Monsters

Kirg - Age 16: Confessions Part 1

Kirg found himself pacing in his bedroom, hand slipping into the pocket to feel the utility knife he'd started to carry with him. 

He knew it was messed up, so messed up, but aside from jerking, cutting was the only thing that seemed to relieve the pressure that built up inside of him, the only thing that let him focus and feel something--at least something other than self-hatred and anxiety. 

He'd promised Wren he'd talk to Ishka, and he intended to do that, had intended to do that as soon as he walked in the door this evening, but as time drifted on, he'd found himself backing out again and again. He'd failed to talk to her during their relegated study time, their chill (aka anime) time, and even during supper. Now it was after ten at night, and most of the residents in the house were settling in for the night. If he didn't talk to her now, he wouldn't get a chance. If he didn't talk to her tonight, he'd have to tell Wren he'd failed. 

"Arg!" he hit himself in the forehead. "Just do it, Kirg. Just go talk--you don't have to tell her everything. Just talk. It's not that hard. It's just Ishka." 

Sweet, sweet Ishka with the heart of gold and the soul of diamonds. So pure, so loving, so innocent. 

"Just open the door and go!" he demanded himself. 

He glanced at the clock. Quarter 'til eleven. The rest of the house was quiet. It was now or never. 

Steeling himself, he gently knocked on the suite door between their rooms. Nothing. 

"Ishka?" he called. 

He thought he heard her say something, so he quietly opened the door. 

Her room was almost completely dark, save for the soft glow of the reading light at her bed. 

He walked in, his eyes searching for and finding her on the bed. Her eyes closed, and she lay quietly, gasping softly.  

He'd waited too long. She was asleep. 

His shoulders slumped, but oddly he felt relieved. 

That was until her energy wafted to him. 

Lust. 

He blinked, completely shocked, looking around for the source, because of course it couldn't be Ishka. 

But there was nobody else in the room, and as he looked at her, he realized she wasn't asleep. Her legs were splayed, her face was scrunched up into a look of pleasure and concentration as her hands pressed and moved gently on the fabric covering her... 

What was that part of a girl called? Dark Lady had called it her pussy, but the word sounded and felt like vomit on Kirg's tongue, not something he ever wanted to associate with Ishka. They'd called it a vagina in health class, but that seemed too clinical somehow. 

Regardless, he saw her hand moving, heard her breathing accelerate, and though he realized what she was doing, the simple fact that it was Ishka somehow made it seem pure. Especially the fact that she was touching herself through her clothes, as if she dared not touch herself skin-to-skin. 

So innocent. 

She whimpered, and her hips shifted. He saw her legs quiver, and he couldn't help but watch, his eyes drinking her in. 

Why did this feel so different than anything else he'd ever seen? Why didn't it scare him even though he was surrounded in a fog of lust? 

He knew why. It was because it was Ishka. And Ishka would never hurt anybody. She just wanted to feel good. 

Judging by her face, she wasn't doing a bad job. 

He felt his body harden at the sight, the sounds, and he realized he really should leave the room. What she was doing was pure; what he wanted to do was not. 

"Kiiirg," she gasped. 

"Sorry!" he squeaked, realizing even as he bolted for the door that he'd been caught watching her.  

Her eyes shot open, and her hand flew away from her self. "Oh my gosh! Kirg! What are you doing in here?! How long have you been there?!" 

"Sorry!" he said again, retreating into his room and moved to shut the door behind him. 

He heard Ishka jump off the bed and knew she was following him. She reached the door before he could close it. 

"Kirg, what the heckin' heck were you doing in my room?!" she demanded, her face on fire. 

"I just wanted to talk, and...thought you were asleep. Uh, sorry I woke you." 

"I wasn't..." her eyes searched his, noting his flushed cheeks and how he looked away. Her shoulders slumped. "You saw, huh?" 

She looked so sad they he quickly rushed to assure her, "Hey, everybody does it. Well, except maybe Asher. I don't know how many times Bram and I have accidently caught each other." 

She looked away, her arms holding herself and looking so alone that it broke his heart. "I'm sorry you had to see that." 

He blinked at her. Was she kidding? Like it had been something horrible to behold? 

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one that barged in before you could finish." 

She reddened even more but glanced at him, "You aren't mad at me?" 

"Why would I be?" 

"Because I want... because my body... I'm not like her," she told him. 

"I never thought you were," he replied, still confused as to why she would think so. 

She quickly glanced at him and away, "So you're not mad at me for thinking about you?" 

It took a few seconds for the words to register, and longer still for him to believe what he was hearing. 

Thinking of him? While she did that? 

"You were thinking of me?" 

Horror filled her face, "I thought you already realized that--when I whispered your name..." 

So when she'd said his name like that, she had been... 

His erection returned quickly, pressing against the zipper of his cargo shorts; Kirg was glad they were tight enough and thick enough to hide most of the evidence. 

"No way," he shook his head. "You don't...Ishka? Were you really thinking about me while you touched...?" 

She looked completely humiliated, and before he could stop her, she fled back into her room, slamming the door between them. 

The door wasn't locked when he tried it, so apparently she hadn't thought he would follow her. Her surprised look when he walked in confirmed it. 

"It's nothing to be ashamed about," he whispered, trying to sooth the crying girl. 

She shook her head miserably, "I know I shouldn't think about any of that. I know after everything you've been through... and me being me, I know I'd never stand a chance with you, okay? I know that. You don't have to let me down gently or whatever. Just go to bed and leave me to die of humiliation." 

She pressed a pillow into her face and rocked, trying to rid herself of the anxious energy pulsing through her body. 

Kirg didn't know what to think of her jumbled words, but he had to find a way to get her to quit beating herself up. And there was one sure way to do that. 

He took a deep breath and admitted, "Ishka, please don't kick me out. I-I came here tonight because I need to talk. I--"

Her head jerked up at the emotion in his voice, and her eyes immediately filled with compassion, "Kirg? What's wrong?" 

There she was, his scorpion-tailed angel of mercy.

Tears gathered, and she was by his side in an instant, her arms wrapped protectively around him, and for the first time in what felt like too long, Kirg was home again.