Content Warning: A rather dark and graphic chapter. Ira loses it and tries to murder the man she loves through Asphyxiation.
Trigger Warning: Verbal and Emotional Abuse. If you really are afraid of drowning...don't read on.
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Tristan’s heart sank deep into the abyss, his glare vanishing into a wide-eyed stare.
Ira tilted her head sharply to her left, a POP cracking from the sudden stretch of her vertebrae. Her eyes remained on his.
He could see it.
He could see Hell blazing her stare.
The fire that consumed all as she lunged at him.
If it wasn’t for the primal pressure locking him firmly in ‘FREEZE’, he might have used his empowered reflexes to dodge her. If he was against anyone else, he would’ve escaped.
Unfortunately, in the battle of Strength and Will, Ira dominated. Her hands, both human and metal, clamped onto his shoulders and she forced him underneath the surface. His arms flailed, and he kicked wildly against her legs and taught stomach. The tightening grip distorted his vision and nails ripping into his skin, the smell of blood overtaking any other.
He was being shoved under by her black silhouette, the only thing visible through the violent current were her two raging orbs, “If my promises mean shit, then why the FUCK did I bother?!” Her voice thundered through the waves, barely human, “I wasted so much energy on YOU!” She shuddered and chuckled darkly as his hands gripped her arms, digging in and scratching deeply. Black smoke trickled from the already healing wounds.
He clawed and then kicked again, relief flooding him as her grip loosened, his head pushing up out of the water, “Ira-“
Her hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing words out of him. He grabbed at her wrists, his lips gaping as he tried to suck in a breath before she forced him back under.
“You want to die so fucking badly?! Fine! SINK, TRISTAN! SINK AND DIE!”
His eyes rolled back. Air become forbidden luxury as his stinging lungs were being filled with steaming water. Regret and self-righteous conviction filled his foggy mind. She was proving exactly what he wanted her to prove; when pushed just an inch, she would slam him back a mile, giving him one thousand times the amount of the spite and anguish he gave her.
Now he was drowning in this opulent pool, his vision blackening in the edges. The darkness began to crouch inwards, slowly blinding him from the outside in. His lips tingled and his head throbbed; his mind suffocating and pounding against his skull. Her strength and fury proved no match for him, his stomach filling with water as he tried to breathe.
His body slowed in its fight for survival; exhaustion and lack of breath begged him to succumb.
Everything would stop if he just…
Let go.
His fingers loosened from her wrists, slowly fading into the water. His eyelids fluttered, slowly closing. He couldn’t see anything anyway. Not in this darkness.
He could feel his body relax, falling limp in the spa. He would drown in luxury, the smell of lavender and citrus soothing him to an eternal sleep.
It just felt so…
Cold.
He was cold.
This wasn’t the same darkness that burned and seared his nightmares.
This was an apathetic bleakness that left him floating in isolation.
Was this how he would get his freedom?
Dying in a pool, the life choked out of him by water and fury? Fury from the woman who tormented him?
The woman who beat him and violated his very core?
The woman who…
Loved him?
No, she didn’t.
She didn’t know what that was.
Yet…she looked…scared when she left him alone with Eric.
Not just guilty…
Frightened.
Her fear, her guilt, her pride.
Her passion.
It burned.
He was going to miss that…her warmth.
His hand lifted against the weight. It was so tiring to move it, but he wanted to feel it.
That heat.
He ached for just one more touch…even if it hurt.
His fingers broke the surface of the steaming bath.
Soaring up, and up, against the cold, uncaring grip of breath.
To touch the sun.
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