Fated (Bloodhound x Eve (OC))

Collection

"Those are bold words, little one. Let us see what you have left to say when I am finished with you."

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Eve swept up a tiny pile of dust and a few stray feathers into her dustpan and dumped the dirt into the garbage can in the kitchen. This had become her weekly chore, and by now she had a system, a path she traveled to maximize efficiency before moving on to her next task. She passed by Bloodhound in the kitchen, who was filling a bucket with water to mop the tile. It always brought a smile to her face to see them like this, their gentle domestic tendencies such a stark contrast to their persona in the Games - though, she thought, remembering the events of their last match - she enjoyed that side of them too. Her hand reached up and skimmed over the braids that kept their hair away from their face and she tiptoed up to kiss their chin. She loved when their hair was loose and wild, but this was a nice view too, the strong lines of their jaw and cheekbone easily visible. They patted her bottom affectionately as she walked away.

When she made her way to the bedroom, she glanced at the closet, realizing she hadn't swept in there before. The only time she could recall actually going in there was the night Bloodhound had made her get a belt the first time they had punished her. Eve swallowed hard as she remembered.

She'd never had a reason to go in there again. All her clothes were folded in the dresser by the bed and anything of hers that needed to be hung was at her house. This felt sneaky for some reason, like a secret mission. They always left this door closed. She peeked over her shoulder at Bloodhound and saw they were still mopping, so she had at least a few minutes. The closet door was unlocked, so she pushed it open and walked in.

She moved in slowly with her broom, each step deliberate as if the room was booby-trapped. The scent of cedar and clean laundry permeated the small space. The clothes were well-organized - multiple sets of battle gear hung neatly against one wall, jeans all next to each other, flannel shirts arranged by color. Eve rubbed the soft, well-worn material between her fingers absentmindedly. A backup mask and respirator were set on the wall, the tubing circled and hung next to it. Thinking of the closet at her house, she pulled a face. Bloodhound would surely disapprove of the haphazard piles of clothes shoved in the back and she was glad they hadn't seen it. She bent down to pull out a few dust bunnies from the corner, and her eyes were drawn to the wooden armoire at the end.

Eve was silent, listening for Bloodhound. For some reason, what she was doing seemed forbidden, like she shouldn't be looking in here, but her curiosity got the best of her. They'd never told her she couldn't explore any areas of the house, but snooping here still felt off-limits. Naughty, even. She laid the broom against the wall and reached for the little black handles, opening the doors carefully while leaning away. It was silly, she knew, but she half-expected something to jump out at her.

Her stomach dropped like a weight when she saw the contents of the inner closet. She recognized the black cuffs they had used on her a few times, but the other things she hadn't seen before. Her eyes darted to several rolls of rope on a shelf within, various colors and textures and thicknesses. Two wooden paddles hung on the back - one that was smooth and solid, the handle wrapped in black leather, and another that was thinner with holes throughout. She pulled one off its hook - it was heavier than she had expected. Both of these had a tiny clover burned into the end of the handle. She ran her finger over the little mark, smiling at their shared symbol of trust before she placed it back. The clunking noise it made against the cabinet wall was embarrassingly loud. Hopefully, Bloodhound hadn't heard.

On the back of the door, a few more items were suspended from pegs. She reached out to touch a black leather handle with a cluster of tiny braids spreading out from the base. How badly would this one hurt? She shuddered at the thought - but she still wanted to find out. Wooden and metal bars were lined up next to each other at the bottom of the cabinet. A few of the thinner rods had a grip on one end and she experimentally rolled one back and forth. Eve picked it up and slapped it against her bare thigh to test it. She winced at the impact, seeing that even this small movement had left a red line in her flesh. This would definitely sting more in Bloodhound's expert hand. She hastily set it back down, wondering what kind of misbehavior would earn her a strike from that.