Page 40 of Consumed

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I let out a deep sigh, furrowing my brows as I blinked my eyes open.

Darkness.

That's all I could see.

And warmth.

It was wrapped around me.

That's when I realized I was nuzzled into her body, my face in her chest as she held me close.

I tilted my head back, making out the shadow of her face outlined by the coolness of the moonlight creeping in through the curtains.

My eyes trailed every inch of her face, taking in her relaxed brows, the way her soft lips naturally poked out.

Her silky brown hair was braided away from her face, emphasizing her sharp features.

I glanced away from her, feeling the hollowness of my stomach.

And then I realized I never ate.

I fell asleep before she got back upstairs.

What time is it?

I glanced around the room for a digital clock or just any sign of time.

There was nothing.

I pursed my lips, blinking a few times as I tried to figure out what I should do.

I don't want to wake her up.

She barely sleeps as it is.

And she has work early in the morning.

But I also don't want to just roam her house alone.

I know she wouldn't be comfortable with that.

I bit the inside of my cheek, staring at her face for a moment.

Maybe I just need some water.

If I drink enough, I'll feel full enough to fall back asleep.

I'm sure she put some on the nightstand.

She always does.

I hesitantly leaned away from her, my motions slow as I carefully watched her face for any expression that meant she was waking up.

She remained relaxed, her arms still around me as I leaned further away.

Then I carefully reached for one of her arms, delicately grabbing her slender wrist.

Her brows furrowed immediately.

I quickly let go of her wrist, my thoughts screaming at me to be as still as possible.

A few seconds passed—the longest seconds of my life actually.

But her brows finally relaxed, no longer furrowed as she instinctively pulled me back closer.

Defeat shot through me, realizing I was right back where I started.

I tried again.

This time after I pulled back, I didn't grab her wrist.

Instead, I tried my best to slide out of her arms, leaning further away from her.

Until finally, I was successfully out of her arms.

She remained sleeping, her face relaxed without a sign of distress.

She's so pretty.

I quickly shook my head, determining I needed to focus.

I slowly leaned up from the bed, carefully sliding my body off the side.

Then I lowered my legs down, grunting when pain shot through my legs.

But it was too late.

I had already slid off the bed, stumbling as my arms flailed in the air.

I fell to my knees before I could process it, groaning when the cold floor met my skin with a harsh smack.

I had to draw in rapid breaths to prevent a louder groan from escaping my lips.

"Liberty?"

Her voice was raspy, barely audible in the air, and weighed with tiredness.

"All good," I quickly said, pursing my lips tightly together as I sat awkwardly on the floor.

I heard her briefly pat the bed, "Where are you?" she suddenly asked.

I awkwardly remained silent for a moment, contemplating the basis of my life.

Because this is so fucking embarrassing.

"Uh," I suddenly breathed out, smacking my lips together, "I'm kind of on the floor."

Monroe laid up from the bed immediately, confusion written all over her face.

I pursed my lips again when her stare fell on me, processing my current predicament.

It genuinely took her a moment, reaching up to briefly rub under her tired eyes.

I felt bad for waking her up like this.

"I'm sorry," I unconsciously whispered as she pulled the covers off of her body, revealing the silky mocha pajama shirt and pants she wore.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Monroe immediately said, yawning in the cutest way as she slid out of bed, "I'm sorry darling, I'm trying to wake up better."

I quickly shook my head, "You don't have to," I assured her, attempting to stretch my legs out on my own.

It only made me wince, drawing in a deep breath as Monroe instinctively lowered down to my height.

"Don't," she quickly said when I attempted to move again, sitting on the floor by me as she reached for one of my legs.

I relaxed as she carefully massaged all the tension out of my leg, working her way up from my ankle to my thigh.

I unconsciously remained silent, unsure of what I should say.

"What woke you up darling?" she suddenly asked me, glancing away from my leg to meet my stare.

I shrugged, "I was a little hungry," I said, trying my best to sound nonchalant about it so it wouldn't be a big deal, "But I was planning to drink some water—I really didn't want to wake you up."

"Liberty," Monroe sighed, her tone full of disapproval, "If you're hungry you wake me up."

I nodded immediately, parting my lips to say something, but she wasn't done.

"If you're thirsty, or you simply can't sleep, you wake me up," she continued, her tone as serious as ever with me, "You should never have to satisfy your hunger with water, Liberty."

I nodded again, "Yeah, okay," I awkwardly whispered, glancing away from her stare, "I'm sorry for thinking that."

Monroe remained silent for a moment, her stare burning into my face.

The air around us was quiet for a few beats.

Until Monroe grabbed my hand, her touch gentle and warm.

"How do you feel?" she suddenly asked me, her voice softer now.

"Good," I said, glancing over to meet her stare, "My legs hurt but I'm good."

Monroe nodded, but she didn't say anything again—her eyes openly trailing my face.

"You're apologizing a lot," she determined, gently interlacing our fingers together, "I wanted to make sure you weren't experiencing a drop."

"A drop?" I emphasized, wondering what that meant.

"Subdrop," Monroe clarified, releasing my hand to massage my other leg, "After something as intense as a punishment, your body can crash. You might feel off—guilt, exhaustion, even disconnected."

I blinked a few times, processing her words, "I think I'm okay? It's been hours and I don't feel anything?" I said as she massaged her hands up my leg.

"It can hit later. Sometimes the next day," Monroe clarified, carefully kneading her knuckle into my thigh.

I shrugged, "I feel fine," I determined, not noticing anything abnormal.

Everything was at the back of my head—the rope, the clamps, even the flogger, it almost felt like I dreamt it all.

"Let's get you something to eat then," Monroe determined, letting go of my leg.

I smiled immediately, "Yes please," I said, feeling beyond hungry.

Monroe stood up first, leaning down to help me onto my feet.

Which took more work than it should've.

But after steadying on my feet, I was good to go.

Monroe kept her arm wrapped tightly around my waist, allowing me to lean some of my weight on her as she helped me walk.

The stairs were the hardest part.

I considered asking her for a pillow so I could slide down them...

But I decided against it.

I don't think Monroe would go for that, and I also wouldn't be able to stop myself toward the bottom.

So... it was a no.

After a few dreadful minutes, I made it down the stairs, and my legs felt a little less sore now that I moved them a little.

The lighting underneath the kitchen cabinets turned on as soon as we walked into her kitchen, detecting our motion immediately.

Monroe helped me sit down on one of the smooth black chairs at the kitchen island, my legs dangling from the tall chair.

She gently tucked some of my stray hairs away from my face before walking over to the fridge.

"I saved some leftovers from earlier," Monroe said, the bright fridge light illuminating her glowy skin as she reached for a sealed glass bowl, "What was salvageable at least."

I awkwardly pursed my lips, recalling the salad I threw all over the table.

"Would it be bad... to say I want something else?" I hesitantly asked her, not exactly wanting steak right now.

I wanted something more simple I think.

"What do you want darling?" Monroe immediately asked me, glancing away from the fridge to the digital clock on the stove, "I assume some places might be open as it's only one in the morning."

I quickly shook my head at her assumption, "No-no you don't have to go get me anything," I quickly said as she glanced over to meet my stare, "I was thinking something simple, maybe a PB&J."

Monroe blinked a few times, her brows hilariously furrowing at my words.

I can tell it's due to how tired she is, but it's so cute on her.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" she clarified, making me smile like some weirdo.

"Yes, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," I repeated back in a sarcastic tone, shaking my head with a soft laugh, "Is that abnormal for you Ro Ro?"

My eyes shifted down, noticing her lips spread into a smile.

A prominent fucking smile.

I seriously could stare at her all night, even if it meant losing sleep.

"You would not believe how abnormal that is for me, Liberty," Monroe determined, shaking her head as she glanced back over to the fridge.

Her very organized fridge I should add.

From what I could tell, everything was in neat rows.

I raised a brow, "Oh so I need to make it more complex?" I murmured in thought, leaning back in my chair, "Maybe add some caviar on there then for me."

Monroe grabbed a jar of organic jam.

Of course, it was organic.

"Oh, you know what caviar is?" Monroe curiously asked me, gently closing the fridge, "Who taught you these things?"

I dramatically parted my lips, "Um that's basic knowledge," I pointed out, earning a soft chuckle from Monroe as she set the jam on the counter.

The sound made my heart stall in my chest for a moment, unconsciously smiling at her.

"I'm joking darling," she assured me, opening one of the black cabinets.

"I like it when you joke with me," I determined, watching as she pulled one of the drawers in the cabinet out.

Everything was so precisely organized.

Her bread was in a container?

And on a drawer lower, all the spreads were neatly lined up.

The peanut butter was more towards the back.

"Then I should joke more often," Monroe said, gently pushing the drawer in and closing the cabinet.

I raised a brow, "You'd do that?" I curiously asked her, watching as she set the bread container down with the peanut butter, "I feel like you're a robot sometimes Ro Ro."

Monroe's lips twitched up at my words "It's a controlled response, Liberty," she said as she turned around, opening another cabinet to grab a small glass plate, "It's a habit sometimes."

I furrowed my brows, "Controlled response? What does that mean?" I curiously asked.

Monroe faced me again, across the kitchen island, carefully setting the plate down on the counter.

"Imagine someone tells you something," Monroe went to explain, opening the bread container, "You would immediately react, yes?"

I nodded immediately, "Yeah," I murmured, watching as she set the two slices of bread on the plate.

"My brain goes through numerous stages before it gets to a reaction," she clarified, turning away from me again to open another drawer for two smooth knives, "I naturally analyze everything someone says. In some instances, it feels easier to react."

I raised a brow as she stood in front of me at the counter again, "Instances with me?" I clarified with an amused smirk.

Monroe glanced up to meet my stare, "Yes, Liberty, instances with you," she said, her tone sarcastic as her lips twitched up slightly.

"I know," I murmured happily, my smile widening.

"You and this ego, darling," Monroe murmured, carefully spreading the peanut butter onto the bread, "I assumed it vanished after you kissed my heels."

I immediately rolled my eyes, "Are you seriously going to bring that up?" I asked as she continued spreading the peanut butter until it was completely smooth and spread to every edge of the bread slice.

"It was adorable," she determined, reaching for the clean knife and leaving the other one in the peanut butter jar.

My smile grew amused at her words, "I was on my knees for you in a bar bathroom, kissing your shoes—and you think that's adorable?" I emphasized, finding the word she chose to be hilarious, "That was the most degrading thing I've ever done."

"Not crawling to me on your knees?" Monroe clarified, her lips twitching up as she glanced away from the sandwich she was making me.

"Now I just think you just want to degrade me some more," I determined, my face unconsciously burning up from her words.

Her stare wasn't helping either.

"Always," she murmured, glancing back down as she focused on precisely smoothing the strawberry jam.

Then she carefully pressed the two pieces of bread together, ensuring they were even before she cut the sandwich in half diagonally.

I smiled happily when she slid the plate over to me, immediately reaching down to pick up one of the sandwich halves.

As I ate, she grabbed me a napkin and made me a glass of water to drink as well.

Then she focused on putting everything back and carefully rinsing the knives off before loading them into the dishwasher.

By the time she was done, I had already finished my sandwich and drank my water, feeling beyond content again.

Monroe naturally took my plate and glass when I was done, rinsing it off as well and putting it in the dishwasher.

I relaxed back in the chair with a happy smile, watching as she closed the dishwasher and walked over to me.

"Better?" Monroe asked as she stopped in front of me, standing between my legs.

I unconsciously reached for her waist, "Yes, thank you so much," I murmured, leaning into her entirely.

Monroe wrapped her arms around me, surrounding me in warmth as she pulled me against her body.

"You're welcome," she said, openly staring down at me for a moment.

Her blue eyes held mine, appearing in thought over something.

I remained silent—patient to hear what she would say.

If she would say it.

"No more misbehaving."

Her words were soft, lowered in a whisper.

It sounded almost like a question.

Like she wanted to clarify that we're on the same page.

"No more," I said, wanting nothing more than to assure her, "I'll... stop being friends with Kaia," I hesitantly whispered, hoping to please her.

"Good darling," she softly whispered, unwrapping her arms from me and gently cupping my face in her hands, "That's all I needed to hear from the beginning."

"I should've told you," I forced out, feeling guilt eat away at me, "I'm really sorry."

Monroe shook her head, "It's over now. The past is the past," she said, her voice lowered between us, "You handle her and we never have to speak of it again."

I furrowed my brows, "Really?" I asked in confusion, entirely unaccustomed to this standard.

Or maybe I was used to people bringing up past instances when it benefited them in the moment or even during an argument.

Like Kaia.

Or my mother.

"Yes darling," Monroe didn't hesitate to stay, gently caressing her thumb against my cheek, "It's resolved now. It would be unnecessary to bring it up again."

"Even if we're arguing or something?" I asked, wondering what way she meant her words.

"Even if we're in a disagreement," Monroe clarified, correcting my previous word choice, "It's resolved, and in the past, we don't need to focus on it."

I smiled slightly as I stared up at her, "That's... really nice to hear," I whispered honestly, holding her stare as I tilted my head back further.

Monroe remained silent for a moment, her eyes trailing my face illuminated by the dim lighting.

Her touch against my face was gentle, caressing my skin with intention.

I unconsciously leaned up closer to her, closing the small gap between us and leaving our faces inches apart.

Monroe's brows furrowed slightly, holding my stare as our lips barely grazed.

We both were struck frozen for a moment, our breaths mixing into one as we wordlessly stared at each other.

I inaudibly gasped when she pressed her lips to mine, running her hand down from my cheek to wrap around my neck.

Her touch was gentle.

Even the way she was kissing me... it was so soft and patient.

It completely contradicted the rough kiss from earlier.

I hummed when she gently sucked down on my bottom lip, caressing my curls away from my face with her other hand.

My lips parted for her as she slid her tongue past, hesitantly slipping my hands under her silky pajama top and trailing my fingertips across her smooth skin.

It was so soft.

She's so soft.

I unconsciously shivered when she caressed her hand against the column of my neck, humming as I leaned into her for more.

Our chests rose and fell in sync through the deep kiss, our motions slowed and intentional.

Monroe pulled away first, but barely a centimeter.

Her breaths were soft against my face, my eyes fluttering open to meet her stare.

"Liberty," she whispered so breathlessly, her breaths mixing with mine, "You taste like peanut butter."

My face immediately burned up in embarrassment, my breathing unconsciously growing more breathless from her words.

"I'm sorry, I can brush my teeth before we kiss again," I quickly offered, knowing how particular she is, "I mean, if we kiss again. But I know it makes a difference for you, so I can do it now."

Monroe's lips twitched up at my words, remaining silent as she openly stared down at me.

Then she pressed her lips back to mine again.

"You're kissing me right now," she murmured against my lips, tilting my head back further to kiss me deeper, "We'll brush our teeth later."

I unconsciously smiled against her lips, trailing my hands up her bare back as I basked in her silky skin.

Monroe hummed against my lips in response, gently cupping her hand against my curly hair, ensuring she didn't mess it up.

I slid my tongue into her mouth with each kiss, basking in the softness of her warm mouth.

Monroe's lips parted against mine when I gently scratched my nails down her soft back, kissing her deeper and deeper.

"My god, Liberty," she whispered against my lips, pulling me in closer by the back of my head.

I breathlessly hummed at her attractive words, gripping her closer when she sucked down on my bottom lip.

Then the kiss grew deeper, our breaths growing more and more rushed as the air burned around us.

I was panting for air when she halted the kiss.

But only to graze her soft lips against mine, our breaths tangled as one.

I relaxed under her, my eyes unconsciously fluttering open just as hers did.

She smoothed her hands delicately across my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

It was silent as we stared wordlessly at one another, the dim lighting illuminating the soft shadows of our faces.

Monroe closed the gap between us again, briefly kissing my lips before leaning away.

"Now we brush our teeth," she said, sliding her hands down my arms to gently grab my hands.

I nodded as she helped me slide down from the tall chair, adjusting to my tight legs.

Monroe was just as patient as before, helping me walk through the kitchen toward the hallway.

Going up the stairs was definitely fucking worse than going down, but I made it through.

All that was left was brushing our teeth.

Which barely took us a few minutes before we were sliding back into bed.

I felt content as I settled in her arms, nuzzling my face into her chest and allowing my body to relax against hers.

Monroe held me close, her head resting above mine as we both slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

I was more than comfortable, listening to her calm heartbeat as I verged deeper asleep.

I slept so hard that I woke up the next morning, all alone and tucked in.

I knew Monroe had tucked me as she always did before she left for work.

She even left a platter on the nightstand with covered croissants and fruit for me.

There was also a brief note that I picked up and read.

Call me when you wake up.

-Ro Ro

I smiled idiotically at the card, taking in the nickname she willingly wrote on that card.

Her handwriting was beautiful—it almost looked like a cursive font you would find online.

Meanwhile, my cursive is messy and it takes me two times longer to read cursive writing.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand with a wide smile, venturing off to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth.

And use the bathroom—I have to pee so fucking bad.

I decided to use the bathroom first, trying to be quick so I could wash my hands and call her.

Her hand soap smelled so nice, I couldn't stop myself from smelling my hands after drying them.

Then I unconsciously reached under her sweater that I wore, scratching my skin that felt weirdly itchy.

"Fuck," I unconsciously gritted, wincing at the pain my nails caused against my skin.

I furrowed my brows, reaching for the hem of the sweater and lifting it up entirely.

My face physically fell when my eyes landed on it.

My skin lingering with welts.

It made my heart tick faster in my ears, eyeing my body almost wordlessly.

I let her do this to me?

I turned slightly, my eyes trailing my skin as the welts lingered even on my side.

My back too?

I quickly drew in a series of deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

But last night was no longer at the back of my head.

It was fresh, burning behind my eyes like a present occurrence rather than a distant memory.

The clamps, the flogger—how I refused to make it all stop to prove I could take it for her.

It was all for her.

A weak whimper vibrated in my throat, tears burning in my eyes as I stared expressionlessly at myself in the mirror.

It was odd.

I knew it was me.

The reflection was me.

But it didn't feel like me—every move I made, the soft sobs echoing from my lips, it wasn't me.

It felt like I was watching it all unfold behind my eyes, waiting for the dread to pass.

I couldn't breathe, my cries were uncontrollable.

I gripped the counter harder, but I couldn't fucking remember when I even reached out for it.

When I hunched over like this?

The marble was cold underneath my hands, snapping in and out of reality.

Even my phone felt out of reach, like it wasn't real.

I tried to tell myself I was okay.

That I was making this a big deal.

But it only made me feel worse.

It made me feel like I had lost my mind.

"Liberty?"

Her voice was warped, distant—like she was speaking through water.

I tried to breathe through it, refusing to look at myself in the mirror as I focused on saying one word.

Anything.

My lips parted, but I wasn't sure if I was speaking or just thinking about it.

Everything felt wrong.

But what was wrong?

I don't know. I don't know.

I spoke before my brain could process it—

"Yellow."

It was the only thing I could think of—I had nothing else that would explain the urgency of how I felt right now.

"Everything is okay," her soft voice weaved into my thoughts as I laid on the ground.

I wasn't sure when I took the initiative to lower down or sit on the floor.

But now I'm staring at this unfamiliar ceiling and nothing feels right.

The lights were too bright, too sharp—like they were cutting into me.

It felt unsettling.

Her voice was like an echoey afterthought—like it was all nonexistent.

Everything felt nonexistent, and all I could do was cry and beg for it to stop.

"I'm on the way now."

More tears streamed down my face, curling up in a fetal position as I held my arms tight against my body.

I'm not okay.

I'm not okay.

Will I be okay again?

What if I won't?

What if this is forever?

"Clear my schedule for the day," I heard her voice filter in through my thoughts again, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried to focus on anything but this feeling.

Or my thoughts.

They're really not helping.

Nothing is helping.

I'm not okay.

"I'm less than ten minutes away."

I heard her heels click distantly from the phone speaker, echoing in my heavy head as I focused on breathing.

But focusing on that, only made me realize how shallow my breathing really was.

I'm going to die.

This is it.

I'm not okay.

"You're safe. You're okay," her voice interjected into my heavy thoughts.

I squeezed my arms tighter against my body, wondering where this all went wrong.

It was sudden—everything was fine.

I was okay.

I'm not okay now.

"I'm right here with you. Listen to my voice."

I let out the roughest breath, burying my face in my arms as I tried to cling to something.

Everything feels far away, and it's scary.

I breathed more rapidly, staring forward at the blurry wall as I questioned my entire existence.

That's all I could do, hearing fragments of her voice or my soft cries in my ear.

But truly, I was all alone.

That's all I could really feel as I remained laid out on the cold bathroom floor.