CHAPTER-17
DISORDERED
Daisy stared at me with narrowed eyes like she knew what I had done with my captor. It was like even she was judging me. Pure shame filled me as I recalled what I had done with Christian.
Sure, the moment I realized that I had again cheated on Liam, I ran from the room and strutted back into my cage.
If he had just force himself upon me, I could put all the blame on him and I wouldn't be feeling...this...this...guilt. But I had asked him for it. And I fucking enjoyed it. I even kissed him back.
Again.
Christ. He had Stockholm Syndromed me. I was having all these weird feelings for a psychopath. A psychopath who had kidnapped me and was not losing a breath to tell me that I belonged to him and he'd never let me go.
I...I...ugh.
The door to my cage opened and then entered my tormentor. He just wouldn't leave me alone, could he?
Christian silently sat on the bed and watched Daisy with a weird expression, like he was trying to figure out why she was wiggling her tail and looking up at him with big eyes. When she went to him and tried to lick his hand, he simply pushed her so she slid back to my side.
"Have you come here to rub it in my face?" I asked.
He looked at me, and blinked twice. "Rub what?"
I scoffed. "Seriously? That's how you're gonna play it now? Act like nothing happened? Don't tell me you haven't come here to goad about how you won and finally made me want something that I didn't even want to want."
He blinked at me like he thought I was stupid. Maybe I was stupid. "Are you talking about the part where I ate your p*ssy?"
I tried not to squirm and get flushed because he just said it out loud. "Yes, that."
His forehead wrinkled. "But you liked it. You even had an orgasm. Two, actually. Then what's the problem?"
Jesus Christ. Why did I even tried to talk with this man?
I clenched my jaw. "Yes, Christian. Thank you for reminding me that you made me come. Twice. I'm just asking you why have you come here now when you've finally got what you wanted?"
He licked his lips, "That wasn't even close to what I want. My c*ck was so hard that it ached when you left me downstairs."
Bad idea, bitch. Why did you even bring this up?
My cheeks heated but I tried my best not to squirm and petted Daisy on the head. She wiggled her tail and licked my hand but she went back to Christian, who politely pushed her back to me.
"My d*ck is still hard. See." He pointed at the obvious bulge in his pants. I could clearly see the outline down his left leg. "But that's not why I've come here. Why did you run?"
I cocked my brow. "Why did I run? I cheated on my fiancé, Christian. I was ashamed of myself."
He clenched his jaw so hard I could clearly see his muscle move. "He's not your fiancé anymore. If you want to call someone your fiancé, it'd be me. And why are you ashamed? Didn't you enjoy it?"
I enjoyed it. That was the whole fucking problem.
"Can you leave me alone?"
He blinked. "No."
I let out a frustrated breath. "Why?"
"Because I have nothing else to do. And I want to spend time with you." He simply said. I shook my head, "But I have things to do."
"Like what?"
"Like...like I have to complete reading my book."
He blinked. Twice. Then. "Okay, then. I'll watch you." He shrugged.
This man...Ughh.
"You—"
"It hurts." He cut me off. I gave him a confused look, "What hurts?"
I swear to God, if he said his boner hurts then...
He rubbed his chest. "Here. It hurts when you say that you want me to leave you alone or you don't want to see me. Why does it hurt, Stella?" He whispered.
Oh, fuck, no, no, no. He was not going to use that tone with me. All that innocent one.
I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it. "Although my c*ck hurts, too. But I know why it hurts. I've read on Google that when an erection lasts for extended period of time without an orgasm, it gives you blue balls, which is also known as epididymal hypertension. It can be uncomfortable, but usually isn't serious and—"
"Stop! Wait!" Why the fuck was I even listening to his shit? "I don't want to know why your d*ck hurts. Just leave me alone."
"You can help me with it. Just let me put it in you or you can suck me off, too. The pain will go either way," he shrugged.
Why were we having this conversation again?
"I'm not letting you put your d*ck anywhere near me and I am certainly not sucking you off. Just go and find someone else to get rid of your pain."
He licked his lips, "Wouldn't it bother you if I fucked someone else?"
"No. Go now. Please."
He licked his lips, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. But answer my question first. Why does it hurt, Stella? When you tell me you don't want to see me?"
"Why don't you go and search this on Google instead?" I cocked my brow.
He actually seemed to consider my question. "I have you now. Why would I go and ask Google? Don't you have an answer for me?"
"No, I don't. Just leave, Christian. Please."
He nodded and simply got up and left without saying anything.
*********
CHRISTIAN'S POV :-
So I Googled it. Like my Stella told me to.
It told me that the pain from rejection activates your parasympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for things like your heart rate and muscle tension.
But Google also said psychopaths didn't feel anything. But since Stella came, I'd been feeling. A lot, actually. Did that mean she was healing me? Could a psychopath actually be healed?
But then again, Google said that there was no cure for psychopathy. No pill could instill empathy, no vaccine could prevent murder in cold blood, and no amount of talk therapy could change an uncaring mind. For all intents and purposes, psychopaths were lost to the normal social world.
Even this fucking Google, which didn't even have a real mind, was confusing as fuck.
Now, I was feeling something again. Something close to...frustration?
I didn't think I have felt this before. But I have certainly seen others feeling it.
June 21, 1998
Mom said we were going to a party. And I have to be a good boy, which meant that I had to keep my mouth shut and not talk to others no matter what happens.
Mom also said not to embarrass her. She told me it's the signing of her book and if anyone asked me that do I know anything about this book, I have to say no and then leave.
Mom also said I have to act like a normal child. So, I Googled how normal children behaved. In short, Google told me to be polite. Good thing I had to keep my close so I didn't have to worry about sounding polite or not.
And Dad told me to wear a suit. And a tie. I didn't like wearing ties. I didn't even know how to knot a tie. But since Dad had said, I had to wear it. Or else he'd be mad.
So, I went to mom, asking her to help me knot my tie. She was wearing a red dress and was applying some makeup when I entered her room. I had no idea why she did that, wear makeup, that is. She was already the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, even beautiful than her friends. She didn't need any makeup.
But like mom had told me, I kept my thoughts to myself.
"Mom?"
I heard her sigh before she closed the bottle of whatever she was applying on her eyes and turned to look at me.
"What is it, Christian?"
"Dad told me to wear a tie. But I don't know to knot it. Will you help me? Please?" I asked her.
She pressed her lips in a thin line. "You're a smart kid, aren't you? Why don't you do it yourself?"
I blinked. Twice. I had noticed it in myself that I seemed to do that whenever I didn't have an immediate answer to someone's question. "Why would I when I have you? You can help me out, right? I have read moms do that for their kids."
She turned back towards the mirror, "Go do it yourself, Christian. Or ask your dad. He'll help you."
"Does that mean you don't know how to do it?" I paused, remembering something. "But I have seen you do it. You always do that for dad when you kiss him goodbye when he goes off to work. Then why can't you—"
"Christian, leave."
"But, mom—"
"I said go! Don't wear a tie." She vaguely motioned her hand towards me. "It's not like that someone is even gonna look at you." She paused, then, "You know what, it's better if you don't go at all. You're just gonna embarrass me with all your stupid questions there. Go back to your room. I'll order you dinner."
But I wanted to go. I liked attending parties. It meant being around normal people. I liked watching them, noticing how different they were from me.
"But, mom—"
She let out a small growl, which meant she was frustrated by me. "Just. Go. Back. To. Your. Room."
Okay, then. I guess the plan had been canceled.
"Okay." I left her room and came back in mine, changed back to my comfortable clothes, put my headphones on and put on some music, like I'd seen normal children doing in the movies.
I just hoped mom wouldn't miss me much when she's gone to the party.
Now, I didn't know what to do.
Stella was mad at me and I had no idea why. I had given her two orgasms and I read on Google that orgasms made women happy, but Stella was just the opposite of happy. She even told me to fuck another woman. I swear she was weirder than me.
Stella didn't have an answer, Google didn't have an answer, Caroline avoided me through and through and Arnold was just so stupid.
I guess I was the only one smart here.
And I didn't know why mom thought I was stupid.
************
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