Page 69 of Fragile Twisted Vows
And I believe him. I really do. No matter how fucked up that sounds.
Because look at our dynamic, look at what I’ve allowed.
He’s threatened to kill me and I’ve invited him into my body. He showed me his deepest, twisted desires and I let him in my body. I watched him kill a man and grind him into pieces and I still let him inside of my heart.
I am just as fucked up as he is.
Of course he thought this moment of rough, make up sex would be okay.
After a while, I pull back to look at him. He looks so lost and ashamed, unlike the Damien I’ve known. It’s raw and pure. I realize now I’ve seen more sides to him in the last ten minutes than I have in the last seven years.
“You thought I was him,” he whispers as he wipes the tears from my eyes.
“I don’t know what happened-” I try to say, but he cuts me off
“I do. I showed you the monster that I am,” he says, his eyes to the floor as he speaks.
Oh Damien, you broken, shattered boy. What has made you this way? What has made you so cold, so callous, so filled with guilt and shame that you have to hide behind it?
And why am I the one who breaks down pieces of the wall you’ve built around you?
“I didn’t say anything to her. She cornered me in the bathroom and I left immediately. That’s it. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” I say, knowing that Andy probably confessed about what happened, I don’t blame him. He was probably following orders.
“Jesus Christ, Lucille,” he hisses, backing away from me before he stands and shakes his head. “Don’t fucking apologize to me after what I just…after what I tried to…” he shakes his head violently as more of that disgust and shame spreads over his beautiful, tired features.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this disheveled, this undone.
It’s the most human he’s ever looked.
And it’s beautiful and confusing and fucked up all at once. Just like him.
“Damien, stop-”
“I could’ve hurt you. You thought. I. Was. Him.” he says, his voice a chant almost, his face breaking.
“Damien, don’t do this. You stopped. You listened to the safe word, it’s okay-”
“No it’s not! Fucking none of this is!” He roars as he turns away from me and makes his way to his bedroom.
I don’t know why, but I follow him.
I grab at his arms and he fights me through it.
“Don’t run from me,” I growl, as he tries to flee.
“You’re being a coward! Face me!” I shout at him as he freezes near the bed.
“Face the consequences of your actions. Like a man,” I say, my fists balled at my sides as he turns slowly to face me, his face twisted in despair.
You poor, broken man.
“You’ve fucked up, countless times, but you can’t run from it. You can’t manipulate it any way that you’d like when it feels uncomfortable. When it’s too tough. Too real. That’s what cowards do,” I say and he stares at me, a slight bit of wonder and confusion in his eyes.
I realize then that neither of us have ever had a single form of a healthy relationship. I haven’t with my family, and I can definitely tell he hasn’t with anyone else either.
So I guess it starts now. I guess we start from square one.
“You didn’t need to freak out on me, we could have talked and avoided all of this,” I explain as he goes to sit on his bed, his eyes still on me as I speak.
