I’ve finished my meal now and I know that Peter will be the one showing up again...
Why am I not able to look at him as I did before? Am I duplicitous? Because I don’t care about Jay being a Beast, but I’m disgusted by Peter being one? No, it’s because he lied, it’s because he was trying to steal my trust. Isn’t that the same what I did?
It happened like I anticipated it.
Peter came to get my tray and he looked at me being silent, wearing a mask mixed of reproach and hurt. And I... I looked back at him, showing him just the same. Half way through turning away, he stopped, like his head denied following his body.
Yet, when he opened his mouth to say something, I dropped my gaze. I didn’t want to hear his voice, couldn’t bear to hear him speak. I simply couldn’t and he stayed silent and left. He left just to return and get me, along with Gray, to take me back to the cage. Of course I didn’t know if they really would take me there.
My heart must have grown since I got there, that often it had to race in my chest, endure me being close to panic attacks. I guess I know now that it is like to be paranoid, because my mind is able to come up with such horrid theories of what might happen to me next.
Still... as if nothing else had ever occurred, I found myself back in the cage again.
Jay’s cage. And I was alone in there – without my captors – once again. Alone with Jay.
From the little they had said I expected to find Jay just as before: completely changed, covered in cuts and bruises like they had used him as a fighting dog in some sick gladiator cage fight. And that was exactly what I saw, even worse. It was like they hadn’t made an attempt to patch him together this time. Literally, I saw wrath glowing all around him, like an aura of an over-heated metal. Instinctively, I looked up to the window.
“We cannot help him unless he’s calm”, White’s voice sounded distorted through the speaker, but that wasn’t what struck me like lightning and made me jump painfully: it was the way Jay reacted to it: Chains rang as he threw himself into them, tautening them so much that I feared that he would either tear them apart or dislocate his shoulders.
His snarl went directly into my bones resonating in them. He scared me. But this was still him.
“What did they do to you?” my own voice was merely a whisper, almost breaking, and I still don’t know.
He stopped growling and looked at me, still tensed in a way that I just waited for his muscles to snap.
That was the moment I realized I wasn’t scared of him, I was scared for him.
I don’t remember how I moved, just that I ended up holding his face in my hands, stroking his blood spattered face. He was covered with it, little spatters, not drowned in them, but it was enough for me to know that he had slashed something, or rather someone.
My touch calmed him down already and I took off my shirt, with no other intention than to clean his face while he watched me, marveled at me like I was some sort of saint.
Whatever they did to him, it makes it more difficult for him to calm down, to change back.
And it seems like I am the only one who is able to help. As if I am the anchor reminding him of being human.
I am sure now that this was the reason why I didn’t get to see him after my few days in prison.
Not because my punishment hadn’t been over, but because whatever had happened to him, whatever they had done to him, they weren’t sure if I could or would handle this.
After I managed to clean his face a little, and pushed him backwards so the tension in his shoulders would lessen. I continued with his chest and he flinched as I uncovered an injury. It looked hurtful, but what shocked me most was what it looked like. It reminded me of the marks on my stomach.
Claws.
It was futile to stop my mind from racing again, but there were no thousands of theories this time. My head felt like it was moving slowly, like wading through a swamp and every clear thought of mine rang like an old, heavy church bell.
Claws.
Beast.
Peter.
I tried so hard to focus on calming him down by being calm myself, but now it was impossible because of him looking like this – warped face or not.
The reason why my pulse changed with each of my strokes, with each uncovered proof of him having fought another beast, and he made me stop as he hesitantly placed his forehead against my temple.
I think he had never touched me that way before, or behaved like this in that state before. It made my heart do a full stop, just to stumble into high speed.
“Jay”, I heard myself whisper, I swallowed, and he replied with something that was a deep purr, originating from his chest, resonating in my whole body.
Strange that this sound makes me smile, even when I think of it. Put me back 80 days and I would think me insane.
I cleaned his clawed hands and he still didn’t look at my face, resting his head against mine, apparently watching what I was doing, until I was finished. Honestly a part of me wanted to see that he had already changed back, as he lifted his head. He hadn’t.
What I saw was even better. The way he looked at me hadn’t changed and I knew in my core that for him I wasn’t just a nice company to have, someone to serve his needs, someone that belonged to him.
We both heard the crack in the speaker, yet it was me who moved and kissed him, as far as this was possible.
Honestly, I cannot help it. I’ve got no idea how to explain this. I never imagined that I would ever be like this, that I ever wanted something like this, or someone. Every time it feels like I am being replaced, by a stronger, fiercer, more confident version of myself, as if he replenishes the energy this place is draining from me. And this version gains more and more strength, becomes more and more superior to the girl I once was.
I have never imagined that I would be the one pressing him against the wall, making out with him, let my tongue bring out my curiosity. Or that I would like to feel his claws piercing my skin.
His low growl gives me goose bumps when it sounds like that, like he is claiming me, even though he never acts like it. No, it’s rather like he is letting the world know that I want him. And this, this is so much better.
I guess he likes it when I pull his hair just a bit, digging my fingers into it. I don’t know why I was like that. It could be due a certain time of the cycle.
I don’t know, I just...
No one would ever believe me writing this, that I grind myself against him, trailing down my tongue on his neck, that I was doing this and not him. It’s not like I never needed him so much before. Something inside of me simply snapped.
You have no idea how I love these sounds he makes. Just for me. I guess that is why I did what I did. And I had never done that before. Trailing down my tongue and mouth, just like he had done a few times before today, until I was on my knees...
There might be some new claw marks in the wall... because of what I did.
I’m surprised and somewhat proud of myself. He wasn’t able to compose himself for long while I was doing that, but the fact that he tried and that he definitely loved it... it makes me grin like a Cheshire cat. I am almost too embarrassed, however – writing this down. Just like thinking and saying that it really was worth it.
As crazy as it sounds, when he pulled me up, and pushed me against the wall so fast in return that I could barely bring my hands up so I wouldn’t get my head smacked against it, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.
It felt insane. It might have been exactly like the first time, but I can’t compare it, because this time it was my doing and I knew the consequences. Hell, I wanted them. Yes, it did hurt in the beginning, but because of that it turned into something even more indescribable. Just like that moment of relief after the thousandth scratch. And I gasped out "yes, yes, yes" over and over again, so that he knew I wanted it. It didn’t take long for us both to come, not when doing it mindlessly like that.
I actually have to admit that I love him most
when he’s just in between, or rather in the first quarter of change, when his eyes glow like that, in this mysterious green.
Yes, he was almost back to normal when I was able to bring my legs back to carrying me around.
And, yes, I love it when he looks at me like that, this mixture of wanting me and adoring me, silently asking if I am real. I love it even more when I make him smile. How can I ever resist him when he smiles at me like that? He makes me feel as light as a feather and as glorious as the angel it has to belong to. I never want to stop kissing him, not that I have the chance to avoid that. I was completely innocent. Not guilty, your Honor.
But I guess he wanted to return the favor of being pressed against that wall, getting the air kissed out of the lungs. He was less careful, like he trusted himself as well as me to tell him when he started hurting me. This was true trust, something one could not steal, but truly earn and cherish.
And he returned the favor completely. Still, I can feel him, taste him, smell him. At least White – or whoever – had the courtesy to wait until I had caught my breath again. And I ask myself why do we have to be separated?
Oh yes, I forgot. I should be afraid of him.
So, when White told me to leave I brought my clothes back in order and left without turning back - no need to say that I hate it, right? I put my role back on when I stepped in front of him, where he was welcoming me back into the real world.
I’m sure he still underestimates me because he honestly answered that he would think about my proposal to become Jay’s nurse. At least he looked like he was approving of me trying to be of even more assistance to him.
I hope he gives me a chance, but somehow I feel like I have to encourage him, and I am still afraid of what that will take of me. I mean, if he needs to spank me again... I guess I could live with that. But I can’t... I doubt that he would want that. After all, I’m his subject’s entertainment. For him Jay is more animal than human, which makes me filth.
Day 86
Something has changed. I don’t know what or why, but I can feel it. Like you know that a window isn’t entirely shut. Maybe it’s me – I can’t tell – maybe something else. It’s not making me uncomfortable, quite the contrary, I must say, and that fact just makes me wonder if I should feel uncomfortable about it.
The day started off as any other day. As a normal day, like those before everything turned even darker. It’s not day 90, that would be a mark, right? That would be three months, but now... Three months, but it feels like years. Three months in which I have aged decades. In my head at least. I know that letting my head dive into paranoia won’t amount to anything. So... first Yoga and Tai Chi until Breakfast.
I wake up before the lights are switched on, since I go to bed early, which I have since I spend the last afternoons with Jay. That workout time slot, filled with repeating all those figures on my mat, which I had originally got to climb into the vent more comfortably, gets longer, but it helps against the ache. Of my head and my heart.
I don’t know what I expected: White to come and agree to my proposal? After just one night? Why would he even? I mean, it’s reasonable and there are many facts that speak for it. Of course, if he doubts me, he could think that I might want to take advantage of getting close to needles and drugs – which wouldn’t be wrong of him to think, because, apart from me getting more time to spend with Jay, that was exactly what I was aiming for. So of course it’s not a surprise that he doesn’t show up and, in the end, I guess eventually that’s because it was my suggestion, and not his. I guess I have to wait until I can make him believe that it was his idea.
Peter still doesn’t speak to me, which is hard for me to wrap my head around. He’s behaving like he’s sticking to his old rule again: to not speak until I do, but the game has changed. We cannot go back. Would he believe me if I just pretended like nothing had happened? If I try to act shy and concerned? How can people fake it all the time? Doesn't it tire them? I feel worn out simply by thinking about it.
I wish I’d have other things to do in my room, but it’s either reading or working out. I bet I’ve lost weight, I’ve definitely gained strength. Maybe that’s what I’m sensing.
It’s afternoon. I don’t know why I expected that they would come and pick me up again. It annoys me that I did. That I hoped, in this God-forsaken place. I need to calm down. I already tried sit-ups, pushups, Tai Chi in increased speed. I bet, if I had a mirror to look at myself doing this I would think that I’m watching someone else. I bet it looks pretty bad-ass.
Just, when I finally won the battle inside of me, when I was about to knock on that door to ask Peter, when I would be taken to the gym again, he opened it before my knuckles hit the metal.
“I’ve got something for you", he said, and I think that I stared at him in disbelief that he was in fact able to speak before I noticed the pile of books he had shoved into my hands.
“For me?” I blinked at him – retrospectively not my brightest moment. “Thank you!”
I don’t know why I thanked him, I guess it was because my mother had taught me to.
“Not from me”, he responded monotonously and left, shutting the door into my nose.
I have to admit that I feel bad. I mean I should feel bad, right? But it’s different. And I don’t like that it’s different. It worries me. In the back of my mind it makes me realize that I have changed much more than I openly admit. A part of me knows that I shouldn’t judge him, at least not that easily. Peter must have his very own hurtful reasons why he wasn’t honest, despite knowing that I obviously didn’t have any issues with facing a Beast.
However, again, I would have loved a mirror in my room because of the face I definitely made the moment I looked at those new books of mine. Medical books. I mean, that’s not an agreement, but it’s something. Maybe he just wants to keep me occupied, but I don’t care. One of them is on anatomy and it might be very helpful, definitely more helpful than White probably thinks. Again... I don’t know if that’s a good thing.
I started to read the books and I know, I just know, that White won’t agree to my proposal and just wants me to believe he does, because that’s who he is. He would give away too much of his control over me, over the two of us.
Actually I am fine with it, because these books are very helpful and distracting, regardless of the fact that this was White’s intention.
However, I keep continuing my workout. I want to improve my Tai Chi, because it is still martial arts and will come in handy someday. And I want to become tired quickly, especially because receiving these books means that I won’t see Jay again and I... I won’t accept that. I will take matters into my own hands.
Day 87
You know it actually helps telling yourself over and over again that you need to wake up after 5 hours of sleep. It works.
I’ve just returned from the gym and I’m tired, because I definitely didn’t get enough sleep. I went up the vent again.
I’m really getting faster at all of this and yes, I took my tools with me just in case. But the case didn’t happen.
There’s no way opening Jay’s vent from the inside and the slots are too small for me to push something like a tool through. And without Jay being there, who knows who else will find it? And even if they don’t put two and two together correctly, they will punish him. Again. And I can’t let that happen.
So it’s not important anyway. I don’t want to risk anything. First, I have to find a way out before I free him from there.
I went to visit him. On the way I was worried if he’d even be there, if he was still injured. When I got there... the cell was empty and my heart simply imploded. It took me some time to realize that the place wasn’t cleaned out, only tidy. Yet I knew that he hadn’t been there for quite a while.
How long I just sat there and shivered from the cold, staring down at the mattress I had found him lying the last and first time I was here, I can’t say.
Basically, I imagined watching him sleep dee
ply and relaxed, being completely healed and human. I was daydreaming about him being fine, so that I would see him again soon, because I couldn’t bear the thought that I would never see him again. I sat there until my bare feet started hurting.
When I got back, I didn’t bother looking at the clock on my iPod. I just made sure that everything was stashed away and got into my cold bed. It took half an eternity to warm myself up again, and I guess I had only just fallen asleep when the lights blazed into life.
Now I feel like a carnivore, they try to turn into a Vegan. I glare blankly at my food, knowing that I have to eat, and I do, because I’m oddly hungry, but I just can’t taste anything. It’s like... I eradicated my whole tray, just like Breakfast, I remember, but it doesn’t feel like it’s stuffing the hole in my stomach.
I just had to calculate.
My period is due in about 10 days. I don’t know why I worry about this. It’s the first time I actually think about this at all, that there might be a chance. Maybe I try to explain why I feel so different, why I am so hungry. But maybe it’s something else entirely.
Originally I wanted to start this paragraph completely different and now I catch myself thinking about getting pregnant.
It’s too dangerous for me to go again tonight, I know that, and I can’t ruin my sleeping schedule, because last night already wore me out that much. I can’t risk it all because of me being egoistic. I have to focus on gaining White’s trust.
It’s almost afternoon now and I keep wondering if I see him today or not.
So, I went anyway. I didn’t really have a choice. I woke up in the middle of the night, shortly after 3 a.m., being wide awake, worn out but far from falling asleep again easily. Maybe it was my door being shut again, after check-up, maybe my subconscious just set the timer of my inner clock.
The Beast And Me Page 23
