Do Alphas Apologize? (A Cat's and Dog's book)

Sleeping with a demon

-Geoffrey-

I was still awake when Mason began to wake up, yawning and stirring out of his sleep as he pulled me closer to him, cuddling me like a teddy bear. I couldn't work up the will to shiver and try to escape. I simply sat there, staring, until he finally woke up and chose to get up. He sat up, pulling me limply up with him, and smiled down at my dead expression, frowning when he saw the bags under my eyes. They were small, yes, but they were there. "Did you sleep poorly, pet?" He asked the question, but I didn't answer; my body spoke for itself. He hummed, eyes flashing. "Very well, don't speak. You must kiss me every morning when we wake up, understood pet?" I didn't even react, merely letting my body move mechanically to fulfill the orders. My insides felt numb at this point, only a faint stabbing pain hit me with every command. It was bearable that way, at least.

When I pulled away, still expressionless and dead looking, he grimaced, slipping out of bed and walking to the bathroom. I felt my body move, and I walked with him, still hopeless and dead. I'd been ordered to stay near him, and so I'd have to stay near him. Even for this part of the day. I blanked out in the shower, so much so he had to slap me to get me to come back to my senses, what painful ones there were. Why were my senses acting up anyways? It wasn't fair, I just wanted to be my normal self again... but I also didn't. There were slight marks where the shower had managed to bruise me, somehow influenced by my increased ability to feel, and I still felt his hands on me. I felt dirtier than before, but he still dressed me up like a doll. I honestly was his pet at this point, I could only hope he grew bored of me and let me go; knowing sadists, however, he likely wouldn't ever grow bored of my pain.

I walked around, following him all day without ever looking up, ate mechanically when told too, and followed him to bed where we undressed and he held me again. I failed to sleep again, and when we woke up, the bags under my eyes were much more noticeable. I kissed him, because I had too, and got out of bed, waiting for him to go to the bathroom. And so the days passed, with me growing more exhausted every night and him growing more frustrated every night until one day, maybe a week after I'd first woken up, I stood to go to the bathroom and collapsed to the floor. When I woke up again, he was laying next to me; I tried to close my eyes and sleep- I was used to this painful part- but I couldn't make my eyes close, and I collapsed again when he woke up and tried to get me standing. He began staying awake longer and longer every night, his skin growing colder as he lost sleep, and his eyes darkening until he stayed up three days in a row with me, his eyes black as coal from the exhaustion. I only noticed because he didn't stop making me kiss him every morning.

One morning, after I'd passed out as usual, I woke up and he wasn't in the bed with me. I felt confused, but exhaustion hit me, and even as I tried to look around to see if he was there, I passed out again on the bed. He still wasn't there when I woke up again, my bladder aching and my head aching along with it. I went to the bathroom, and when I stumbled my way back into the room, the empty sensation of my bladder faintly uncomfortable, I saw him laying in he bed, facing away from me. I was exhausted, and I felt confused, and a little afraid, but I made it to the bed without falling over. I stood there for a moment, my mind blank with tiredness, and I tried to find the will to sit down, but I couldn't make my tired legs bend; I could feel some faint emotion of sorrowful dread, it was covered by my exhaustion almost completely, but I couldn't make myself touch the bed. I groaned, my legs giving out as I collapsed to the floor with a thud. It was colder here, on the stone floor, but I couldn't find the will to care; I was so exhausted, I fell asleep in minutes.

Next I woke up, I was on the bed again, and Mason was sitting in a chair next to the bed, head drooping as he dozed, and I watched him tiredly. I felt dead, as usual, but I wasn't in pain from my exhaustion. It made me wonder how long I'd been asleep, how long he'd stayed awake and out of bed. I sat there for an hour as I waited for him to wake up, knowing he'd be angry if I got up before him. I didn't want him to wake up, I didn't want to have to feel and taste him against me again, I wanted to forget everything and just lay here forever. Unfortunately, my stomach grumbled, and he snapped awake with a gasp, his breathing heavy and confused as he looked around. I got out of bed, weakly getting to my feet as I stood, hands limp at my sides, and I looked up, staring into his eyes. I leaned forward, resigned, and he put a hand to my chest, stopping me. It wasn't hard to interpret it as a command, and I froze, keeping as far away from him as I could. He watched me for a moment, something breaking in his eyes, and he sighed, closing hem as he bowed his head. "Go take a shower and come back here, wash yourself well, okay?" I straightened, walking soundlessly into the shower.