A Wanted Submissive

20

Rian's p o v

A/n: so… I rewrote some of this chapter because… tbh I knew I could do better. To those who already read this chapter…😅😅 sorry and to the new comers (actually to all of you guys) thank you for making it this far. 🥰🥰🥰 Reading your comments and getting your support is literally the highlight of my day. 💕

…PTSD. That's all I can say about the weeks being back. I felt  like something inside of me… something big had been stolen from me.

Something that you couldn't see in my eyes anymore, I don't know but more than anything I wanted to forget it. I wanted to escape the very idea that…

It was me. All of this was really happening to me. I let all that pain and all that unhappiness happen to me.

I shut my eyes at the very thought and tried not to drown in the feeling of remembering.

A cabinet closing snapped me out of the moment and I turned to Gabriel pouring cereal in a bowl. I looked away and back down to the breakfast I was yet to make. My empty plate feeling impossibly heavy.

"I will only tolerate this behaviour for so long Orian."

He's movements filled the entire room until he sat down and began to eat. I'd lost focus during the whole thing and found myself staring away from space and back down to my plate.

I lost any urge to eat but I remembered his words and believed them. Another thing that being back home made me notice was Gabriel's willingness to act as though all this… was so normal.

One moment I was looking at him through the eyes of another human face. I was staring at dead eyes, apathetic eyes.

Then the next he was joking about my tendency to wonder into bathrooms he was showering in or to mistakenly bump into him as though I couldn't see him.

He was smiling that strange smile again and I was fighting a panic attack. Or the need to crawl into a small tight ball. Mostly I was running though, avoiding eye contact and trying to be alone.

I blindly put food on my plate and sat down with him. I tried to act nonchalant but my hands shook around my fork, "I'm not Harley Quinn."

"What," his head went up curiously as though this weren't the first time I had said anything to him since he'd let me come home.

My eyes fell, "you can't just… do some seriously fucked up shit and then expect me to put on a sweet smile and call you Puddin'. I can't pretend to know who you are."

The words felt good to say but when he laughed after a moment of silence, I feared him so completely that I would do anything to be away from him. I dared to look up at his face for just a minute. My blood froze.

"You don't know how much I want to rip your tongue out… and feed it to you."
First his jaw clenched and then his fist.

"And yet here you are. Speaking freely," he said to his cereal looking down at it for a moment but then he made eye contact with me and I couldn't look away.

"complaining," at this he laughed again.

"I–I…" I struggled with my words and a bowl flew past my head and smashed into the wall behind me.

All of this rendered me speechless. He had been so calm and quiet and kind for so long. Of course I didn't trust or believe it for a moment but I never expected his mood to shift so quickly and completely.

"You're sorry," he said to me before standing and heading for the door, "yes I know."

                               |§|

At school I reluctantly became a happier person. Not by much but fearing constant anguish forced me to try.

The school bell rang unfastening me from my place in front of my locker. The day's schedule was busy.

Speaking of, I could hear familiar footsteps clambering towards me while I lazily closed my locker, "how? Tell me how it is possible that for three. Long. Years," Stephie began in greeting And I sighed lightly, "I begged and pleaded for you to try joining just one– one extramural activity and every time what did you say–"

"Look Stephie can we not? I know that your the president of every club and you plan every activity but I don't really feel like talking about the ones I am now a part of."

She stopped talking and stepped back like she had been slapped. She swallowed smally and said, "is this about– Rian I'm sorry about the club.

'you said you weren't upset. I thought–"

I couldn't force myself to keep listening... And shamefully, secretly … some small part of me felt satisfaction at seeing that I was hurting her.

I interrupted, "and I'm not. I'm not angry Stephie but I have to get to Chemistry club."

As I passed her I said smally, "I'll talk to you later."

But I didn't plan on it and I knew I had been avoiding her texts for a while now. As if I had friends to be throwing away… as if I didn't feel so alone.

But what could I say? If I did talk to her.

It was homeroom right now but the chemistry club had made arrangements to meet since I had so much catching up to do if I was going to be able to play in the first competition of the semester.

Our schools team hadn't ever qualified to enter because there were too few members.

I was desperate enough for an excuse not to go home when school ended that I gladly fixed their problems.