Among the Peonies

Rage

After six hours, four books read, two textbooks checked out, Blade taking two naps, and a delivered chicken noodle soup, I finally gave in to the first yawn.

Blade groaned, "finally! How can you read for so long?! Let's go." He began to sit up, which had me on his lap (by his insistence, of course), but I lightly smacked his arm.

"Excuse you, reading is a better addiction than other alternatives."

I could practically feel him roll his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Whatever. Let's go." He began standing us up again.

"Well what's your hobby then? Hmm?"

"Torturing," I thought I heard him mumble.

"What?!"

His eyes went wide. "Nothing."

I gulped and nervously said, "I'd like to walk on my own, please," as he began carrying me again. He grumbled but put me on my feet. Not without wrapping his arm around my waist as we walked, though.

We arrived at his room, and he pointed the way to the bathroom. I stepped in and closed the door, locking it. All sound of movement in the room stopped.

Suddenly banging and pounding was on the door. I whimpered and gasped, rushing to the other side of the giant bathroom.

"ANNABEL YOU OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW. I WILL KNOCK IT DOWN IF I HAVE TO. ANNABEL?! ANNABEL!" I gathered my courage and quickly walked to the door, unlocked it, and slowly opened it.

There he stood, his eyes promising punishment, and his muscles taut. His lips were pulled into a thin line as he looked down at me. He had to be more than six feet, which made it all that more intimidating at me being more than a foot shorter.

He slammed the door open and I stumbled back. His eyes were furious and I couldn't stop whimpering. Why was I so weak?!

His body was shaking and I related it to his anger. My back reached a wall and I didn't know what to do. My eyes never left his, fear obvious in them. He slammed his hands next to my head and I bit my lip to hold back a cry. He pressed his body flush against mine and whispered, "have you taken a shower yet?"

I sobered up.

What? That's what he's asking me? He knew I hadn't, since I had just closed the door when this all went down, and why does it matter? Is this relevant in some way I'm blind to in my state of fear?

"ANSWER ME!"

I gasped at the sudden volume of his voice. "N-no. I haven't taken a shower yet."

"Well then, in that case..." His voice was unnervingly calm as he allowed a bit of space between us to look down my body. His arm shot out and ripped my shirt off. I gasped and covered myself as best I could. He growled and pinned both arms above my head with one of his hands. The other ripped some sweatpants I had found earlier off. I began crying.

"You are MINE. If you try to hide yourself or take yourself away from me in any way, there will be consequences." I whimpered and nodded feverishly, trying to stop the tears.

He released me and turned, walking to the open shower. It was simply a rectangle filled with different tile than the rest of the bathroom, with a little lip on the edge. Above was a large rectangle with many small holes in it. It was a very large rainfall shower. Wonderful, unless someone else was in the shower to see. Which, unfortunately, was just the case.

He turned the water on and began taking off his black tee-shirt and dark blue, faded jeans. In only his boxers, he turned to me and made a "come-hither" motion with his index finger. I glanced from the gesture to his face. Stone cold.