[QUINN] Devil's Bitch

[tarquin finley ellis]

Quinn had felt Connor tense after the door was locked, thoughtful about that, not that it made him actually pause at all. Didn't make a difference and Quinn knows that Connor can't get away easily. Once the male was on the bad, Quinn watched Connor curl up and hide his face. Shoes were taken off and tossed to the floor before Quinn slid into bed, curling up around behind the male and reaching to flip the edge of the blanket up and over Connor. He supposed that he could sleep a little at this point, and he wasn't too worried that Connor would slip away. Quinn would notice if the male left the bed.

Quinn doesn't realize how messed up any of these little things are; his mind no longer draws those kinds of lines the same way. It's simply do as he wants, because there is no real good reason anymore for him not to. Quinn doesn't even feel worry that Connor might try to hurt him back; as far as Quinn is concerned, there isn't much more the male could do, even if he wasn't as weak as he was.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor trembled as Quinn curled up against him. The warmth of another body eased his shivers, but not his fears. Connor lost trust too easy, and Quinn had justshattered it. He was far too submissive to challenge the other, stronger male any further, would not dare get up. He was like a beaten dog, willing to obey and let its owner take whatever they wanted simply because it was too weak and frozen in terror. So Connor let Quinn curl up against his thina nd aching body, his own eyes closing as silent tears continued down his face. And eventually exhaustion had him crying himself to sleep.

[tarquin finley ellis]

Time escapes him as to how long he had slept. It doesn't matter to him too much, and he breathes easy at Connor's scent around him as his eyes open. Quinn isn't in a violent mood now, he is in that warped way; content. It's not the same as before, but that doesn't mean anything to him now. Quinn doesn't move for several minutes until the restlessness pulls him to move. He uncurls from Connor, stretching with a yawn and rolling to the side of the bed to get up. He runs fingers through his hair and glances around idly, thinking in that sleep ridden way one has when just woken.

Something settles in his mind at the sight of something, and curiousity rolls through him. It takes only a moment for him to decide on his next action, hand curling around a certain object that he really shouldn't have in his room. But this was Quinn, and he did have a bit of an obsession that couldn't be waved away. Something Connor might understand in a very different light. Quinn moved back to the bed, reaching down to wake the male with a shake to the shoulder and a few taps to the cheek. Whatever worked until Connor was awake. Quinn sat down in front of the male with a vacant expression. "If you were given an option to kill me, would you take it?" Even words, and he dropped a knife between them, watching Connor for a reaction. Quinn trusted his own reflexes if he needed them to block an attack, but he wasn't sure he'd want to.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor stirred as he was shaken, coughing huskily and rolling over with a tired groan. Quinn's voice, that had only days ago brought smile to his lips, had him tensing and shrinking away.
Something dropped onto the bed and he sat up unsteadily, bringing a hand to his spinning head.

A knife, and Quinn asking if Connor would use it against him. Connor doubted he coumightld see straight enough to use it anyway. But even if he had been able to, he knew he wouldn't have used it. Connor was too submissive when it came to being mistreated, thanks to his father. He shook his head slowly. All he wanted was to be cared about. Now all he wanted was to be numb, let his body give up. Even suicide wasn't worth it anymore, so killing Quinn sure as hell wasn't. He didn't want to hurt him...no matter what Quinn had done and still might do to he himself.

[tarquin finley ellis]

Days ago, any of the things he'd just done would have been horrifying to him. He wouldn't have been able to believe it, it hadn't been who he wanted to be. Life threw curveballs, and now Quinn doesn't think too much of who he used to be. He still clings to the things that life had in it to a point, but it's all twisted now. It had been corrupted and tainted. There isn't any alarm over Connor tensing and shrinking away from him, and Quinn doesn't worry or care that whatever trust had been between them was gone now. He had tired and he had failed and now he didn't care to earn what he took.

Blank eyes stared as Connor sat up and looked at the knife. Quinn waited to see what the male would do, but all there was had been the shake of Connor's head. There was silence then, and Quinn took the knife and laid it against his own forearm, pressing down and sliding the blade across. His eyes flickers at the blood -- it wasn't too deep or anything -- and he glanced back at Connor. "Shouldn't the sting make the other pain go away for awhile?" Just a question as he leans to put the knife on the nightstand, then returns to eyeing the blood, then Connor, trying to make more sense of this whole thing.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor watched him lift the blade and drag it across a wrist. He swallowed, unsure that he should offer help, that he would be punished for it. Even so, he reached out, his trembling fingers weeping around Quinn's wrist, fingers cool, his grip scarily weak. "I-it always comes back though..." He whispered brokenly. "All that does i-is give you scars like mine." He coughed huskily, gagging. Even after practically being abused by the make, he didn't date try and leave.

[tarquin finley ellis]

It doesn't seem to work for him, that much is already obvious. He could feel the raw sting of the cut, but it doesn't make him forget anything. If there is any feeling that comes, it is more like he feels more obsolete. Quinn doesn't even have anything to offer the world. Not skills or blood; there's nothing. He's a dead end and nothing can be done about it. Locked away here for life where he can contribute nothing, and then there's the sure truth that his bloodline shouldn't continue. There are too many faults with it. Far too many.

This life was all he had to offer, and he wasn't even managing that well. Everything he touched seemed to get destroyed in some way. He already tried to be better, to try and matter; and that had backfired horribly. He can't even wrap emotions over these things to feel anything other then empty. Trying to steal anything he could to make that hollow feeling go away for just a little while.

At Connor's touch, the way the fingers wrapped around his wrist, Quinn just looked on as if none of it affected him. He listens to the words and nods absently, eyes wandering around before focusing back on Connor. "I have some water..." The words are simple. Quinn would have moved to get it, but he wasn't ripping his wrist away from Connor just yet. Something deep down craves the touch, no matter how or why.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor shrugged. "I'm f-fine.." Honestly he was just terrified of moving, of screwing anything up. And his legs ached terribly, lower back. He shifted his weight with a grimace, pulling his wings a little closer than before. He reached with his free, shaking hand and scratched at his arm uneasily. Connor didn't know why he was in Quinn's room, why he hadn't simply tried and run while he could. He felt he deserved it for hurting the other male, even if it scared him to death.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He twitches a shoulder in response to Connor's words, letting it go at that. Doesn't matter to him if the male wants the water or not, Quinn's just as calm sitting here with his arm out, wrist held by those weak fingers. There isn't any valid reason for it, but it wasn't a forced issue and that might have been why Quinn wasn't eager to pull his arm away.

Still, he supposed that the day couldn't drag on like this, though he still had no clue what to do with the winged male at this point. There was that urge to keep Connor around, but then there was the fact that the male could end up dying in his room. Well, probably somewhere anyway, if he thought about it. "Are you going to die soon?" The words are blunt, questioning.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor raised his head, torn from his thoughts at the blunt question, and shrugged. "M-maybe,"He mumbled, shrugging. "Y-you don't s-seem to care nomore, so I-I have no reason to." He let go of Quinn's arm, gently running a finger along the mark to make sure it had stopped bleeding before he swung his legs to the edge of the bed so he could get some water.

He was barely on his feet before his legs gave out and he caught himself on the bed with a huff. Connor eased his weak body to the floor, eyes closing as he tilted his head back.

[tarquin finley ellis]

It's curiousity that has pressed him to ask the question, and he's not about to sugar coat anything anymore, so it's a blunt as it was when it ran through his head. At the mumble he starts to nod to show that he's heard it, but he pauses in the motion at the next words, his eyes narrowing sharply; gaze hawk-like. There's an annoyed hiss in reply to what Connor's said, upper lip curling in a pissed off sort of manner. "You didn't want me to care anymore, remember? I think you made that very clear when you tossed me aside." He snapped lowly.

He doesn't even twitch when his arm is let go, a finger ran down the cut. Not a muscle was moved when Connor made to get off the bed. Quinn just watches with those cold eyes as everything happens, not bothering to get up when the male was on the floor. He doesn't know what Connor is doing or why, and since he's obviously not needed, he ignores what's going on.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor didn't move off the floor as he thought over what Quinn had saw d. Pained tears fell day wn his cheeks, his body aching terribly both from hunger and from what had been forced upon him earlier. He huffed softly. "I was j-just afraid f getting hurt.." He whispered brokenly. "I got sc-c-cared..." He coughed, pulling his wings as close as he could and reaching to wipe angrily at the tears. If Quinn didn't want to accept that, he could do nothing else to change his mind.

[tarquin finley ellis]

Quinn doesn't need to look at Connor, doesn't have much of a reason to watch at all. If he doesn't want the male to leave the room then that's easy enough to ensure, but Quinn honestly couldn't care less what Connor did right now. The male was just taking up space, though Quinn didn't even mind that. He does finally glance down when Connor speaks, and there's a hard glint in Quinn's eyes, but otherwise he's only annoyed at this point. There isn't enough to be violent about, and Quinn doesn't feel that in these moments. "So instead of chancing getting hurt, you decided it was just better to hurt someone else; me. And look how well that turned out." He replied wryly.

Well, there were things he could probably do now that he didn't care on how Connor felt about it. He finally got up and paced over to his mini fridge and grabbed out a water bottle, walking back and holding it out to the male. "And you are going to eat something. I don't really care what as long as it's actually considered food. You will do your very best to keep it down, because if you don't, I'm going to strap you down to a bed and have them feed you through a tube." The words were cold, but he meant them.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor huffed, taking the water and working off the cap to take a sip. But he glared at the next words. "Y-you practically r-rape me and then say I-I have to eat? The f-fuck you care for?" But hurt glimmered in his eyes. He didn't want to push Quinn away, regretted what he had done. He licked his lips, setting the water down and attempting to get up again.

[tarquin finley ellis]

His temper flared a little at the glare, and he stalked closer, skin heated when the words had come. "The fuck do I care for? So many reasons, and you wouldn't want to hear them." Quinn replied lowly, glaring right back at Connor. He saw the hurt, but it wasn't doing more then registering within his mind. He twitches a little when the male attempted to get up, but he doesn't do anything about that. It doesn't matter, and Quinn isn't going to try and stop Connor from doing so.

He sighs, and it's an annoyed sound. "I don't want you to die. You'll keep holding on, and you might as well do it without looking like a pile of sticks. So eat." He adds quietly. It's some kind of mental struggle, trying to figure out exactly where it is he cares. But thinking about it just pushes him into seething. "You did this to me. You broke me, and now I want you in my hell." There was rage in his eyes now. Fire and fury. "A weak little thing like you shattering me. It's pathetic and I can't stand it." Quinn wanted to break something.