Torture

"Take deep breaths. It's alright. I can promise you that everything's just fine, because I'm the one who's asking this of you."

She takes the knife and hands it to him.

"You have that pleading look in your eyes, in your wondrous, mysterious eyes, that suddenly turn dark and sorrowful as you stare at the blade. Every part of you is reluctant; every part of you seems to be begging right back at me that you'd give absolutely anything to not to have to do this."

She whispers. She wanted this; she wanted him to use the knife. Her very own soul had been wanting it for days, and weeks at a stretch.

"Please don't say no. Please give me what I truly desire, what my heart yearns for. I have trust in you, I have that faith, that you won't plan to hurt me."

And once again, he asks why.

"You wouldn't understand. I wouldn't expect you to. It's to fill this hole inside of me. It's to use that pain as a source to wipe the scars from my heart.
And truthfully, when that pain is coming from you, it's different. It's like a gift that only you have, to not make me scream because it's too much to tolerate."

But he isn't convinced.  

"Please."

He shakes his head. Looks straight into her eyes.

"You're afraid to hurt me, I know. And that feeling right there, is all that matters to me. Didn't I tell you I have faith in you? I know you don't want to do this. I know that you've broken my heart a million times, that you've seen me writhing in pain because of you. And you're tired and regretful. As long as that's true, I'd still love you."

He seems to understand. Reluctant hands grip the end of the knife. The blade meets the collar bone, and as the pain shoots up through her nerves, he leans in to kiss her.  

"That's it, keep going. All I can feel right now, is the touch of your lips. Of your shaking fingers sliding down my skin, to comfort me. All I can feel now, is your heart aching for mine. You feel as tempted and passionate as ever, and yet, you have that bold reluctance every time you're slicing that knife through me."

Beads of blood trickle heavily down her skin and fall on the floor. They stain the bed, but the knife doesn't stop. She doesn't want him to stop. And he continues to kiss her as he strikes swift, sure scars on her.

"You're angrier. Frustrated at me. Frustrated that I'm making you do this, but it's absolutely divine, only because this pain in coming from you. You always wanted this to be far from deliberate, but, here you are, giving me something I need. I can feel your racing heartbeat as I'm panting against you. Your fingers are steadier now, more determined, because you're angrier. I can feel those stinging throbs through my closed eyes. I can feel the hot blood, my own, slipping down my skin, soaking my t-shirt."

The cuts become more aggressive, and become deep gashes as he feels more frustrated. All he can think about is that pain he's causing her, and that leads to more slices. But she seems to want exactly that. She locks her lips with his again, noticing his unwillingness, yet strong hold on his act.  

"You're the only thing that I'm bothered about right now, now that you're holding me so close to you. It doesn't matter how far you're going, how much you're torturing me, because this scars right here…which are burning like hell…is a symbol of you.
A symbol that I want engraved inside of me. And this way…this night right here…is how I want it to be engraved in me.
After tonight is over, I'm going to hurt like I've never before. But this time that was spent, being with you, without slightest expression other than pain, was probably that best thing I could have asked for.
I need you to remember that I'd always love you. That no matter how many times you use this knife, my faith in you will never ever fade".

He tries to calm down, but can't bring himself to. He couldn't understand, still why she was making him do this. But she couldn't understand one thing either.
How much it cut an imaginary, yet exactly the same stinging pain, every time he sliced the knife through her skin.