Purified || Austin Carlile // AU

Purified || Two

I hated him. I really did. In fact, I despised him with my entire being because he was some crazy Sociopath that made me question things far more than I already did.

But, then again, he made me feel pretty. Not quite pretty, actually; adequate seemed a lot more fitting. I still felt as if I was a mediocre face, body and mind, but Alan didn't care what I thought when we both had our pants off.

Apparently I am only going about this 'sexual promiscuity' because of my disorder. I'd hardly call it or myself promiscuous seeing as Alan is the only person I have had sexual relations with in the past few months (everyone else was boring me, but Alan seemed to always keep me on my toes).

"You're such a bitch." Alan breathed out heavily whilst we were engaging in said promiscuity in his room that he convenientally had to himself.

At Briarcliff, people who were of age and didn't have to go to the School block were allowed 'Leisure Hours'. We had four hours a day to do whatever we want. Each day the time changed, but we were always notified of the hours on the board in the main area. Males and females had different wings in the block for thirteen to nineteen year olds. Males were in the left wing and females in the right, but during Leisure Hours we were allowed to go into the room of someone who was the opposite sex. I'm suprised that the nurses still let Alan and I go into eachother's rooms considering that they know what we get up to.

"You're a dick." I groaned, gripping his biceps tight, digging my fingernails into his flesh. Alan was older than me. He's nineteen at the moment, but his twentieth birthday is in two weeks, meaning he'll get moved to the adult block. It also means I'll have to find someone new to have sex with.

"You love my dick." He mumbled into my ear, and by the way I could feel his lips move, I knew he was smirking. I frowned and flipped us over so I was on top, which I knew Alan hated because he liked to be in control. I put my hands on his bare chest as we continued to move in sync.

"You're right." I said nonchalantly, making Alan smile widely. "But I still hate you."

°°°°°°

Aaron sighed in disappointment once more, turning back to his easel that held his current Art Therapy piece.

"You told me that you and Alan would stop." He grumbled. "It isn't healthy. Do you guys even use protection?" He whispered when he took a few steps closer to me. I didn't bother looking at him, I kept my eyes on my blank canvas that 'represents the emptiness I feel inside'. Well, that's what I'll tell Devon when she asks.

"Oh yeah, of course." I nodded. "I go up to Constance everyday and ask for a couple." I scoffed and rolled my eyes at my incredibly naïve, virginal best friend. "It doesn't matter, anyway. He's being moved soon." For some unknown reason, a small amount of sadness ran through me.

Constance told me I'd have slight seperation issues when Alan leaves. It's all part of the illness, but I think that as soon as I find a new 'partner', I'll be fine.

I ignored Aaron's quiet rage and observed everyone in the room. Alan was frowming at his canvas, flicking his paintbrush at it every so often. Deanna sat on a stool and carefully moved her pencil over the white surface. Deanna's been here for three months; EDNOS. Lee and Gracie stood close together, admiring eachother's art. Ben, who arrived two weeks ago, had a lot of red on his canvas. It's probably supposed to represent the blood he wants to see dripping down his arm or some shit like that. To my right, stood Daniel. He was tall and thin and kept himself to himself. We spoke once a few months ago about the new anxiety medication. It wasn't a thrilling conversation. His canvas had two vertical, parallel black lines right in the middle. I frowned, confused as to what it could mean.