Chapter Text
i will never forgive myself for my compliance to him.
from the day we met, he has played me like a theremin. he has made me bend and sing and cater to his every liking, without a single touch. his shaking hands, the bob of his adam’s apple as he says my name, the twinge of his eyebrows, these are all strings that i’ve found myself tied to. he always seems to find a way to tug at these strings and pull me into his dance.
i’m not sure where my mind goes once i step into this surgical waltz. sometimes i catch his eyes lingering on my throat. am i his next cadaver? if i were, would he dissect me with any added attention, or would he indifferently slash away at my limp body?
the thought of the former is one that i regrettably keep coming back to. the thought of one of his hands holding his scalpel and the other one wrapped in my hair. the thought of him tenderly peeling away my skin, muscle, cartilage, and bone, to cast his eyes on my heart. would he treat it as another organ to be bagged and stored? or would he save it, blood dripping from his gloved hands, as a reminder of what he couldn’t grasp from the living me?
the truth is, he could have my heart, dead or alive. it seems dead would be the easier option for us. but if he would turn off the theremin, and extend his surgically gentle touch, i would give him my heart in an instant. alive.