Black's spurting from my mouth; the blood quickly cascading down my chin!
My legs collapse; gravel fiercely digging into my face; the splattering liquid pooling heavily beneath my cheek—
What's this feeling? My stomach's boiling—!
What's happening to me—?!
But agony soon shoots and twines around my ankles, wrapping around my arms!
The air, it's thickening—!
My face's sweating—my body's curling—
My tongue's burning! My limbs are paralyzed. My hands are squeezing in pain—!
But a blurry, malformed black soon envelopes me, swallowing me whole…
***
There's a copper taste in my mouth when I awaken. I split my lips to cough it out; my throat swollen and my eyes fuzzy and my limbs numb—
"Thrash around like that and I'll restrain you." A low voice. A soothing voice. A voice devoid of—
Feeling.
I try to move but agony viciously cramps my stomach. "Ah—!"
It hurts. It hurtsss!!!!
Perhaps that's why I feel the coldest of touches and push my cheek farther into that hand.
But those fingers aren't gentle at all as they grip my skin, ripping my mouth open to shove a foul liquid inside.
My throat instinctively swallows; my eyes tearing as the burning liquid moves down my stomach like sand.
I choke and cough; the liquid spilling as the hot burns and melts my skin—
***
Two days of such pain. Two days of not knowing where I am and who's with me. Even if I scream, these fingers dig. Even if my corpse is all that remains, this cold hand will continue shoveling and shoveling—
"Calm yourself. Death will not take you yet."
Liquid trails indelicately from my mouth. I glare at nothing, hardly able to see the stiff, pale hand in front of me. A rustling—
And a stranger's cold fingers move up my chest, changing my shirt anew. I—
Am so ashamed.
A man's dignity shouldn't be so infringed upon—!
My hand jumps from the bed to a strong wrist, pulling and pushing it away—
But, of course, such feebleness could never move an immovable object in the first place.
He snatches my wrists and slams them against the pillowcase, imprisoning me with one hand as a blurry face lurks above me. Only an icy green—
"Dear," Soft lips whisper firmly in my ear. "If you don't stop struggling, I'll kill you myself. Such herbs wasted on you…"
He forces my head up but my eyes begin rolling and my stomach stops roiling and the suspicions quietly slip away—
"…watch him…the poison…" I hear. But my face falls flat upon the pillowcase; a gentle breeze tracing my skin as I tread the lake before me…such gentle waters before me…such a cold, cold breeze…
***
I'm struggling to release my wrists when he finds me; the solid rope tied to the headboard breaking my skin. What kind of person—!
The window's locked and the door latch is on. What kind of place—!
But it looks like any old inn; the bed warmer placed beneath my feet and the bed pan shoved off to the side. There's a quiet shuffling beyond the door. An inaudible murmur from down below—
But I glare into his indifferent green eyes, wishing he was right before me. Maybe then I can—!
I grit my teeth; my dimple drawing his attention. He smirks; the symmetry of his face and the perk of his lips overwhelmingly pretty.
But how dare he mock me—! My nose wrinkles.
"What are you doing?" He gently pats my head. I violently shake him off. He grins. I try to kick.
He deftly swings away. "Come now," he says, waving a hand. "What do you think you can do, lying there so helplessly?" The icy eyes never waver.
I shiver. What's he planning to do with me? "You saved me! Why do you keep me bound?" I wriggle my hand; blood seeping generously from my wrist. "What are you trying to—" My voice cracks and I cough; my throat so horribly swollen.
Of course, it's not my age. It's not!
Sixteen…and my voice is barely changing…
"What am I doing?" He leans over me; his hair like black silk falling. His fingers gently brush back the grease of mine—
And violently yanks my head. "What will I do?"
His eyes are burning and my heart's pounding and my head's throbbing as I'm trying to jerk away—!
But his hands are gripping steel; the only sound between us my panting breaths and weak cries—
My body collapses weakly beneath him.
I watch him warily. This person…
He pats my cheek. "Just lie there quietly. I'll reward you when I'm done."
I sneer but even that hurts; my body drained from days and days of vomiting and shakes and diarrhea—
He fingers the overgrown hair brushing past my boyish face. "We should cut this."
"What is wrong with you?" It feels strange, his touch. Almost familiar…
But I'm sweating as I try to pull my face away.
He doesn't let me, breathing sweet honey across my face. I glare. "You seem quite rebellious. Is this why you were poisoned?"
I flinch.
He grabs my chin and presses my lids closed. "Ah, well, no matter." He says. "I suppose this will be your deathbed, my dear."
Deathbed? My hands shake, gripping the bedsheets tightly. I'll die? He'll let me die?
My ears ring. Why should I die—? My face loses the little color it has. Why is this happening to me?!
Hot tears travel down my cheeks. Why? Why? Why?!
I don't wish to die…
"I—" I gasp, choking. "I—!"
"Yes." He gently scrubs the wet from my eyes. "This is the end."
I grab his hand, my fingers desperately digging into his flesh. "Help me!" I say. "Please…"
What do I have to do? What more should I say? But something's blocking my throat; an anxious squeeze tightening around my stomach—
He presses his lips against the corner of my eye. I hardly flinch; my face already paled from the pain.
Pain? PainPainPain—
Stabbing—thrashing—shredding—
A weight that's piling—
Darkness that's gathering—
But a hot tongue shoves into my mouth; moist lips eating away the pain…the fear…
His kiss, it tastes of blood and bitter tears.