Creed of the Leviathan I

57 | E

Emmanuelle

I stayed awake until the early hours of the morning of our last day in New York. This trip was meant to be memorable, yet there I was; stressed, worried and sad. I cannot remember what time it was when I heard the front door open. I do remember jumping up, thoughts rushing through my weary mind.

"Marco?"

He removed his shirt and got into bed, laying with his back towards me. "Go to sleep, Nuelle."

He was tired, so was I but I could not sleep and neither could he. I took a deep breath and rolled over to my side, facing his back.

"Marco," I wrapped my arm around him as to hug him from behind.

"I'm tired." He spoke in a broken voice.

"Please," I dared myself and started placing kisses on his shoulder as my hand went down to his crotch.

"Stop!" He grabbed onto my hand. "I'm not in the mood." He was just about to sit up when I stopped him by  straddling him. Air was huffed through his nose out of irritation as he quite literally pushed me off him and stood up. I pulled at his arm to stop him from walking away. Looking up at him with thirsty eyes, I could see the doubt in his.

"Don't leave," I took this as an opportunity to try to win him over. Sex surely was not the best option to solve our problem. But, I knew it would bring us together which is all I wanted for our last night in New York. He gulped as he stared down at me with hesitance to give in. "Marco," I left deep kisses along his neck and next thing I knew he had pushed me flat onto my back. Before I was able to prop myself up, I was flipped onto my stomach and by my hips he had pulled me to the edge of the bed. I gasped at the manner in which he handled me which was with much more roughness than usually. My heart raced and as I quietly laid with my face pushed into a pillow and my bottom in the air, waiting for him to make his next move, I started to lose trust in the fact that he could never hurt me. After all, he was not in the right state of mind due to his anger.

I felt him tangle his fingers in my hair and without warning he had yanked my head towards him. I bit down on my teeth as the sting rushed through my body, no longer in the mood to have sex. "You hurt me," He whispered in dark voice in the second that my head was lifted from the pillow before it was once again pushed down into it. Vigorously, my dress was pushed upwards until it hung only slightly over my hips. I became more nervous once the sound of his hand meeting my bare skin with a sharp, painful slap was what filled the gloomy, cold room.

He had diverted his anger into the harsh spanks that he had given me over and over again. I tried to turn around to face him, but the moment we made eye contact he had grabbed the back of my head and once again pushed my face into the pillow. Quickly he pulled my panties down after which I felt him enter me with a fast, hard thrust that made my legs collapse. I screamed into the pillow but Marco did not faze at the sight of this— the sight of me in obvious pain. He picked me up somehow and kept going until he finished. Once I felt him remove himself from me my knees fell to the ground.

"What did you do!" I yelled once my mind had processed that he had finished in me.

"You wanted sex, we had sex."

"Marco, I'm not on the pill. You asshole."

He turned around and looked me dead in the eyes, "Good. Maybe we'll be left alone then."

I broke down, crying. I cursed at myself, at Marco, at my whole damn life. My bottom ached and all I wanted was for the pain to stop. I was still on the ground when the sun came up. Tears were still evident on my face. Marco was not anywhere in the room. I could not remember if he left and I could care less if he did. After hours of drowning in self pity, I forced myself up and into the shower. I scrubbed myself over and over again, especially where Marco touched me. However, no matter how many times I had done this— the idea of the way I felt stayed.

When I was done with my shower and walked back into the room I saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, his side facing me. He turned towards me and when his eyes shot up at mine they were blood red as if he had been crying. A part of me felt bad for being mad at him when I saw how broken he looked, whereas the other part of me just wanted to scream in his face that manipulating me into forgiving him by making me feel guilty was not going to work.

"Nuelle," he got up, making me step back as he came closer. He opened his arms, hinting that he was coming in for a hug. I crossed my arms, hinting that I did not want to be held. "Please," He said as he now had me with my back against the wall. "I shouldn't have done that, baby. I was jealous and mad, I let it consume me."

"I want to go home."

"Okay," he nodded, "We'll go home. Just a few more hours and we'll go home. And everything will be alright, yeah?"

I could not look him in the eyes, neither could I answer his question because I did not know if everything would be alright. He backed away from me after I told him that I needed some time to be alone. Once I was fully dressed he came into the room again, "Should I order you something to eat?" He asked very carefully.

"When is our flight?" I answered, completely ignoring his question though I had not eaten anything since the day before.

"In six to seven hours. There's an art exhibition just a few blocks from here. That could take up a few hours, if you want to go?"

"I want to go home." I expressed, this time with my impatience showing.

"Nuelle, I'm trying here," he sighed.

"Don't. You've done more than enough." I started walking around the room to pick up after us. I was eager to have everything ready for our leave even though we still had quite the hours to spare.

"Hey—"

"Don't!" I pulled my arm away from him when he reached out to me which left him shocked and hurt. "Marco, I need space. So, please. Just, go get me the food and I'll finish up."

He did not reply to me, perhaps he had finally excepted that bugging me was not going to make things better between us. The moment I heard the front door lock I breathed out in relief. I continued making my rounds around the room to gather our stuff. And after my suitcase was packed I crawled back into bed, making sure to lay on my stomach. My mind could not catch a break as I started replaying every second of what had happened. Every now and then I would open my eyes to glance at the clock which seemed to be stuck on the same time. Somehow I must have fallen asleep through all the overthinking that I did. I woke up startled about two hours later and in the process of getting up I had shifted from position and sat down which caused my face to scrunch up from the pain that rushed through my veins.

"Turn around." Marco who was sitting in the chair beside the bed stood up.

"I got it." I announced before he was able to touch me.

"You were asleep when I came in. I went to the drugstore to get you something to help with the pain," he held up a small tube that had a prescription sticker on it. "May I?"

"I can do it myself." I insisted.

Marco went to kneel down next to me, "Please, let me help."

He took my silence as acceptance of the help he offered. With much caution, he exposed my bare bottom by uncovering my skirt. Luckily, I had skipped out on wearing panties because I could only imagine how worse it would have felt with the tight fabric brushing against my skin. I automatically held in my breath when I felt him touch me until the coolness of the lotion temporarily eased my pain.

"I'll put some on again before we leave. I'll warm up your food, I put it in the fridge."

I only nodded, saying thank you did not feel right. How could it if he was the one that caused the pain?

He returned with a Chicken Sandwich that made my stomach roar. And whilst I was eating, I watched a random movie that was playing on the TV. Marco took this time to pack his suitcase and take care of our hotel bill. By the time we were set to leave, we had survived over four hours of being in each other's company without talking.

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A 'lil late but Happy NwYear!