What the #?*!

Her eyes picked out every shard of glass with painful detail, the only sharp things at all in her vision. She had a handful of it now, her shaking fingers reaching for another piece and... it all crumbled to dust. She froze, wide eyes flickering over the piles of dust on the floor, closing her hand around the dust in her palm. She was blinking rapidly as she tried to register Kalt's voice, process what he said. Couldn't let him take... Her shoulders shuddered, as if her body was rejecting the memory, couldn't...    She reached her hand up, dust falling from it as she gripped the counter and pulled herself up to stand again. She needed to.. needed to focus, need to do something. Her heart was starting to skip over itself and into a quicker rhythm, and her teeth ground together as she tried to think around things she had fought to keep locked away. She couldn't breathe - he would have come to her sooner, would have taken what innocence she had left when she had been.. younger. Stop, enough, stop, stop, stop, she snarling at herself. Fucking stop. She snapped her eyes up to Kalt where he sat at his table.    He was reaching for her. She stared at his hand for a long moment, her lips parting as a choked breath left her. I'm sorry. Her eyes flashed up to him - sorry? Kalt did not apologize for things lightly, and never without meaning it. Her body moved forward, and her hand slipped into Kalt's grasp. The muscles in her hand feathered sharply, and her legs nearly folded under her, nearly sent her to her knees -    Her body wasn't hers anymore, not quite under her control. Her fingers held tightly onto his hand as she fought for balance - had her head had been spinning for a while now. "Stop being sorry," she said roughly, briefly focusing her eyes on him before they cracked and fell away again. His hand, his hand. Warm, rough fingertips and palms, broad, firm, sure - breathe. She had to drink down air, to try push away the dark that had overtaken her peripheral sight. Cold hands, cold.. cold everything, her face, her arms, her chest. Her blood had been replaced by ice.    Under the whip in punishment for keeping Master from her. Until... he had been away for a few days. Her ears started ringing. "Thank you," she murmured. At least, she thought she said it out loud. She couldn't feel her own lips anymore. She wanted to... wanted to go away. Out. Away. Her eyes flickered shut as she let out a shallow breath, her hand clenching down sharply for a second as she swore she felt rough, gloved hands slip over her skin beneath her shirt. His hand, breathe - She held tightly to him, but she couldn't quite focus. This wasn't her anymore, she wasn't here, didn't want to be in this wretched body.    "You...thank you." she repeated, but her words were slurred together with dangerously shallow breath - alcohol that was too strong or something different? His scars that she memorized like a map, they were from keeping him from her. She tasted something foul at the back of her throat in the same moment her entire body went numb, her vision flickered wholly black. She managed to catch herself, tried to take a plunging breath, but she had to keep her free hand against the table, fear rising like bile at the loss of control in her own body. It was worse when this happened, it made things worse, too much unknown; Don't faint, don't faint - ashe Isn't it strange that love is in the way? It never goes away.