𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭 S. Aizawa

Chapter 89 | You're Weak

I thought to react, and kick him, but something subdued me, making me watch.

He led my left hand to gently caress his jaw before taking both my hands and settling them at his neck.

My face was already a deep red, but my eyebrows were high in confusion as my stomach started to hurt.

He took his hands and rode up from my wrists to the back of my hands, bending my fingers to clamp around his neck. The soft caress from his hands to the back of mine was enough to give me anger for years.

What is he even doing?

He let his hands hold back around my wrists then ride up my arm, settling at my elbows.

He stared me in the eye,

"Kill me."

Hold on, what? Kill him? What the hell is he talking about? I don't want to kill him, I just want to hurt him. What is going on?

"What the fuck, Aizawa? I'm not going to fucking kill you." I spat out in disbelief.

"Do it. I know you can." He said, closing his eyes. "I know you have it in you."

"No what-" I said, trying to take my hands away from his throat.

He had a grip on my elbows, pushing at them to make sure I couldn't let go of his neck.

"Come on." He said, his eyes gently closed shut. "You want to."

"Aizawa, no." I yelled.

"One more chance." He said.

What the fuck is going on? All I wanted to do was hit him, killing is a whole different thing. There's gotta be something he's trying to do here.

My fingernails were digging into his neck, not hard, but not softly.

"I said no." I spat out.

He didn't open his eyes as his scarf quickly struck out. He let go of my elbows as his scarf wrapped around me, pinning my arms at my sides. The scarf had quickly wrapped around my body.

Do I even want to punch him anymore? What's going on?

"You're weak." He said, grabbing me by my shoulders and pushing me so hard into my apartment room I fell to the ground, sliding.

I slid on my ass, watching up as he slowly walked in. He closed the door behind him. His shoes clacking on the ground as he stared down at me, tilting his head. I pulsated, nervous and oblivious to what was even happening, or going to happen.

He lowered into a squat, hovering above my legs. I struggled in the scarf, an almost scratchy, but very soft fabric.

He made intense eye contact, I stared at his face, which wasn't angry.

He grabbed me up by my shoulders and threw me against the door. My right cheek slammed against the surface, as my stomach touched the door.

I gasped and winced loudly. I tried to look back but he slammed my head back onto the door. I almost screamed.

He pressed himself up against me, with his hand still on the back of my head, holding me in place.

"How many chances did I give you?" He asked.

"What?" I ask, confused, it's not like I was counting, I didn't even know what was going on.

"How many chances did I give you?" He repeated.

"I don't know." I said, nervously.

The scarf tightened as he leaned, further pressing into me,

"Enough." He said.

I winced with the scarf tightening around my arms, hurting them.

"I gave you enough." He said. "Why didn't you?"

"Are you joking?" I breathed out. "I wasn't going to fucking kill you."

"It would have made everything so much easier." He said.

"What?" I started to almost get scared.

"I didn't want to do this, really." He said, fear growing larger in me. "Well, no, I do."

"Aizawa-"

"An eye for an eye." He said, leaning in to my ear.

"You deserve it anyway." He said.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reject that line from lingering within me.

"What?" I asked.

"Shut up." He said.

I closed my mouth, not knowing what else to say.

He still kept his hand on the back of my head. With the other, he started to gently pull my hair back. He pulled it and slid it to the other side of my shoulder.

He used his hand pressing on the back of my head to tilt my head to the side, exposing my throat.

He kept silent for a bit, then pointed and touched the skin.

"Here." He whispered.

The touch made me startle, his hands were a type of cold-warm.

"What?" I asked, scared, but almost turned on.

Wish I wasn't, but I can't help it.

"I told you to shut up." He said, pulling my head from the door by my hair, then slamming my cheek back into it.

I winced, loudly, my cheek growing hot and stinging.

"Shh." He whispered so close to my ear his breath stroked the outer part of it.