Noah and Richelle: love prevails

Sadistic Love

"You've hurt me," Richelle says simply, "I've got many marks to prove it." With that, she rolls up her sleeves and shows him the large bruises and marks he had given her, much to Noah's sick satisfaction and content. But that's not all. He knows there's more. And he yearns to see all of them.

"That isn't all of them, sweetheart," he says maybe a tad mockingly, and without warning, forcefully takes the flannel off of her leaving her in nothing but her sports bra and shorts. Richelle stumbles back a bit from the sudden contact but still glares at Noah as he relishes in the sight of her many bruises and gashes and cuts.

"You've given me many scars," she shakily continues. Noah rolls his eyes slightly. "I know that, Princess," he says sarcastically. Richelle bites back a sarcastic and snappy reply. "But......" she continues and starts to inch towards him, "you have failed to mention or even acknowledge the fact that I am the only one-" she then lunges at him, practically ripping off his white undershirt, revealing his bare, toned torso, "-that I am the only one who has ever been able to hurt you back!" She points at all the slash marks and bruises and cuts on his body as well.

Richelle suddenly feels herself being forcefully pinned against a wall. She sees Noah glowering at her. "Stop talking," he snarls threateningly. Richelle however, one smiles. She knows better than to be afraid anymore. "Admit it; you scar just as easily as I do," she tells him and then suddenly is thrown onto his bed, with Noah crawling towards her evilly yet seductively. "Careful, cupcake," he whispers in her ear, now pinning her down. Richelle lets out an anger filled shriekish cry and tries to writhes around in his grip but no avail. He has her wrists in a tight grip. "Bad things happen to people when they speak to me like that."

Richelle scoffs at this threat. "Please, you've already hurt me in more ways than countable. What else could you really do?" She asks him. Noah ponders this for a moment before smiling a sickly sweet smile. "You're right," he says in a hushed tone, "let's make some more." Richelle knows what he means by more and knows better than to scream and thrash around this time. But that doesn't means she won't put up a fight. She's stronger now. And smarter. And she won't be the one being abused this time.

Noah smiles and goes to reach over for his weapon: the switchblade. His most prized possession, his best toy, well, other than Richelle. But he suddenly pauses and a blank look runs across his features. He darts his head towards his dresser and realizes that there's no blade to grab or to be reached. He's weaponless. Oh well, he can still hurt her anyways.

This revelation only distracts him for about two seconds but that's the perfect amount of time for Richelle to retaliate. With a desperate yet determined grunt, she manages to slip her wrist out of his hold and land a hard punch to his stomach. Noah groans in slight pain, but doesn't double over. However, Richelle doesn't need him too because she's already pushing him off of her, flipping the their positions so that she's on top of him, straddling his stomach, and he's the one being pinned to the bed.

They're both breathing a bit heavily now, Richelle out of satisfaction and smugness and Noah out of- well, struggle. He looks at her with a level of smugness as well. "You know this won't last long, right?" He asks her, although he can't help but be slightly impressed. She's not always able to successfully fight him back. Richelle only smirks. "You would like to think that, wouldn't you?" She asks him, tightening her grip on his wrists, "but you don't really get it- I can be strong too. And just as crazy as you can be." Noah closes his eyes and let's out a dark yet low chuckle. "Ah, so it seems we are not so different after all," he proclaims.

Richelle narrows her eyes and her grip on his wrists become so tight that her knuckles become sheer white. "I am NOT a sadist like you. I am nothing like you," she growls at him.