Status: a c t i v e
My Sadist King
Guilt
I looked down at the scattered photos of expired happiness and letters of old, bittersweet love around my naked body. “Kieran, I…” My voice hid away along with my frightened, trembling soul. When I met his eyes again, he was even more furious.
“What the fuck did you just call me?” He stomped over to me and snagged me off the floor by my hair, throwing me onto the bed. The pictures and letters fell to the floor like ragged feathers. I cried out and clutched onto the tender part of my scalp that had been ripped of its hair.
Above me, he was on his hands and knees, pointing a finger in my face. “You do not use that name with me!” he shouted. “Do you understand that?”
The usual fear I felt underneath his hulking, demanding figure insinuated through my shaking bones, but he saw something different in my eyes that time. “You can’t just…” He forced himself to stop speaking and lowered himself into a seat at the edge of the bed. “Damn it,” he hissed.
I sat up, feeling perspiration dripping down my chest, and reached a hand towards him. “My king,” I whispered, my fingertips barely grazing the shoulder of his leather jacket.
“You going to tell me you’re sorry again?” he asked. “For the millionth fucking time?”
“No,” I said, placing my entire hand upon his shoulder. “I’m telling you that I never would have known.”
“Known what?”
“That you have a daughter… a wife.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you’re wondering how a sick fuck like myself would have been a family man before.”
“... Before?”
A sigh huffed out of his lips as he turned his head towards me, keeping his eyes low. I thought I had seen all the sadness he could ever feel, but I had been completely wrong. It was that moment when I saw it as we sat in his clammy room on top of cotton sheets.
It was when he whispered, “They’re dead… They’re dead and it’s all my fault.”
“What the fuck did you just call me?” He stomped over to me and snagged me off the floor by my hair, throwing me onto the bed. The pictures and letters fell to the floor like ragged feathers. I cried out and clutched onto the tender part of my scalp that had been ripped of its hair.
Above me, he was on his hands and knees, pointing a finger in my face. “You do not use that name with me!” he shouted. “Do you understand that?”
The usual fear I felt underneath his hulking, demanding figure insinuated through my shaking bones, but he saw something different in my eyes that time. “You can’t just…” He forced himself to stop speaking and lowered himself into a seat at the edge of the bed. “Damn it,” he hissed.
I sat up, feeling perspiration dripping down my chest, and reached a hand towards him. “My king,” I whispered, my fingertips barely grazing the shoulder of his leather jacket.
“You going to tell me you’re sorry again?” he asked. “For the millionth fucking time?”
“No,” I said, placing my entire hand upon his shoulder. “I’m telling you that I never would have known.”
“Known what?”
“That you have a daughter… a wife.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you’re wondering how a sick fuck like myself would have been a family man before.”
“... Before?”
A sigh huffed out of his lips as he turned his head towards me, keeping his eyes low. I thought I had seen all the sadness he could ever feel, but I had been completely wrong. It was that moment when I saw it as we sat in his clammy room on top of cotton sheets.
It was when he whispered, “They’re dead… They’re dead and it’s all my fault.”
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm FINALLY able to sit down and write without any damned disturbances. The past two weeks have been too busy. I can't stand it.I know this is a really short chapter, but I have the pieces planned out. So hang tight, you guys. I won't take another two weeks to update, now that I have some down time. xD