�You need to sleep,� says Delsus softly. He�s sitting on the side of his bed, torso turned so he can look down at me, one hand slowly threading through my still-damp hair. I�m curled up beneath the bed sheets in a borrowed long shirt and pair of boxers, shivering uncontrollably and sobbing into the pillow.
�I c-can�t,� I mutter.
�Staying up like this will only hurt you more,� he says, tone soothing. �You�ll just dwell on it and stress yourself out even more.�
�I don�t w-want to dream. . .�
�You�re so exhausted, you probably won�t,� he insists. �Just try and sleep, Dakumi. I�ll be right outside in the other room on the couch if you need anything.�
�Dells--�
�You need to sleep,� Delsus repeats. �I know it�ll be hard, but you need to sleep.� A soft whimper rises in my throat as he stands to leave, and I reach a hand out and grab him gently around the wrist. He smiles softly, thumb brushing away the wetness on my cheeks.
�You�re strong, Dakumi, I know you are.�
Not strong enough to stop fucking crying, I think bitterly, my arm falling to the bed as Delsus pulls away. I watch him leave and close the door quietly behind him, and then roll over on my side, sniffling. Sleep. I can sleep... Just think about sleeping, about falling into blackness and waking up in the morning...
I shut my eyes tightly, forehead muscles straining as I fight to keep a grip on the pure blackness behind my eyelids. Sleep, just think about sleep.
Instantly Ishiro�s smirking face swims up to leer at me; I let out yet another weak sob and push my face into the pillow hard enough to cause an explosion of colors to swirl around in my vision. Ishiro�s face is lost in the kaleidoscope and I keep my face pressed into the soft pillow, watching the gyrating fireworks.
When I lift my head groggily from the pillow, my eyes throbbing from the released pressure, the first thing I notice is the glowing red digits of Delsus�s alarm clock--2:30, they read, proclaiming I had managed to slip into dream-free darkness for about an hour. I rub my cheeks on the sleeves of the shirt and curl back up on my side, pulling the bed sheets more tightly around me in preparation for another attempt at sleep.
My heart skips into a jog as I hear the bedroom door creak open softly, and I look up, twisting my neck uncomfortably to look over my shoulder. �Dells?�
The dark figure in the doorway doesn�t speak, but merely steps into the room and shuts the door behind him, throwing the space back into utter darkness. A sharp, cold chill laces through my veins as I hear the click of a lock, and then soft footsteps padding closer until they stop at the side of the bed.
�Dells�?� I ask softly again, voice shaking slightly. �Dells, what are you--�
�Delsus is dead,� Ishiro�s voice whispers in my ear. A strangled shout pushes its way from my throat, and I throw myself up into a sitting position only to be forced roughly onto my back as Ishiro straddles me, pinning my wrists above my head.
�No!� I thrash around desperately, trying to tug my arms down from Ishiro�s grasp and buck him off at the same time. �Delsus--!�
�He can�t save you anymore, Daku-chan,� says Ishiro tauntingly, and I can see the sarcastic sneer on his face even through the blackness. �No one can.�
�No,� I moan again, pushing up against him. �Leave me alone--�
�Poor, poor Daku-chan,� says Ishiro softly, and I feel him pushing the hem of Delsus�s shirt up slowly, his palm brushing against the quivering muscles of my stomach. I writhe beneath the mockingly gentle caress, but my struggles only help him to bare centimeter after centimeter of skin to the frigid air.
�Stop it, stop it--�
�Hush,� he says, pushing the shirt above my head and tangling it around my wrists. Both hands travel down my arms, fingertips skidding lightly across the goose-bumped flesh to dance over my chest. A soft whimper leaves my mouth as I arc my back upward slightly, and Ishiro lets out a soft laugh. �My obedient little Daku-chan. There�s no need to be quiet; go ahead and scream for me.�
He rakes his fingernails from my chest to my abdomen, leaning forward and brushing his lips softly over my collar bone. I shudder and repress the groan building in my throat, jerking my body to the side.
Ishiro�s balance wavers for only a second, not near enough for me to muster enough momentum to throw myself in the other direction and throw him off. He steadies himself and grabs me by the jaw, his thumb and last two fingers digging into my jaw muscles and forcing my mouth open enough for the first two digits to slip in between my lips. I gag at the sudden invasion and pull my arms down to push him away; but Ishiro grabs the shirt with his free hand, re-pinning my wrists above my head. �Trying to fight me, Daku-chan? You think you would have learned from the first time.�
His fingers push slowly back and forth on my tongue, manipulating my mouth into producing saliva to coat them. I growl weakly, shoulders straining against Ishiro�s vice-like grip around my wrists. Ishiro shifts, leaning his weight forward as he pushes a knee between my thighs. A muffled shout of protest leaves me instantly and I struggle to push myself further up the bed away from him; but he holds me firmly in place, adjusting so that both of his legs now separate my own. Suddenly I become aware of just how thin a protection a pair of boxer shorts are and double my efforts to be free, digging my heels into the mattress.
Not in Dells� bed, not in Dells� bed--
�You�re pathetic,� laughs Ishiro, pushing against me enough to cause a moan to slip out. �Absolutely pathetic, Daku-chan. Leave your arms where they are.�
And he releases his hold around the shirt twisting around my wrists, trailing that hand down my back. He leans forward as his forearm pushes up on the small of my back, lifting me slightly off the mattress. At the same time, he pulls his other hand away from my throbbing, sore jaw, fingers dripping in my saliva.
�No!� I shove up against him and twist to the side, finally managing to wrench a hand from the binding shirt. The second soon follows, and I land a stinging backhand to Ishiro�s face. �Get the fuck off me!�
Before he has time to respond, I punch him again, this time sending him toppling off the side of the bed. I scramble off after him, grabbing some part of his shirt and pulling him to his feet before drawing another fist back and hitting him for a third time.
�I�m sick of this!� I yell, shoving Ishiro back into a wall and digging my knuckles into his stomach. He doubles over with a groan of pain, and I bring my knee up with relative force into his jaw, his head snapping backwards. �I�m fucking through being your toy!�
Again and again I drive my fists into his jaw, his stomach, any part of him I can reach, pummeling him into the wall I propped him up against. I vaguely wonder why he doesn�t fight back or make some snide-ass comment, but the thought soon boils away in the heat of my rage.
�I should have killed you long ago,� I hiss, pulling my fist back with every intention of driving it through his chest; and suddenly the light flickers on. I blink in the brilliant luminance, my eyes tearing as I squint in an attempt to refocus on Ishiro.
But as I adjust to the glaring yellow light, I see Delsus slouched against the wall with his hand on the light switch, jaw bruised darkly, blood dripping down his face, holding his stomach with his free arm. No Ishiro.
�The hell--?�
