Chapter 187
I step under the shower and turn the handle, letting the water slide
heavily over my skin. I pick up the soap and begin to scrub my body,
every gesture slow, almost ritualistic.
“How did you get those scars?” His voice comes out low, almost
curious.
I stop for a second, just long enough for him to notice, then resume
the movements without looking away from my hand traveling across
my chest.
“As you know, I am not normal.”
He laughs, shortly.
“You don’t say.”
I ignore the sarcasm.
“I’ve always been curious to feel pain in my own body, to experiment
with the limit, to see how much I could take. So, I made those cuts
myself.”
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Silence.
He remains quiet for a few minutes, the sound of the water filling the
space between us. Then he sighs heavily.
“You need to be institutionalized.”
I laugh out loud, without hiding it.
“Believe me, I already was. They tried to ‘cure‘ me, but they couldn’t.
And you know what? I don’t need a cure. This is the real me.”
I turn my face toward him, letting the water run through my hair.
“And soon you will love this side of me.”
He doesn’t answer. He looks away, which earns another soft laugh
from me. I finish the shower with the same calm I started with. I dry
my body, then my hair, and pull on a clean uniform. I hang the towel
on the hook fixed to the wall and walk back to the bed.
Magnus is lying there, turned toward the wall, pretending
indifference.
Cute.
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I lie down beside him and wrap my arms around him from behind,
pressing my body against his. I kiss the back of his neck slowly,
feeling the tension beneath my arms. I pull the sheet up and cover us
both, holding him in a firm, possessive grip.
“You don’t need to hold me that tightly. I’m not going anywhere.”
I ignore the comment, keeping my hold. The sound of his irritated
huff makes me smile against his skin. I close my eyes, breathing in
the natural scent of the body I crave so much–an aroma that hooks
me more than any drug ever could.
The silence of the cell stretches until it’s broken by his voice, low and
tight with tension.
“When are you going to let me out of here?”
I bring my lips closer to his exposed neck and leave a slow, almost
lazy kiss there.
“When you obey me.”
The answer comes out firm but calm.
“Every time you’re a good boy, you’ll be rewarded. But if you insist on
rebellion, you’ll be punished and lose your privileges.”
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My voice brushes his ear as I list each threat gently.
“No good food. No soft mattress. Silk sheets, hot water from my
shower… all of that can disappear. And the worst part: you’ll never
leave this cell. You’ll never see another inmate besides me.”
I feel his body tense under my embrace. I recognize the tremor-
anger, not fear.
I hold him a little tighter.
“Just obey, and you’ll have everything a king could want.”
A short sound escapes him, half a grumble, half a challenge.
“Except freedom.”
I smile against his warm skin, leaving another kiss on his neck.
“Yes. Less freedom. Because you don’t need it. I’m enough.”
Silence wraps around us again, heavy.
“Now rest. Your body needs it. Sleep well, my love.”
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I close my eyes, burying my face in his hair, breathing deeply, taking
in the intoxicating scent of his skin.
I let the warmth and the aroma envelop me completely and, without hurry, fall asleep right there, breathing in what I already consider
mine.
