“Anatomy”
Alias
Sarkney
Rating: R
Setting: AU
Summary: Love is a verb. Hate is a noun.
I. Legs
Love is a verb. Hate is a noun.
He taught you that.
He also taught you that everyone has two sides to them. Even yourself. And when you look in the mirror, you can see that double.
You’re standing naked before your reflection. You tilt your head to examine your lean body, the dark hair around your shoulders, the scars from the past. You touch your chin and run your hand down your neck; you pause at the valley in between your breasts and stop on your flat stomach.
You see another form come up behind you. It’s him. He’s also naked, and your gaze moves from your body to his. He reaches around to your stomach with his arm and places his hand on top of yours. He doesn’t stay there for too long.
You let him move his hand lower. You let him move his fingers inside you.
And when your knees buckle, you catch your reflection in the mirror.
Is that you smiling? Or your double?
II. Feet
He tells you to stop pretending. To stop running.
You tell him to catch up.
III. Head
He slams your head against the bedpost. You’re spinning with him.
You complain about him being so rough.
He ignores you and pins your hands down to the bed.
When you are finally free, you realize he is still holding you down.
IV. Mouth
Tonight he acknowledges you and calls you Sydney.
He waits for you to do the same. But you can’t. You can feel the sour vileness building on your tastebuds.
Sa…rk…
Killer. It flows out of your vocal cords with grace.
V. Hair
You pick up a strand of your dark hair on the pillow and dispose of it. You leave no evidence behind.
He’s still sleeping when you exit the hotel room.
When you arrive home you notice the bruise on your arm. You leave no evidence behind because you take it with you.
VI. Hands
He’s tracing something on your back. His fingers move up and down your spine sending chills all over your body.
You feel the loops of a cursive ‘S’ then the slope of a ‘Y’ and then the indentation of a ‘D.’
Your back stiffens and he stops.
He grips your waist instead and turns you over.
You wonder if he will be gentle this time.
VII. Arms
You’re debating if you want to leave.
His arm is draped around you. Your legs, a tangled mess with his. You stare at the ceiling holding in your breath. You look at him from the corner of your eye. He’s awake.
Do you want to leave?
His other arm comes around to hold you in.
You exhale knowing your answer.
VIII. Heart
Love is a verb. Hate is a noun.
And you and him.
Are an oxymoron.