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Nagisa lay curled up on his side, eyes shut tight. He kept his heart rate even, his breath soft. He knew he looked calm, peaceful.
His mother stood in the doorway, waiting. He heard fabric rustling in her hands. Every single part of him burned under her gaze.
𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺.
He felt sweat start to form on his forehead.
Why wasn’t she leaving? Why was she still standing there? He forced himself not to shake. What was she waiting for? What would she do?
Slowly, ever so slowly she came closer. Stroked his hair.
She leaned so close her breath brushed across his face.
“I know you’re awake.”
He didn’t move, he didn’t dare. Tears pricked against his eyelids. She slowly pulled the blankets off him. The cold air sent shivers over his skin.
He didn’t move. Even as her hands cupped his face. Even as she whispered against his hair.
“Come along Nagisa. Just give in. It’s so easy to let me have what I want, isn’t it? You’ll look so sweet.”
Her nails dig into his neck as her voice becomes rough and angry.
“Get up.”
He buried his face in the pillow. She’d go away if he stayed still. She’d go away if he stayed still. She’d go away if he stayed still.
She’d go away if
“It doesn’t matter if you choose to be good” - nails digging deeper, “or if you stay sleeping” she hissed. “I’ll get what I want either way.”
She yanked up his pyjama shirt, a button ripping off. He flinched away, wrapping his arms around himself tight. Those hands followed, ripping his sleeve from its seams.
“I’ll get up.” He choked out. “I’ll do it.”
“I knew you were awake!” She crooned happily. “Get changed quickly!”
And finally she was gone. He huddled into the ruined pyjamas shirt. At the foot of his bed a dress was neatly laid out. Of course.
He could see her shadow under the door. She was still waiting. Listening for the sound of him changing. She’d come back if he wasn’t quick.
He hugged himself tighter.
All he had to do was dress and stay quiet. It was only for a little bit. Usually. It would be ok.
It would. It would.
He opened his bedroom door and the hands latched onto him. Straightening his dress. Fixing his hair. Holding his face.
She pulled him to the kitchen and sat him down at the table. She grabbed her hairbrush.
“Stay still!”
She could be so gentle. So sweet. His muscles ache from tensing for so long.
She turned him around and stared at his face. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see her expression.
She loved him. She loved him so much like this. If he saw that on her face he’d cry.
Her breath was warm.
Too close.
𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦
Disgust rolled over him.
“Lovely.” She said, finally pulling away.
“Time for bed.”
He crept away before she changed her mind. Her eyes followed him.
He looks pretty. Hair moving around him, dress swaying as he walks.
𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨
He closes the door to hide from her. He carefully draped the dress over his his chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle.
It hadn’t been so bad this time. This was fine.
He stared at his wall until the sun rose.