Diabolik Dominatrix

№➇.➄

Enjoy!

№➇.➄|❝What Killed the Cat❞

#6 - NUMBER SIX
"To Be Loved"

Shortly after #5 "Attention"...

.

.

.

When he had left his sister alone in the gardens, an impatient frustration hastened his steps. He had felt determined and resolute in getting answers. But as he stood outside of his mother's room, feet pausing and making him hover in the threshold of the door, there was only hesitance. The soft strum of his heart in his chest, each sickening pulse sending a dosage of apprehension into his bloodstream. The nerves in his feet tingled, something equally gross and frustrating clogging his throat and almost making him choke on his words:

"Mom," he almost stuttered. He was glad that he didn't. Mother would hate that. She would see it as weak, pathetic; two things that make a person invisible. And truly, never in his life until this very moment watching his mother continue to stare at her own reflection in the vanity and comb her hair, never did he feel invisible like this. She didn't turn her back to face him, didn't look up to catch his eyes in the mirror, pause her actions, or at least give one sign that she acknowledged him. She just continued to rake her long, elegant purple hair as if he wasn't there at all.

"Mommy's busy," she said, face so perfectly straight that he almost didn't recognize the words as her own. She didn't even blink. With her back to him and all that hair cascading down she was beautiful and cold, just another uncommonly gorgeous woman. Not a mother. Specifically, not his mother.

And she was busy again.
"You said that before," he remembered, because she was always busy. It was different now, though, because he had never needed her help before.

"And Mommy's still busy now," she said carelessly. She stopped for a second and he thought that she just might turn around and give him her attention, but instead she just stroked her marble face and decided to apply a deep rouge lipstick. Pursing her lips satisfactorily after it was done, she took up her comb again and resumed its work.

What was this feeling? Normally he didn't care much who she gave her attention to; he enjoyed the carefree spirit that his brothers could never know. Ayato was restricted by his laborious studies, Kanato burdened by his obsession with pleasing her, whereas Laito was completely at ease, free to spend his time how he wanted. As long as he didn't get in her way, that is. That's what it meant to be the youngest child, the youngest boy, his mind corrected. But until now, standing in the doorway like a trespasser, he never noticed how very little his mother seemed to care about the triplets. Disdainful and dismissive...what was it about them that was so disappointing to her? So...unremarkable. And how had they never noticed before, his brothers especially.

They spend too much time with her...his thoughts whispered.

If I were to be noticed by her, make myself too noticeable enough to grab her attention I would be just another inconsequential little boy in her way, plagued with hopes of pleasing her. If I stay around her too long, won't I be caught up in her path as well? Many thoughts along these lines ran through his mind, the chief among them being that the more time he spent around her the less free he would be.

He paused, his heels nearly on a pivot with the thought of leaving this discussion and her where they were, where they couldn't disrupt his life. One foot in the door and one out, it was as if no matter where he stepped his life would become different in the outcome.