Undeniable (Feitan x Reader)

Chapter 45: Wash My Sins Away

The water ran red for what seemed like an eternity. You didn't know what was your blood and what was his. As much as every part of you wanted to panic, a calmness came over you—one that you couldn't really understand.

My father is dead, because of me. I should feel a drop of remorse, but somehow I don't. He... got what was coming to him, but why don't I feel sad? I just feel empty.

It was a shadow that took over your heart. It made you colder, almost catatonic. Your eyes were bloodshot; half of it was from sheer exhaustion, half from the strain you just put your body through. You could feel the looming figure behind you, waiting for you to finish washing your face.

Almost immediately, you sank into the floor—towel in hand. Your hands were steady. You drew a deep breath and closed your eyes. "Cry, dammit!" you thought to yourself, but there wasn't a single tear that left your eyes.

"Fuck," you whispered so quietly you almost didn't make a noise.

Your hand gently rubbed your collarbone, feeling a spot of dry blood you had missed. Using the towel, you violently scrubbed it off until you felt nothing but a burning sensation.

"....." He just stared at you. There wasn't a definitive expression on his face.

He hovered over you for a few more seconds before he walked away. You felt a bit of relief wash over you.

As you ran your fingers gently across your face, you traced over newer scars that had surfaced recently. They weren't noticeable, but they added a tiny bit of character to your face. You hesitated to stare at your reflection in the mirror. These last few months, you were on the go so much, you couldn't remember the last time you cared about what the reflection staring back at you looked like.

Why do I care what I look like all of a sudden?

"Feitan... you know you don't have to say anything at all, right?" you said, not even looking at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, silently processing what happened in the last 24 hours.

For a moment, you welcomed his silence. This was a safe place between now and the unknown that you could stay in forever.

Feitan didn't want to admit it, but this strange silence that stood between you and him was beginning to scare him. He was no stranger to violence, blood, or even murder, but he couldn't accept that these were all things that were beginning to infect you too.

Your hands didn't tremble, your voice didn't shake. You were still, calculated, and quiet. He was familiar with this quietness; the type that consumed you after committing an act as cold as the one you had. He almost hated himself for being so hypocritical of you, but this vision of you he had held on to for so long was beginning to blur; the last thing he wanted was for you to become like him.

Despite all the time and distance that had separated you two, there was a feeling of mutual understanding when you laid down on the bed and he followed. Your back was facing him, but he stayed close enough to reach over and hold you if you needed it. Immediately, the warm scent of honey, vanilla, and a faint touch of blood overcame him. This was the smell that he dreamed of every night.

"Feitan," you whispered. You were not sure if he was already asleep.

"Yes?" Of course he wasn't. He always waited for you to fall asleep before he ever allowed himself to close his eyes.

"How long did we book this room for?" you asked, groggy from being tired, but there was an air of confusion as well.

"You don't remember? Um... two days," Feitan replied. He almost regretted answering you. He didn't want to say anything that would set you off. As much as your recent actions scared him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you again.