The Tale of Two Singers

IV : tadow - masego

TW : mentions of domestic abuse

After her jarring interaction with Malakai, Aida had gone home and drank until she passed out. She thoroughly regretted that decision when she woke up at two in the afternoon on Sunday, still fully
clothed and on her living room floor. Thankfully, she wasn't needed at Drew's that day, so her late start didn't affect much.

She always dreaded running into him, mainly because she knew it was ultimately unavoidable. He always found her one way or another, whether it be waiting outside her apartment until she opened up, hounding the staff at her restaurant, or going to clubs, bars, and shops he knew she frequented. It was a never-ending nightmare that she couldn't escape from. But it was better than the alternative.

Finally deciding to get up, Aida headed straight to her room for a nice bath. Peeling off the dirty clothes from yesterday, she put them in her laundry hamper before walking into her bathroom. It wasn't the largest, but it was nice enough for her. The same couldn't be said for the Illyrian who had spent a few nights at her house. He had to practically squeeze himself inside of the room to fit, but he never complained to her about it.

Aida knew she was beginning to venture into dangerous territory with the shadowsinger, but she either didn't want to put an end to it, or she simply didn't care enough. It had only been three years, but Aida was still in no rush to get into a relationship again. Her trust in people had been completely snapped.

Malakai really was a sweetheart when they first met at Ophelia's stall all those years ago. He had bought her a flower as he left and asked what he might do to enjoy the pleasure of her company. Aida originally thought he meant sex, but when she insinuated that he threw his head back and laughed. "Just looking at your beautiful face would bring me more than enough happiness." Charming bastard.

She had trusted him with everything. Her family, her friends, her heart, her life. And it had almost gotten her killed. Never again would she ever trust a person so fully or so blindly. She could trust herself, she knew that much. And that was all she needed to know.

Aida didn't notice the blood that had begun to seep into the bathtub as she laid in it. Shaking her head she sat up, some of the water sloshing over the side and onto the floor. Her thighs had puncture marks from her nails, she hadn't even realized she was gripping them. Especially not hard enough to draw blood. Aida stared at the changing color, the water going from clear to a light red.

He had beaten her again. She was too folded onto herself to even remember why this time. It probably had something to do with the fact that dinner hadn't been prepared when he walked through the front door. Or maybe the meat wasn't cooked to his satisfaction? She didn't know, and she didn't care.

She walked into the bathroom of their shared house and filled the tub, knowing he would hate more than anything to crawl into bed with her if she still had blood on her. The second her body touched the water, it turned red. It started off light at first, but the more of her body she put into the water, the darker it got.

Silent tears escaped her eyes, but her face remained perfectly impassive as it always did. She had lost the ability to feel sad about her life a long time ago; she accepted it now. Crying until her lungs were sore and snot was dripping down her nose would do her no good.

There was so much blood that night. The water was so red.

So red.

Aida let out a broken sob as she hurled herself out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor, the memories rushing to the surface. She braced her hands on the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. All she needed to do was suppress the memories until she could think clearly again, then this little episode would have never happened and she could carry on with the rest of her day. Hurriedly wiping the tears from her eyes, Aida situated herself so her back was against the white tub.