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bluezoneFour cases of beer, a bet, and a dare. That was how it all started.
The beer had been Tecate and it'd been bought by someone's older brother, since not a one of them was older than seventeen. The bet had been that the Heat wouldn't win against OKC, and in fact would lose by at least fifteen points. The dare had been at the discretion of the winner. Aomine had had way too many of the beers, had claimed that Miami would win, and had scoffed at the idea that any dare would be too tough for him to see through.
A day later, while still nursing the worst kind of hangover, he was cursing himself, his asshole friends, and the fucking failure of the Heat defense for his current situation.
All-Saints Psychiatric Hospital hadn't been a hospital since the 50s; supposedly it'd just been records storage before finally being shuttered for good sometime in the 1980s. Now, it was a derelict ghost sitting on the edge of new suburban sprawl, it's crumbling facade obscured by trees, an overpass, a hill, and distance. Once you got past the high fence and heavy, bolted gate, you might as well have been in another world, one overrun with grass, weeds, twisted shrubs, and patchy trees. There'd been a cobblestone drive, once, now a river of potholes and ugly, standing water, and there'd been a grand entryway with stone steps and metal handrails, all of it twisted and crumbling now, reduced to crumbling concrete and rebar.
Inside, it's a fucking tomb. It's cracked tile and peeling wallpaper with long streaks of black mold; it's graffiti and broken glass, and rotted doors hanging off rusted hinges; it's a single, abandoned hospital bed, it's padding slashed open, laying on its side near a set of doors that says OFFICES. It's utter silence, except for a faraway dripping and Aomine's own pounding heart.
He just has to go to the second landing. The stairs off the main atrium were secure and sound, he'd been told, and there was an observation deck up top that looked down on the dusty, cracked reception desks. All he had to do was walk up, take a few selfies, make a video shot down the long, dark hallway toward the first ward, and then get the fuck out.
His hand tight around the smartphone in his pocket, Aomine hustled toward the grand, wide stairs littered with leaves and garbage, and pretended that he wasn't fucking terrified.
At the very least, it was still daylight outside; it was 10 AM on a balmy Saturday in Spring.
The beer had been Tecate and it'd been bought by someone's older brother, since not a one of them was older than seventeen. The bet had been that the Heat wouldn't win against OKC, and in fact would lose by at least fifteen points. The dare had been at the discretion of the winner. Aomine had had way too many of the beers, had claimed that Miami would win, and had scoffed at the idea that any dare would be too tough for him to see through.
A day later, while still nursing the worst kind of hangover, he was cursing himself, his asshole friends, and the fucking failure of the Heat defense for his current situation.
All-Saints Psychiatric Hospital hadn't been a hospital since the 50s; supposedly it'd just been records storage before finally being shuttered for good sometime in the 1980s. Now, it was a derelict ghost sitting on the edge of new suburban sprawl, it's crumbling facade obscured by trees, an overpass, a hill, and distance. Once you got past the high fence and heavy, bolted gate, you might as well have been in another world, one overrun with grass, weeds, twisted shrubs, and patchy trees. There'd been a cobblestone drive, once, now a river of potholes and ugly, standing water, and there'd been a grand entryway with stone steps and metal handrails, all of it twisted and crumbling now, reduced to crumbling concrete and rebar.
Inside, it's a fucking tomb. It's cracked tile and peeling wallpaper with long streaks of black mold; it's graffiti and broken glass, and rotted doors hanging off rusted hinges; it's a single, abandoned hospital bed, it's padding slashed open, laying on its side near a set of doors that says OFFICES. It's utter silence, except for a faraway dripping and Aomine's own pounding heart.
He just has to go to the second landing. The stairs off the main atrium were secure and sound, he'd been told, and there was an observation deck up top that looked down on the dusty, cracked reception desks. All he had to do was walk up, take a few selfies, make a video shot down the long, dark hallway toward the first ward, and then get the fuck out.
His hand tight around the smartphone in his pocket, Aomine hustled toward the grand, wide stairs littered with leaves and garbage, and pretended that he wasn't fucking terrified.
At the very least, it was still daylight outside; it was 10 AM on a balmy Saturday in Spring.
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Date: 2015-10-13 03:16 am (UTC)Aomine stopped speaking suddenly and that was even worse, even more concerning. "Are you hurt? I know it is uncomfortable but you should not hurt..." Her hand ran up, over the blanket and over his groin, peeling back the fabric to lightly prod at his stomach. Perhaps he'd pulled a muscle?
"Only a minute. Then I'll walk you and leave you to it. I do not suggest trying to squeeze out of the washroom windows. You would never fit." All the while she rubbed slow circles on his skin, resting her cheek against the inside of his leg and trying to be comforting.
"Do you like history? Arithmetic?"
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Date: 2015-10-13 03:57 am (UTC)He didn't know, he didn't know, and he was starting to panic again, his heart fluttering in his chest and his eyes squeezing together all the more tightly as, little by little, blood rushed to his cock. And how sick was that? He was full of...he was full, and it was awful, and he could feel a little dampness running down between his cheeks, just a little, as he trembled and tried to hold it all in. He didn't even think it was really helping his fever at all, considering he felt a warmth under his skin and trickling down his nerves, just to match the sweat on his brow.
With all that going on, Aomine knew better than to answer verbally.
He just shook his head, and kept his lips sealed shut. If he could just last until she let him go to the bathroom...
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Date: 2015-10-13 01:19 pm (UTC)His skin was flushed. His eyes were shut so tightly she smoothed fingers over his brow to try to relax the muscles in his face. "Daiki," She murmured, a sing song, sweet and gentle and the same sound that had lured him here in the first place."What is wrong? You have to tell me."
Fingers stroked down. Over his stomach where there was a noticeable little swell, pulling the blanket up to settle it more comfortably. He was sweet to watch. Perhaps he was simply so pent up it made him crazy.
Lia laid beside him, taking his hand and pressing it over her heart. A bit fast, but certainly not pounding like his was. She put her knee between his thighs, careful instead he decided he wanted to kick her. "We do not have to talk about school."
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Date: 2015-10-14 02:34 am (UTC)Aomine rolled because he didn't have the willpower to resist. He endured because he had the misguided idea that maybe, if he did, she would stop, and he could...something. He didn't have a plan. And he trembled because he couldn't help it, because she was so kind and so beautiful and even like this, or maybe because he was like this, all those things about her and everything about what was happening just took the choice away from him.
"St...stop. Stop touching me like...ah, god."
He turned his head the other way again and, after a brief, pained look, made his eyes close again.
"I'll get...hard. I'll get hard. You're making me - "
Made him, past tense. He had a nice semi under that blanket, warm and plump, in clear defiance of his ongoing embarrassment and discomfort.
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Date: 2015-10-14 02:42 am (UTC)Of course, her gaze shifted downward immediately. She couldn't really help it even if it was not the model of decorum or the mark of a lady to immediately gawk at someone's erection.
"It is alright...it happens. It is fine." The same words as before were bubbling to her lips. She touched the side of his face, feeling how hot his skin was and frowning. "You are a relatively healthy young man, yes? It is what happens to you."
She let him think that over for a moment. "Do you...wish me to help?" Because the thought of it also made Lia feel a bit warm, and a bit guilty. But mostly, she was curious.
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Date: 2015-10-14 03:44 am (UTC)He almost asked her that. Did it happen here? Often? How many people had she done this to, and had they all ended up like him? Is that why she was haunting this place? Because she'd done this shit to patients, and couldn't let it go? He almost asked, but didn't, in the end, because he lost the thought on a wave of shame and, fuck it all, arousal.
"Whatever...you say." It came out on a groan, almost bitter, and he didn't have it in himself to look at her.
He was quiet, though, after the offer. Quiet and tense, save for all the trembling. He swallowed hard, somehow terribly aware of her eyes on him, and clenched his teeth.
He wanted it. He knew that he wanted it. She'd barely touched him, last time, and in his mind, that had been less than an hour ago. His body was still buzzing with the memory.
"...what'll you do?"
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Date: 2015-10-14 01:29 pm (UTC)The trembling was probably making the cramping worse and she rubbed his stomach, rubbed over his hip like that could comfort him. Did he need more water to bring the fever down? No blanket?
It could be a dangerous place, living here. Aomine was strong and wild but that would only make him a target. Lia at least had tried to insist she was patient enough, that God told her to take care of him.
"What would you like me to do?" She countered gently. "I could...put you in my hand. Take you in my mouth. I do not think we should do more than that right now. You do not need to exert yourself."
He was sweet. She couldn't stop her fingers from touching the side of his face, trying to soothe him, to get the trembling to stop.
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Date: 2016-03-29 07:37 pm (UTC)Aomine's groin throbbed.
"My mouth."
His heart leapt up into his throat. He was hot, and some of it was likely fever after all, but a familiar cloying warmth was slowing his thoughts and softening the edges of his embarrassment and fear. He could imagine the fingers on his face and on his stomach settling elsewhere, and it was too much, it had been too much from the very beginning, and he swallowed, loudly, his head laying back a moment as he closed his eyes.
It was terrible. It was painful. He was humiliated by his position and humiliated by his need.
But he swallowed and said, his voice thick as he fought against his tangled, difficult emotions: "I do. I want...I want your...hands, your m...mouth." Fucker. Fucker. He hated how he stuttered, hated that it was so hard to just say. He clenched his jaw and his fists, his anger bubbling hotly, and felt a spasm in the bottom of his belly, his thighs trembling from the sudden reminder that aside from his erection, he was still bearing a considerable burden. He let his held breath out in a rush, his shoulders shivering anew.
"But the...stuff, the water, I'm still - "
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Date: 2016-03-29 09:38 pm (UTC)There isn't much time to be philosophical. Not with patients lined up to be treated and the blood and pain and grief. He's a reprieve from that because Lia believes, truly believes, that he will recover and he only needs a gentle hand and time.
"It is only water," She answers to his concern. There's a flutter of something in answer to his stutter. In answer to the way she sees his cock twitch and watches him squirm. It's something warm and creeping and sinful in her belly. Something that makes her uniform feel suddenly too tight in the chest and too short. And she's answering the concern of what it is, and what the result will be. He hasn't been fed in nearly a week, after all.
His hands are bound, still in their restraints, and that makes this feel all the more wrong. She leans so she's over him. Not between his legs but to the side, rolling him so his lower half is tipped away from the door and she kneels on his beside. "You want," She says softly. "I want..."
But there's a distraction. In the form of his erection, hard and leaking a bit from the tip and however much she had reassured him that it's normal it's still quite something to see. Her fingers graze across the hot, tight flesh lightly. Like a ghost. She circles the tip of him. Of course he must ache. Deep in his gut, between his legs, in his shoulders. She can do a little to ease it, can't she?
And it's a moment before she moves toward him, taking him into her mouth, letting him rest between her lips and on her tongue before taking more of his cock, slow and easy.
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Date: 2016-03-29 11:20 pm (UTC)He had a reason why he kept trying to make himself heard. He mainly understood her about the water, but his quivering pride clung to the awareness that he was only just barely holding it in right now. If they did this, while they did this, he would...what if he...he knew already he wouldn't be able to keep his concentration or keep the muscles between his thighs clenched, and if so...
"--haa, ah, a-ah."
But then it was gone, it was leaving him, she chased the thought out of him with her whisper, which to him is lewd and comforting in the same breath, and with the too-light dance of fingers across his skin. He's only ever felt his own hand; plenty of times, sure, but before, in the room, that was the closest he'd ever come to feeling someone else. That had been with a sheet; this was skin to skin. His taut thighs jumped the moment he felt her, hot sparks racing across his nerves, and he gasps openly, staring in shock, first at the ceiling, and then down at her, his eyes and his lips wet.
She was beautiful. It always came back to that. Her lips seemed so red, her cheeks dusted with pink, her hair curling gold at her temples. When she opened her mouth, he groaned, the sound of it pitched and pained. When he felt her the first time, warm damp soft, he made a whimpered sound he'd never heard out of his mouth mouth.
"G...god, oh god - "
He felt interior muscles quiver. Panic leaped up, clutched tight around his heart, but her lips were going down, down and down, and all he can bring himself to do is arch and squirm, pulling at his wrists, panting wetly as he watches her.
Still beautiful. Still impossibly beautiful, and now so erotic that watching hit him as hard as all the rest, the touch and heat and the weight in his belly and, now, terribly, his own helplessness.
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Date: 2016-03-30 01:40 am (UTC)At least he seems to enjoy it. Of course he would. She looks up at his face and rests a hand on the outside of his thigh, stroking and comforting. The other slips between his legs. She strokes what parts of him she can't get into her mouth. Jerks his cock off with a gentle sort of care as she takes more and more into her mouth, not wanting to go too quickly and gag.
Of course he'll feel out of control. It's how he's going to find his way back to sanity. You can't keep clinging to a ledge; you have to jump off. Though she knows this treatment isn't the most orthodox way of proving that.
It's easy to do. Let him sink more and more into her mouth until her lips are nearly at the base of him. Swallow around him. Palm his balls and squeeze lightly, coaxing. Listen to the shift of blankets and restraints and the water. All for his betterment, all to give him pleasure.
But Lia would be a liar to say she wasn't enjoying herself as well. The sweet little noises he makes and how inexperienced he is. How he she will be in his memory. So she hums around him, guiding him, showing him how to move to get more or less stimulation.
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Date: 2016-03-30 02:06 am (UTC)He can't keep himself quiet. He couldn't keep himself quiet the first time, either, but that had been in the dead and not, and not during the busier workday. He knew they could be discovered; he knew she was in a bad situation somehow, from the bruises on her neck and the look in her eyes.
But he couldn't help himself. He tried, fuck did he try, but the groans and the gasps spilled out past his lips anyway, especially when she added her hands and got so close. She takes in so much of him that it's shocking, because he knows he's not a small dude, he's been in enough locker rooms to tell that much, and yet she manages anyway, and her palms are so warm around his sack that he hisses from the pleasure. He's sweating, dampness catching under his knees and on his palms, but he's loose, too, relaxing, tension sliding out as she plays him like an instrument.
It means, as well, that after a few moments there's a faint dripping, a pat pat pat of droplets on fabric, before he remembers, before the reminder sets his muscles to seizing back up again, desperate and embarrassed.
"Fh...fuck, sorry, I - "
He shakes his head, crimson, his eyes squeezed momentarily shut even though he wants so badly to keep watching her.
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Date: 2016-03-30 02:37 am (UTC)"Let me take care of you, Daiki," She murmurs gently to him. As tenderly as if she were changing his bandages or helping him stand. She goes back to what she was doing, to fitting him into her mouth. Letting the head of his cock brush against the inside of her cheek before she guides him down again.
And she can help him out, at least a little. She presses a finger against that ring of muscle. So tense and tight with his effort to hold water inside him. Her head bobs up and down and that, too, makes noises. Wet slides and slurps, changing based on his reaction. Tongue prodding at his slit or dragging along the underside of his dick.
And if he loosens, if his muscles relax, she pushes a finger inside him. She's certainly done enough of those exams and maybe it will ease his tension.
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Date: 2016-03-30 09:04 pm (UTC)Aomine couldn't let that happen. He knew that. He knew.
But weakness crept up on him, pulling at his limbs and catching in his throat, and he gasped, and he whimpered, and he felt her finger rest on him at the same time that her lips slid over his cock. It felt in that moment like he couldn't do anything but rely on her; he couldn't move, could barely hold on, so what else was there? Who else was there?
"Fuuuck, fuck... Lia - "
It was the first time he'd said her name. The first time that she was a person, and not a ghost. He bit his lip and shuddered, shaken in some bitter, fundamental way, and relaxed little by little, bit by bit, letting her in, the passage eased by the water and the lubricant from earlier. Her finger, like her mouth and her tongue, was so warm, and the sensation of it was hideously intimate. He pushed his hips up as much as he could, following her lead, and even though it was so strange, and so awful, pleasure licked along his nerves, his cock thrumming with delight and left beads of precome on her tongue.
"Can I...I want to, come..."
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Date: 2016-03-31 12:52 am (UTC)It's a dangerous path. With him, at his age. With his nationality. With his stories about where he's from. But, God help her, Lia is enjoying this. The taste of him and the feel of him thick and heavy on her tongue. The way his muscles clench around him and how he rocks into her mouth. Even the sounds he's making and the way he's breaking and how nicely he's asking to...
She hasn't heard it put that way. Not really. She can grasp his meaning well enough, however. She has to pull off him to answer, leaving his erection wet and neglected but with her lips brushing against him, still. "You can. I will take care of you. I will see you out of here, I swear it."
Perhaps she should not be making promises like that. But he seems so needy in this moment, so helpless, that she would offer him the moon and stars.
All she can offer him, as it is, is her mouth and his orgasm. She presses her tongue flat, lets him slide against it. Into her mouth, into her throat to bump against the back as she swallows and sucks and drags her lips along his length. Her finger presses inside him, curls upward as she's been taught exactly not to do but knows how to do anyway, careful but certainly wanting to take that sad look from his eyes.
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Date: 2016-03-31 01:38 am (UTC)It started with a groan, and then grew into a cry, and then grew into something that someone with their ear against the door would be able to hear. The air had been so cold, just pure torture against his skin, and he had stared at her, panting openly, quivering under her, desperate for answer. God, he hadn't known what the fuck he would do if she had suddenly said no, and though she had not said no so far, not to this, it added a different layer a fear. She had so much control, she could leave him any time, just leave him hanging, leave him like this with no one willing to help him.
But she didn't. She didn't. She said the same thing she has said over and over again.
"I will take care of you."
Then he was in her mouth again, in her throat, down so far that it shocked him nearly to silence. But his voice came back, rushed back out in that grown, and shit, shit shit shit, she was, her finger, he squirmed, confused, and then lurched, shocked, twisting. It...it tingled, it panged, his burdened stomach did a flop, and it was almost like she had flicked the tip of his dick with her finger, except it was inside. His balls clenched up, pressed up against the base of his dick; his eyelids slammed shut. His jaw locked and his moans beat against clenched teeth and closed lips while he unloaded right into her mouth, hot and thick, over and over again.
It's good, a fevered voice moaned in his head. It's so good--
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Date: 2016-03-31 02:51 am (UTC)There had to be the reminder that he was young and that was cruel. She had to stop before he got too sensitive and he had certainly been loud enough and no doubt he would love to actually finish what she'd come in here to do.
It was with a sigh that Lia let him go. She pulled off him, wiping her mouth almost daintily. Her hair was dark with a little sweat, her cheeks a brighter pink, but she seemed professional as she carefully pulled her finger out of him and moved to rinse her hands off nearby.
She couldn't resist, though, dropping a little kiss on Aomine's forehead. "Can you walk? I can take you..." She gestured. To the toilet. Of course that would involve holding his restraints and him not giving her any trouble.
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Date: 2016-03-31 08:43 pm (UTC)He was coming down, but so slowly, so incredibly fucking slowly. The blood in his veins felt so thick, oozing through him and searing his insides from its heat. His balls ached; the tip of his dick felt spongy and soft. He was covered in sweat and yet was contrarily cooler, every muscle loose and shivering. He felt...strained. Wrung out. There were still little spasms going through his groin and coming had gone on longer than he was used to, or so his tired, fevered mind tried to tell him.
Maybe it had. It would have been because of her. When she moved away he made a small sound and let his head drop back, only to blink at her in exhausted surprise. Her offer, though, was one that he couldn't refuse.
"Y...yeah." He agreed, perhaps too quickly. In his mind, how it would all go was clear: she would let him loose and he could take care of it himself. "I can walk."
He wasn't so sure about that, but he wasn't about to say no.
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Date: 2016-03-31 09:16 pm (UTC)Her fingers undid the restraints on his wrists and she rubbed feeling back into his fingers and soothed the reddened skin on his arm. "Very careful," She advised him. "Very slowly. Stand with me and do not let go of me."
Part of her expected him to simply bolt. Toward the bathroom, toward a window, she wasn't sure which he'd head for first. She had hoped they built up a rapport but perhaps not.
She heaved him up, deceptively strong for her size, created by her profession literally being hauling people around sometimes. She took baby steps with him, waiting for him to find out how to function. How long had he been reclined, anyway?
Of course he was warm against her. He smelled good, strangely so with how he needed a bath. Unconsciously she ran her tongue along her lower lip as she walked with him.
The bathroom was rather small, which was fortunate in this case with her attempt to let him go, but remain close enough he couldn't fall and crack his head open. "Are you feeling alright? Light-headed or dizzy?"
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Date: 2016-04-01 02:40 am (UTC)"I'm fine. I can make it. I'm fine."
He wasn't fine, but the mantra seemed to bolster his efforts. It got him across the room, to the bathroom, and into the tiny, bleak stall. He was able to move his arms from her shoulders to the walls, brace himself as he eyed the painfully Western toilet. He'd have to sit, but he'd been living in America long enough that it wasn't so--
But she was still there.
The look he gave her, out from under the mussed, sweat mess of his hair, was half-pained, half-embarrassed.
"Could you...go?"
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Date: 2016-04-01 03:28 am (UTC)She pet his hair back, out of his face. "I will wait just outside. If you feel like you might fall, call for me. There is no sense in you busting your skull apart for your own stubbornness. And it would cost me my job, probably." Nothing like a healthy dose of guilt to go with the instruction, Lia decided.
After a moment, however, she stepped outside and shut the door softly behind her. She stood guard outside, trying to tidy her own appearance but feeling uncomfortably warm. Pressing her thighs together beneath her skirts did little to help the sensation. She wondered how difficult it would be for him to maneuver, as tall as he was. She wondered if some of his delusions had a basis in reality.
It was only a few minutes before she let herself back in. To help him, yes, but also to have a bit of privacy. Time to catch her breath. Time to lift her skirt at least slightly, up to her thighs where there was bare skin above her stockings. She didn't really look at him. "Are you still managing?"
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Date: 2016-04-02 01:17 am (UTC)She was right about everything, in the end. It was clear. Just water. The noise of it was humiliating in its loudness, all the wet and rushing, and the insides and backs of his thighs were wet before he was done. The water was warm by then, heated up by his body, and the sensation, the rush of fluid over the slicked ring of his anus--
When she came back inside, he was sweating a little once again, right in the middle of pulling a handful of toilet paper off the roll to wipe himself with. It was the first time he had had that kind autonomy in what felt like days and hours, and he was so engrossed by it and the tingling, prickling tenderness between his legs that she actually startled him. He jumped, just a little, and tensed up, but it was just her. Just Lia.
"I'm--"
Her face was still flushed.
"--okay."
He could see her garters again, the little metal clips shining as they caught the overhead light. Being as tall as he was, even while sitting, he was a little higher than her waist, but still, the view was...
Aomine felt a familiar, hot stone drop into his gut. It was no surprise. Despite everything he'd been through, he was still young, still in good shape.
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Date: 2016-04-02 01:53 am (UTC)It wasn't working, really. She swayed and flipped her skirt lightly, like the movement of air would help anything. Fingers unbuttoned the neckline of her shirt and she realized her heartbeat was fast and her breathing as well.
"Only...finish up. Then I will help you back to bed." She tried to make her tone seem normal, not breathless and heated. She could imagine what was wrong with her but she didn't want to entertain the impropriety of it. She had been helping Aomine, helping him keep his sanity. Of course with his age and sex he had every excuse for deviant behavior of his body. She did not.
"I do apologize. I swear I will take most excellent care of you." Just as soon as she could make herself presentable again. At least she turned around to offer him a smile.
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Date: 2016-04-02 02:27 am (UTC)He hadn't gotten to touch her the first time. He hadn't gotten to touch her this time, either.
Fucking don't. It's not fucking real. She's not real.
Time was still tangled in his head. To her, it was...days? Over a week or more? To him it was just crawling into evening outside. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours. It was all happening so close together and with so few breaks in-between.
You have to get out of here.
Maybe he really was going crazy. "Lia..."
He was taller than her. It was the first time he'd been able to stand around her and when he pressed up against her back, he covered all over her. It was easy to reach around and underneath her arms; it was easy to tentatively slide his hands over her breasts. He'd wanted to since the moment she first undressed in front of him, just like he had wanted to rest his face against her hair, lightly, just to see how it felt and how it smelled.
It was nice. She felt good. She was warm, and when he pressed in with his fingers slightly, right at the peaks of her breasts, she was so soft.
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Date: 2016-04-02 02:42 am (UTC)Not that she would have. In her heart, Lia knew she would have stood as still as she did when she didn't see him coming. He had appeared simply. A young man of fighting age left to them with no family and nearly no help. In a crisis, in a war...
Her breath caught as his arms slid around her. He really was huge. Tall and a little puppyish but in a way he would most definitely grow into. His hands were large as well and she wasn't so certain who had a fever any more with the way that felt.
It would be protocol to call out for help. More than that she should remove his hands and promise not to speak of it only if he never does that again. She did neither, simply freezing in place for a long few seconds before she relaxed. Before she, God help her, pressed back a little against him. She could feel his bare skin against her thighs and so close to her bare skin on her chest. "Daiki," She answered back. She couldn't find a firm tone or a commanding presences. "Daiki, you should go back to bed."
And she? She should hide in the bathroom until this passed and then flee. Lia could not find it in herself to do the right thing. Not for the first time.
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