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Snippet #2353652

located in Tearmainn for the Mad, a part of This Animal I Have Become, one of the many universes on RPG.

Tearmainn for the Mad

Asylum

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damian Mason Character Portrait: Tristan Kenin
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Nodding as she bid him farewell, he didn’t bother to look up again, just focused on the words written down on discoloured paper in his hands. The book he was reading was a light romance novel, which wasn’t exactly his style but it at least kept him entertained for a little while. Damian was a slow reader anyway so this would keep him busy for the next couple of days. Sonya had most of his attention though, especially as she was stopped by another patient and conversed with them to which he couldn’t quite catch onto what they were saying. His vivid green eyes constantly shifted from the book to the two of them until he finally spotted the trickle of blood running from between her fingers as she held her arm. An eyebrow was raised and the book became nothing more than an object which he held within his hands. Did she just cut herself or did the patient do so?

“Holy shit…” he bit his lip and squirmed on the hard couch he was sitting on, trying desperately to repress his urges this time, but damn, Sonya was hot enough already without bleeding. It brought back the memories of when he raped his colleague and cringed. Reliving something like that now would surely get him arrested for life without any help for his so-called addiction. Damian forced himself to look away, his fingers scraping against the plastic cover of the book which he now held so closely to his chest, clinging to it as if it was his pure life support. Already he could feel his blood pumping and a growing tightness down below. He couldn’t help but imagine the doctor bent over that glass table in her office with him so ruthlessly pounding into her. Or even having her pinned down against the leather couch and sucking her arm dry from the fresh wound created only moments ago. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…” he cursed under his breath and leant his head back, releasing a muffled groan.

Fortunately, before he could take any further action, the doctor left and her attacker was dragged out of the recreation room by the nurse who always seemed to get in his way. Everything seemed quiet after that and Damian dared to open his eyes, staring at the spot there had just been standing in. His hunter green eyes searched the tiled floor for any spots of blood, but found nothing, much to his disappointment. Heaving a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped and he fell limp back against the couch, just trying to will away the thoughts clouding his mind so that he may return back to normal and once more resume reading. Eyes closed once more, his head tilted back against the back of the couch and his back arched.

What caught his attention next was the words spoken to him in a quiet voice he almost recognized. Damian lifted his head and opened his eyes to stare at the blond boy standing in front of him, looking anything but amused right now, and all he could offer in response to his words was a roll of the eyes. Did he really believe that just by telling him not to be turned on by her was just going to stop him?

“I can’t control my urges,” he stressed, shifting once more on his seat and placing the book over his lap to hide the hint of his ‘urges’. “Besides, why does it bother you anyway, kid?” Once again he rolled his eyes and folded one leg over the other. “Are you jealous of her? I thought you were a psychopath, you know, one of those people who can’t feel anything.” Truthfully it came out a lot harsher than he intended. The fact that Tristan was a psychopath actually quite interested him. Perhaps that was the reason why he could hurt himself without feeling much pain. To say Damian wasn’t keen on trying that for himself would have been a lie.

That was when the idea hit him.

Glancing around, he noted that the most problematic nurse was gone for now, meaning he might be able to get away with something. Looking back towards the blond, he smirked at him in that devious way he had. A tell-tale smirk screaming that he had a plan.

“How about you and I go to my room for a bit?” he said, this time leaning in and much quieter.