Rainbow Sherbert #5
Author: Regret
Rating: R [violence]
Story: Three Graces
Challenge: Rainbow Sherbert #5 - Blue
Word Count: 497
Summary: Distraction and inaction can both bring about punishment.
Notes: Themes for this were: mood, eyes, bruises, veins. Bruises turned out to be more fun than expected (because I wasn't planning on the last part, that just happened...). For something so short, it's been a complete and utter pain to write. And yep, I'll be continuing this as one of my flavours - I've got a plan for these and I've got no intention of letting it go to waste. *g*
“What are you doing, David?” The words, inches from his ear, made him flinch. He hadn’t heard the sigh of the elevator, staring so intently at the edges of the room as he’d been. “Or, more accurately, what aren’t you doing?”
“I was thinking.”
A cold hand snaked around his wrist and jerked it upwards, squeezing; he winced. “That wasn’t the question. I asked you what you weren’t doing?”
Across the back of his hand he could see the blue ridges of his veins standing proud. His fingers were going numb already. “I wasn’t working,” he murmured, trying to gently flex his thumb. The grip tightened. “Sorry.”
When the hand squeezed again he truly thought his already too-narrow wrist would snap. The abrupt release of pressure came as no relief either: burning life flooded back into his digits.
The backhanded slap across the face was a surprise.
David hit the floor with a gasp, too stunned from the force of the blow even to move. Pain flared along his cheek, the impression of a thousand tiny, searing needles beneath his skin. The potential for a hand-shaped bruise erased by his own nanites. No evidence.
Above him, Mr. Black was a terrifying sight. “You aren’t here to stare into the distance.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and David cringed back. Black’s lips twisted into a wide, humourless smile at this, a smug expression David always wanted to punch, or spit in; he’d learned long before now that it wasn’t a good idea. “Stop being distracted, David.” He leaned in, down, far too close for comfort, dark eyes boring into David’s wide blue ones. “Get on with your work.”
Anger, revulsion and absolute terror ran through him at the sheer proximity of the man. Every muscle froze. It was probably for the best: it stopped him from screaming, or running away - because that had always served him so well in the past. It kept him from acting on the overwhelming hatred that filled his chest.
God, how he wanted to headbutt him straight between the eyes. It could be so easy-
He forced a nod instead, struggling to his feet as Black stepped back. Being in a submissive position to the man was something he desperately tried to avoid, even if it was with little success. Something in the other man’s eyes seemed disappointed in the reaction, or lack thereof; he didn’t care. All he wanted now was to complete this machine and get back to the relative safety of his cell.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t follow through on the feelings he’d suppressed. With his back to the other man and hands digging into the pile of tech, he could permit himself a savage smile. At times like this, memories could suffice.
And the memory of Mr. Black with a ring of blue around one eye that perfectly matched the dimensions of David’s fist would always be worth the retribution that had followed.
Rating: R [violence]
Story: Three Graces
Challenge: Rainbow Sherbert #5 - Blue
Word Count: 497
Summary: Distraction and inaction can both bring about punishment.
Notes: Themes for this were: mood, eyes, bruises, veins. Bruises turned out to be more fun than expected (because I wasn't planning on the last part, that just happened...). For something so short, it's been a complete and utter pain to write. And yep, I'll be continuing this as one of my flavours - I've got a plan for these and I've got no intention of letting it go to waste. *g*
“What are you doing, David?” The words, inches from his ear, made him flinch. He hadn’t heard the sigh of the elevator, staring so intently at the edges of the room as he’d been. “Or, more accurately, what aren’t you doing?”
“I was thinking.”
A cold hand snaked around his wrist and jerked it upwards, squeezing; he winced. “That wasn’t the question. I asked you what you weren’t doing?”
Across the back of his hand he could see the blue ridges of his veins standing proud. His fingers were going numb already. “I wasn’t working,” he murmured, trying to gently flex his thumb. The grip tightened. “Sorry.”
When the hand squeezed again he truly thought his already too-narrow wrist would snap. The abrupt release of pressure came as no relief either: burning life flooded back into his digits.
The backhanded slap across the face was a surprise.
David hit the floor with a gasp, too stunned from the force of the blow even to move. Pain flared along his cheek, the impression of a thousand tiny, searing needles beneath his skin. The potential for a hand-shaped bruise erased by his own nanites. No evidence.
Above him, Mr. Black was a terrifying sight. “You aren’t here to stare into the distance.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and David cringed back. Black’s lips twisted into a wide, humourless smile at this, a smug expression David always wanted to punch, or spit in; he’d learned long before now that it wasn’t a good idea. “Stop being distracted, David.” He leaned in, down, far too close for comfort, dark eyes boring into David’s wide blue ones. “Get on with your work.”
Anger, revulsion and absolute terror ran through him at the sheer proximity of the man. Every muscle froze. It was probably for the best: it stopped him from screaming, or running away - because that had always served him so well in the past. It kept him from acting on the overwhelming hatred that filled his chest.
God, how he wanted to headbutt him straight between the eyes. It could be so easy-
He forced a nod instead, struggling to his feet as Black stepped back. Being in a submissive position to the man was something he desperately tried to avoid, even if it was with little success. Something in the other man’s eyes seemed disappointed in the reaction, or lack thereof; he didn’t care. All he wanted now was to complete this machine and get back to the relative safety of his cell.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t follow through on the feelings he’d suppressed. With his back to the other man and hands digging into the pile of tech, he could permit himself a savage smile. At times like this, memories could suffice.
And the memory of Mr. Black with a ring of blue around one eye that perfectly matched the dimensions of David’s fist would always be worth the retribution that had followed.