“There is fuck all you can do,” she hisses. “Literally nothing.”
I glare because its all I’ve got left. She’s bound my wrists and my ankles. She’s tethered my neck and gagged my mouth. I shake my head by millimetres, just enough so the cord doesn’t cut and the wounds can’t reopen.
“The choice was never supposed to be yours, never!” She’s pacing the room now. Small knife like a sword in her right hand, her left hand swinging as if to orchestrate music from afar. Oh how I know those hands too well. “You!” She turns on me. Like lava lamps those eyes, never the same pattern twice. Mixes of blue and green swim in murky lakes of brown. “You never once asked what I wanted did you?”
I don’t move, but I’m not supposed to.
“Did I ever say you could?” She’s smiling now, with darkness and blood to the toothy grin. “No, no, no. I didn’t, I never did. And now see where its got you.” Its a sick smile, but I like it because I can see her back teeth. They are perfect, discoloured little pearls. I’d tell her this if my mouth wasn’t stuffed.
She’s right up close to my face now, the little knife in her hand is grazing my chin. If I breathe its going to cut my skin.
“Here you are.” Her voice is sweet, poisonous honey, tempting me with its lacquered words, dripping with venom. “Doing it anyway.” The little knife is pointed to my lips. My breath quickens because she’s got every inch of power, the way it should be.
“Do you still?” She asks, this time she wants a reaction. I look at her and know she reads my mind, she can her me say yes. She knows that if I move the knife will slice my lips. “Do you?” She asks again. I implore her to read my mind, surely she sees it in my eyes. “Do you?” This time its far more stern and I realise what she wants.
I nod, the cold metal digs into my top lip. A warm, fat dollop of blood falls down the corner of my mouth. I must be cold to feel it. I don’t know how deep its cut. She grins again. “Sweet boy. I told you not to love me, yet here we are.” Pulling back her wild eyes dart to my hands and feet. The little knife is right on my neck now, just next to my artery, the pulsing life blood running hot, right where the wounds cut deep from the thin rope, prickling and twisting with each of my breaths.
I wait and watch for any sign. She was never one to know what she would do next, how could I? She looks inside my soul, right deep down underneath the hazy insides and the crusty outsides. She sifts around down there to find the soft, bulbous creature she’s seen too many times. I try to tell her everything with my eyes. How I trust her and I love her and that she has saved me and we are meant to be together always. How she makes me think and do things no one ever has before. I feel as if I am the first and last person to love in the history of the world, as long as she is by my side.
The cold knife flicks, as if it is thinking, but she does not. Its blunt side rubs against my soft flesh and in my head I tell her take me now if she will not have me forever. I close my eyes, because its her choice, always.
She is sawing at something, I am jerking back and forth. I wonder if my neck if too harsh, if my skin is too deep, if the wounds have created blisters that are fighting back. I wish for death because if she is sawing it means she cannot love me.
But then my eyes open, my neck is being cradled and kissed. I am no longer bound, the gag is removed.
She is brushing away the sores and purring the word ‘forever’ in my ear, over and over again.