Corruptible

“Wash it off.” 

I pointed to the bathroom, wanting her to wash the makeup off her face, unsure why I felt so angry, so possessive. But it’s like when it came to her, I lost all control.

She looked like she wanted to say something, maybe ask me what was wrong with me, but instead, she obeyed. Sliding off her coat, she handed it to me, then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I watched that closed door, standing like an idiot holding her coat, still wearing mine, listening to the water run. 

Shaking myself out of it, I set her coat over the back of a chair and put mine on top. 

I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey and two glasses before returning to the living area. I poured us each a drink and took my glass to the window, where I gazed out onto the street at the few people strolling outside, not seeing anything at all. I swallowed the contents of my glass and set it down on the side table. 

Absently, I rolled up my shirt sleeves before pouring myself a second drink and sitting on the couch to wait for her, knowing exactly what I wanted to do. 

Knowing how wrong it would be. 

Lina emerged a few minutes later, her hair out of its bun and in one long braid over her shoulder. She stood there, not moving, letting me take her in, in her dress and four-inch heels, only that fine silk standing between us, keeping me from seeing. 

And I wanted to see. 

I wanted more badly than anything to see. 

“I poured you a drink.” My voice sounded foreign to my ears. 

She looked to where I gestured, opened her mouth, but closed it again. She crossed the room while I watched her and picked up the glass, then forced it down all at once, squeezing her eyes shut as it burned her throat. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And I liked that the whiskey burned. I wanted to punish her.

“You lied to me,” I said.

She blinked, having the grace to look away momentarily, not denying what I said. We remained silent, studying each other.

“Take are consequences, Lina.” I took a sip of my whiskey and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. 

“Consequences?”

“Take it off,” I said, gesturing to the dress.

Her gaze shifted down then back to me, her eyebrows raised as if she were confused. 

“You heard me.”

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