The Great Below

The Burns: Part 3

It was hard to see the bathroom faucet through involuntary tears while manipulating the handles with the sides and backs of clumsy fingers. The cold water stung before it did any good. The room was filled with the sound of splashing and her loud, shaking breath. It would have been faster to use the kitchen sink, but she'd wanted so keenly to get out of the room and away from Victor.

She cursed herself quietly for thinking she could please a monster. From the hallway, Victor tried to say that he was just keyed up because it was his last match. That tonight was important and he was nervous about his new job. More useless sensory information on top of her burnt nerve endings.

Octavia let the water run, ignoring him, and eventually he went to the kitchen to clean the mess himself. It was a small victory, when she compared it to the damage he'd done. She tried to stop the faucet and leave, but the burning rushed back quickly each time, and she would return to the sink. She might have to spend the entire night like this. A part of her thought she'd earned it, for thinking she could be safe with Victor if only her performance was flawless.

"Stupid," she murmured, the word vanishing in the rush of tap water. "Stupid, stupid."

Victor returned with a bag of ice cubes in water, offering it to her so she could finally abandon the ball and chain of the vanity sink. He led her silently toward the living room couch, where the packages he'd brought home waited.

"I can help open them if you want," he told her.

She nudged the lid of the top one to find a pair of blue canvas sneakers. Victor then set those aside so she could open the bigger one – a soft, pink sweater. She ran the undamaged backs of her fingers over the sweater and poked them into the shoes. Relief, when she didn't encounter the black ring box. She squeezed the ice with both hands, letting the numbness wash over them.

"You're going to need them, like you said."

"They're nice," Octavia replied, because she couldn't make herself say thank you. Shoes and a sweater just weren't going to cut it. Two articles of clothing did not equal I'm sorry for assaulting you. Victor could have lit himself on fire and it still wouldn't have been enough.