Jade trusting you was like an finding an undiscovered gold mine, there was no way of knowing what would happen next but you found a million beautiful treasures every day.
He removed his mouth from the gash on her arm and looked at the now clean, wet, white skin, he didn't know how she could do this to herself but he would do everything in his power to help her.
"Beck," she whispered her voice a tiny sound even in the complete silence of the room.
He shushed her calmly and pressed a sloppy kiss to her mouth, she could taste the bitter copper on his tongue as she returned the kiss and she forgot why she ever doubted his love for her or his faith to her. She was sorry, many times that he had her when he could have anyone. That's why she hated him being near any other girls, he could notice how they were perfect, they were nice, socialites, rich, gorgeous and whole whereas she was Jade.
Everybody else had one and she had a half which meant that those who were whole had one whole to be themselves, maybe investing half into their relationships but she couldn't, she gave her whole half until there was nothing left to give, she gave everything she had because she had to. Which made their relationship one and a half, meaning that they looked like a problematic couple, which meant they weren't perfect, weren't without their troubles. Having one and a half caused them to be incomplete and wrong in everyone else's eyes. They thought Beck should be a given a whole as a partner and she only a half because it balanced.
They didn't care what others thought though.
He pulled away from her lips, hovering centimetres above her face, looking down at her.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she replied with equal sound.
He moved down to her other arm and removed the trace of sour rivers from her skin. As he finished he pulled her into standing up, his arms wrapped protectively around her back holding her close so that the blood on her dress transferred onto his clothes. He walked them into the bathroom and sat her down on the floor where she sat silently, staring at the marks on her arms.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered as he looked through the cupboard for plasters.
"Don't be, just please, please don't do it again," he said, his tone stronger than he thought he could muster with the lump in the back of his throat.
"Stay with me," she begged, looking up at him as he knelt before her to strap the tiny plasters on her arms. She didn't need them but neither he nor she wanted to see the scars tonight.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, lifting her up beneath her arms until she was standing.
"Let's get you out of this dress," he said, staring at the coppery brown substance dyed into the blue fabric.
"There's blood on your clothes," she pointed out, creeping her hands under his jacket and slipping it off her shoulders.
"I don't think I'll be in them for long," he chuckled, kissing her lips with the passion that you never know until you've been in love. She smiled before succumbing to the kiss, letting him walk her into the room and stand in front of the bed. He slowly pulled the zipper down her back, his fingers tickling her skin as he did so. She shivered at the sensation and the temperature of the room on unclothed skin.
Standing in a strapless bra and matching underwear as well as the thin black tights with the large rip that the side of the RV had done to her when she'd run in she began to remove his t-shirt, forcing him to take his hands off her for a second as she lifted the grey shirt over his head. Once it was off she flung it to the floor and his hands met her hips again, immediate heat flowing from his body to hers.
"Promise me you'll never do that again," he pleaded, dropping a kiss to her lips as she unhooked the button of his jeans from its catch.
"I promise," she breathed, feeling him hitch her legs around his waist to lay her down on the bed
"Louder," he demanded, removing her tights and letting them fall to the ground before climbing back on top of her.
"I promise," she said louder before her lips were silenced by his kisses.
"I'm always going to be there," he said between kisses, "I'll never leave."
"I know," she nodded, breathless.
She removed his jeans and swapped their position, her straddling his waist opposed to him smothering her. She removed the teal hair extensions from her raven hair and threw them away, ruffling her hair.
He brought his hand up to take a ringlet-ted curl in his fingers, wrapping it around his main finger as he stroked her hair with his thumb.
"Thank you," she said silently.
"What for?" he questioned, pulling her down on top of him and moving his hand around to her back, to play with the clasp of her bra.
Everything.
She didn't answer though, just moaned as he removed the fabric from her chest and held one of her breasts in his warm hand, massaging as she rolled her hips on him, causing him to grip tighter until she felt the numb pain of what was the good kind of pain. He moaned as she kept a steady speed, dropping her head down to curtain their faces off as their lips met.
She bit on his bottom lip and ran a tongue along the mark in a frenzy of emotion and feelings as he began to suck, giving her breast one last squeeze before taking both of his hands and grabbing her wrists, tracing patterns on the bandaged skin as he brought their hands to her waist, removing the last item of clothing she wore, before she did the same to him.
That night it rained but they didn't hear the patters on the tin outside, blood boiled in their ears as he thrust into her, making her whimper and bite down on his tanned shoulder. The whole time, her wrists pinned down with his hands, a no touch rule so they couldn't trigger another episode of red, red raindrops.