nothingness

The girl lay with her head face down. The wet fabric no longer bothered her. She had sobbed into her pillow for hours, until her eyes finally ran dry. She had nothing left to give. Only the hollow ache in her chest reminded her she was still alive. For what purpose? She didn't know. She didn't care. She vaguely wondered if driving something through her chest would expel the pain. Would the warmth of her blood soothe the chill in her hands? She wasn't strong enough to find out.

He said nothing upon uncovering her in this pitiful state, choosing merely to touch until she was as wet as the tears that spilled from her face. Underneath him, she almost forgot the source of her pain. It was always like this. A brief session of ecstasy that invoked feelings of shame and guilt once over. But what was wrong with that? Nothing. Or everything. Did it even matter?

She clung to him. He didn't mind her distress. His kisses were the same as always, hot and heavy but with an underlying sense of detachment. Still, he was the only one that wanted her. It didn't matter what way. It felt good to be wanted, after being shunned, betrayed, abandoned. She wanted to lose herself. He provided that.

The last kiss always left her head spinning. Her body tingled and ached simultaneously. He fell asleep. She curled up beside him, pillow still wet.

--

"Karelos. Wake up."

Murmurs broke into the girl's dreams. Turning, she rubbed at her partially swollen eyes and sat up immediately.

He was the only one who ever said her name.

"What's the matter?"

The blankets slid from her shoulders as she rose. He paused before answering. It was nothing new to him, but he was the type to admire his belongings.

"Was it you who did the dishes yesterday? We were out late. This morning they were gone."

"Yeah, I did them." She collapsed back onto the mattress but kept her gaze fixed on the man standing over her. "So what?"

"We have maids for a reason."

"Don't you have work?"

"Did you feel some obligation to do them?"

He wouldn't let her change the topic. She sighed in resignation, as she often did in their conversations.

"I felt like it, okay? Even back at home, I... Doing the dishes always calmed me down. Helped me relax."

She averted her gaze from his probing eyes. She doubted he understood, but got a vague sensation he was trying. Maybe.

He scoffed. Maybe not.

"You should become a maid then. Work for me that way."

"No thanks. I know what you used to do with your maids."

"Is that any different from what we do now?"

The urge to tell him to shut up overwhelmed her. She could never bring herself to say it. Only foolish animals bit the hand that fed it. She knew that as well as anyone.

She closed her eyes. She didn't know why such a small thing mattered. They had only been dishes. It had only been her.

"I'm sorry if that displeased you." She kept her gaze low in an effort to seem demure, ignoring the fact that a certain word used brought back bittersweet memories. "It won't happen again."

He reached out and stroked her cheek.

"Good girl."

She blushed despite herself. He did that to her.

She asked again, "Do you have work today, or not?"

He shook his head. She buried herself under the blankets.

"Come find me."

A small smile danced on his lips before he lifted up the sheets and rejoined her.