(in response to the November Notes Writing Challenge as hosted by A Reading Writer and Heartstring Eulogies.)
“Everybody’s been broken, everybody’s been down
Keep the floodgates open, let it all out, ’cause
Every tear can put out a fire, every tear can put out a fire”
“Cry me a river baby,” he whispered, his breath feathering against her ear and she sobbed once before she sucked in a breath and held it.
“No?” He ran a finger down her cheek, lifted it to show her. “Here’s one. You owe me a lot more. The trouble you’ve caused me.”
“Why are you doing this?” she gasped as he stepped back and straddled the chair in front of her.
He folded his arms across the back of the chair and tilted his head, a smirk on his fallen angel’s face. “Why am I doing this?”
“Yes. Why are you torturing me?” She held up her bound wrists.
He sighed and raked his fingers through his midnight hair, leaving it sticking up haphazardly. “Seriously babe? This was your idea.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, why would I want this?”
“You said that I needed to get you to open up, to let it all out like the song says,” he explained patiently.
“So you tied me up?” she frowned.
“Oh no, that’s all you baby. I think it’s ahh, a mental construct more than a physical one. If you,” he held up his hands, wrists together then jerked them apart, “you’ll be free.”
A moment later the rope dropped the ground between them. “Huh.” She looked down at it in surprise. “Is that meant to be symbolic?”
He shrugged. “Hell if I know babe. Do you feel like you’re not broken anymore, have you freed yourself?”
She held up her bound wrists.
“Guess I’m going to have make you cry some more.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his smile then he stood up and moved behind her. “Come here baby.” He smoothed his hands over her hips.
“Alex?” she said breathlessly.
“What if these are the wrong kind of tears?”
“We’ll keep trying until we get the right kind,” he promised.
“We will?” she gasped as he moved her into place.
“We will … the sacrifices I make.”