We all mess up. Once in a while, we mess up real bad.
Into the rich tapestry of black, came woven puffs of grey; the cloudy night. A visible mass of vapors had floated high above the ground, curling and twisting upon the chilly atmosphere. It was the type of coldness that reached into my bones, as if my heart were a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again.
"I'm watching. Why haven't you started yet?"
When Marvel asked me, I was still sitting on his bed, unmoving yet anxious. Trimming down the agonizing silence, he resumed our connection.
"Oh, is that it?" He gave out the notion I didn't get at all. "Unfortunately, I'm not so fond of such peculiar objects, but I might have something whose shape is quite similar."
He walked toward another side of his bedroom and pulled the top drawer, taking something out of there.
"I bought this in an auction last year, but I haven't tried it since. You can use it and at the same time do me a favor by checking if it's working," he said, throwing that thing to the bed so I could see it from near. "After all, it's an ancient item."
There lying an antique revolver in front of me he had just thrown, featuring a gold trigger, cylinder, and loading lever, it was also heavily engraved. The ivory stocks, now colored with age, had a wonderful carving on the panels. I stared at it for a while but was unable to comprehend the relation behind it and what he wanted me to do.
"Be careful. Who knows if it's loaded," he warned me about the danger I still didn't know where. "If you make any false movement, not only it could destroy that bastard's sperms inside you, it could also shatter your guts."
Something in Marvel's words served me the taste of pain I hadn't yet experienced but understood already. It was the sort of pain that burned, an invisible flare above my skin. But, Marvel was cold. Too cold he gave me only ice that froze my mind. It took over a portion of my sanity. To deal with its corruption vicious enough, without the ability of new thoughts, I was staggering, staring at him with dread.
He... didn't tell me to do "that"... with this thing, right?
"I'll be patient with you, so you can start any time you want since I'm going to enjoy every bit of it," he exhaled deeply as he continued, preventing himself from seething after seeing me going through denial. "Just remember that patience is the last thing I can do properly."
He took a seat on the couch that was facing the bed where I was sitting, looking straight at me. The wavy smoke drifting in the air was from his newly lit-up cigar, spreading the fragrance of an intricate blend of high-quality tobaccos. He took in enough to fill his mouth and then blew it out delicately, repeating until his cigar started producing thick white fumes.
My cowardice thought Marvel would be the one doing it, even though while being angry, I believed I would be able to handle his rough method, but...
I'm restless and anxious when I'm about to do something big, and so those emotions have become markers for me to find my bravery, to go forwards, to tell myself that I'm worthy of success and that by doing so, I can bring goodness to my family.
I was naive to think that everything would be as easy as I wished it to be.
Knowing that this time Marvel might not tolerate my mistake, I still stupidly hoped for his consideration.
Hearth-like aromas of cedar, fresh ground coffee, cinnamon, and leather emanated from a sweet zest punctuated a luxurious finish. In the duration of the smoke session, Marvel carefully removed the label of his cigar. He left it for a while so that the heat of the cigar would loosen the adhesive, and it would be less likely to damage the cigar's wrap when he took it off.
Making himself busy while waiting, he kept his promise to be patient with me, but I didn't want to get carried away because I didn't know when he would change his mind.
I removed my tie, leaving only my white shirt on, then I began to unbuckle my belt and took my pants off. I tried to be indifferent and just kept in mind that the sooner I started all this, the sooner it would finish as well.
Usually, I would use such an opportunity to arouse Marvel. But, this time, I was left with no confidence to provoke him more than I already did.
I spread my thighs and folded my knees backward, securing my kneeling position above the bed. Even without looking at him, I somehow knew he was already watching me at this point.
I lifted my trembling hand to my mouth and wet some fingers. I tried to rule my shaky breaths while cold sweats kept arising on my skin, even when it wasn't hot. My hand ran across my lower back, reaching my bottom from behind. Even when I had started, Marvel still didn't offer me lubricant or something similar I could use. He knew I needed it and I knew he had it, but he wasn't lenient enough to give me some, and I was miserable for not having enough courage to ask.
"How did you two meet?"
Finally, Marvel created a sound. While watching me, he started the interrogation in a low voice so that he wouldn't distract my focus.
"On the way back from the company..." I replied after swallowing hard as I knew what my fingers would soon do. "He said he had information about something I wanted to know."
Marvel only stared in return, but from his silence, he clearly demanded a detailed explanation.
"That's about... a group of people that supply drugs to the red-light districts," I started touching myself down there and showed him how I did it in the hotel. "If I could find the connection between your underlings and the syndicate which smuggles drugs, I may have a clue who might be the informant."
"Selling your body to a stranger for such rubbish, how ignorant can you be?" He didn't believe me easily, just as I expected.
"I've looked into some of the transactions," I denied, trying to convince him. "I'm going to prove it to you soon."
"I can't see why I should listen to your words," he flat out dismissed to let me down.
"You will trust me someday..." I still had faith in my plans, although to be honest, I could never be certain. "Because I wouldn't have done something like that if it's not for you..."
I tugged backward at the end of my last coaxing, gasping to hold my voice when my fingers were already in. Even though the tip of my shirt covered my bottom, I knew Marvel understood what was going on there.
I grasped the revolver quickly before being eaten up by my fear. Just when I was so close to my resolution, I failed myself as my hand began to shake relentlessly by the weight of the cold metal and what I should do with it.
While I was in the middle of my struggle, Marvel still unemotionally watched me, never taking his eyes off of me, his expression bland. While smoking effortlessly, once or twice he would softly roll his cigar on the ashtray until the grey tip broke off.
The quietness brought my mind to what I was told before. Just as Aakash said, I don't live in the mission forever, so why am I willing to go this far just for this transient, ever-changing life?
Because I would rather be hurt doing this than be caught in the middle, for it means all my sacrifices would go in vain. But, above it all, what I don't want the most is to see my family suffer. Knowing I am their only hope, I will do any thing I can to help them.
No, I will do anything to help them.
"Did you know? It was boring to the point it wasn't even worth keeping my eyes opened."
After almost an hour had passed, Marvel finally spoke, a scornful rejection. He squeezed his half-perished cigar on the ashtray to end his puffing session because he had become sick of it, or it was another reason.
He got up, relaxedly walking toward the bed and I suddenly became someone filled with horror.
"I've taught you how anal penetration works, haven't I? To think that you forget easily," Marvel snatched the revolver from my hand and pulled me to the edge of the bed so he didn't need to get on it. "Turn around."
"S-Sir, please..." Before I could finish my words, I was forced to bend down, but unlike before, I could see the real harm this time.
"This is how you do it."
"Hng!!"
When Marvel thrust the barrel of his revolver into me, the sounds of pleading kept slithering past my mouth. I never, in my entire life, begged and cried like this to someone for something they did to me.
"Did you pretend you were having a hard time? You're so loose you don't even need lubricants to make this whole thing go in."
Marvel maintained a cool mien in the backdrop of my suppressed cry, and the difference in our composure only served to underscore how weak I was.
"How many times did you go to make your ass like this?" He asked, resentful voice.
"Just..." I replied in jitters, wincing in pain. "Just once-"
"Stop lying," he snarled, squeezing the revolver deeper and I could feel the muzzle prickling. As I jerked frantically by the stimulation, a grin was formed on his face. "You like it this way, don't you? Intense and rough... Did that fucker know what you like?"
I shook my head as I was unable to pronounce a word to reply.
"I bet the sex didn't feel that great, then?" He concluded, feeling smug after confirming his knowledge about my body. "Keep your hips steady or I'll pull the trigger."
He kept hailing me with tortures I had never imagined could happen to a person, and for a brief moment, the desperate part of me would rather choose him to stop with the threat and just pull the trigger.
My shutting vision grew numb as I endured my tears not to spill out, but couldn't. Without realizing it, my tightly gripping fists had left nail marks in my palms.
"You're turned on by this?" Marvel sneered while still pushing the revolver in and out methodically it wouldn't be a surprise if it tore my entrance. "Pathetic."
"Ng- Mmph!!" I jolted harshly in a stifled cry, trembling uncontrollably as I was gritting my teeth against the blanket.
Knowing the suspense had abated, Marvel sighed and pulled the revolver out of me as my limp body dropped to the bed. My messy heartbeat, my unruled breath, and my suppressed sniffle temporarily filled the air.
"What did you learn?" Marvel asked me from behind after giving me a generous amount of time to calm myself for my reasoning.
"I... I won't do what I did today ever again..." I stammered along with my trembling body, reluctant to face him after all that.
"And?" Despite my state of mind, he demanded more.
"I won't lie to you again..."
The silence hung in between us, thick and heavy, separating our connection. I felt I had lost some fractions of my sense that I couldn't properly process my thoughts before turning them into words.
Marvel pulled my shoulder and flipped my body to face him. I immediately felt the pressure beside my head where he placed his hand above the bed, expanding to make a narrow space between our joining gazes. He looked into the hazel marbles that were damp and moist with his reflection on them.
"This is your first and last warning, Asta. Unless you want to know what I'm capable of, don't try my patience," he talked in a low voice while caressing my wet cheek with his cold hand, his thumb stroking my quivering lips. "Do you understand to whom you belong?"
Defining his nature, I could hear all those egocentric words echoing inside my head. The irony was, I kept recalling everything at the very same moment.
I clamped my mouth shut. I got a feeling what I was about to say would greatly offend me.
"Y-yours..." I answered nervously, my wavering gaze reciprocated the steel-blue orbs. "I belong to you, Sir..."
Marvel had cornered the side of my brain that existed only if it was triggered by fear. He scared me with so many things to make me easy to control, yet that also brought aggression; the readiness for me to provoke him.
I hated myself who feared him. The fact that I obeyed his words drove me crazy because it opposed my sanity.
But, it was the role I had picked, the character I had created to face him in this vicious circle. It didn't necessarily have to be the same with my personality, for I should blend them as if they were no more than two different pigments.
"You must be tired," Marvel said in the end, his facial expression was still as plain as before. "Now, you can sleep."
Along with his hand parting from my cheek, the coldness in it also retired from my skin. He walked away without notice. My sight followed his figure as I was lying down, seeing his back disappear by the door, leaving me alone in his bedroom.