⛓ • we'll never have sex ;; peter ballard ;; ❤︎

two

You're holding the new clipboard to your chest, your notes safely tucked under the silver clasp. Your heart is pounding sharply against your ribcage so hard you're afraid the bones will snap.

You don't know why either, as your bones were never brittle. Having been an avid fan of dairy products despite your lactose intolerance. But it doesn't matter how strong your bones are, as currently you wished they'd break. Snapping before you have to step up to Dr. Brenners desk to present your notes.

The way his disappointment seems to shadow over you makes your gut twist in a way utterly unpleasant. He, of course, would be pointing out the elephant in the room so to speak.

"Please, take a seat."

You walk forward, each step is, in a way, condemning yourself to damnation. You lower yourself into the cold plush white leather of the chair, trying to distract yourself by looking around the plain room.

There is no decoration whatsoever, nothing covering the walls or any picture frames with cute sentiments.

Your leg bounces up and down nervously and it seems that he is waiting for something. You don't know what, and it feels as if your lungs are being constricted by your anxiety. And you try to smother it by thinking of your angel, the most gentle man on Earth. Push it down, down, down.

But it only makes it worse, remembering the situation that had occurred on your way to get a new clipboard to replace the one you had snapped. You're trying not to cry, your nerves alight with perturbation.

Peter, in the middle of the hallway, had made you breakdown crying. He's the devil disguised as an angel on your shoulder, whispering to you and influencing every action you make. And if you dare defy him, he'll leave. You cant lose him, and in the middle of that hallway you thought you were going to die when he walked away from you.

Then it all goes away. Your thoughts of Peter, your anxiety, your shaking hands. Dr. Brenner raises an eyebrow, his eyes glancing from the clipboard to your face. Your notes. He just wanted to see your notes.

You feel stupid now, handing him sheets on sheets about each child and their progress. What activity they had been doing while in the Rainbow room, the desired results and what actually occurred.

Your erratic and frantic pulse slows when a smile takes the place of the deep frown embedded onto his face. You're relieved, very obviously by the way your straight posture slouches just a bit before fixing itself.

"Your observations are well written as usual, thank you for your work. But before you leave, I'd like to address something with you, (Y/N)."

You stiffen, your whole body going rigid. You feel like you can't breathe, and your long nails clip into your skin through your stockings. You're glancing up to the side, trying to avoid eye contact.

"You and...Mr. Peter. Whatever is going on between you two, well.." His voice demands your attention, and you force your eyes to flicker back to his. "It will stop. It's highly unprofessional and I expected far better from you. You know relationships are against the rules."

"We weren't- we aren't together, sir." You try to respond as clearly as you can, but you're mumbling. If you speak any higher than a whisper you're sure your voice will crack due to the whirlwind of feelings spinning inside your chest.

"That's not what the cameras saw. Especially in front of the children? What happens if you influence them and they become distracted?"  You suck in a deep breath, letting your eyes look back to your fidgeting fingers.

"I'm sorry, sir. I will no longer interact with Peter." You wish you could go against him, follow your primal instinct to let Peter ravage all that you were. But, you couldn't. It wasn't your place to go against the rules.

"I'm glad you understand." Dr. Brenner places a heavy hand on your shoulder, it does everything but soothe you. "You've always been so helpful. Oh and, don't feel bad. Peter isn't the greatest of company, I assure you.

You gather up the last pieces of your pride to smile at him, stand and walk out of his office with your head held high. The second you step out, however, you're overcome with sadness and somewhat grief.

But Peter was your everything, how were you to live without him? In a matter of minutes your world had been torn out from under your heels, leaving you drifting through space without air.

Aware of the camera monitoring you, you straighten. Tucking strands of lose hair behind your ear and collecting yourself. You harden your heart, beginning the brisk and yet lonely walk to your office. Perks of being the head nurse you suppose.

It's been hours, and you've long forgotten to check the clock on the wall to make sure you wouldn't forget dinner. Organizing paperwork on the children's physical and mental state is quite the vexing task. How they've been progressing, and what you may be able to do to push them harder. Closer to success, closer to completion. Ways to avoid them getting injured, etc.

You suck in a deep breath when a fantasy of your angel replaces your thoughts, and you lean back in your chair. Your legs crossing and uncrossing multiple times, trying to subtly soothe the ache that had blossomed between them.

You didn't know why you were like this, and you couldn't quite say you enjoyed being this way either. You had once been completely dedicated to your work, drowning yourself in it to distract from the guilt that threatened to eat you alive. At the start you had been stumbling around in the darkness of your own self pity.

And in your panicked confusion. Alone in the fog, you had stumbled upon a worse monster than any kind of feeling. One who would eat you whole, take all you were and give nothing back. Alive, breathing and bleeding and yet not feeling. Not understanding nor empathetic.

But who were you to run from him, you had opened your chest willingly. Let him crawl inside of you and squeeze your heart until it shaped around his fingers, this was your fault. And now you'd pay the price.

Peter would be so angry, so disappointed in you. How could you do this to him, how could you leave him behind all because your boss said so? All you've ever been is obedient, so why was it that you didn't want to listen to your boss?

The door to your office abruptly snaps open, and you jump having been lost in your thoughts. When your eyes meet the color of the ocean, you wish you could melt into your chair.

The smile on his face is everything but sweet, downright sinister as he stalks towards you. "You didn't show at dinner, I was waiting for you, you know. Why is that?"

You swallow thickly, crossing your hands over your desk and looking up at the man towering over you. "I apologize, I was finishing up some work."

Peter walks behind you, and you stare at him until he completely leaves your field of vision. Your hands are shaking vigorously by the time two of his hands rest on your shoulders. Massaging the tight muscles and forcing you to relax, your shoulders drop and your breathing evens out slightly.

He leans down, whispering softly in your ear. "What's wrong? Hm?" You suck in a deep breath when he nips your ear, and you tense again. His hands cage you in your seat, not allowing you to move.

"I am no longer permitted to speak to you, I am sorry, Peter." You speak slowly and quietly, praying he'll leave you alone and that if he doesn't he'll at least stay with you tonight.

"Mmm..but is that what you really want? I think that you don't know what you want or need. You need me to direct you or you'll get lost, won't you, bunny?"

Peter finds humor in this, comparing you to the animal he had slaughtered the most times during his short lived childhood.

You're breathing heavily now, shaking in the white leather of your seat as he leans further into you. You know that his posion is digging further into you, affecting your brain and hypothalamus. Maybe that's why you desire him so.

Nothing good can come from this, from him. And yet here you are, drawn to the cold of his hand and the sweetness of his voice. The promise of safety in his arms pulls you closer, and you're burying your head in the crook of his neck. His scent filling your nose and head.

And before you realize that you're dooming yourself, admitting to him that you're too weak to survive without him.

You nod.