Abbott trails off, zoning out as he traces my fingers in thought.
“You must have lived a sheltered life on the outside of the Chandelier City. Your poor skin probably has never seen the Lady-Doll Regimen. How deeply unfortunate for someone of your beauty.”
From across the room, I hear Niklaus taking quick shallow breaths through his nose.
“Nevertheless, Emerald Wives accept this treatment all the time, really,” Abbott says.
“W-why?” The nerves in my mouth scream from the little movement it takes to utter a single word. It escapes from my lips in a ragged, harsh whisper.
Abbott’s sparse, orange eyebrows lift in silent excitement.
“A number of reasons. Lying, talking back to their husbands, or infidelity. It’s important to wash away any lingering remnants from another man. Or even diseases carried by a man’s penis.” Those intrusive, beady eyes watch me for a reaction.
I don’t give him one. Even though that sentiment is grotesque. Talking back? Well, I guess it’s safe to say that this purity mouth washing bullshit would be a part of my daily routine if I was born in this time period.
“More?” Abbott taps my bottom lip with the canteen.
I nod.
After a few slow drips, I close my eyes at the subtle coating of relief. It’s not significant. The inside of my mouth stays dry as if it can’t absorb enough water to fully soften. But the amount I got down helped me over that deliriously painful hump.
“I see that you’re also cold,” Abbott announces mechanically.
I didn’t notice. The muscles along my abdomen are coiled tightly together, vibrating as I take unsteady breaths. But yes, I’m cold. I’m lying here in my undergarments. No blanket. No layers. This basement is drafty with a murky chill in the air. There’s nothing more uncomfortable than being constantly cold but having no way to curl into a ball to stay warm. No blanket to wrap around myself. It might be the only thing I want more than water or a bathroom break.
I nod again.
Please, bring me a blanket.
Abbott hesitates a moment, taking abnormally loud breaths as he stares down at me. He bobs his head a few times, a nod in reverse, like he’s trying to convince himself of something.
Is he going to get in trouble with his grandmother if he covers me up?
“Y-you don’t—have to—listen t-to her,” I whisper, trying to wet my mouth again between each word.
Abbott eyes me like I’m a lesser species that doesn’t understand the meaning of my own words. “She’s my grandmother.”
With a quick glance back at the basement door, Abbott nods to himself again, then climbs on top of the mattress, on top ofme…
“Wait…” I gasp, grunting against his weight. “No.”
The distressed noises that come out of me through my raw throat aren’t recognizable. I buck and squirm under his bony frame, angling my face as far away from his as I can get.
“Hold still!” His hot breath brushes my cheek.
This vile, red-headed, narcissistic man with my father’s name carved into his forehead hugs my body tightly.
“I’ll keep you warm.” He’s panting. And I wince at the sheer excitement in his voice. The acne on his chin rubs against my cheekbone. His sharp hip bones pin me down. I suffocate in his stale, unhygienic aroma.
“No,” I rasp again. “No.”
The uninvited invasiveness is worse than the cold. It is the worst kind of discomfort. Intrusive. Non-consensual. Revolting. My skin crawls under his weight, itching with the unbearable need to get him off me.
“I suppose no one has ever told you how the human anatomy works. Especially a woman’s anatomy? I can share the warmth of my body with you. Did you know that?” Abbott sighs against my face. “Rhetorical question. Females often lack the understanding of science.”
I squirm and whimper under his weight.
“No, shhh, don’t worry. The average female isn’t capable of holding that sort of knowledge. You’re too busy preparing your womb for childbearing purposes. It’s the sole reason for your existence.”
