"What…what's happening to me?" He barely breathed out that question, the two guards gripping his arms, holding up his upper body. He tried to stand, but a quick twist of large hands against his skin kept him kneeling.
"You are evolving, young Tristan." The Scientist had a calm look on his face, accompanied by that same condescending smile, "Now, just relax, and let's get this on you."
Tristan reared his head back, shaking his head, "FUCK YOU! You are NOT putting that thing on me."
The Scientist paused, pursing his lips as annoyance crossed his features, "Stubborn boy. I am surprised you would choose a feisty one, Madame Dante."
A burning weight knocked Tristan's head forward, his shoulders straining against the pressure on his body.
He could feel her entering the room, the heat becoming unbearable. Despite his stoic confidence, the Scientist was dripping sweat between the folds and wrinkles of his face. The knees of the guards holding Tristan hostage quivered.
Wrath.
Ira.
She stepped forward, the Scientist moving away to give her space, holding the needled collar in his hands. She looked over at him, a slight scowl on her face, "Who I choose is none of your business."
Tristan swallowed heavily, struggling to lift his head in defiance while ignoring the heat that not only kept him bowed but also caressed him, "Ira…stop. I can't do this. I am NOT going to let them put that fucking THING on me!" He jerked his arm, but the guard held firm, twisting it upwards. Tristan's shoulder joint popped, and sparks dazzled his eyes as he felt the strain.
She only gazed down at him, her features softening and her lips parting with a sigh, "I had watched everything." She walked over to the Scientist, her eyes shifting down to the collar, "Nothing about you is kept hidden from me in my home." She gripped the collar, letting one of the needles dig into her skin. She moved away from the Scientist, turning her head sharply, her back to him as if dismissing the Scientist from her sight. She looked at the collar then back at her beloved.
"Tristan, you have no idea how beautiful you are. Even when you curse at me, fight me, spite me, you remain breathtaking." She chuckled, her eyes filling with warmth, "Even when your lips are cut, and your bones are broken, you are so fucking gorgeous."
A tear fell from Tristan's eyes, staring at Ira slack-jawed and heaving, "Ira-Ira, please… I'm scared…" He closed his eyes, panting and then coughing, hard, heaving sobs clawed out of his mouth, "I'm scared of what this is doing to me! So please…stop!"
She knelt down in front of him, focused only on him. The guards, the techs, the patronizing and almost inhuman Scientist faded into the background, into nothingness. Her human arm reached out, gently lifting his chin, "You know…I felt so guilty." Her brow knotted slightly, and she looked down, "This guilt gnaws in my chest. I want to puke from how heavy it sits in my gut. Your pain. Your suffering. Your hunger strike. Your anger. All that added weight to it." She frowned, closing her eyes and shaking her head, deep orange curls coiling and twisting like flames, "I have never felt that way before. I hated it."
Everyone else faded into the distance, replaced with suffocating darkness that made his heart sink.
Deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Ira lifted her head, and she gave him a small smile, a flush along her bronze cheeks. The back of her metal hand, steaming with heat, pressed against his cheek, "Now…now, I don't have to feel guilty anymore!"
"Ira…no…"
Her human hand caressed him, lovingly, "Not only you can heal…but my rage, but my pain…you can also accept it." She pressed closer, her hand clenched into his hair so he couldn't move back, jerking the back of his head downwards sharply. She watched as his eyes fluttered, his lips parted.
Just like the night she gave him roses…
A deep moan rolled from her throat, her lips brushing against those cut, soft lips, "See? You can even feel good from it. You are MEANT to be mine."
Tristan's eyes widened, before they rolled back as those needles dug into the skin of his neck, each one piercing just past his flesh, catching whichever vein was in the way. No words escaped his throat, just a hissing cry as pain mingling with desire rocked his nerves.
Ira's smile widened, locking in the collar with her steel hand, "Perfect. You are just perfect, Tristan."
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