A Wanted Submissive

28

Gabriel had a ritual. This is what he thinks about as he drives home with his father.

His hands are stiff with drying blood and he repeats to himself each indavigual step to his ritual, to stop his hands from clawing at his own skin.

His clothes and hair are dirty he hated it enough to make him irrational but to keep himself still and cling onto the single thread of sanity that normally keeps itself together within a cacoon of order. He repeats the steps to his ritual so that nothing will penetrate his mind.

He would have cleaned himself at the
Warehouse but his father had been anxious to see his wife and admittedly... he was anxious to see Orian.

Despite her behaviour he missed her. Missed her smell and the way her eyes followed his every movement. Expecting every momvent to be a sudden pounce in her direction.

He smiled to himself just thinking about it. He wondered how she would react to seeing him.

He knew how he wanted her to react... if he allowed his mind to wonder there he could see it.

How she'd see him, the look in his eyes and notice how much pain he was in. He could see her slowly trying to overcome her aversion to him.

All to hug him as though her arms could hold him together. Even just a few pieces of him.

He could see her washing his skin perfectly following the ritual he used to get himself clean. And then he was home.

He noticed as soon as the car stopped. And reacted almost on instinct.

He was out of the car and heading to his room with as much composure as he could muster. He didn't believe his father would notice how off-kilter he was seeing as he was distracted with thoughts of his wife.

Still the fear that his father would notice kept his pace somewhat steady and average. He was up the stairs in no time but hesitated in front of his door.

She was in her room. He knew and his thoughts wondered off to his daydream for a moment. Quickly He brushed it off though.

Understanding that Orian would never do that came quickly and anger came with it. Resentment.

He entered his room and chose to forget about her if not for a moment. He would punish her later he told himself. Though actually, he just needed to see her. As angry as he'd been.

He also rememberef his first kill and... how his own father had reacted to his moment of weakness. The single time he himself had ever begged.

The memory made his heart soften momentarily. If not with understanding for Orians struggle, with the person she simply had to become than with the subtle realisation that he had become his father.

Or at at least he was to her who his father was to him. The thought pained him. He needed to do his ritual, his skin burned with need.

But the thought actually froze him regardless. He didn't know what to do. He saw himself in her for a striking moment. The version of himself that had existed in childhood and was weak.

He knew what was right and expected. He knew Oriana had to learn and he had no choice but to be her teacher. He had no choice but to punish her. He had no choice but to mold her.

He knew this but some distant part of him wanted her to... To love him. Almost as though in doing so some version of himself could love him. Could see what he'd become. The darkness in which he was shrouded and still somehow....

The thought festered and though initially it had frozen him now it pushed him forward. He wanted to distract himself and to feel clean. He wanted to stop imaging.

But he knew that he could not and would not control his thoughts if his body was still unclean and covered in the evidence of what had just ensued.

He entered his bathroom and began his ritual. With each scrub from his head to his toes he began to calm and so did his thoughts. He was in control.

He kept the thought repeated in his mind like a physical talisman he could hold to calm himself.

Eventually he was clean. Every trace of the night completely and utterly erased from view and as a result it might as well not have happened.

This was the norm for him. All of it was real but only until it could not be seen. Once the evidence was gone none of it ever happened and he was okay. He was in control.

All of it was gone but the thought of Oriana remained. He wanted to go to her but instead he sat on his bed and let his thoughts overwhelm him for a moment.

Why had he taken her? Why her? There were other options. Fiercer more beautiful women who would have fit perfectly into his world.

Strong and dangerous and meant to rule beside him. So why her? He pictured her face in his mind.

Small and round and glowing beneath the clear brown of her skin. She never smiled but you could tell by the look of her eyes that her beauty was meant for joy.

She would be breathtaking if a smile ever did touch her lips. If peace relaxed her features he would bring the whole world to its knees and hand it to her.

Nothing else could measure up to how breathtaking that peace would make her. He wanted her for her naivity. How she just bent beneath him and trusted him and actually thought he could make her happy. He knew that he could not.

Gabriel dropped his head into his hands and sighed. It truly was an inigma. He'd chosen her because she was likely the most unfit person he'd ever met to live in this world of his.

This life of kill or be killed. He loved her for it and as he slowly took it away from her. That innocence he craved; he hated her.

A/n: Happy belated new years guys. I missed y'all ❤️❤️❤️