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WARNING! Hehe, I should start adding everything in the first warning, shouldn't I? This story is rated T for purging/binging also.
Disclaimer: I do not own DGM or the characters.
Bruise
Chapter 2: Ache
"Finally, Jerry's cooking!" I exclaim as I sit at the table Lenalee and Lavi had claimed. Giggling, the pig-tailed girl says, "I guess you missed it on that month long mission."
"A month long mission with the biggest arse in the world," I correct, grimacing at the thought of the said arse.
"Yu's not that bad! He just has something up his butt," Lavi said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Laughing, Lenalee and I agree in unison, "Exactly."
Suddenly, there's a hand slammed down on the table next to me, my plates jarring at the force as the furious samurai growls, "I have something up my butt? Last time I checked, you're the one that can't do anything but whine and get in people's way."
The cafeteria quiets as he begins shouting at me while I cringe, not looking up at him and hiding behind my hair, "Useless! You know what? I bet that finder would still be alive if you hadn't been slacking so much. Can't you even do your job?! No, you eat so much that you're probably slower than a sloth normally is. Maybe you should think about the mission instead of your next meal more often!"
Crack!
"Shut up!" I scream, red blooming on Kanda's cheek from where I had backhanded him. Stepping back, I run out of the cafeteria before he can retaliate and get even, heading to my room. His angry yelling could be head everywhere in the Order, and there were people running and hiding due to it.
People stare at me as I dart through the halls, and a finder even tried to ask me what was wrong, but I ignored him. I didn't care right now anyways.
Tears roll down my face as I slide to the floor, my back pressed to the door, and I huddle up, sobs wracking my body.
Can't you even do your job?!
Crying harder, I whisper, "I can! I'm a good exorcist!"
I bet that finder would still be alive if you hadn't been slacking so much.
"It wasn't my fault! I was surrounded with akuma!" I cry, digging my nails through my shirt and into my arms. Step one to insanity: argue with yourself. Check.
Kanda had a point though. I do eat a lot, and it wouldn't hurt me to stop eating as much. I mean, I couldn't stop eating, because my stomach would annoy him even more, but there was something I heard people did to lose weight. What was it called? Burdging? Pinging? Think….
Purging? I think that was it. Yeah, I could eat as much as I want, but then I just throw it back up. No weird stomach noises or hunger pangs.
I heard there was a finder girl that purged and binged, and no one ever found out until she got help for it. It doesn't give you the super skinniness of anorexia, and if I was careful, no one would know. Heck, no one would care.
Wobbling to the bathroom, I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my hideous reflection. My eyes were red and puffy, the chrome standing out even more, and my foundation was running, the black and blue on my cheeks and around one eye showing through. Why can't I cry in public? This is the reason. First, I draw attention to myself, and then I help by showing everyone my bruises.
I'm quite thankful no one has noticed my change in behavior. When I look at myself, I know that my once crystalline, incandescent eyes now only have a crepuscular luminescence left in them, but it was hardly something a passerby would pay attention to. Right now though, they were utterly and completely rhapsodic, overflowing with despondency and depression. The hair that everyone still sees as pure and snowy was just becoming more appalling every time that I touched it, the locks dirtying, and my shoulders remained slumped when I was alone, not perked like when I pretended to be the effervescent person I once was.
Moving to the toilet behind the wall where the mirror hung and vanity connected, I get down on my knees, staring down into the white bowl, and I bring a hand to my face. Was I really about to do this? Of course, I was.
I didn't want to be a useless exorcist. Maybe someday, I would prove to Kanda that I was just as strong as he was, but that wasn't going to be today. Not tomorrow. It might not before the day I die from an akuma, a Noah, or a razor.
Opening my mouth as far as I can, I shove two of my fingers down my throat and try to force my gag reflex to kick in. It was really uncomfortable, and my jaw ached from being stretched so much. I finally feel my stomach flipping, and I retch into the toilet, my throat contracting disgustingly.
Flushing the toilet, I stand and move to the sink, brushing my teeth twice to rid myself of the rancid taste, and I'm happier, amazingly enough. I mean, I don't feel hungry, just sated, because my body still thinks it's full. Quickly, I wipe away my tears with toilet tissue, and I pump out a little foundation, reapplying it before covering that with powder so it wouldn't slip and slide. Ugh, I feel like such a girl.
My complexion now flawless, I make my way back to my bedroom, flopping down heavily on the bed, and I stare at the ceiling. A smirk spreads across my features as I say, "How's that, Kanda?"
Not a second after the words leave my mouth, the door opens, revealing a furious redhead, and I sit up, scooting back, "Lavi! Um…what are you doing here?"
"Moron! Are you trying to make me look bad?!" he shouts, crossing the space between us quickly, and he grabs me by my shirt before pulling me up from the bed to look at him. Terrified, I shake my head, "N-no, I wa―"
His fist connecting to my jaw stops my excuse, and I fall to the floor hard, a loud thud sounding, but I stay down, knowing that I was supposed to be his object right now. My hair covers my eyes, and he says, "Shut up!"
My back hits the wall as he kicks me roughly in the stomach, my nerves flaring in pain, and I hold back the tears, eyes watering, but I can't do anything. Fighting back wouldn't help. He was just in one of his moods, so it would blow over and he'll get me flowers to make up for it in the morning.
But right now, the hard kicks to my face, chest, and stomach were eliciting yelps and cries from me, and that really didn't help, because Lavi doesn't like me to be loud with anything whether it was when I was being beaten or having sex.
He finally stopped hitting me just to start ranting, "Are you a complete idiot?! Not only did you slap Yu, but now he's mad at me for it! Why can't you be even slightly useful?!"
I cough hoarsely, blood spattering the dark carpet next to all the other crimson stains, and he continues, "What? Can't take a punch? How do you even make it as an exorcist?!"
Silent tears fall down my face, my make-up once again smearing, and I don't move, submissively lying before my boyfriend.
"Get on the bed."
Freezing, I whisper, "Please. I'm sorry, just don't ma―"
"Get on the bed, now!"
More tears roll down my cheeks as I follow the order, and I get on my knees, biting my lip, because I know what's coming.
oO_Oo_oO_Oo
Sunlight filtered through my window and bathed my room in gold. I was lying on my back, and at the moment, I hadn't moved yet, knowing that I would be in a lot more pain than the tiny prick in my butt. Lavi never sticks around, but he had come back at some point, a vase filled with a dozen white roses sitting on the nightstand with a card. Trying not to irritate my body below my chest, I reach out to grab the card, opening it, and I read it.
I'm so sorry for my wrongs…
Allen, I'm sorry about last night. I was out of hand, and I should never have hit you or forced you into anything you didn't want to do. I love you with everything I am, and it won't happen again.
Love,
Lavi
Smiling, I look at the cover of the card, beautiful swirls and designs decorating the front, and I put it back beside the vase. This was the first time he'd gotten me white roses. Normally, he'd get me red ones, or yellow from time to time, but never white, and I just loved these.
Finally getting enough courage, I moved one of my legs, crying out in pain instantly. If I had thought I'd made it without ripping, I was dead wrong. The worst part was that I really wanted a shower, or bath since I doubted my ability to stand, because I felt so dirty and disgusting, but that was going to be hard. I wanted to use my razor, too.
Biting my already busted lip to hold back my agonizing howls of pain, I plant both feet on the floor and attempt to stand, emphasis on attempt. As soon as my weight was shifted, I crumpled down to the floor, tears welling from my eyes, and what makes it better is that if this keeps up, I won't be able to do anything today.
I've never been ripped this badly before. It must have been where he tied me down with rope. Gradually, I forced myself up, dragging my body into the bathroom while I held back my screams of agony, and I eventually settle in the tub, panting. Blood ran down my legs from my wounds opening again, but I didn't care as I laid there, breathing hard and inspecting my new bruises.
When I turned on the water through the showerhead, I couldn't do anything but endure the freezing water until it warmed, pelting my skin with the steaming liquid, and I hissed as it stung the rope burns on my wrists and ankles. The pain eased slowly since I wasn't moving my legs, and I scanned what I looked like. Fresh, purple splotches dotted my stomach and chest, and the ones on the insides of my thighs were nearly black, crescents etched into my hips from Lavi's fingernails. The rope burns on my ankles were seeping blood, coloring the water slightly, and I could hardly see the cutting scars on them.
My first month of cutting had been on my ankles, but I quickly ran out of room, pale marks now crisscrossing the flesh, and I had moved to my arms. A while back I'd decided that once I ran out of room there, I'd continue on to my legs, and that time was approaching rapidly.
Sighing, I cup my hands, sloshing water over my stomach after I turn off the water, and I experimentally press my neck, wincing and drawing back. It was now obvious to me that I'd be wearing turtlenecks for the next week, or at least until the bruise fades. Lavi had choked me the last night, but this was the first time it'd left a mark, not that he strangles me that often. Just every now and then.
The razor stayed in the corner of the tub, so I take it, trying to find a spot to cut, but it takes several moments to find one. When I do, the skin was sliced in less than a second, numbness spreading over my nerves instantly.
Unfortunately for me, I couldn't cut as deep as I wanted to, because I was already bleeding from my butt and rope burns, and I dunk the blade under the water to wash it of my blood, setting back in its place.
Lavi knows I cut, but he doesn't care about it, thank goodness. What would Kanda say if he knew?
I shake my head vigorously. Why would I care about Kanda's opinion?
Pouring some soap into my hand, I rub the syrupy liquid across my chest and the rest of my body, hissing when it irritated my burns and cut, but I ignore it, finishing my bath quickly. Now for the hard part.
It takes every bit of self-control I have in me not to scream as I shakily stand, draining the tub, and I make my way to the vanity, snagging a towel to dry off. The mirror screeched at my appearance, trying to hide its eyes, and I can't blame it. My lips were busted in three different places and my jaw was violet, not to mention that the black eye that had been fading looked even worse than it originally had. There were four purple lines on one side of my neck and a thick one on the other, evidence of where Lavi had choked me. Whoever said that it felt amazing to be choked while having an orgasm was a liar.
After patching up my cut, I pull my hair back out of my face and put it in a cropped ponytail, turning on the sink to wet my face a bit more before taking my bottle of Proactive into my hand. For the record, using Proactive step one, which is extremely grainy, on your face while it's covered in bruises is not soothing at all. It feels like someone is pouring saltwater into an open wound.
Lavi told me that he wanted me to have a flawless complexion, so I use Proactive day and night to keep any acne under control. I mean, I didn't have any to begin with, but just in case I use it. My boyfriend expects a lot from me.
Next, I slip on my clothes, pajamas actually since I didn't plan on leaving my room anytime soon, and I crawl into my bed, over all the bloodstains that paint my white sheets. I need to buy a black bed set. Maybe that will make the scarlet less noticeable.
As I curl up in the blankets, I try to find the least painful position to lie in, but after a minute of struggling and tears streaming down my cheeks, I give up and just lie on my side, facing the wall miserably. My stomach growls noisily, the sound reverberating around my room, but I disregard it, trying to go back to sleep. That is, I tried until there was a pounding on my door. Spewing curses, I grumble loudly, "What?"
"Oi, Moyashi!"
Oh, the joy.
Author Note: I'm just going to go die in a hole now. *Begins digging* Sorry about the short, boring, awful, shameful to myself as a writer chapter, but please, Please, PLEASE R/R!?