WHEREVER YOU STRAY I'LL FOLLOW | CORIOLANUS SNOW X GN!READER

2. Rough on the surface...

"Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife." - Willow by Taylor Swift

A/N: Contains sexual themes and gaslighting.

He was always so quick to leave, once had had satiated his hunger for carnal relief. After a moments repose to catch his breath, Coriolanus never hesitated to pull away from you, already weary of your presence. All you could do was draw your bed covers across your bare form and watch the blond swiftly clean himself up and get dressed. Sometimes he would grace you with a quick smile and a muttered 'goodbye'. On other occasions, he would simply exit your quarters, without so much as a glance in your direction. You were not sure which was worse really. The minimal engagement, that had you thinking about that smile for days at a time or the aloofness, that made you want to weep with despair. Both hurt in equal measures.

"Are your wrists okay?"

Your spiralling thoughts of self-pity were promptly interrupted by his unexpected question. Only then, did you recognise the unfamiliar discomfort, that plagued certain parts of your body. Whatever had dissatisfied the blond during the day, had resulted in a rougher than usual session.

You had not minded, in fact you had enjoyed yourself immensely. Seeing some of his signature composure slip like that, had been exhilarating. You flexed your wrists, wincing at the sight of the mottled bruises. "I didn't realise how tightly you'd held onto them." where else on your body would you discover similar fingerprints? A map of where he had held, squeezed and gripped onto your flesh, as he got lost in the throes of pleasure.

He could not pinpoint what exactly it was about your tone, that caused him to falter getting dressed. While Coriolanus might not have cared for your personal well-being, he was mindful of his own his own desires. Bedfellows such as yourself were easy to come by, but that being said, he had grown comfortable with your arrangement. There was a convenience that came with visiting your quaters that the young man was unwilling to give up. He could already feel the migraine forming within his temple, at the thought of you dissolving your agreement, over him being too rough with you. "Was it too much?"

Had boundaries been overstepped, Coriolanus wondered with rising panic. You had not expressed any disliking to his...more aggressive techniques during your intimate time together. You had voiced your dislikes in the past, so surely tonight would not have been any different. Right? Every move, every degrading thing he had moaned, every act the blond had committed, played over and over in his head on loop. He analysed every minutiae detail, desperately trying to recollect anything he could have possibly done wrong.

"Um...no, no it was fine."

The need to panic was over, he thought, instantly relieved. He was in the clear and free to leave and return when the whim so took his fancy. "I'll have a balm delivered to your door in the morning. It'll soothe the bruising."

Only a few more buttons were left to be done up and then he could escape into the night. Coriolanus's mind was already planning the next chapter of his evening.

Tigris and Grandma'm would likely have finished their dinner by now. Perhaps he could drop by and see them both before heading home to his own quarters. Perhaps they would even off him some leftover dessert to take away with him.

"Oh, you don't-" there it was, that hopefulness in your voice. He hated it. Hated its constant presence. Though it served him and his manipulation of your feelings, it was a drag to continuously have to extinguish and delusions you had about his intentions towards you.

All Coriolanus had said was an off-hand comment. One that did not take into consideration your own pain but merely a way for the young man to maintain his reputation. "It'll prevent anyone from asking where you got the marks from."

Up until now, the blond had not bothered to even spare you a glance, but now, he watched your expression with predator-like intensity. Monitoring your reaction to his words.

"Right." you nodded, almost as if functioning on autopilot. It was almost thrilling, he mused, watching the spark of optimism fade from your expression, as you processed the meaning behind his words. "Right, of course." Coriolanus did not see his actions as cruel. Not at all. What he was doing, was merely curbing any falsehoods that arose within your expectations. It was for your benefit, really. If he let your imagination run away with itself, then you would only end up getting emotionally hurt.

At least, that was Coriolanus wholeheartedly believed, each time your misconceptions required taming.

No further discussion was had between you both, as he collected his jacket from your desk chair. So, his leaving would be one in silence this time, you noted. Deciding that, actually, you preferred the barely there smile. Some acknowledgement of your existence was better than his indifference. And then, like a thief in the night, he was gone. Door shut behind him with another glance in your direction. Another little bit of your dignity chipped away to the soundtrack of his receding footsteps on the carpeted flooring.