Ugh, why did I come here?

Biting my lip, I glance back at his door.

Screw it.

"You came back." He looks up from his bed, but he's not surprised. He just smiles a little and nonchalantly rolls onto his back. "Come here."

Hesitating for a second, I step forward, drop my coat on the floor, and collapse onto Ivan. He holds me tight and purrs in my ear, "I'm so glad."

I curl up into Ivan's chest and listen to his heart beat. His hand runs through my hair and trails down to my back again, sending shivers up my spine.

Here I am, back again. It's going to be different this time, right? I mean, it wasn't that bad the first time...

"Toris," Ivan says.

"Yes?"

"Take off your shirt."

"What? I mean, why?"

"I will explain. We take your shirt off now, da?"

I sit up and straddle Ivan's chest as I warily unbutton my shirt.

"So what is this about?" I question him as I tug each sleeve off my shoulders.

He grabs my waist and flips me face down onto the bed. He presses down on me with his weight, trapping me.

"You're still mine," he mutters into my ear as he crushes me with his chest.

I can hardly breathe with my face forced into the sheets. He lightens his pressure, but still keeps me down.

"You left me. You left me. You..." he trails off, drifting into silence for a second. "I need to punish you for that. You don't even listen to me. Why? Why is that? Tell me. Tell me or I punish you."

"Ugh, I-I..." I choke on my words.

"Continue. Don't lie, Toris."

"It hurt...you hurt me."

"You hurt me, too. But now... Now I am going to make it hurt so much more," he announces, almost apologetically. Quietly he adds, "You'll never want to leave me again."

The glint of shiny, sharp metal catches my eye. I squirm under his tight grasp, but I am a caught mouse under a cat's paw.

The first cut is always the worst. After the knife pierces my back, he unhurriedly drags it along. Each stroke of his knife is like the stroke of a painter, meticulous and precise. I wish I was truly thinking of how his torture is an art, but instead my thoughts were blank.

I bite into the sheets to keep from screaming.

Blood spills from deep slashes, drips down my sides.

"Nn," I moan. He hears me and stops cutting me. As I pant for air, I notice for the first time that hot, acid tears trickle to join blood soaking the sheets.

"I bet you hurt now. Here." I hear him shuffling for something on his nightstand. A bottle pops open and something splashes onto my cuts.

Finally, I scream. He giggles sadistically, then rolls off of me and onto his back.

He takes a swig of vodka and smiles.

"Now, if you are good, I never have to punish you. Be good, da?"