Original Creator:
@carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich
[Soulmate!Carla x Reader]
[Synopsis]》 Loving him is killing you, can you handle the blood?
[Content]》 Angst, self-hatred, TW! mentions of assault, Stockholm Syndrome
Cursed Love
The soft pitter patters of raindrops falling onto the world fill your ears. It's a long droning sound, but not one you'd like to take for granted. You keep your cheek planted against the cold glass of the window, peering out at the dreary world just beyond your reach. It is..peaceful.
At least, the days it rains tend to be the most peaceful in the Tsukinami household. With Shin busying himself with whatever he does– you couldn't be bothered to figure what, and Carla choosing to spend his time admiring his vast collection of paintings.
Part of you is thankful for it, for the few hours of thoughtfulness before it all comes crashing down as you are forced to remember your place in this world as prey for a bloodthirsty man. But, you can't help but find the need to mock yourself for the ignorance that landed you here.
Ever since you were little, you'd dream about someday living in the same house as your soulmate, getting married to eachother and maybe having kids. You remember spending hours staring at that name, that simple string of characters carved into the skin on your wrist.
At night, is when you were weakest. When you'd let your thoughts run rampant, restless for god knows why, and too tired to pretend to the empty air around you. You remember the kisses you'd press against your wrist, in the hopes that your soulmate could feel your devotion to him. And yet, up until– when was it, six, ten months ago? When love had all but failed you, and hope had left your ever-yearning heart, did fate finally gift you what you had been waiting for your entire life. And by God, do you wish it didn't.
You can remember the look in Carla's eyes, when you had accused him of being the same as them. The same as the vampires who had ripped you apart, their fangs scraping up against every inch of your skin, like trying to find something new– find another undiscovered piece of your body and claim it for themselves like fanatic explorers looking for a thrill.
You never knew what 'eyes filled with venom' had meant until you saw his eyes. Molten pools of gold, with the need to burn you alive. Overtake your every sense until you lost where you begun and he finished.The thing that truly sours the memory of your first meeting with your "One true love", is the tears that escaped from your eyes. The tears you'd been holding back since you had first left your parents, your home, and moved to an entirely different country, just to find out that you'd been sold off to be Vampire food.
They were angry tears, the kind made from the rage you felt for being so weak, for being incapable to change your future. Each tear ran hot against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool sweat that had spread across your body from the fear that wracked through you. You were a mess of emotions, bearing your heart on your sleeve.
......Speaking of tears, it seems your emotions have gotten the better of you, again. Salty rivers stream from your tired, sunken in eyes onto your cheeks, before making contact with the window. The droplets pool together as they fall from your eyes and into a nook just between you and the glass. It's wet. Damp even. Uncomfortable.
Enough to force your cheek away from the cool glass, but your eyes stay fixed upon the dreary world outside. And, despite the emptiness you feel gnawing at your insides, you can feel peace wash over as you watch the rain beat down....
..Perhaps it was too early to call it that, after all, fate has demonstrated to you time and and time again that your so called "peace" was a false notion; real peace comes and goes, never over staying it's welcome. Yet, you still yearn for its warmth.
You really should answer the door, Carla was never one to hold onto his temper once he lost it afterall, but you stay rooted to your spot at the window– paralyzed. Whether it was because of fear, sadness, or some other strange emotion, you couldn't quite tell– you don't quite care either way. In the end it means nothing, you mean nothing.
The door is slammed opened and nearly shatters into splinters upon impact with the wall behind it.
Silence follows short after, though not for long, as Carla is quick to make his way over to you– his heavy footsteps sounding against the hardwood floor, stopping just behind you. You don't know why, but as you watch him in the reflection of the window, you can't help but hold your breath. His face, although partially covered, contorts, revealing the emotion hidden underneath.
He growls something. A command, probably something along the lines of, "Stand up, woman", and under normal circumstances, perhaps you would've listened– but your mind is stuck in a daze, one you can't seem to shake.
Another beat of silence passes between you and him– neither moving, only watching the subtle twitches and breathes of the other. It's broken by Carla once again, his expression unchanged, he takes a step forward and reaches his hand out to grip your face. You can only watch as the unmistakable feeling dread fills your stomach and burns in the back of your throat.
Lifting your chin with his forefinger and thumb, his grip hard enough to leave a bruise, Carla forces your gaze away from the ensaddened world outside, your refuge, and places your eyes directly on him.
Its in this moment that you remember the first time you had heard 'eyes so beautiful you could get lost in them', you had thought it was just a figure of speech– a phrase for the romantics to tell their lovers. But the moment you look into Carla's golden eyes you truly do lose all sense of direction.
The more you look at him the more you feel your weak heart yearning for his. You can't stop it; the urge to pull him closer, feel the coolness of his skin against the warmth of your own, a warm fluttering that pulls in your stomach, leaving you dazed, unable to think about anything but him, heat searing through you like a lightning strike. The more you try to pull away from it the deeper you sink in his trap, bewitched by him– unable to remind yourself of all the hurt and the suffering that Carla has cost you. All you can think about is him.
Oh what a curse it is this love of yours.
