C H A P T E R 13
C H A P T E R 13
FORCED PROXIMITY
Puppet
Play – ‘Sweat – RY X’
T he air is still, my body so tiny that it cannot keep up with the chill consuming the room. I feel like I'm sleeping outside right now, fighting my body trying to seize up, laying underneath a duvet no thicker than a fluffy blanket. Crisp steam evaporates from my mouth as I exhale into the cool atmosphere, twitching to the rapidly decreasing temperatures. I haven't a clue what the date is but I know we are somewhere into the middle of November and I hate this time of year. I hate the cold, and it doesn't help that I'm skin and bone with barely any layers in a house with no heating, a house that's falling apart and probably missing a few windows.
I don't even hear her approach, too concentrated on the ringing in my ears as I tremble to stay warm.
“You're shaking like a dog.” I jolt in response, not expecting her to jump scare me as she states the obvious from behind me, wiping away the remnants of present tears as I sniffle quietly.
“I'm fine.” My eyes roll to the back of my head, frustrated that I can't seem to have a moment of peace without her hovering. It's midnight or something stupid, what is she even doing up?
“It's only gonna get colder.” She can't see my face right now but my brow lines scrunch into my forehead as I cuddle my shackle. It's not exactly the comfiest thing to sleep with.
“How about you just worry about yourself and I will worry about myself.” I narrow my eyes, following the woodwork of the wall in front of me. Why can't she just leave me alone?
“I am. And you're in MY bed.” She emphasises ‘ my’ like I decided to put myself here and sleep in HER bed which only winds me up further.
“You put me here.” I turn sharply to face her, codling the duvet in the cold clasp of my dry fingers to find her rubbing her temples, annoyance plastered all over her slender face.
“You need warmth before you freeze to death.” Again. Stating the obvious. Don’t worry, I will just get up and grab myself some more blankets. Oh wait.
“Then give me another blanket.” I spit, spiteful with frustration still quivering like an idiot.
“That won't do anything. I have no heating. You need body heat.” My eyes shuffle around the room before realisation kicks in. Is she saying we need to sleep together? In the same bed?
“Absolutely not. I don't think so, I’d rather sleep with the dog.” My protest is pointless as she rolls her dead eyes at me. Somehow, I don't think she is going to take no for an answer.
“You don't exactly have a choice. This is my bedroom and the sofa isn't quite cutting it tonight. Sorry. Your Highness .” If I had it my way, I wouldn’t even be here right now and she could have had the entire bed to herself. Why is she moaning like she isn't the one keeping me here?
“I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than sleep in the same bed as you.” It's not happening. Sharing a bed is intimate. What does she think this is, a date?
“That would make my life easier. Means you wouldn't be able to run.” The corner of her mouth upturns at the vulgar remark, as if she is trying to be funny and it’s getting old.“I can quite happily just take the duvet into the living room with me. It's up to you Puppet .” Her voice is no longer dull, but sarcastic, trying to make light of the situation, finding much amusement in my detest.
“I will freeze to death.” She's not funny. None of this is funny.
“That's what you want isn't it?” She questions my wants, edging the temptation of death as she stalks towards the bed slowly, dragging her feet beneath her, eyes on me as she lowers her upper body to grab the opening of the duvet.
“Don't!” ~Tug~ “Even think about it!” I leap from the bed, my shackles dragging along with me until the chain pulls tight, keeping me stationary against the edge of the bed and her smile is nothing short of sinister. As both her hands meet the mattress watching my distress, I tug on my restraints knowing full well that my pleas are nothing against her actions if she really wanted to hurt me. “I'm serious!” All I can do is threaten empty words and hold onto the gentle instincts I know she keeps buried somewhere inside her.
“Or what… hmm?” She knows I can't do anything but I think she gets a rise out of watching me try. The sick bitch enjoys pain so inflicting it would be pointless. That wound in her hand is visible evidence of that, she’s still not wrapped it and the remaining damage is nothing short of gruesome.
“I will make sure you don't sleep a wince.” I bite. My feet are burning against the floor, hosting an entity inside of me at how cold the air is hugging my body but I refuse to let her win. This is not happening. I will keep her awake until sunrise if I have to.
“I don't sleep anyway.” I would say I am surprised by her insomnia but I'm not. Sleep is for the weak. I sleep to escape but she seems to thrive in her sickness, she likes being this way. Or maybe murdering people likes to tap at her nightmares, I wouldn’t sleep either if I took someone else's life. Restless nights equal guilty conscience and she is riddled with it which is a good sign, it means she isn’t a complete sociopath.
“Then why do you want to get into bed?” I question her as if this bed is mine.
“Because believe it or not, my bed holds more warmth than my uncomfortable ass sofa I seem to have accommodated, and it's particularly cold out tonight.” She slips underneath the duvet wearing her smugness with pride, barely just about fitting into it with the length of her.
“Get out!” I want to burst, gripping at the duvet, tugging towards me before she retaliates, pulling the other side, throwing me over the side of the mattress with sheer strength until I'm inches from her face, the paint choking my nose.
“What are you so afraid of? You think I'm going to hurt you?” There is a knot tightening between my words, torn between my imagination and the reality of the situation. I want to cling to the fact that I'm a victim and I am a victim. But the truth is, her actions have not met her words.
“Do you blame me?” I know she’s not actually hurt me yet. Really hurt me . When there are many times that she could have. But I've learned my lesson. I don’t trust her further than I could throw her. Which isn't very far . I can barely see her silhouette against the sliver of moonlight between the cracks but her eyes burrow inside the night like the moon, cutting through the darkness, searching for earth in mine.
“ I won't touch you. ” There is sincerity in her voice for once. And I so desperately want to believe that but for now I will keep my distance.
“Get back into bed. Before you catch hypothermia.” Her voice is demanding yet bored as tension lays thick like dust on the furniture. I’m so captivated by her gaze that she rips the duvet from my distracted grip leaving my hand bare.
“And who's fault would that be?” We sound like an old married couple and the only thing keeping my heart beating and my blood pumping right now is the discombobulated rage inside of me. She pulls the duvet back enticing me to slide in, letting the encapsulated heat escape. “You're letting all the heat out!” Irritation rolls through my fingertips, as I rub my upper arms with my icy hands creating friction against my skin.
“Then hurry the fuck up.” She bites hard and I hesitate, anticipating the rights and wrongs, but she's right. I don’t have a place to argue this, and my clothes are barely enough to keep me covered.
“If you lay a hand on me, I will rip your skin off.” I snarl, clutching at my body like a fragile ornament. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone. Not even friends, and I can't exactly say I thought my first bed share would be with a literal murdering psychopath. I shudder at the thought, internally raging at my inner turmoil, at the fact I am even considering this.
“I don't doubt that, Princess .” These nicknames are really starting to rub me the wrong way and not because I don't like them… Because I do. It shows me there is something there besides evil. It tampers with the relentless mental strength I need to entirely hate her and I don't know why this is proving to be so difficult when I do hate her.
“I'm serious.” I reach my hands out to grab the sheets, shuddering at the breeze infiltrating the warmth I've settled beneath the palms of my hands.
“I'm quaking in my boots.” Her mockery is resenting. It eats away at the wall I’ve built when all I want to do right now is grin at her smart fucking mouth.
“Are you just going to lie there and watch me like a creep?” On second thought. Being watched whilst unconscious is one thing, but now I'm back to the land of the living, the thought of that makes my skin itch.
“Depends. You're not exactly the most pleasing thing to look at. You dribble in your sleep.” I gape my mouth open, trying to find the words but warmth heats my cheeks as I shy in utter embarrassment.
“I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that…” My gaze diverts to the sheets below me, about to plant my ass down with my back facing her, contemplating what the hell in life I did to deserve sharing a bed with the Devil.
“Take off your top.” My heart tightens in my chest followed by a sharp pain shooting up the pockets of my spine.
“Excuse me?” She must be joking?
“You heard.” Yeah, I heard her alright, and she is nuts. It’s freezing! And my dignity is already stripped from me when she watches me shower in her clothes.
“I am not taking off my top!?” What could she possibly want me to take it off for!
“Do you want to stay warm? You have a bra on. Take it off.” She's so assertive that my goody two shoes find it hard to fight against her orders, sinking into the bed as I finish sitting, feeling her eyes burning a hole into my back.
“Turn around then…” I can't see her but I can feel her shuffle, tugging the duvet along with her as she follows my order with no hesitation as always which only winds me up more.
I unbutton my upper half, letting it glide against the goosebumps painting my skin as it falls to the mattress and I feel disgusting in my own body, diving under the covers to cover up my humiliation but the chill is biting at my breasts, hardening against the sheets.
Uneasiness plagues the room as I hug my side of the bed trying desperately to create a ravine between us, the sheets brushing like feather weight against my bare body and I am indecisive as to whether I enjoy the feeling. She shuffles some more, subtle tugs pull against the sheets before fabric cushions the floor on her side of the bed. Did she just take her clothes off? The space between us immediately radiates with heat and I concentrate solely on the warmth consuming me, closing my eyes to finally chase my escape.
“Closer.” Is sharing a bed not enough for her ? We are already close enough. I don’t move but it makes no odds as she plays tug of war with the sheet I'm wrapped in, forcing our proximity until our backs are touching. A silent hitch escapes my mouth as her skin sears mine, burning red hot against me immediately slowing my heart rate. Comfort is the only word to explain it and that thought alone makes me grind my teeth with internal annoyance. Nothing about her is comforting. She’s like a splinter piercing her way through my decaying heart. Slowly inching her pain inside of me and nothing about that is pleasant. She’s already made her grave where whatever this is, is concerned. This is merely a usage of one another to benefit our needs, but I can feel myself yearning for more, crawling inch by inch until our backs are firmly flush against one another, chasing that warmth my glacial landscape so desperately craves right now.
“How are those feet holding up.” Her words ooze out as she refers to earliers comment and my tongue runs my teeth as I kiss them, feeling her canine curl up on top of them like a heated blanket.
I would rather shoot myself in the foot than sleep with you.
I hug her back with mine and tell myself I hate it, but she's warm, and my body instantly feels a whole lot better for it. Skin on skin isn't at all what I expected, it's sticky, unsanitary, it’s so foreign to me, so not in my jurisdiction and I feel like I'm committing my own felony.
I don't know if this is a one off, or she plans to do this until the temperature picks up again but I'm just going to keep my eyes closed and pretend she's not there. She's merely acting as a hot water bottle. This was her idea not mine. I'm just using the facilities she's willingly supplying.