@affectum
" look at me. "
the first time her quivering eyes had met yours, you had seen an expression you recognized all too well in those striking yellow eyes. seen so often in the eyes of almost every test subject you encountered, bunnies and men alike.
what would it be like to strip a subject of that entirely? would they come to you willingly? an exciting new experiment, of course you couldn't help yourself.
" poor little amélie, " she didn't have the opportunity to offer consent here -- much like many of your favorite experiments. " how are you feeling? " as if you didn't know the answer.
and so, you first crossed fear off her list.
it's been a while since you've had a cigarette to yourself, and hell --- you're needing it these days. you are constantly patching up sombra and akande, all too eager to get themselves into fights. you are constantly monitoring reaper -- a beautiful yet unwilling experiment in the making. and figuring out how to push his buttons in the correct manner has been getting harder these days ---- the pain continuing to edge him into someone you did not know anymore. you did not dislike this new side of him --- he was just more volatile.
progress had a price. your eyes drifted to your right hand, the twisting, blackened veins. you thought of a halo of golden hair in your bed, that you had not seen for many years.
and then she was there, in front of you, freezing fingers pulling the cigarette from your lips and taking a drag. you hadn't heard her approach, but you are observant enough to see the bruised knuckles, discontent in her brow --- interesting. something to note down for later.
her purple lips pursed, and she had asked for more -- you were all too eager to oblige. you were beginning to gather data for your hypothesis, after all.
and so, you crossed anger off her list.
you are sitting, hunched over your own lab table, unexpecting of any company. while you had many a great many test subjects, you had always been the first edition, the first lab rat. all too eager to augment yourself into something that transcended life and death -- all too eager to use your experimental dna-altering solutions on yourself.
you are doing what you consider a tune-up when she walks in. it is an unpleasant, and quite hot process. your shirt has long been unbuttoned, bra and pants abandoned in an effort to give you some form of relief -- you are panting and sweating -- but aware enough to question what the hell she's doing up at this hour.
she has that deer in the headlights look again -- interesting. another hypothesis crawls into your head, one you're eager to test. so you lick your lips, cut a cruel smile her way, let your eyes linger on the curve of her hips and her breast in a most obvious manner -- " how are you feeling? "
your hypothesis is confirmed when she crashes her lips to yours, and you are not one to disappoint. pain has always been an inevitable drive for pleasure -- you are eager to teach her this lesson. you start with your teeth in her thigh, your claws in her hips --- so very eager to treat her for being such a good little pet.
and it is starting to get noticeable, all these little trips to your lab that she's making. if you had a heart, perhaps it would swell with pride, but as is, you are finding this incredibly useful. for some reason --- (you hesitated to say jealousy, but what else could it be?) --- gabriel had also started making more frequent appearances in your office. interesting, and useful. something to note down for later.
it's your lab, you are smoking a cigarette when she makes an appearance this time -- uncaring of it being indoors. her attention is not where you want it, but she will obey, as she has always done for you, your sweet little amélie.
" i said look at me. " her eyes are so serene these days, but you have noticed that sometimes widowmaker is somewhere in her own head. her past? her recent foray with you? plotting her next kill? you are not sure. you are interested to find out though. " how are you feeling? "
i don't.
you grin, you kiss her hard, teeth digging into her lip. you give her a dangerous look.
you press the cigarette to her arm, burning once into her unfeeling skin, and then, your own.
and so, you mark this experiment a success.
