When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Ninety-Two - Love Song Fuse

NINETY-TWO

Love Song Fuse

“You’re so lucky that you have your very own personal soundtrack, that it’s all original and just for you, and that all the images are all yours too, to every beat, for every beat. The music, the words, everything in the video, just all yours,” Soft Curls, who is now so very close to Catherine since her weekend sir, with her in tow, managed to make his way towards Tristan, longingly comments, but without taking anything away from her own master, however, who is just plainly not musical. “You’re so lucky that your master writes you love songs. Cherry on top. So many of Incognito’s songs make sense to me now, after seeing Tristan with you, and of course, since I now feel the way that I do, for the first time ever in my life, for real and not just in my imagination, not just making it up. It’s just . . . beyond-words-wonderful,” she concludes, smiling.

The taste of apricots once more creeps up on Catherine, and nausea instantly follows. “Have you all become stupid? Der?” She then cannot help but comment, managing to stop herself from attacking the romantic personally, but unable, however, not to attack the insanity. “Please snap out of it,” she pleads, despite being aware that she should not be speaking at all, that she is once again over the line.

“Snap out of what? I’ve never been so happy in my life,” Soft Curls returns, wide-eyed. “And I see that same happiness in other women here, and in your eyes too, such happiness that  . . . ”

Catherine’s blood boils, and she slaps the young romantic. She is instantly deeply sorry for having done so, and looks down at her assault-hand as if it does not belong to her. As Soft Curls rubs her cheek with a confused look upon her face, Catherine, however, soon no longer thinks of her, and registers instead how tightly her chest feels, after being crushed by yet another push of the envelope, by yet more behaviour that promises her no end that can end well.

So, you’re seeking to rekindle your profound fear of dying, are you? Healer sends her way.

The room spins for Catherine. Rekindle? I never stopped being afraid! Why isn’t he saying something, doing anything? Can you hear those notches being carved into my punishment column? “Even” is the slipperiest that it’s ever been for me. I’m heading right down that snowy slope into . . .

Maybe it’s too close to the grand finale for him to be . . . healer interrupts.   

One pill, just one tablet, and I know that I’d feel better, Catherine interrupts in turn, so then, all of this is his fault, really. He’s setting me up to do stupid things so he can have a reason, an excuse for that “accident,” she once more considers.

You’ve angered him so much that I doubt that it’d be anything like an “accident” now, if he . . .

So then, you agree that I should just continue to make my stand, before I die. Why stop now? Not that I want to die. Those shadows . . . I felt something, before my friends were killed, last year, before it started happening. I felt . . . Well, I met Tristan, and then I . . .

The longer that you don’t look into his eyes, the worse it’ll be, healer once more interrupts. So just stop this.

Once Catherine has raised her eyes to her master’s, she sees within them exactly what she expects to see: brutal-rage, and even if it is once more contained otherwise, her body nevertheless responds to it in full. As Tristan now finishes processing his female’s behaviour and turns to giving thought to the man whose plaything was attacked, Catherine tells herself that it was fortunate that Soft Curls’ face was not designed yet, which means that at least no harm was done that way.