Sex Camp (18+)

Chapter 30- Faye | Rouge

Chapter 30: Rouge

Whenever Faye Watson closed her eyes, the color that blanketed her wasn't black. It is, for most people the black that gives them comfort in times of need. The shield that your lids provide from the poisonous colors of the outside world works as a stopper. Her stopper stopped being black a while ago. Now her shield was a crimson red, the same pigment that flows through the veins of organisms and the color that makes her want to scream till her voice isn't hers anymore.

She had the cabin to herself, she sat on the floor with her back to the bed and she stared at the same red spot on the wooden floor for what seemed to drag on until time was effortless. Alex had left with Marie before Faye even got out of the bathroom. 

The red spot on the wooden floor splattered like heavy ink in her brain, the image leaving white noise surrounding her. Taking her back to the memories blanketed underneath her thoughts.

The psychiatrist had always asked her what she remembered. She would always answer the same. All she could remember vividly was the disassociation. It started with touch, she cancelled out everything she felt, the fingerprints on her skin. Then smell, then taste, then sound, the last sense she closed off was sight, as she closed her eyes for what felt like it would be the last time. 

Merriam Webster's first definition of the word is of the herb. She googled what the word meant every day for a handful of months after it happened. Faye never understood why the first definition is about Brassica Napus.

She felt the tear slide down her cheek, and moved her head down as if she could see it too. Gravity caused it to fall down and shatter on the floor. The wet droplet no longer in its original structure. She moved her eyes from the wet dark spot that her tear left to the red spot across from it. 

There was a slight tapping on the door that startled her from the recesses of her thoughts. She looked towards the lock and key that separated her and the surrounding. It was a small mechanism that she owed her life too. She knew that the figure standing outside was Alexander. She could feel his energy, even through the wood - it hummed and strung her up like chords in a melody. 

It hurt her how much she still wanted him, even after seeing her cradling another girl in his arms and then pushing her away as if he was just caught with her heart in one of his hands and a sledgehammer in the other. 

"Je sais que tu es là mon ciel" he whispered from behind the door. Their was a slight afternoon drizzle and Faye hadn't noticed but the sun was already starting to set. (I know you're there my heaven) 

She was not about to get up, she stayed exactly where she was, and let the disassociation swoop over her once more. 

She ridded her memories of his touch from this morning. Slowly, she remembered the warmth that swallowed her as they rubbed against each other, the heat that travelled all the way down to her toes and tipped over her body acting as a catalyst to every other feeling. 

"Don't do this, Faye... nothing is going on between her and me" Alex whispered, his voice slightly blurred with the rain. "You're all I want baby, please" 

He smelled so distinctly of cedar wood and raspberries, from the moment she figured out the mixture of scents, it intoxicated every sense of her being. Dragging her down, letting her fall into it, providing comfort. She shut off the emotions that carried through whenever she smelt him, and she replaced it with other scents. 

She heard him curse and bang his fist against the door "Faye, please. Fuck, please"  he begged, his voice cracking at the edges. "Not now, not before we even have a chance" 

Faye felt herself wince at the words. This was not a tragic love story told to poets and writers. This was real life, and sometimes, the grass is greener on neither side. Sometimes you don't even have grass to land on. 

The first time they kissed, Faye let broke down one brick from her wall. It was a start, a beginning. His taste travelled through her, and she slowly found herself coming back to the construction site and willingly take down more bricks from the wall she put up. It was a hard effort and each gave her an amazing result. 

It's good to realize she thought, no matter how great a person can be, at the end of the day, it has to be you that has that control over yourself. No one is coming in silver armor to save you, no one gives a damn, because they are too busy trying to save themselves. 

"Elle est venue à moi à cause de Jonathan, Faye. Je ne te mentirai pas. Nous étions dans une relation il y a longtemps, mais elle a toujours appartenu à lui. Tout comme tu seras toujours à moi. S'il vous plaît..." He spoke in a harsh and rough outline. His voice lower and lower as the rain overpowered every other sound. (She came to me because of Jonathan, Faye. I will not lie to you. We were in a relationship a long time ago, but she has always belonged to him. Just as you will always be mine. Please...)

Sound. Every little sound that broke her a little bit less. When he said her name, when he called her his heaven. Alex's voiced ringed through her mind, bouncing off more and more of what they spoke to each other. His voice was never light, he carried so much through the deep tone, as if every syllable had a new meaning, of a language she hadn't discovered yet. But everything about him, was light. Not in the same way, but light through the darkness. A little glimmer of hope that she closed off, and tucked away. To put with all the other red spots in her mind. 

She didn't close her eyes this time. She stared and stared angry at the red spot on the floor for making her this way. Angry and angry and angry. She wouldn't disassociate from sight this time. She would let it consumer her instead.  Alex's voice faded out and nothing existed except her and the bright red entity of her being. 

It came to life, and as she stared - her eyes still fixed on that red spot. She replayed her own definition of the word. Although, Merriam Webster gave the first definition of 'rape' to a seed. Hers was a blazing carnal ghost that haunted her past dressed in rouge. 

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