Eclipse of the Moon Ch. 07

"Fuck you." This time, there was no hesitance. No stiffness. No warning as everything became completely, and utterly, unmanageable.

It was sudden. Sharp. Like the snipping of an invisible thread that she hadn't known was holding her together. Pushing him had been the rope fraying... but this... this was a complete separation. A definite breaking of whatever finite resources had been guarding her resolve.

Suddenly, she was thrashing under him, a violent frenzy that poured out of her like water from a dam that had just been cracked wide open. Her hands were up, pushing against him, hands ramming into whatever parts of him were within her reach. They punched, pulled, scratched... wanting to mutilate him in ways that her brain wouldn't register as being humanly possible.

"Fuck you, fuck you; Fuck. You! I fucking hate you!" she screamed as she barrelled her fists as hard as she could against him, tears filling her eyes as they made her way down her cheeks. She hated everything he was. Hated everything he had done. Hated everything that she knew he would do, and hated that her rational brain was already trying to discern ways that she could make this indiscretion better. She hated the way he made her feel... hated that the weight of his gaze made her instantly feel the need to compromise and surrender... and survive.

The writhing of her body was an utterly violent affair, uncontrolled, and unmitigated by any kind of thought other than the ones driven by hopelessness.

There was a part of her that registered that his clawed fingers were digging into flesh in order to pin her down. Another part of her registered the way his body seemed to carelessly smother her own. Yet none of it stopped her from thrashing. And bucking. And doing everything within her power to go anywhere that wasn't here.

It wasn't even about winning. She knew that she couldn't. But... she wanted to fight. She wanted to fight, and scream, and let everything out that was corroding her insides like some kind of internal rot. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't. God, she couldn't... she couldn't...

The white walls of an asylum would have been sanctuary now. She craved something sterile, and controlled, and contained... anything other than this sensation of feeling like the seams to her body were splitting and she was pouring out. She felt like entirely too much... which was almost funny considering she knew she was absolutely nothing at all. Her body was on autopilot as the threw everything she had into trying to hit him, her voice like an audiotape that was scratched and skipping as she told him the same thing again and again. She couldn't stop. She couldn't control it. So she kept going, relentless, despite the way it made her own body bleed and break in protest.

She didn't look at him. Didn't feel him. All she felt was the need to expel the energy that had burst from its cage, rearing its head like a feral beast. And for the time that passed, as slow and as fast as it went, it came in tangible spades.

A broken sob came from her lips as exhaustion forced the motions to slow. Her chest rose and fell quickly, blue eyes staring up, past him, towards the spackled ceiling. Her breath was staggered as she struggled to catch it, feeling his weight start to return to her. She started to feel heavy again... restrained. And in that restraint she felt...

...she felt...

Contained.

Like the world was suddenly starting to slow and come into focus again. Like the air was coming back into her lungs. Like he was grounding her. Which made sense... given he didn't allow her to hang onto anything, or anyone, else. Who else was she supposed to hold on to when everyone else was gone?

There was an awareness that his fingers were cold against hers, colder than the ground they were pinned too. She became aware of her legs and her knees were drawn up against the small of his back. She was aware of how close his lips were to the crook of her neck, and how his face was almost nuzzled against her shoulder. Calm. He was too calm.

It was all... wrong. Everything was wrong. What... what was happening?

"Are you done?"

The softly spoken words hung eerily in the air and felt like they were scalding her skin. Unconsciously, she shifted... but she couldn't go far when he was pinned against her body so readily.

Her head fell back against the floor, eyes closing, "I'll never be done... as long as you're here". She would always want to be. She would always wish, pray, hope for it to end... but it wouldn't. Not for as long as they occupied the same house. The same nightmare.

Daemon listened to the soft thumping of that very human heart... the same one that had been thundering moments ago, beating in tune to the residual resistance that clung to those wet eyelashes. It belonged to him. He controlled it, made it stutter, stop, and race. Under his hand, it was caged... unattainable to anyone who dared to want it. Her brother. That boy. No. This pretty little broken heart, with all its cracks and shattered bits, belonged to him. Only him.

"Please, Daemon..."

He hummed against her throat when she spoke his name.

"Please..."

Her body was lax beneath his. Not willfully so but because it was physically exhausted from the gauntlet it was constantly having to run. That amount of resistance, the sudden peak, was followed by a debilitating crash that had thoroughly sapped the strength right out from under her. She was so tired. So incredibly tired. The feel of him above her, weighing her down to this spot, was almost comforting... because she didn't know where she would be if someone wasn't there to keep her from floating away into the abyss.

It was like he knew it too because when he lifted himself from her, shifting his weight, he still kept his fingers firmly laced with hers. And then his hands were under her, lifting her, admonishing her without a word to settle the little weight she had against him. She gave no resistance other than the tension that she held as she was brought into him on a different level than before. And then moved, quietly, onto the bed, amongst sheets that were strewn about in the chaos they had created in their violent encounter.

His hands laid on either side of her head, blond strands twisting around them, and his knees stayed beside each bruised hip. "You wouldn't leave them behind, Angel. Don't pretend that you would." All the marks he had left across her body, all the memories that she had allowed him to place there, a deliberate trade, spoke to exactly that... as did the shiver that cradled her body as he spoke the words.

Blue eyes looked at him, then, and his did not shy away from the rare initiation on her end. They were soft, glassy, and young... looking to him as if she both expected and feared more. It was almost an invitation, he very well could have taken it as one... but she was so tired, pushed to the very edge of exhaustion. Any more might take the light from her eyes completely... and he couldn't have that. He wouldn't.

No matter how much she begged. No matter how much she pleaded. No matter how broken those baby blues got. And no matter how pretty those bruised lips looked as they wrapped around the word 'please.'