Ruin Maketh Me

85 - Don't abandon me

I pull my night shirt over my head, drying my hair with a towel. These days have passed neither quick nor slow, but even in the countable time, I've gotten used to this solid calm of being part of something else with someone else. Amidst the cooking, the scavenging with Asier through the empty streets, the after dinner talks with Eirwen, the dark waters of Before have seemingly faded now into mere smudges. To think that being around affectionate people could smooth away the blurred nightmares and visions...
Smooth fingers gently tug the towel from my hand and wrap around strands at the back of my head.
"You missed some."
Eirwen's scent encloses around me again. I smile and look down, cheeks heating up in a familiar warmth.
     "Maybe you should have me dry your hair next time."
     His cool breath blows stirringly against the back of my ears, "If that's what you want."
     His fingers shift through my hair, and patting my head, he draws away. I raise my brow and pull him onto the bed besides me with a quick hand. The towel flies out of his hand, and he lands half sprawled on my lap, sensual lips subtly open. No longer able to fight the itch in my hands, I grab his face between my fingers.
      God, this sensation, it's like running my hands over silk. My fingers play over his cheeks, the outline of his nose, the corners of his mouth, the tips of his brow, not one place on this beautiful, handsome, godly face remains hidden from my touch. How can I allow it? This Idol, right now, it's me, not Elijah, not anyone else, who's deep enough within his heart and mind to touch him the way I want.
      "What is it?"
      My lips swing upwards, and a light, crisp laugh bursts into the candlelight, "No, sorry, it's just that your face always looks like you've had too much Botox. I just wanted to feel it to make sure."
     Eirwen's head tilts against my abdomen, and his hair spills over my knees in a river of gold, "Botox? Is that another, what was it called... chemical?"
     "Yeah, it's used for cosmetic purposes. People like to inject it into their faces."
     "I was born with this face." He grips my wrists, moving my hands over his icy visage to the tickle of his fluttering lashes.
     "Yeah, I know," I smile, "It's just that people who've had too much Botox have rather stiff faces." I draw a fingertip down the curve of his cheek.
     His long fingers loosen from my wrists and interlock above his stomach. A coolness seemingly permeates from his skin and dampens the wavering orange glow of the candle. My smile twitches and fades slowly. Fuck, he's angry.
     "Am I," He pierces me with his mercury eyes, "really that emotionless?"
     A heaviness crawls across my chest, and I cup his hard jaw, "You don't show much expression on your face, that's true."
     His jaws tighten.
     "But you're far from being emotionless. When you're angry or irritated, you interlock your hands like this," I draw a finger across his knuckles, "And when you're happy or excited, there's a small wind that blows through your hair. Hmmm..." I tap the corners of his mouth, "And when you're horny, you have a habit of biting  your lips so they look more red. Do you want me to go on?"
     Eirwen's fingers loosen, and his arms wrap around my waist, a small breeze ruffling his hair like ripples over a lake, "Those things... Yes, I suppose you're right. I never too too much notice."
     "Pfft." I laugh, tracing the neutral set of his eyes, "I have a good eye for body language."
Silence falls over us, and I smooth my thumb over the soft hairs of his brow.
"If you'd like to learn, I can always help you smile."
His lips twitch and jerk upwards like a broken automaton, "Like this?"
"Well, yeah, but don't forget your eyes too." I nudge the curve of his eyes.
Eirwen's arms tighten, but he sits up slowly from my lap, "I don't understand how to do it. I like seeing you smile and laugh, but if I do it, I feel like I'm forgetting."
I watch him, candlelight splashing his pale skin an orange gold.
"My father made the mistake; he loved my mother very much. So he always thought that I had no right to be happy."
My heart tightens, and I clutch his cold hands, but no words seem appropriate enough to say.
     "...Sorry."
Cool lips caress my temples, "No, you don't have to be sorry, it all happened a long time ago. I just don't want our son to be like me. He's gotten much better after seeing you again."
     "That boy?"
     A flurry of bright images framing Asier's beautifully big smiles swirl through my mind. Like Eirwen? Never, not in this manner, not with those mega watt grins and that tinkling laughter.
He smooths over my hair and stands up, casting me another twitching attempt of a smile, "You don't need to think too much about it. Good night, I'll see you tomorrow morning."
     "Ah, yes," I look after his glittering hair, "you too, Eirwen."
     The door clicks softly shut behind him, and I throw myself onto my pillows. And even though he told me not to fret, I can't help but think back through his words over and over. Perhaps, only now am I starting to get to the depths of Eirwen and Asier. Their past... How would it feel, growing up knowing that you killed your mother? Sorrow? Anger?
      I flop my hands over my eyes. I don't know. I can't fucking imagine it. If that woman had died from the very beginning, perhaps I would've been a little more happy. I wouldn't have felt an inch of guilt. I think, I felt happy when she really did die. So what would it feel like being blamed for someone's death? Maybe something agonising like an ever-present shadow cast on the wall or a string tied to your foot, tugging and tugging— Blue eyes burning like ghost fire, limp platinum hair, cracked lips, "You did this to me."
     Fuck, that's it, that shitty feeling right there. That's how it feels isn't it? And does Eirwen breathe everyday, dragging that baggage around? No wonder his face is always as cold as stone. I turn onto my side and stare at my hand, burning darkly saturated in the flame light. Should I tell him about myself? About the slums and the clubs and the rapes, the men, the women, Dan, Jacques?
     It's all in the past anyway.
     "Mama?"
     I sit up, and Asier's small face shines into existence in the crack of the door, "What did I say before Asier?"
     His cheeks burn pink, "Sorry... dad."
     Smiling, I beckon him forwards, "What's wrong? Come in."
     "Dad," He walks barefoot over to me, "You're not going to leave us, right?"
     I stroke his head and rearrange his cotton pyjamas, "No I won't, I told you before. I won't disappear off to nowhere."
     Asier twists his small hands, and a rare look of inconfidence crumples his dainty features, "It's not just me, papa really needs you too. He doesn't show it much, but he really does want you to stay, not just because you're my mama. I've never seen him so happy when you came back."
      My heart expands, and I sigh, placing my hands on his shoulders, "Have more confidence in your dad hmm? When I say I won't leave, I mean it, not you or your papa. I won't abandon you two like that." I cup the back of his head and stare into his storm-filled eyes, "I love you, so believe in me."
     Asier's jaw loosens and he plants a warm kiss on my cheek, "I believe in you! I still want to hear more stories."
     I laugh and ruffle his hair, "Go on to bed now, I'll tell you more stories tomorrow."
     "Yes!" He bounds out of the room, leaving behind a golden stream in the air like his father.
      Rolling into the sheets, I blow out the candle and let the nighttime dullness descend over the small room. What do I do? Those two... I really can't leave them, so if Ralphus can't accept it, then...

      'It's here, sorry...'

     Sleep smoulders and bursts into flames away from my mind.
     Burning. Everything's burning. I'm burning into ashes. Throwing the sheets off my body, I stumble out of bed, sweat pouring out of me like I'm something made of water, not flesh and bone.
      "Eirwen, Eirwen, god." I gasp, stumbling across the floor.
      Everything is hot. Every inch of my limbs and body are drenched in heat. And that place, that place between my legs, it won't listen, nothing's listening anymore, not my mind, not my voice, not my feet. Need someone to extinguish this fire, need someone to help me. Help!
      I tumble to the door, fingers shaking so much, the door handle won't open properly. Being burnt alive, now, I'm going to explode. Sweat drips to the floor, drip, drip, drip. Click. The door swings open, and I stagger out, the heat between my legs eating away at my mind. Eirwen, where's Eirwen? The landing spins blurrily around me through the sweat and tears.
      Lurching forwards, I fumble with the door handle opposite mine and fall through, into the room. Coolness kisses my feverish skin, and all I want is to freeze this insufferable heat! My saviour. My ice. I crash towards his bed and scrabble against cooling sheets.
      "What's wrong Cynder?" He asks, sitting up, rubbing his eyes.
      "...Please~ Eirwen..." The burning between my legs devour me whole, and I rub myself against his solid abdomen, a wave of pleasure subsiding the terrifying fever.
     A spark of red flushes under his eyes, but his cold hands grab my arms, and another spike of comfort fizzes through my blood.
     "What's going on? This..." His molten silver eyes course over my body.
     Need him, need more, need to get this out. My shoulders tremble, struggling against his iron grip. Please give it, I'll die, can't live!
     "I need youu," I slur, fumbling at his pants to the hardness poking through the fabric, "Need this, pleaaasssseee~"
     His eyes widen, "You're going through your heat!"
     I squirm out of his grip and clasp him around his neck, grinding myself against the growing hardness beneath me. Feels so good! More, more!
     "No, Cynder," Hands tug me away from the pleasure, "I'm not your panther."
     My hands scrabble for him, but he pushes me away firmly. Another wave of fire chars me, and pain radiates from inside out. Please, god, please, just give it to me, please.
     "You don't want to give it me?" I cry, tears streaming down my face, "Please, please, I'm going to die, please!"
     Coolness runs through my hair and tingles through my scalp, "But I'm not your Beastian, I'm Eirwen."
     "I know!" I howl, grabbing for him, "Eirwen, Eirwen please!"
     Tearing away from his hands, I grasp onto my ice, my saviour. The unspeakable itching increases deep within, and I pull at his pants. Need his hardness! Need his thing inside of me, now.
     "Mhhhn." He pants, "I need your consent. I'm not your panther, I'm Eirwen."
     "Yes, yes, yesss," I tear apart his shirt and melt into his cold iciness, "Just take me~ Eirwen!"
     The cruel grip loosens away.
     "Fuck." He pants in my ear.

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AN: Hot stuff next chapter, gonna go and read a ton of omegaverse manga to get some good inspiration! ^ 0 ^