ext_119307 ([identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] estdeus_innobis 2011-11-06 06:36 pm (UTC)

His smile.

"You pestered me, actually. When I was in this body, because I was so very pretty. And then I raped you, more or less, here in town. You did not really want to belong to me, but you did. And I wanted you from the first moment I saw you."

There's a comfort in the thought of belonging to him. It's something I should resist, I think, though it's hard to be clear on why. Using this brain can be tiring. "I think I remember seeing you for the first time. Not clearly. But the," I grope for the words, "the feel of it. Like," and I laugh, still breathless, "a shovel to the face." Or his fist.

His hand on my chest makes me jump: my first thought is my heart. "Think harder." I hear the sound I make when he moves inside me and for a moment I can't breathe at all, just hang in his thoughts' grip like a kitten in its mother's mouth.

Oh. Like that. My ribs are easy, bone knitting, swelling going down. My nose - I put a hand up to it. Ow. If I mend the bone, it will stay crooked. "Should I leave it like this?"

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