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batsutousaiTitle: Don't Step in the Blood
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai
Warnings: adultery, femslash/yuri, suicide
Summary: 'Am I not enough for you? You have to go frolicking around with women now?'
Don't Step in the Blood
The dark shadows creep at the corners of the room like spiders inching along their web, heading for that just-trapped fly. The only light in the room throws a yellow tinge on everything, turning her skin a pale gold and the pooling blood orange. The knife grasped loosely in her right hand glints malevolently, and you're not sure who to blame.
***
An hour ago, you caught her with another. They were laying together on the bed you'd lain on that first night, ringed fingers entwined with matching bands. You'd caught them in the act, their climaxes just over that bend, and you'd ripped them apart. How dare you? you'd yelled, not sure who you were yelling at.
She had not been sorry, only shrugging without care. Her lover hid behind her, not daring to face you. You were glad she, at least, was afraid of you. Your wife could have cared less, shrugging your anger off her like the shawl you bought for her on your first anniversary, three years ago. It had been a pale blue, like her eyes, which had always been filled with love. But now, they were filled with ice, and a part of you wondered when you moved north, because between her eyes and her manner, you thought her a glacier, instead of a woman.
You broke the silence, unable to bare it any longer: Am I not enough for you? You have to go frolicking around with women now? You're a freak of nature! The both of you!
Her eyes were all the harder for your anger-filled words. You dare call me such, when you spend your evenings with that floozy and her girlfriend? Is it only right if you get to watch? Or do you prefer to join in?
You stare at her with wide eyes, appalled. What–? Are you saying I screw around with my own sister? That's–
Perfectly legal, and so like you, she comments. I suppose it's frowning upon to do your step-sister, but there are no laws against it. You should know.
You can't believe she'd think so low of you. No, perhaps doing it with your step siblings isn't illegal, but your sister and you have been together your whole lives. As far as you're concerned, she's flesh and blood. You– You shake your head, unable to find the words. Grasping for words, you spit out the first full sentence which passes through your mind, I want her gone and I'm filling for a divorce, then you turn your back and leave the room.
Behind you, the other woman starts to cry. You head for the door, unwilling to stay in the once-cozy little flat you'd paid for with starting salary. You could afford better, but neither of you wanted to move. The small apartment was enough.
Your wife runs ahead, naked, and stands against the door. You see desperation glinting beneath the ice as she calmly says, If you leave, I'll kill myself.
So kill yourself, you reply, trying not to care. Trying not to feel your heart as it's torn in two. Now, if you'd please move?
The hell I'll move! You're not going anywhere! she spits in your face, close enough you can feel her breasts rubbing against your shirt.
You grab her shoulder and shove her to the side, uncaring as she stumbles and hits the wall hard. You pull the door open and step out onto the landing, ignoring the stare of the old lady down the way, who's poked her head out to watch the drama, and the perverted man next door, who gets so many porn magazines they sometimes have to be stuffed under his door because there's not enough room in his box.
The pervert gets quite the view as you head for the stairs, because your wife steps out after you. Down the way, the old lady lets out a startled 'eep' and ducks back into her apartment. Get back in here! she yells, running after you. The other girl stands dressed in the doorway, tear-tracks marring her red face.
The pervert touches himself and a part of you wonders if he'll start jerking off there in the hallway. You wouldn't put it past him.
You ignore her cries and continue out of the apartments, driving off to the park to think. You can't think with her there, with the smell of her sin all over the apartment.
***
When you get home, she's laying in the kitchen, blood pooling from her throat. Next door, you hear the pervert getting it on with the other girl. You wonder who broke her.
You wonder why you don't care, as you call 9-1-1 and report her death, being ever so careful to not step in the blood.
Author:
batsutousaiWarnings: adultery, femslash/yuri, suicide
Summary: 'Am I not enough for you? You have to go frolicking around with women now?'
The dark shadows creep at the corners of the room like spiders inching along their web, heading for that just-trapped fly. The only light in the room throws a yellow tinge on everything, turning her skin a pale gold and the pooling blood orange. The knife grasped loosely in her right hand glints malevolently, and you're not sure who to blame.
An hour ago, you caught her with another. They were laying together on the bed you'd lain on that first night, ringed fingers entwined with matching bands. You'd caught them in the act, their climaxes just over that bend, and you'd ripped them apart. How dare you? you'd yelled, not sure who you were yelling at.
She had not been sorry, only shrugging without care. Her lover hid behind her, not daring to face you. You were glad she, at least, was afraid of you. Your wife could have cared less, shrugging your anger off her like the shawl you bought for her on your first anniversary, three years ago. It had been a pale blue, like her eyes, which had always been filled with love. But now, they were filled with ice, and a part of you wondered when you moved north, because between her eyes and her manner, you thought her a glacier, instead of a woman.
You broke the silence, unable to bare it any longer: Am I not enough for you? You have to go frolicking around with women now? You're a freak of nature! The both of you!
Her eyes were all the harder for your anger-filled words. You dare call me such, when you spend your evenings with that floozy and her girlfriend? Is it only right if you get to watch? Or do you prefer to join in?
You stare at her with wide eyes, appalled. What–? Are you saying I screw around with my own sister? That's–
Perfectly legal, and so like you, she comments. I suppose it's frowning upon to do your step-sister, but there are no laws against it. You should know.
You can't believe she'd think so low of you. No, perhaps doing it with your step siblings isn't illegal, but your sister and you have been together your whole lives. As far as you're concerned, she's flesh and blood. You– You shake your head, unable to find the words. Grasping for words, you spit out the first full sentence which passes through your mind, I want her gone and I'm filling for a divorce, then you turn your back and leave the room.
Behind you, the other woman starts to cry. You head for the door, unwilling to stay in the once-cozy little flat you'd paid for with starting salary. You could afford better, but neither of you wanted to move. The small apartment was enough.
Your wife runs ahead, naked, and stands against the door. You see desperation glinting beneath the ice as she calmly says, If you leave, I'll kill myself.
So kill yourself, you reply, trying not to care. Trying not to feel your heart as it's torn in two. Now, if you'd please move?
The hell I'll move! You're not going anywhere! she spits in your face, close enough you can feel her breasts rubbing against your shirt.
You grab her shoulder and shove her to the side, uncaring as she stumbles and hits the wall hard. You pull the door open and step out onto the landing, ignoring the stare of the old lady down the way, who's poked her head out to watch the drama, and the perverted man next door, who gets so many porn magazines they sometimes have to be stuffed under his door because there's not enough room in his box.
The pervert gets quite the view as you head for the stairs, because your wife steps out after you. Down the way, the old lady lets out a startled 'eep' and ducks back into her apartment. Get back in here! she yells, running after you. The other girl stands dressed in the doorway, tear-tracks marring her red face.
The pervert touches himself and a part of you wonders if he'll start jerking off there in the hallway. You wouldn't put it past him.
You ignore her cries and continue out of the apartments, driving off to the park to think. You can't think with her there, with the smell of her sin all over the apartment.
When you get home, she's laying in the kitchen, blood pooling from her throat. Next door, you hear the pervert getting it on with the other girl. You wonder who broke her.
You wonder why you don't care, as you call 9-1-1 and report her death, being ever so careful to not step in the blood.
