streetwalkers | YAN-PARA au master post

It is easy! You just pack up and go. If things would be better like that, then I don't see the problem

Just like how easily you packed up and left me? Were things "better like that"? Were you happy?

Well yeah, but it wasn't because you were gone. I already told you that.

If you can say that, you'll never get it. You don't really care about anything. You just do whatever suits you, because you're shallow and stupid. I'm broken and I can still see that.

I cared about you! I still do!

[He's trembling, partially because the bleeding hasn't stopped quite as much as he'd have like it to, partially because the angeris almost too much to bear]

It wasn't like it was easy leaving you behind! But I wasn't going to sit around at home and do nothing just to make sure you were by my side all the time. Neither of us would have wanted that.

Why couldn't you have done something there?! Your life is risky and shady. I just wanted you to be safe, and-- I didn't care if it was hard. I just wanted to be with you, and you never ever heard that!

[The urge to lash out again is rising, and it's visible even before he moves. there's a tension, a shift to a stance he could burst into action from at any second.]

I don't know! I don't remember! It was probably stupid, but that doesn't matter now since I can't fix that.

[Instinctively he reaches for the knife at his side]

But I'm trying to fix that now. If you'd just stop being scared and listen, we could still be together.

[It doesn't even register as anything romantic -- all Cu realizes is that having Diarmuid with him is right, is better, even now when everything feels so messed up]

I can't stop being scared!

[Of course not. His whole existence is made out of fear. That's like asking him to turn off almost every bit of his consciousness. The very idea makes it flare up more, and suddenly he's smiling that unstable smile, darting forward in a mostly unthinking attempt to get his hands around Cu's throat.]

If you saw what I saw you'd see. The walls are bleeding. There's a siren screaming. You smell like wet dog and rot and every time I see you there's paint splatters in my eyes-- it hurts.

[He wants to tell Diarmuid that he just wants to stop the hurt in the only way he knows how, but suddenly there are hands closing in around his throat, and in a startled attempt to defend himself he grabs that knife and sinks it into Diarmuid's forearm]

[He flinches, hisses in pain, but that little bit only makes him smile wider and his hands tighten. It hurts, but physical pain is practically pleasure compared to the mental pain.]

...See? It's not so hard to hurt me back.

[Cu gags, feels his vision begin to swim, and grabs a hold of that knife again, twisting it as best he can. He doesn't want to hurt Diarmuid, at lest not badly, but in his panic he can't think of any other way to keep himself from getting choked]

[He winces, but even as the pain really hits his face his smile stays wide and unhinged. He finally lets go of Cu's throat, grabbing at his hand on the knife, but instead of pulling it out he holds it in place, leaning even further into the blade. Blood runs over both their hands, but the sharp intake of breath as the blade scrapes bone is as erotic as it is agonized.]

Ah... that's better.

I just needed you to quit with the choking, you didn't need to--

[THIS. IS. WEIRD.]

I've done such horrible things, Cu. I keep doing them. Hate and love are all mixed up, so pain and pleasure...

[He leans even harder into the knife, and gasps again. His voice drops to a languid murmur, and his eyes go half-lidded as his body relaxes.]

Mm. The same. I can't be fixed or forgiven. You didn't think about me when you left, but even if this is your fault I should still be punished for living. This is good... Do it again.

[His first instinct is to shout, but he knows where that got him last time - he'd rather not do anything else that ends in them bleeding even more than they collectively are, so for the moment he tries to take a step back]

...nah, I'm okay.

[He's not sure what to do with that. His Master would gladly kick him and cut him open. His Mistress would reinforce his self-hating beliefs and encourage him to punish himself, then remind him that only she will love him. Anyone else runs screaming or tries to kill him.

Cu's dismissal is confusing. It's so very confusing that he can't even get angry about it. He looks at Cu with a startled, bewildered expression, and meanwhile digs his fingers into his own wound.]

...Why?

Edited 2012-11-24 10:32 (UTC)

I don't want to stab you! It's messed up and I've already hurt you enough. I'd rather not anymore.

[He grumps a bit, like a reluctant dog]

Why not...? I don't understand.

[In lieu of Cu further injuring him, he's doing plenty to widen his wound on his own. He's bleeding quite a bit now, but doesn't seem to be paying any attention to it. Instead he's just looking hurt and lost, and dropping his gaze to the floor as if ashamed.]

Because I care about you!

[He slowly, carefully grabs Diarmuid's wrist, trying to pull his fingers from the stab wound]

So quit it, okay?

[He lets his hand be pulled away with only the slightest of resistance. If he was all manic insanity a minute ago, he's nothing but subdued sadness now. He hasn't been "cared about" since his father died. "Loved" by his Mistress, yes, but even as he is he knows that isn't the same thing. His eyes are welling up with tears again, but instead of hysterical they're simply, quietly heartsore.]

Why are you doing this to me?

Eh--

[What?]

Dunno. I said I cared about you, right? Don't see what other reason I need.

[One by one he tries to uncurl Diarmuid's fingers]

You got a handkerchief or something?

No.

[He's almost limp in Cu's hands at this point. Like a posable doll, he holds dead still until Cu moves him, and then adjusts as prompted. He's not sure how to handle the situation, so he's just freezing and letting someone else lead.]

...My heart hurts.

...we'll make do, then.

[He lets go of Diarmuid, but only for a moment to pull the cloth from his own wound and rip it where it looks cleanest. The bloodied half is firmly knotted back around his thigh, and he goes about doing the same for Diarmuid's arm]

[That's allowed with the same pliant calm as the rest of it. He's afraid to move, in case the spell of the moment wears off.]

I shouldn't let you in, you know.

Because of--

[No Cu, it's probably a bad idea to call her "that bitch" now that Diarmuid's finally calmed down]

Of your boss and shit?

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