Colour of the day (08. 05. 2025), Dreamwidth Red #12. Warm Heart #05

[analogbasilisk]

Universe: Beschiverse
Story: Of Rusted Hearts & Stained Palms
Title: I want you inside of me like a plague
Colour: Colour of the day (08. 05. 2025) - premonish, Dreamwidth Red #12. Feed, Warm Heart #05. Need
Supplies and styles: brush (08.05.2025 - modicum), stain, silhouette, graffiti, canvas, chiaroscuro
Stain: [08.05.2025] If you do not think about your future, you cannot have one. - John Galsworthy
Resinn lyricaltitles  Album Challenge [Immaculate Conception by Zolita | Song: Hurt Me Harder]
Word count: 370
Rating: Mature
Warnings: implied abusive relationship

Sloan had smelled and sounded like the worst kind of trouble Faith could get in her life. With her sharp smile and sharper eyes. There, when they’ve met in that back alley, all Faith’s instincts told her Sloan was the perfect woman to ruin her life, her soul, to make the corruption burn in a pleasant way.

Faith, or Maya to her cool older girlfriend, needed action.

Sloan had whispered on her ear, her hand shoved under Faith’s pants and pressing her against the wall, how cute she was. How much Sloan liked an adorable jailbait like her. She had chuckled when Faith said she was, indeed, not underage. You look like you are.

Stuart, in his little posh scholar era (nevermind Faith is the one with the posh accent she suppresses all the time), would go on and on about how Sloan was as toxic as Lake Karachay. That if it went sound, he premonished it (as if someone still used that fucking world). He told her she better not come home bruise and bloodied, and she told him Sloan wouldn’t hurt her.

The first time questioned how Sloan treated her, Faith made sure he knew Sloan didn’t touch her without consent and such. Yeah, the bare minimum. The medicum of decency, she’s not a fucking rapist.

Stuart didn’t quite understand the burning need to hurt, something to feed the blasphemy rotting her soul. He cared about her health. He cared too much about an hypothetical future. You have to think about it, he had told her a few times, patching her split knuckles after yet another bar fight she got in. She needed an outlet for the rage and that wouldn’t be her girlfriend’s face.

He told her that her future wouldn’t e there if she didn’t think about it, didn’t plan.

Stuart didn’t felt the sin, the devil still gnawing on her chest even if she had stopped believing years ago. She needed the fire, she needed the warmth to keep her sane. Or mostly sane. It kept certain thoughts at bay.

Sloan was the oxygen making the fire burning higher and hotter.

She needed this love consuming her from inside out, infesting her like a ligue.

 

Comments

[bookblather]

You convey a really specific state of mind really well here. It's a hard (in a good way!) read.