Thread: ~ Ğяǝÿsɯıʇɥ }} ḋεṿïαи¢ε υиḋεɾ τhε вïģ τøρ {{  ₮ɐℓıи ~

His eyes followed her body as she moved to weakly sit upon the chair, her hand extending to the spoon, attempting to eat what he brought, but unable. Dmitry could feel the alcohol stirring his emotions, talking to him, telling him constant lies. When she failed to eat what he brought he let out a huff, pulling the bowl across the table and eating it himself, laying the bowl inside of the other empty one. When she asked him to return to bed with her, he sat there silently for a moment, his blood boiling in his veins as the alcohol spoke to him. Yes, why dont you Dmitry? Hold her close, but dont fulfill any of your needs. Ever. She does not want you, how could she? Look at her. He looked away from her, but she rose, coming a few steps closer to him, he looked back, seeing the concern in her eyes, watching her nostrils flare as his scent. He felt guilty, and even while the booze told him to take advantage of the situation, to do as he pleased without concern for her pain or suffering, the promise he made the night before stung in his heart, pushing back the cruel voice which continued to hammer on in his head. When she turned her back to him, requesting that he not drink, years of putting the bottle first retaliated in his mind, and he reached behind him, taking the bottle to his lips in direct contradiction to what she asked of him. He laughed, setting the bottle down on the table once again and rising to his feet, quickly closing the distance between them where she stood. His hand caught her hair, pulling her back slightly and wrapping his other arm around her waist, so that her back was pressed against his chest, the warmth of her body against his bringing back the tingle he felt last night, but this time, laced with so much alcohol, his body reacted differently, feeling lust stir in his loins. So You need my help, hmm? His voice was deeper, darker than it was normally, his hand releasing her hair, only to push her dark locks over one of her shoulders, using it to crane her neck to the side. His lips lowered down to where her soft flesh was exposed, but did not make contact, his hot breath merely lacing over her skin I am perfectly capable of protecting you, no matter my state of mind. His voice held that same cloudy timbre, his lips stroking gently over her throat, his hand traced over the warmth of her stomach while he spoke, inching its way upwards, pausing on her ribcage. He was supporting her weight with a single hand, and exerting little energy, speaking of his strength, and, should he have wished it, ability to overpower her. Dmitry paused for a moment, releasing her hair from his steel like grip, transferring his hands to lift her bridal style, so that her face came to greet his. Her deep brown eyes met with his azure orbs, her small face mere inches away from his. Why is it you want me to lay beside you, Pavla? He asked, holding her in his arms, taking a few measured steps so that he stood before the bed, laying her on it gently. But he did not slip beside her, instead pulling his body above hers, resting on his palms, shoulders rotating as he pulled himself closer, like a great panther stalking its prey. Is it so, should your stepfather come back, I can be at your side? Or, so that you can torment me further. Im nothing but a toy to you, am I Pavla? He rested his weight on one arm, his other hand clasping on her face, so she looked him directly in the eyes. I dont take well to torment, girl. He demanded, the smell of alcohol surrounded him, and he could feel his conscience pleading with him, speaking over the powerful effects of the drink. He released her face from his hand, still staring deeply into her eyes, as if trying to determine whether or not the words she spoke yesterday could be trusted. Eventually he pulled himself back, sitting on the bed beside her and releasing her from his icy stare. You have it wrong. It is you whom does not want me. And why would you? Youre. He paused, making a motion to look beside him, but thinking better of it, instead looking to the unstopped bottle on the desk. Youre beautiful, and I am a monster. Thats why your stepfather brought you here. Dont be so naive. He rose from the bed, walking over to the table and leaning a hand on it, the other wrapping around the neck of the bottle and raising it to his lips, drowning the emotions that came with the words which has passed his lips.