01-20-2019, 08:45 PM
ryatah
hell is empty and all the devils are here
She has always been incredibly docile. Put into numerous situations that should have made her panic, or lash out, and the closest she has ever come was that day so many years ago when she had let her tongue develop too much of an edge towards him, of everyone to possibly slip out of character towards, but, she has learned from her mistakes.
It has never been like her to be anything but submissive, and it was no wonder that she repeatedly attracts the same types. Drawn to her like a light, and yet she never did anything to try and illuminate their darkness. She liked them the way they were. There was never some romanticized idea of changing anyone, of the beauty taming the beast. She liked the feelings of fear they induced, she liked when they possessed the power to over take her and break her. She is an easy target, in a sense, and yet still there is a craft to it; she doesn’t fall so willingly into everyone’s trap.
Workspace, he says, and that in itself is enough to send a flush of cool anticipation along the length of her spine. She has a small idea of what kind of work he does. He is against her again, but so are the shadows, both heavy and sinister, but when her heartbeat accelerates, it’s not from fear.
When the darkness slowly begins to lift, she releases the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. It is still dim, with no discernible exit or entrance, at least, that she can see. That should have sparked alarms in her head, but it doesn’t, because even in a wide open space, there was never any escaping him if he wasn’t ready to let you go. ”It looks exactly like I would expect your...workspace, to look.” Another flicker of a smile, almost amused by the angle he is playing; as if he’s not going to break her apart. She tilts her head towards him, watching him carefully with sable-eyes as she says in her remarkably soft voice, ”You brought me here for a reason.” It is said as a statement, but the question of it lingers, unspoken — why?
It has never been like her to be anything but submissive, and it was no wonder that she repeatedly attracts the same types. Drawn to her like a light, and yet she never did anything to try and illuminate their darkness. She liked them the way they were. There was never some romanticized idea of changing anyone, of the beauty taming the beast. She liked the feelings of fear they induced, she liked when they possessed the power to over take her and break her. She is an easy target, in a sense, and yet still there is a craft to it; she doesn’t fall so willingly into everyone’s trap.
Workspace, he says, and that in itself is enough to send a flush of cool anticipation along the length of her spine. She has a small idea of what kind of work he does. He is against her again, but so are the shadows, both heavy and sinister, but when her heartbeat accelerates, it’s not from fear.
When the darkness slowly begins to lift, she releases the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. It is still dim, with no discernible exit or entrance, at least, that she can see. That should have sparked alarms in her head, but it doesn’t, because even in a wide open space, there was never any escaping him if he wasn’t ready to let you go. ”It looks exactly like I would expect your...workspace, to look.” Another flicker of a smile, almost amused by the angle he is playing; as if he’s not going to break her apart. She tilts her head towards him, watching him carefully with sable-eyes as she says in her remarkably soft voice, ”You brought me here for a reason.” It is said as a statement, but the question of it lingers, unspoken — why?