Gyahhhhh
I'm so sorry T_T.
I haven't really been updating because a) I'm a lazy ass b)I procrastinate c)Writer's block (which I have….like…what, every other day) d) Plus this week I've got a shitload of tests.
But hey! We'll find out who 'he' is
Shout out once again, to noalunettes and XYomyom (I think this is how you spell it), and the Blind Girl...and TsukiMegamiChanx: Thank you so much.
My heart flutters about like butterfly wings in the capricious wind - …..yeah, you get it, lol.
I've never really taken writing a fanfic seriously, but hopefully this will be some legit stuff.
JR isn't mine…how long do I have to do this for?
Curtains 4
Your answer….is a lie.
Tell me, though, when you whisper in my ear – are you laughing?
Mocking me in my weak, pathetic state, I no longer believe you anymore.
Reminders of my worthlessness.
I refuse to be forced into this dank corner, as you stand above me, smirking. I'll take this, the pain, the terror, the despair. I'll swallow my pride and hurt – I will still stand.
Even the current me, now.
I refuse to be drowned in your venomously honeyed traps.
These tears that gather.
I won't let them slip and slide down.
These tears; they'll never be yours.
"Seven months…."
Is not a long time for him.
Yet for me…
These seven months were bliss, as I waited for this impending, sweet death.
To be free from these earthly chains that shackle me.
For once, my life was in my hands, my fate decided.
It was something concrete, something I could cling to.
Destroyed.
He's come to destroy everything I hold dear.
There's another person present.
The sound of another human's breathing; it's shallow and feminine.
No….
Not again.
He notices the imperceptible shudder of my body when I realize –
"Feigning sleep….it's useless."
He knows me only too well.
The slight rustle of clothes and the gasp of the nurse – her cloying fragrance also mixes in with that of his. He tears open her blouse, exposing her breasts.
I can see the outline of their entwined bodies from the wall that I face.
"Your Father, you know. He misses you a lot."
The sound of lips smothering, languid sucking evolving into harsh sounds of biting and dominance. The groans of the nurse are muffled as he continues to violate her.
She accepts his advances, willingly.
My 'Father'…..
"He loves you enough to bring those whores in from the streets for substitute."
This 'family' that He mentions.
I don't want to hear it.
Terrible lies. The suffering I endured – I never want to go back.
His hands reach down as she runs her fingers through his hair, moaning with pleasure. Sliding down, slowly, he begins.
"Do you hear this? This sound." He snickers and looks back, careful not to wake the sick, sleeping girl.
I clench my fists tighter.
His fingers run up and down her chest – the places where he touches her, I feel like hot, sweltering whips have been painted on, scorching my skin and burning irreversible marks.
These are the places where I have been dirtied.
"See this easy slut, gasping so easily just at my touch."
They move rhythmically together.
Each rough caress, each thrust.
He narrates for me.
My eyes.
I close them once again to avoid reality.
The shame that I feel.
Every time he touches the girl I that I touched; I feel him. The rough hands that sting as he clenches too tight, his even breath in control.
It colors me with humiliation.
The worst kind of degradation, and mortification. I've sunken so low.
My previous actions, he never fails to make me remember.
This is the ultimate suffering I must endure.
Atonement?
No.
It's not.
My.
Fault.
Yet –
This psychological torture I can't help but succumb to.
I'll fall, fall, deep into that hellish, fiery abyss where He reigns as Satan.
Almost, it's almost over.
In an ephemeral moment, both surrender to pleasures of the flesh.
Her heightened cry of lust, his low groan of satisfaction.
Both shudder to a stop.
The girl, she's limp like a broken doll, exhausted from the exertion.
Yet there's more.
His white seed – he slathers his essence onto her face, her mouth.
He's marking his property, making sure no one would touch her again, but him.
She doesn't even respond.
DISGUSTING.
Revolting, it's sickening.
I can't hide my gagging as I choke on my own spit.
I know this sensation full well.
The repulsive warmth, the heady smell. The forceful way -
These images.
They won't go away.
He tosses the nurse to the nearby chair as she collapses.
The soft zip of his zipper, the rustle as he buttons up his oxford shirt and straightens his tie, smoothing down his hair.
As if nothing has happened – the act is finished, the deed is done.
His purpose achieved.
"You're filthy. Just like that skank."
Ha.
These words are so familiar.
The wounds in my heart, healing for seven months, they've been mercilessly torn apart again.
The intricate sutures are gone – only vivid red gashes are left behind, remnants of his destruction.
The crimson red I bleed.
It'll be a long time before it heals again.
He makes a motion to leave.
"Why….."
He stops, momentarily startled by this weak voice.
"If you hate me so much….why…."
His smile grows crueler by the moonlight.
"Why don't you let me die?"
He turns and walks up to my bedside.
"Isn't the answer simple?"
He looks over me.
"When I finally touch this stained body of yours…"
"I'll kill you with my bare hands."
"That's how much I love you… brother."
Haha!
I'd love to hear your reactions
Dropped a bomb on you guys there, did I? But let me clear up some confusion – I hate OCs. I think they're annoyingly stupid and damn retarded when most people use them. Call me a hypocrite, but I needed this "Him/ He" to spice up the story a bit. There's only so many people in JR, you know?
It's a confusing(?) chapter: Shinobu is being treated at the hospital for his sickness (which you guys will have to guess later, I'll give you some clues, it's based on a real disease). He's given ultimate, superior treatment to ensure his survival, I suppose - his 'brother' won't let him die.
Also, for most of the chapter, Shinobu's back is turned, and note his brother never touches him.
R&R!