Stats: Written: 5/8/18; Prompt: The Modern Typewriter; Time: 30 min. max – N/A

Prompt: “You want me to hurt you, is that it? Tell you that you’re a failure? Punish you?”

“I would deserve it if you did.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I – no.” They didn’t think they could bear that, but they were equally unsure they could bear being forgiven. “I don’t know.”

“Were you disloyal to me?”

“I failed you.”

“Were you disloyal to me?”

"No – I would never – I’d rather –“ the lackey shuddered. The villain's hand smoothed over their bruised temple.

“Then there is nothing to forgive, and no punishment necessary. You did your best. That is all anyone can ask of you. Now, be calm, and tell me what happened.”

Bruised and bleeding, the boy stood before him, the pain of doing so written clearly on his face.

“Take a seat.” He followed the command without hesitation.

Clearly, he would be quiet docile tonight. Better to get everything out quickly.

It had been a good six years since he picked up the scrawny kid from the alleyway. Their relationship had been complicated, swinging from one mood to the next. One week, he swore the kid looked up to him as a father-figure, then the next, the kid acted as if he had been dragged from his alleyway home and thrown into a life he never wanted. The kid had not been lied to. Everything had been laid neatly on the table for him to closely inspect and decide if he wanted to walk away or not.

“You want me to hurt you? Punish you? Call you a failure?” This could go one of two ways.

“I would deserve it…”

Sticking with docile…

He could work with this.

“Not what I asked.”

“No…” His fuck up was something to be punished – even if he didn’t want that – but his actions (or lack of action) shouldn’t be swept under the rug. “I don’t know. Really.”

“Were you disloyal?”

“I failed.” Docile and pity party were two vastly different things and he would not stand for the latter.

Slamming his hands on his desk, he leaned forward with clenched teeth, “were you disloyal to me?”

“No. Never. I swore-“ The kid appeared as if he was hanging off the cliff of a mental breakdown.

Calmly, he stretched out to cup the young teen’s face in his hand. At any moment, his mood could shift.

Keep him calm.

“Then there is nothing to forgive. No punishment is necessary. You did your damnest and that’s all I can ask of you. Now, tell me exactly what happened.”