The Bone Cutter

Chapter Forty-Nine

hi its been a while. 

i got a comment a bit ago basically saying mirea is a boring character and lacks substance that comment would probably hurt my feelings if i had some but also it's the most honest and true comment I have ever received and so due to my appreciation for the feedback, I also now hate mirea  

you guys convince me of things so easily that's not fair 

glad 2 b back tho

it took me a year to write this shit chapter lol its funny at this point pls laugh 

Chapter Forty-Nine

Fried. My dignity, or what little of it I had managed to hoard left, was fried. At this point I might as well serve my body to Inanis on a silver platter, and let him consume of me what he wished. 

I'm avoiding him not because I'm ashamed of what I did, but because I want him to think I am. Ever since he most definitely 'won' in our little bedroom game, he has been adamant on his arrogance, and ten times more insufferable.

His obnoxious attitude and certainty of not being my used plaything has grown in such grand proportions that I can't stand to be near him due to him constantly wanting to touch me. He's always holding my hand, and coiling his arm around my waist, which I have nothing against, but he bothers me when he does, because now he knows I admitted to liking him. He doesn't touch me because he wants to, he touches me because he knows doing so gives him the upperhand.

What a bitch.

I am his wife. I do like him, in fact I love him. I hate that he knows that now.

If he knows I love him, then his arrogance only expands. To anyone else it would be cruel of me to be angry that they know they are loved. Inanis is an exception. He needs to be hated, or the power will go to his head.

I laid miserably on the hotel bed, the five-star quality of the room was almost so luxurious it began to mold into a fashion of what I can only describe as 'tacky'. The gold was getting redundant, and I was beginning to miss the simplicity of poor-people aesthetic.

The hotel room swung open, and Inanis strode in like a man who invented the concept of  confidence. I refuse to even look at him.

"What are you doing? It's nearly noon."

"Then leave without me." I tell him, rolling over to my side.

"Your laziness is an ungodly-"

"Finish that, and I'll begin to point out your flaws." I lift my head, "I'll start with nag." I immediately wince at the insult that is so very much like something he would say.  I have definitely spent too much around him.

He sighs, "Darling, as much as I would love to join you, you are leaving me no choice but to call my mother." 

I lift my head off the pillow, "What?"

"Didn't you know?" He says so sweetly, "My mother is in the next room over."

"You're bluffing."

"I don't bluff. That word is so hideous."

"You're mother should be in the hospital."

"And your father should be dead." He flicked his wrist, "Is my threat working?"

I sit up, his threat was sort of working. "No. You're all talk. Your fancy threats are just a waste of verbal sound."

"Alright." He says so simply, as he spins around, and walks over to the hotel phone. I jump up so fast, the room spins. I grab the phone from his hand, and slam it back down on the nightstand.