Forbidden

Chapter thirteen

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I'm already crying, sobbing quietly trying to comprehend what is going on.

The place where his palm collided with my cheek was burning in heat. I am quickly touching my stinging cheek, feeling the warm skin hissing on the process. Blood is dripping from the side of my bottom lip and I feel so feeble.

No one has ever slapped me. No one, not even my parents. And it was a slap that could pass as a punch by the way he had put force in it.

It's so very infuriating that I don't find the strength to slap him back or just lunge at him like a wild animal. Instead I'm pathetically trying to calm myself down though I feel like falling to a puddle by the mess of emotional pain.

He doesn't let me recover like the mad man he is and pulls me to him, I subtly distinguish how his pupils are dilated so much that I can safely say I've never been this scared.

Then I have a thought... maybe he took something because at the moment it seems that he would kill me and wouldn't care.

He grabs my chin, eyes hard, face in a deep scowl, breathing down my face. It's funny how earlier this embrace was somehow blissful, it has been a spark of temporary insanity when I thought that he can be soft..

Even if I'm scared I do hold this eye-contact and he hates it because he pushes me to the wall, our bodies practically molded.

Tears are running down my warm cheeks but he doesn't mind nor takes notice.

"If I want to... If I really want to, I could have my way with you, do unspeakable things to you and you would become so submissive that you would never dare try to do anything or even speak." he spat.

The way he talks is as if he was mad at me and it's taking everything in him not to do what he just said. Sniffling and closing my eyes tightly, my head angles away from him as I couldn't stand him this near.

"But what did I do?" I whisper feebly, he grips my chin more forcefully that I yelp in pain, my vision blurred in tears.

"I know what you did out there." he whispers, in an instant his gaze fell on my lips then he scowls, he found out then, "But if I would want to kill him I would have done it earlier. Maybe I should do it now since that's what your already assuming I will do." his words warping and squeezing on my soul.

"No, please don't." I plead when I know what he's talking about,  throwing the hatred I feel for him right now and my pride away through the window.

He scoffs, pushing me back to the sink, "Clean your face. We'll leave." he demands waiting for me. Shaking and hiccuping I try to stride to the sink, "Hurry up." he seethes when I'm not quick enough for him.

With trembling hands and wobbly legs I turn the faucet on to clean my face quickly, the cold water is cooling my red face having me sigh out contently at the feel.

When I look at the mirror I note the fingerprints on my cheek and my busted lip. With a deep exhale that does little to compose my distorted state, I take a toilet paper and wipe the blood away with a grimace on my face because it stings badly.

Absently side eyeing him, being cautious since I don't want to get surprised again by him but he isn't watching me anymore... A sorrow expression is now on his face. I want to scoff at him, he really isn't trying to feel sorry right? Because I don't buy his fake pity.

Returning to the task of getting myself decent, I gently stroke on my lips.

Tossing the toilet paper away once I'm done trying to clean myself, which failed because I still looked weak and miserable, I turn around.