Amaris
I am such a jackass.
Really, I totally am.
Poor Anna is so frustrated with me as I keep insisting that we either stay inside and watch Netflix while eating our weight in junk or just letting me swim in shorts and a dark t-shirt.
She's not having any of it. But I'm not having that flimsy thong bikini she keeps dangling in front of my face.
She groans, a small smile tipping her lips up while doing so. At least I know she isn't for real angry with me. "Please Amaris! Just try this one. I know it's-" she pauses while tilting her head side to side, "revealing, but it's the only one I have that covers the most skin." Her cheeks bloom pink.
Nothing wrong with showing some skin. I don't judge her for it. I just don't want to give her pervert brother free access to my butt cheeks or possible nip slips happening in front of anybody that might be around.
I snatch the scraps of fabric from her hand with a huff. "Not that I disapprove of your tastes, I just don't think it would be very appropriate for me to wear." I murmur, hoping she pities me.
"Nonsense. It's exactly appropriate." She stands and pushes me toward her bathroom. I reluctantly go and place the bikini on the countertop.
I stare at my reflection. The shadows beneath my eyes aren't as dark as they were even just a few days ago. My sunken cheeks are filling back in and my naturally tan complexion is no longer dull.
As much as I hate it here, and as much as I miss having freedom, I am actually being taken care of rather well for a prisoner. The evidence is in the mirror.
Anna pops in and looks at me, lips pursed in question. "You going to change or..."
I eye the bikini again, working my bottom lip between my teeth furiously. There has to be a way to get out of wearing it.
Bingo! My period!
I look back at her. "I was thinking maybe I should have a different suit for sure because this is white and flawless," I start, watching her for any signs she is catching onto what I'm saying. "Anna... I bet my period is due to start. I know time as gotten a bit lost on me recently, but I had a pretty regular cycle. I'd hate to ruin your bikini." I smile and hold it out toward her.
She snorts and pushes my hands back into my chest. Seriously, what the heck? She pulls her shirt off. "You had your period while you were asleep and healing from your stab wound. You should start..." she walks back into her room topless. I take this time to accept my fate and yank my own top off and slip the bikini top on and tie the strings.
Turning around, I glance at the pink scar on my back. It's still tender and sometimes itchy, but it's closed and no scabbing is present. It's still hideous though. I quickly put my hair up in a ponytail and glare at the thong bottoms.
Anna breezes back in without a care in the world that her boobs are bouncing and swaying right in front of me. I avert my eyes and brush imaginary lint off of my leggings. "Your period should start on Monday, give or take," she shrugs and slaps a piece of torn off paper down on the counter for me to see.
Sure enough, she kept track. How thoughtful.
Horror suddenly flooded my veins in an ice cold flow. Someone took care of my feminine hygiene while I was unconscious. I never thought I'd wish for something like this, but I hope it was Anna and nobody else.
I need to know. I clear my throat awkwardly as I turn at the wrong moment and get an eyeful of her ass cheeks. At least it wasn't her twat. "Anna. Who, um, handled my bleeding during that time?" I wish I could melt into the floor and not feel this level of embarrassment.
"I did," she chirped and hoisted her barely there bottoms on. Christ, her bikini really shows practically everything. I honestly don't know why she bothered even putting one on. Skinny dipping would probably be more fitting at this point.
My smile is strained as I tell her, "Thank you. I'm glad it was you and I'm sorry you had to do that."
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure if I was in your place, you would've helped me out, being a nurse and all anyway," she shoots me a smile and chucks my chin. I suppose she's right.
But I wouldn't be so chipper about it.
A loud knock pulled her away and I close the door behind her. I made quick work in shedding my leggings and panties and slid the white little disaster up my legs.
Has Anna worn this before?
Never mind, I don't want to know. It's clean and that's about all I can ask for at this point.
I grab a towel from the cabinet and wrap it around my body then press my ear up to the door to listen in on whatever is being said.
I want to gag when I hear Felix's voice, but I have no idea what he's saying.
Why didn't they offer Russian as a foreign language option in high school?
I still wouldn't have taken it though.
An excited squeal later, the bedroom door is shutting and the bathroom one is swinging open. I just barely managed to slip back far enough to make it look like I was just standing there adjusting the towel.
Phew!
"Good news, Amaris! Vlad said we can swim as long as we don't..." she then air quotes, "his words, not mine, 'act like drunken whores or try to start some shit', so we have to be good little prisoners." She throws her head back and laughs.
Narrowing my eyes, I pin her with a look. "Why would he think we would act like drunken whores? Sure, I get the starting shit part, but drunken whores?" I make a pshh noise and follow her back out to her room, my steps faltering when I see the skin on her back.
I didn't notice it a moment ago, but there's no missing the multitude of scars lining her back. She must have been whipped hundreds-no thousands- of times.
Who the fuck did this to her?
I cover my mouth with my hand to avoid gasping out loud. I don't want to draw attention to it. I'm sure it's a touchy subject and she's looking forward to tonight. I don't want to sour the mood.
Anna sits on her bed and starts pulling her hair up into a high ponytail. I admire her for a moment. She really is beautiful. She looks so much like Felix that I want to be disgusted looking at her too, but she's a doll. And even if I hate admitting it, Felix is a handsome dude.
He's just a pervert and an asshole.
"Sometimes I hit the hard liquor too much and act like a shlyukha."
Arching a brow, I wave at her to elaborate. She knows I don't speak Russian. I fight rolling my eyes.
Anna giggles softly and stands, grabbing my hand and leads me to the door.
She leans up close, her lips touching my ear as she whispers, "A slut."
Oh, okay then. Whatever or whoever she wants to do is her business.
Shrugging nonchalantly, I smile and let her lead me to my doom.
With my free hand holding on tightly to my towel, I listen to our bare feet slap the marble flooring as we make our way through halls and corridors.
Anna fills the silence with idle chatter but my eyes stay glued to her exposed back and the canvas of scars it is.
With how freely she walks around in little to nothing, I guarantee her brother has seen these scars. If he hasn't killed whoever put them there, then I am willing to bet it's for a reason.
He can't.