My eyes haven't even opened yet and I'm already acutely aware of the pain my body is in. If seeing is believing, I'll keep them shut for now. Perhaps it's for the best that I don't, as I don't want to figure out if the unfamiliar bedding beneath is that of a hospital's or not.
…
I can only lay here for so long though. I blink in the morning light with resentment and prop myself up with all of the youthfulness of an old maid. Wait, that's unfair. I'm certain even Mrs. Foulweather wakes up with less strain than this.
Everything, and I mean everything hurts. My head, my eyes, my lungs, my bones, my nails. Such is the cost of magick when one's unpracticed. Or, that's how it is for me, anyways. Some people, like with alcohol tolerances, are able to perform infrequent tasks with ease and suffer no strain. Though apexes are said to be genetically predisposed to magick, I'd say my abilities are only average. Perhaps it's because I simply have less of a soul to channel from.
Evaluating my surroundings, I'd say they're in the millions. This is beyond a shadow of a doubt the rooftop penthouse of Ledger White. More alarming than that is the fact that I've been stripped down and I appear to be wearing one of his shirts. I'm hooked up to some sort of IV drip as well, though I'm not certain why. It wasn't as if I used that much magick last night, right? I may be out of practice, but that display wouldn't have been enough to end with me being hospitalized or anything.
"Good, you're awake," a voice sounds from what appears to be a baby monitor beside the bed. "I'll be right up, give me like, 30 minutes."
I go to speak, but my mouth is so dry that a sound can be heard. It doesn't take much for me to give up and slink back into the bed, my body reacting strangely to the news that I'm in Ledger's bed and wearing his shirt. I glance down, mesmerized by the gray shirt with silver lining. His chest goes inside this shirt, his shoulders, it clings to his lower back…. That's not to mention the bed. Silky silver sheets, luxurious bedding. I wonder if he ever sleeps naked?
Wait! No! Bad! I shake my head rapidly, only to be punished by lightning bolts of pain. I groan and shift to cover my eyes from the light. This guy went on a potentially homicidal rampage last night. Over a simple visit Ledger attempted to repeatedly kick Alexio in the head! That's deranged! That's horrible! That's not to mention some of the disgusting things he said.
Once might be an accident, but two is a pattern. I'm not entirely certain of what yet, though. Violence was obvious, but over what? The first time it was Dixon asking him nicely to back off, then last night it was Alexio warning me to be careful. I'm not certain what he was going to say before Ledger burst in, but I doubt it was going to be "Watch out, Ledger will beat you up if you piss him off!"
I'm lost in thought for longer than I expect, as Ledger comes through the door with a full tray of breakfast. He's smiling at me, but I can't help but sense something is off slightly.
"You really love to get up to trouble, despite the good girl act," he chuckles as he sets the tray down on the bed, a pair of legs holding it up above my lap. "Coffee? OJ?"
"Coffee," I mumble.
He laughs again. Oh yeah, he's pissed off about something. My throat aches even more as he stirs some cream and sugar into a cup for me.
"I'm a patient guy, so I don't mind. But you, sugar pumpkin, shouldn't go around stealing people's power. It's not very nice."
I shudder at the sight of his polite smile, but when he holds the cup up to my lips I don't resist it. He could give me a cup of straight poison and I'd drink it as long as it was wet. The coffee is extremely bitter, but welcome regardless. I somehow manage to ask him what he means by 'steal' between sips.
"During our little moment last night," his words are cold as ice as he scoops oatmeal from a bowl and up into my mouth. "When you were sucking on my face," he puts the spoon in my mouth, "like a desperate slut," the spoon is thrust deep to the back of my throat.
The surprise of his words and action makes me gasp, causing hot clumps of oatmeal to catch in my throat. He rubs my back, preparing another spoonful for me.
"You lie to me, you steal from me, you sneak around with other men. It's starting to piss me off." He sits straight up, looking down at me with raw contempt. For some reason I actually feel guilty, though I know I don't owe him anything. Perhaps it's my imagination, but it seems his expression softens after noticing my frightened demeanor.
He brings himself close, pressing side into mine and sliding an arm over my shoulder. He graces the top of my head with a gentle kiss, continuing to feed me with his left hand.
"You absorbed magick through me last night. Without me realizing, at first," he pauses. "Maybe you didn't realize either. Guess you just want me that badly," he chuckles.
Oh, that makes sense. That's not something I really wanted him to know. When I think about it, I didn't really want myself to know it. He must be able to predict my exact thoughts, as he slips his right hand over to my neck, stroking my skin gently. Now I'll never be able to eat.
"Tell me you want me," he presses close, whispering in my ear with a tenderness I wasn't aware was possible from him. It's a low, gentle timbre that pierces my brain and makes me tremble. "Tell me~ Say it~" His hands flex on my throat before he curls most of his fingers inwards, leaving only his index to trace down my chest. Every spot he touches burns me inside, despite his finger itself being cold as ice.
He must have given up on feeding me, as instead I feel him kiss the side of my head again. Then, the top of my ear, my ear lobe, my neck, my neck again, again, and again. Ledger White's smooth lips are tormenting me, sending a fire throughout me I've never felt before.
"I want you," the words escape without me fully conscious of them. Taking this as a greenlight to go further, he attempts to turn my head gently. I'm so sore that I can't help but yelp.
"Later, then," he sighs. Begrudgingly he returns to feeding me, and I have to avoid noticing he's visibly riled up himself.