saoirse quinn
she/her
29
october 27
circhester, galar
bisexual
physicist / inventor
head scientist
every night i burn, dream the black crow dream
TAG WITH @lulu
Lulu Flint
comedown horizon
POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 7:33:36 GMT
Yes.She hated it. Theo was dangerous, as well. There was a special sort of hatred there for him, but his closeness to her family kept her around, spiteful as ever, but lingering because she would not let anyone new in. He was already there, having affected her life in a great way that she loathed but had to now accept. Even while she guessed he might put a bullet in her head for it, her anger and need to ventilate made it somehow worth the risk. Kill her now. It might be a relief. “We used to have drinks together. I was trying to get some information from him, but...” She sighed, shaking her head and taking another sip. “I took him home one night.” A huff. It was up there with one of the dumbest things she’d ever done. “I said it was over, and I moved cities the next morning.” “He figured out who I was—before Rocket. My name; presumably where I came from, and what happened before I went to prison, as far I can guess.” She briefly wondered how much Theo knew, and her eyes glanced up at his briefly before averting again. Now wasn’t the time to ask. “He intended to blackmail me with it, but I’d already been running for so long from someone else that I couldn’t stand to do it again, so I stood my ground. He tried to arrest me, and I fought—and lost.”
“But he didn’t take me to jail. He took me to his apartment.” She finished her drink, and poured another, not stopping with much time for interjection. Memories began to swarm. “He kept me there, controlling my consciousness; deciding when I slept. He ‘interrogated me’ to the point that I was in a pool of my own blood and vomit. He brought back the ghosts of my past, and of my lover, and promised their souls freedom if they could break me.” She remembered them descending, dogpiling and ripping at her heart and mind in a way which was indescribable. She wondered if he might believe her. “I didn’t tell him anything. I couldn’t.” Because of Cillian. “I was supposed to die. I wanted to. I remember hoping for it…”He’d stepped on her head. Literally. “And then, when he couldn’t get anything out of me, he erased my memory. He replaced them with…” It was almost too difficult. “He made me think I loved him. Rewrote the things in my head.” A hand went up to rub her eyes. The story proved emotional and exhausting to tell. “I slept with him for months—until the memories came back.”Now, as she sat back again, she looked him dead in the eyes. “You should kill me.”
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