Chapter 4: Salvation

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The one thing she can't bear is to be with him. Yet, she feels as if he's now officially a part of her despite being broken and crumbling into an infinite amount of pieces. Her eyes are destitute and her body is defenseless. The only memories that play in her mind are the ones that changed her the most. Repeating in her mind like a broken cassette that never unravels. The last sparks of hope in her mind slowly starting to disappear.

One body on top of another. One ravished by the amusement the other one brings to the table.

His precious little doll. The one toy he's never been able to capture is now wrapped around his slender finger. He doesn't care if she's broken. This is the only way he'll be able to protect her and get her to love him all at the same time.

His distorted protection...

Bringing his palm to caress her face, his unusually warm hand coming into contact with the diamond-like substance that rolls down her cheek.

How unusual, she hasn't been doing this for the past couple of weeks.

His bangs brush against her own, as he brings his lips to lay a soft kiss on her forehead. His lips are chapped, his hair disheveled. His perfect persona no longer being able to keep up with the overwhelming desire that runs through his body.

"Hey... Are you not into it today?"

No answer.

He shrugs it off instead of bubbling in anger. This is the most well behaved she's ever been. Why would he get mad at her?

He continues. Yet the creaking of the bed the only thing he's able to concentrate on. His breath tickles the nape of her neck. Yet he is unable to get a response out of her. He licks her neck: No response. He bites her collarbone. Yet, not even a breath escapes her mouth.

He doesn't enjoy her inactions and decides to quit for today.

He inches to unlock the handcuffs carefully while remembering the physical pain she brought him repeatedly just because of this moment. As he subconsciously brings his hand to his uncovered chest to stroke the healing scratch she had given him that one night.

A knock on the front door interrupts his movements, and he groans in displeasure to answer it. He slips on a shirt and closes the door to his room before answering the persistent knock to the entrance of the house.

"Hello?" Himuro questions as he opens the door; irritation laced into his voice. The voice starts to speak.

"Ah... Hello Himuro-san," He continues in a soft and relaxed voice.

The familiar tone causes the last sliver of hope in (first name)'s mind to ignite. In the isolated room filled with nothing but bad memories, the feeling of hope is portrayed through the tears welling up in her eyes with.

"I heard that you invited Murasakibara to your house. I was looking for him, due to the meeting I had scheduled today. I was wondering if you could call him and remind him of it. For I'm supposed to pick him up..."

Himuro gulps in nervousness. He stutters trying to tell the man that Murasakibara isn't in the vicinity. Yet the individual is so intimidating he fails to get the message across.

Using this chance to escape, (first name) desperately claws for the key with her feet.

The key is just beyond her reach.

She captures it in-between her toes, bringing them to her hands as she attempts to unlock the handcuffs that bond her to the bed frame.

She succeeds, immediately sprinting towards the door on the opposite side of the room on the balls of her feet. She reaches for the doorknob, other hand gripping the edge of the door as soon as it opens the smallest bit. As soon as her eyes meet the light of the afternoon sun, she flinches, trying her best to make out the figure standing on the opposite side of Himuro.

His unmistakable crimson hair flashes in her vision. The last person she'd ever expect to be her savior stands there, eyes widening as soon as they wander to her form.


Akashi Seijuro.


To be continued...



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