Insanity // J.Valeska

Part Twenty-One: The Laugh

Hmmm..... wonder why this part is titled "The Laugh"? Any guesses? Prepare some tissues y'all, this one's gonna hurt ya in the feels

Also this chapter is going to be in first person so like don't get mad that it isnt the same as the rest, it's done deliberately

[Stephanie Harlem]

The bliss of the previous night was short-lived to say the least.

My first time was... indescribable. Indescribable. Indescribable.

That damned word was still on loop in my head as I lounged in the large bathtub as Jerome did his hair in front of the mirror. He was slicking it back slightly, letting a few vibrant strands loose, and after he was finished, he simply left the room, without a word.

Indescribable indeed.

I didn't know how to feel, waking up alone that morning. Sore, obviously, but also hurt. Very hurt. Jerome wasn't in the suite; he had left.

I had spent my morning stiffly walking around; first to spend an eon under the hot spray of the shower head, then to scavenge the messy room for something to eat, and finally to anxiously pace the length of the bedroom, waiting to see if Jerome ever came back.

He did.

At four in the afternoon.

Jerome sauntered back into the hotel room with a little more swagger in his step than before; he had this positively gleeful gleam in his usual bright eyes; his grin was a little more sinister.

He also had specks of blood on his black boots and bruises around his neck.

Yet the ginger said nothing about his disappearance or upbeat mood; he didn't even react when I kept the distance between us vast - Jerome didn't even try to bridge it.

So there I was, sitting in the white porcelain bathtub at five o'clock in the afternoon, waiting patiently for Jerome to finish getting ready.

I fidgeted with my fingernails, prying at the skin around the nail bed nervously as Jerome's excited whistle radiated through the spacious room. Tonight was the charity ball and also the night of the Maniax's grandest moment (as Theo loved to call it): Jerome would be the star of the show, and as for me, I would be backstage, away from the spectacle.

Originally, I had planned to be onstage with my red-headed boy, being the perfect magician's assistant for the scheme. Alas Theo Galavan thought the risk of me being recognized was too great, effectively sidelining me from the act all together. As for Jerome, he didn't say a word at my removal from the show, nor did he even get mad. He merely quickly accepted it, and continued running around the penthouse with his samurai sword.

I clenched my teeth as I lifted my body out of the tub as gingerly as possible, shuffling over to the sink to splash water in my face. I quickly dried my face off with a few pats of a towel and then proceeded to stare at my reflection rather intensely. I squinted harder, poking and prodding at my cheeks and nose, tugging at my eyelids and scrunching up my forehead; weren't girls supposed to get this goddess-like glow after they lost their virginity? Wasn't their skin supposed to magically become clean and clear and under control? Where was my glowing skin, my clear pores, my radiating smile? I let the towel drop to the floor; oh yeah, it was over there underneath the bloodied boot of Jerome's leather-bound feet.

If he didn't want to tell me where he was, then fine. He may have taken my virginity but I am still my own person, I am still a capable human-being without him. I refuse to be one of those girls who is self-reliant on another person.

I stalked out of the bathroom with a fire burning in my belly. I swiftly ripped the bloodied sheets from the night before off the large bed and deposited it on the floor in a heap, completely ignoring the fact that Jerome had been lounging leisurely on the bed. He toppled to the floor and was up on his feet in moments, his boyish facial features set in a snarl.