Confessions of a Wanton

17 Ice cream and raisins

🎶 I feel like I'm drowning : Two feet 🎶

My stomach is growling. It's what wakes me. I'm so freaking hungry. So thirsty.

I need food.

I feel like a damn raisin. A humiliated grape. Sucked if it's life juices and left to a pruny life void of liquids.

I always wake with a strange sense of humor. Usually it's dark. And I need to exercise to rid myself of the dreams that eat at me in the night. Today... well tonight all I want is to eat and sleep more.

I can tell it's night by the lack of light filtering in. My curtains are drawn. But there's always a little light that shines through the cracks during day. Hence, it's night.

I sit up. Slowly. Groaning. My body feels like it's on fire. My limbs feeling like someone took a baseball bat to them. I stretch trying to get more blood to flow into them.

I rub my neck. The bite marks are still there. I press down on it. Trying to feel comfort. I don't know why it's making me sad right now. I press harder. Feeling a little lighter in my chest as I do so.

I'm missing something. It makes my heart ache. I don't know what... or who it is.

I throw my legs off the couch. Sinking my toes into the plush carpet. Relishing the feel. It's my second favorite thing to wake up to.

Hm?

What's the first?

I groan. I'm losing my damn mind.

But first. Food.

I pad into the kitchen. Replaying the mornings events in my head as I flip on the light. Nearly Jumping out of my skin when I see Killian sitting on my counter. He's eating ice cream.

He's a wet dream in clothes tonight. Wearing all white. His perfectly cut dark hair looks like he's been running his hands through it. His shirt bunched up against his muscles, showing them to their full potential. His pants, part of a suit, not hiding the bulge tenting the seam. The white of the fabric making his skin look more dark. More dangerous. I shiver. But it's not with desire.

Why am I suddenly scared?

"What the fuck Kill?" I hit his arm slightly. As I have every time he's ever scared me. He's such a weirdo. Sitting in the dark. He likes to eat sweets while I sleep. If he's here.

Sometimes, if I'm having a nightmare he'll wake me. Fuck me senseless until I've forgotten whatever I was dreaming about. Then lay me back down to sleep.

Sometimes. He's not here often.

I wonder what the occasion is.

The touch felt weird. Off. I don't remember ever feeling this way when I touch him. Then I remembers I'm getting sick. I pull away from him.

He's smirking. Mirth dancing in his eyes.

"I'm sick." I clarify. Opening the freezer to grab out a soup. I usually save it for the day of my period. Yes, you heard right.

Day. I only have one day a month that I bleed. I don't tell people that. I know I'm weird. Medically there's nothing wrong with me. I went to the doctor to figure out my issues and got a clean bill of health. But bitches in high school had been cruel about it. Fuck em. I'm eating the damn soup.

I toss it in the microwave. Setting the timer and grabbing my hydro flask. I empty the contents down my throat. Needing more when it's empty. I refill it.

"You're not sick." His silver eyes are watching me. Taking my measure. I have the urge to take the spoon out of his hands and throw it at him. Maybe even slap his face. I don't know where these feeling are coming from. I'm suddenly so angry at him.

He scoops out ice cream and plunges it into his mouth. In the way that used to make me wet. His tongue licks the spoon clean, and all I'm feeling is hunger. For food.

I frown. He notices.

"You're not sick, you're changing." He flicked his tongue over the curve of the spoon, ice cream melting on his tongue.

Ah there it is. Desire.

But I look up into his silver eyes and it's gone. Why had I been expecting a different color? Killian's never worn contacts.

Fucking weird. I'm so over the strangeness of the situation. One second I want to tear his head off, the next fuck him like there's no tomorrow, but when I look at his eyes all desire seems to leave. It's a fucking loop of emotion and I don't get it. I'm fucking sick. I know it.

"Changing?" I ask as the microwave beeps. I open the door. Allowing the steam to escape.

Escape.

That wasn't my inner voice. It was male. I recognize it. But... I don't.

What the fuuuuuuck?

I put down the bottle as I turn, snatching the spoon out of Killian's hand, plunging it into my soup. I only have the one spoon. He can use a damn fork for his ice cream.

I smirk at him. This is an old game that we play. It usually ends with him licking whatever he's been eating off my body and multiple orgasms.

I snatch what ever is in his hands, he snatches me. Then eats my snatch.

I wink.

His silver eyes darken. Knowing the game. A smile of anticipation crosses his face. A hidden mirth behind his eyes. Condescending. I'm used to it.

Fuck Char, Escape!

There's that voice again. I'm puzzled. What the fuck is going on? Escape from Killian? Why?

"Changing?" I query again. Shaking the voice from my head. Shoving emotions down that I don't understand.

He just looked at me. The one that says he's not going to tell me anything. I'll have to figure it out for myself.

All right you bastard. I will.

Whatever this change is I'll adapt. It's what I do.

I start to eat the soup. Forgetting to blow on it, I burn my mouth.

"Fuck!"

Killian is handing me the water bottle before I even put the spoon down. He hadn't been there a second before... he'd been on the counter right? I feel like I'm losing time. I reach for it. Allowing the cold water to spill into my mouth. Soothing the burn. I mutter my thanks. Bewildered at the situation.

He's smirking again. Laughing at me on the inside. I narrowed my eyes, flipping him off. He laughed. It sounded wrong coming out of him. It sounds cold.

But that's how his laugh has always sounded.

I pour a little cold water into the soup. I don't care that the taste will be different. I just need the sustenance. I finish my soup, drinking the last down as Killian watches. Amused. He looks like he could devour me whole. An emotion I can't place tinting his next words;

"Want to play a game Char?"

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