Hey Baby

Chapter 40

This was not written by me.  This chapter was incredibly written by @_Thing_Two .

"Tell me something real about you that isn't filtered into a fucking pool of lies." He was staring at me, his eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights and he was stiff as a board. I felt him slowly letting go of my wrist and he was pulling away, turning around. I was shocked, I had never seen him like this before. He looked back at me, his face a mixture of fear and frustration, his eyes still something unreadable. He moved slowly, almost as if he had been hit with some sort of tranquilizer, his entire body nearly shutting down. I held my breath, looking at the male in front of me who was leaning over the counter, letting his raven hair hang in front of his face limply. Hesitantly, I moved to his side, my entire body screaming at me in disagreement. I swallowed thickly, placing a hand on his back, not realizing what I had done. And in an instant, he spun on his heel, snatching my hand into a tight grip, moving his feet against mine to push me back into the countertop. I felt my chest tighten, the oxygen in my lungs draining out of my body, taking my color with it. I closed my eyes, awaiting his next move as his hand tightened around my feeble wrist, pressing closer against my frame with his own when I hit the counter top. I felt his warm breath bouncing from my face and I refrained from turning my head, opening my eyes to meet his. They were blazing with rage, his grip signifying his growing anger, my first instinct being to fight back.

But he easily held me back, overpowering me with a quick move, my arms pinned to the counter. I felt tears poking at my eyes and my chest rose and fell, his pheromones making my head pound in fear. I was waiting for him to scream, to feel his saliva spraying at me as he screamed at me in a burst of explosive rage, but it never happened. He just held me down like this for what felt like days, throwing me back before walking away, his back facing towards me in neglect, his fists bawled. I rubbed my bruising wrists, tears spotting my face in warm streams and I realized for the first time he had walked away from me without a word. I was watching him walk upstairs, away from me, his entire pose beyond pissed but he was restraining himself for whatever reason. He confused me so much with the way he was willing to hurt me, to carve into my skin, make me bleed and scream, but he restrained himself this time. He held back the rage and the pain in his eyes stormed in his green eyes, and had enough decency to walk away from me. A few months ago, I would probably have been dragged away into the red room for that seeing I most likely would have fought against him more than what I had just done. I moved to the couch with my shaking legs supporting my body just enough to make the short trip to the leather furniture. I sunk down into the luxurious item, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was still holding, my eyes catching the glints of the different pieces of art setting on the mantel neatly. Most were arrays of either metals or white marbles, glinting with the sunlight. I was suddenly aware of how cold the room was, feeling a cold shiver shoot down my spine, pulling my knees to my chest. The house was almost silent other than hearing the settling of the walls, looking towards the large window where I watched snow begin to fall in a soft blanket, piling onto the already fallen flakes, sighing quietly.

I fidgeted with the seems on the couch, trying to keep my shaking hands busy when I heard the creaking of the stairs. Expecting Damiar, I raised my head to see Eric, quietly lowering my head while Ethan followed behind him quietly, his head turned down to the floor. I could see the marks on his neck, my skin crawling against my bones at the thought of anything of those natures happening between me and...Him. I sat quietly, hesitantly getting up. I could feel someone's filthy gaze burrowing into my skull and I headed up the stairs slowly. I heard the scratching of a record, my brows furrowing when I looked at the upstairs. It was simple, compared to downstairs, much more homey than what it was and I took a deep breath of the oaky smell instead of the suffocation pumpkin stench I had faced for the past few months. I moved towards the sound of the record's soft scratching, listening to some sort of soft blues music start, some shuffling following soon after. The door was closed and I leaned against the tall, white wood, letting my hands trace the carved grooves of the material. Some sort of soft singing flooded from the other side and I could've sworn for a second, a soft cry was heard. I raised my head, confused and my brain started racing. Everything that had happened a few moments ago in the kitchen replayed on a loop cycle, trying to put the pieces together. The way he walked away from me silently without a single drop of hesitation made my heart nearly stop seeing that these actions were never performed or even thought about from Damiar's cryptic brain.