Purposeful Intentions-Yelena Belova x Reader

Emotional Paralysis

Her lungs burned with the inability to draw in any breath. She pushed her chair away from the table, her body desperately screamed to get away. He was too close, the confession hit too hard. He'd suddenly felt all encompassing and overwhelming.

The room started to spin and Yelena couldn't see past the pain on the faces of all her peers. She didn't know how long it took but she made it to the door, and he made no move to stop her.

"Did you do it for anyone else?" It came out before she could stop it, and the lack of oxygen furthered the tightness in her chest.

He looked at her for a moment and studied her. Pain was painted across the features of her face, but he still couldn't deny her beauty. A large part of him believed he'd never see her again. Never hear her deep laugh, or the way she cursed in Russian under her breath when she'd lose a piece in chess.

She felt his eyes run over her, and they seemed to linger on her trembling lips until stopping at her eyes. He looked so distraught that they didn't hold any brightness anymore, he looked dull, full of nothing.

"No, just you."

Why? She wanted to scream. She wanted to grab his collar and shake him until he said something that wouldn't break her. She wanted to know why he thought he had the right, and she wanted to know what he expected from her in exchange. Nothing in life came for free, it was something she learned at such a young age.

But she didn't scream at him, she didn't have the ability to. Her limbs felt heavy and she still hadn't been able to take in a full breath. Questions continued to thrash around her mind, but every one of them remained stuck in the back of her throat. Once the room leveled out and she felt steady again she made her way out the exit. She never looked back to him, and he never did anything to pull her back.

Her feet carried her numbly through the house and back to her room. She ended up on the floor of the shower, grateful to have the only room in the building with an adjoining bathroom.

The water was hot enough to turn her skin into a blotchy red mess but she didn't move to turn it down. She tried to focus on the sensations the water sent through her body, convinced it could prevent her mind from spiraling.

Her tears started slow, slow enough they caught in the water and she hadn't noticed them. It wasn't until the first sob racked through her chest did she realize she was crying. And once she started, she couldn't stop.

Again Yelena found herself breaking down due to the inability to process her own emotions. She felt so frustrated, so sad, so angry, so confused, and the list went on. They all clashed under her skin until her body buzzed with an indescribable sensation. She covered her mouth with her hand as her breathing turned into gasps.

Her mind replayed images of the girls that had been assaulted in her place, the ones violated instead of her. She wanted to blame him, and was glad to finally have a reason to hate him. So she sat there and tried. Tried to picture him as evil as the men who raised him. Imagined throwing him out and being happy about it. No matter what she attempted to picture, or how hard she tried it didn't work. All she could actually see was a little boy with a big smile and bright eyes. An innocent child that spent his life clinging to a promise he made to a scared girl. It all came down to an argument the group had in the beginning. He was no different from them. He didn't choose his father, where he grew up, how he was raised, or who he spent his time with. He had been as much of a puppet as she'd been, perhaps even worse.

Everything inside her felt heavy and she leaned her head against the cool tile of the wall. The contrast in temperature had only been slightly soothing, and still not enough to pull in a lung full of air. She started to feel lightheaded and wondered if she'd pass out on the shower floor. A large part of her felt welcomed by the idea because unconsciousness brought thoughtlessness, and that was all she wanted.