Otherworld

Hide and Seek [TheoXSept]

Hide and Seek

[SeptXTheo]

Blood was the most beautiful color in the world.

A deep rich shade of crimson, thick and warm, a sharp contrast to my ivory skin. I dragged a long finger through it, smearing it against my skin, watching it dye my fingernail and the pad of my finger. I drew it to my lips, then sucked it into my mouth and licked the iron tasting red until my finger was clean.

I tilted my head back against the edge of the tub, licking my lips as I felt the sharp cut in my arm stitch itself back together. I released a long, bored sigh as I stared up at the gold crown moulding on the brown ceiling of my bathroom, lifting my legs in the warm water of the tub as it rippled quietly.

It would be an understatement to say I was friggin' bored. The biggest understatement of the year.

What with the Titans now safely locked in their bird cage while Zelios poked them with sticks until they shit themselves and went insane, and the Khalian now on their own and safe, and Adrian living happily ever after with that idiot brother of mine, Malachi, things were abnormally calm and lazy. I found myself in this same position, day after day after day, nothing to do. Worst of all, Hades wasn't around to keep me entertained, so running over to his place to terrorize him and ruin his day was out of the question. He was off at a family gathering on Olympus, and I knew for a fact he'd come back in a foul mood and even I wasn't dumb enough to go near him after one of those things.

Even Sept was out. He was running errands that I should probably be doing, but I was just too lazy to do them. That and I didn't care if it got done or not. Sept just did it while I was sleeping and when I woke up, he was still gone, so I took my chance to get in the tub with a razor I'd found in the garbage.

After cleaning it off with alcohol and magic, I'd cut four nice slices on each arm. Now, all eight had healed up and only left very faint scars that would completely vanish in an hour, hopefully before Sept showed up.

He always threw a fit when I cut myself. And by throw a fit, I mean he didn't let me out of his sight for almost a week and even followed me into the bathroom to make sure I didn't get a hold of any razors. I didn't usually try to hide it. Why bother? Sept knew about my masochism.

For centuries, I forced him to violently screw me and cut my back and rip my throat open. Even now, I ached to have it back. I wanted to feel him rip into me again. I wanted to see blood dribbling across my skin and pouring out onto the sheets. I hungered for it so badly that sometimes, I wanted to just throw Sept on the bed and force him to ruin me again, but even if I tried, he wouldn't.

He was such a romantic. Hurting me was out of the question. Whenever we had sex, he was incredibly gentle. And sometimes it was pretty great. He'd be so slow about it and if I tried to make him go faster, he'd tie my wrists to the headboard with scarves. But that was as far as he would go bondage-wise.

I needed pain.

It was always a constant and I wasn't fond of change, particularly one that made me feel this good. I knew it bothered Sept, and it bothered a lot of people. It even bothered Hades, oddly enough, but it was none of their business. I was immortal. I couldn't die. But sometimes I needed to remind myself that I was alive, and maybe slitting my skin open was the way to do that.

I was getting bored again. I ran my fingers along the edge of the tub until I found the razor and slumped back against the tub again as I drew the razor down and let it bite into the soft skin of my arm, this time making a vertical cut in the middle of my arm. I tilted my head, savoring the burning sting of it, watching that beautiful red blossom before oozing down the sides of my arm and dripping into the tub where the water had already turned pink because of the amount of blood I'd spilled into it.