The Dead Among Us

Preparing for the night

Fabia's POV

My head is on his chest, but only because I'm too exhausted to get up. I despise him right now. Every warm thought I've ever held for him has flown out the window, along with my pride.

He keeps stroking my hair, caressing my body, and whispering in my ear, but I don't sense it or understand what he's saying.

In truth, I want to hurt him back, I want to embarrass him, I want to fuck his brother just for revenge. I know only pain will befall me if I do. The actual person who will be hurt is me, not him. 

  His fingers clamp onto my damp chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I resist, my eyes darting everywhere but his face, a silent protest against his control. I know I look childish, and I don't care.

"Fa, look at me..." he orders with a mix of sternness and gentleness.

"I don't want to," I manage to mumble, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions.

A subtle smile curls on his lips, prompting me to wonder how he could possibly be smiling in this situation.

"Why?" he inquires, maintaining his grip on my chin.

"Because I hate you," I spit, my words laced with venom. I pry my face free from his hands and try to look away, but he grabs me even tighter.

My breath catches in my throat as he shifts us, laying me on my back in his arms, his body just barely over mine. Our noses nearly touch as he speaks.

"Hating me will get you nowhere. But you can hate me all you want; you're still mine."

"You tricked me..." I cry, keeping my eyes low.

"I didn't trick you... I gave you an out."

I swiftly counter, "You didn't explain what being responsible for me would mean for me."

"Imma be honest. I didn't expect you to be so resistant," he admits.

His fingers tenderly slide across my cheek, moving stray hairs behind my ears.

"Fa," he mutters.

"—You know that's not my name, right?" I hiss, interrupting him.

"Fabia," he says again, now wiping a tear drop from my eye. The way my name rolled off his tongue just gave me the chills.

Not now, Fabia! Keep it together. You are still mad at him!

"What's wrong? Something deeper is going on besides the spanking."

Oh, you mean like the sexual energy radiating off you and Manny isn't overwhelming? The fact that I'm worried about Eliza? Or that I'm having to adjust to a submissive, restricting life? That my hand is deformed for the rest of my life? That you literally just whipped me until I couldn't fight anymore? Or that I miss my sweet father with every fiber of my being?

"I really don't want to talk about it, Sabin..." I whisper as tears brim in my eyes, ready to cascade down my cheeks. I try to stifle my sobs, swallowing hard to keep my feelings in check. Unexpectedly, Sabin's hand slips around my head, drawing me close as he plants a soft, reassuring kiss on my forehead.

...What was that?...

"We need to talk about tonight, though," he says.

"Yeah, Got it. Behave or else..." I respond, using the blanket to dab at my tears.

"Fa, listen. I get the feeling you aren't accepting our ways very well. I need you to pretend."

"Sometimes I think you don't believe your own ways, Sabin," I retort.