Tightrope | R | Secretary
Title: Tightrope
Prompt: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain
Challenge: 100 Fic Challenge (#14)
Fandom: Lee/Edward, Secretary
Requested by: jenc81
Rating: R
Word Count: 797
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’ve never written for this fandom before…*cues nerves* This took a bit of a different turn than I had originally anticipated, but I think I need to write these from time to time. Anyway…I hope I was able to capture Lee’s voice. Let me know what you think!
-
There are some days when all Lee can think about is cutting. Edward has forbidden it, but the thoughts have not been banished from her mind. She imagines with perfect clarity the kiss of the blade into her thigh. She imagines the ceramic ballet slipper piercing her hip. She imagines the kettle searing into her flesh. She even constructs new scenarios in her mind, fantasizing about it in the way she might fantasize about a romantic night with her husband.
There are times when she really misses it, the way one would miss an old friend they haven’t seen in years.
Sometimes what she misses most is seeing the blood bubble to the surface of her skin. Its scarlet life is reassuring, something she can always count on. With the blood seeped the pressure that had been building inside, forcing her need for release. Lee could not see whatever it was that made her cut in the first place but she knew that with the breaking of her skin that it would leave her.
Until the next time, anyway.
Sometimes, Lee wishes she hadn’t gotten rid of her kit. The blades and various objects had gotten her through some of the more difficult times in her life. They were her friends. She’d had no real friends of her own, no one to see her through the dark times, no one to notice that she was becoming a shell of Lee Holloway. But the blade never judged; it simply gave her the release that she needed to get her through until the next time.
Lee is in a better place now. She’s married. She’s happily married to someone who loves her, scars and all. She wishes that Edward’s love would erase these dark thoughts entirely from her mind, but they still creep around the edges. It’s disconcerting to know that she can be at peace with herself and still have the urges. She walks a tightrope every day, balancing the ghost of her former self on her shoulders.
Today, Edward has gone to work and Lee is at home, carefully hand washing each of the dishes in the sink. They have a dishwasher, but Lee likes to submerge her hands in the soapy water. She likes to scrub the filth from each dish until they are perfectly clean. Edward likes them that way and Lee doesn’t mind. It gives her something to do. She likes the routine.
When she shifts her hands blindly in the sink, it startles her to feel the blade of a knife connect with her palm. She hadn’t been expecting it. When she pulls her hand out of the water, it surprises her to see blood. It doesn’t take long to find the culprit: a stainless steel steak knife wedged between two dishes.
The cut is not bad, a mere prick. Blood seeps into bubbles of soapy water on her hand and slides down her arm before being caught by the hem of the shirt that is bunched at her elbow. The pink staining the white of her shirt jars her.
She thinks with relative ease of her cutting days. If this mistake had happened then, she would have likely punished herself for her carelessness. She would have taken the serrated blade to the inside of her forearm, parted the pale canvas of her skin, covered it with a sodden dishtowel, and bandaged it in the privacy of her bedroom.
Lee stares for several more seconds at the knife. She remembers when there had been a time that she was not allowed around cutlery, but that was before Edward. Edward trusts her and believes that she has overcome her demons. He does not know that she has these thoughts. She drops the knife into the sink. She rinses her arm and cleans out the little cut. It’s already stopped bleeding.
Lee continues to wash the dishes and wonders where these dark thoughts are coming from. She is not unhappy. She is not anxious or upset or out of control. More or less, she is quite content with her life.
It’s when she acknowledges that fact that Lee is able to take her dark thoughts and put them away. She can defeat the urges simply because she has redirected her needs elsewhere. She will not cut because Edward told her not to. It’s enough motivation. She had the power to stop the entire time; she just needed a reason greater than herself to want to stop.
As Lee puts the last dish into the strainer, the phone rings. She already knows that it’s Edward, calling to check in and see how her day is going. As she walks towards the phone, she can feel her dark thoughts drifting further into the back of her mind.
---
Prompt: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain
Challenge: 100 Fic Challenge (#14)
Fandom: Lee/Edward, Secretary
Requested by: jenc81
Rating: R
Word Count: 797
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’ve never written for this fandom before…*cues nerves* This took a bit of a different turn than I had originally anticipated, but I think I need to write these from time to time. Anyway…I hope I was able to capture Lee’s voice. Let me know what you think!
-
There are some days when all Lee can think about is cutting. Edward has forbidden it, but the thoughts have not been banished from her mind. She imagines with perfect clarity the kiss of the blade into her thigh. She imagines the ceramic ballet slipper piercing her hip. She imagines the kettle searing into her flesh. She even constructs new scenarios in her mind, fantasizing about it in the way she might fantasize about a romantic night with her husband.
There are times when she really misses it, the way one would miss an old friend they haven’t seen in years.
Sometimes what she misses most is seeing the blood bubble to the surface of her skin. Its scarlet life is reassuring, something she can always count on. With the blood seeped the pressure that had been building inside, forcing her need for release. Lee could not see whatever it was that made her cut in the first place but she knew that with the breaking of her skin that it would leave her.
Until the next time, anyway.
Sometimes, Lee wishes she hadn’t gotten rid of her kit. The blades and various objects had gotten her through some of the more difficult times in her life. They were her friends. She’d had no real friends of her own, no one to see her through the dark times, no one to notice that she was becoming a shell of Lee Holloway. But the blade never judged; it simply gave her the release that she needed to get her through until the next time.
Lee is in a better place now. She’s married. She’s happily married to someone who loves her, scars and all. She wishes that Edward’s love would erase these dark thoughts entirely from her mind, but they still creep around the edges. It’s disconcerting to know that she can be at peace with herself and still have the urges. She walks a tightrope every day, balancing the ghost of her former self on her shoulders.
Today, Edward has gone to work and Lee is at home, carefully hand washing each of the dishes in the sink. They have a dishwasher, but Lee likes to submerge her hands in the soapy water. She likes to scrub the filth from each dish until they are perfectly clean. Edward likes them that way and Lee doesn’t mind. It gives her something to do. She likes the routine.
When she shifts her hands blindly in the sink, it startles her to feel the blade of a knife connect with her palm. She hadn’t been expecting it. When she pulls her hand out of the water, it surprises her to see blood. It doesn’t take long to find the culprit: a stainless steel steak knife wedged between two dishes.
The cut is not bad, a mere prick. Blood seeps into bubbles of soapy water on her hand and slides down her arm before being caught by the hem of the shirt that is bunched at her elbow. The pink staining the white of her shirt jars her.
She thinks with relative ease of her cutting days. If this mistake had happened then, she would have likely punished herself for her carelessness. She would have taken the serrated blade to the inside of her forearm, parted the pale canvas of her skin, covered it with a sodden dishtowel, and bandaged it in the privacy of her bedroom.
Lee stares for several more seconds at the knife. She remembers when there had been a time that she was not allowed around cutlery, but that was before Edward. Edward trusts her and believes that she has overcome her demons. He does not know that she has these thoughts. She drops the knife into the sink. She rinses her arm and cleans out the little cut. It’s already stopped bleeding.
Lee continues to wash the dishes and wonders where these dark thoughts are coming from. She is not unhappy. She is not anxious or upset or out of control. More or less, she is quite content with her life.
It’s when she acknowledges that fact that Lee is able to take her dark thoughts and put them away. She can defeat the urges simply because she has redirected her needs elsewhere. She will not cut because Edward told her not to. It’s enough motivation. She had the power to stop the entire time; she just needed a reason greater than herself to want to stop.
As Lee puts the last dish into the strainer, the phone rings. She already knows that it’s Edward, calling to check in and see how her day is going. As she walks towards the phone, she can feel her dark thoughts drifting further into the back of her mind.
---