Heartthrob

Esper James's heart was the glass remnant of a fallen champagne flute, fractured to pieces then ground to shards by an errant foot.

Purity, of course, was right. How could she have been anything other than right? How could EJ have refuted such an irrefutable claim? They had spoken of honesty - honesty between one another, honesty in all things, especially things pertaining to one another's fates. Purity had sinned, and was still trying to make amends even now - and Esper James had thought, not so very long ago at all - of her anger towards Purity for what she had done.

And yet, now, they were both awful to one another. There was still love, there could never be an absence of that love, EJ begrudgingly figured... but a love that held the taint of rot and sickness was oftentimes more painful than the absence of any affection at all. There are, of course, those who would believe otherwise; those who would believe that any love is better than no love at all. EJ had thought so, too, long before she had felt what it was to be known... truly known, by one who would call herself EJ's partner.

You never know what you've got, till it's gone - and you never know what you don't have, till you have it.

EJ sighed, but the sigh was caught on the latter half by the whipping, cruel winds of emotion; her voice's sails were set to flutter, the tone warbling and sorrow creeping in like winter frost. Soon, she was crying, joining her lovers in their display of raw, salted emotion. It hurt... it hurt so fucking bad, to know that she was the reason any of this was even happening.

Old daggers returned in her mindscape to stab at her once again, piercing EJ between the ribs and through the soft spots of her heart. The daggers took the shape of old doubts and self-loathing - wondering why she was even with Purity and Est, when they would be better off without her; wondering why she even met them in the first place, if all she could really do is make things worse for them.

The thought paths were not unknown. In fact, they were as oft-walked and familiar to her as the forest trails to a seasoned ranger, or the migratory paths to a long-lived deer. In a sense, that brought comfort... though the comfort only came in the sense that she knew what she was feeling, not to the degree of being able to do anything about it.

Do anything about it? Fuck, was she truly so awful that she began to feel poorly for herself, and her only instinct was to 'do something about it'? Maybe she should just tell Purity to lift her shirt, eh? Or have Est bend down and expose herself? Those seemed to be vogue ways for Esper James to clear her own conscience of doubt and worry recently. Little degenerate wannabe hedonist that she was, little... little fucking pervert, fucking deviant, taking such gross, disgusting pleasure and solace in the bodies of others.

They said ghouls were failed vampires, right? Ever so close to sanguine superiority, yet denied perfection by a fly in the ointment? Ascension prevented by the world's cruelest deus ex machina, some factor so rare yet so undeniable that it would prevent them from being what others could only dream of? Well, they must have been telling the fucking truth, EJ thought... because right now? She was feeling very much like a vampire. She felt like what she thought of Judas.

Disgusting.

EJ had been staring into Purity's eyes, watching her cry and ripping herself apart the whole time, but time had slipped away from her. Her dissociation was getting worse, she thought for the briefest of moments, before a new wave of her own tears stole her sight. She blinked hard to try and squeeze the saline sorrow from her ducts, but all that came was the first rain of a fresh summer storm.

Luca drifted away. He made no sound, no indication nor gesture, to announce his departure; EJ only noticed that he was even leaving because she could fucking see him open and close the door when again her eyes were opened. Whatever; it was probably for the best that he wasn't around to see this. EJ gave her ladies a great squeeze, though great only in the sense that it was forceful and insistent; as for quality, it could only be middling at best. She wasn't stable enough to give a good hug, just a passionate one.

The squeeze was returned by her partners. Purity's arms were gentlest of the three parties', but she was plenty loving and wracked with sorrow. It was an excusable thing, that she wouldn't crush Est or EJ like an industrial vice. Esthrielle, by contrast, was the steely gauntlet to Purity's velvet glove. Purity exclaimed in surprise, mild pain, and the slightest bit of confused excitement as her back cracked from Est's loving ministrations; EJ only continued to cry, the force of Est's embrace far too much for EJ to simply take without it dredging emotions from her heart's lake. To have hurt her so badly, and still receive such passion? Such gusto? Such enthusiasm?

EJ couldn't help but feel she didn't deserve the intensity of it all. She didn't deserve Est or Purity; she didn't deserve this convent, didn't deserve Luca's protection, didn't deserve Zofia's tears for her own injuries or the mother abbess's mercy or words of comfort. She didn't even deserve Judas's cruelty at this point; not the cruelty which was at least painted in a fun way, you know? She certainly deserved the abuse... but not the fun abuse.

EJ finally found the words to speak, her lower jaw wobbling like the tremolo of some musician's tool. It was hard to speak, but speak she did - for she needed to speak, she had to speak, because speech was the only bandage she could offer for the gashes she had opened on them all.

"I-I-I... I'm s-sorry, I'm so fucking s-s-sorry, you two... I... I f-fucked up! I fu-hu-hucked up, ok?! I admit it! I fucked up so b-badly, so very fucking badly, and now we're all f-fucked up because of me fucking up! I did something so fucking stupid I fucked everything and now you both have every f-fucking right to hate me!" Once she had finished her bid for most usages of 'fuck' in a single thought, she collapsed even further into her own melancholy and self-hatred.

Est's face rose up from where it was buried into the covers, now inches away from Esper James's; her brows were furrowed with fury and indignance, but her eyes were a melting pot of sadness and pain to be fondue for that rage. She sneered, and growled, and grimaced, and fought with herself like some brave warrior of old to try and get out the words to form her thought. Eventually, the dragon was slain - syllables flowed, and sympathy alongside.

"Shut up, EJ! Esper fucking James, you-! Don't you ever let me hear you f-fucking talk about yourself like that again, okay?! That's what got us here! That...! That self-pity! That self-loathing! That dejected, sadgirl, woe-is-me attitude! Wake th-the fuck up and look around yourself!" Before EJ could respond, Est pulled her face back - and slapped EJ, hard, across the cheek. It made a spectacular smacking sound, one that resonated ever so briefly about the fairly empty infirmary.

EJ reeled from the pain, bones all okay but a bruise already beginning to form. Her vision blurred for a moment for a reason other than the tears which blotted her eyes, though the stun from the blow was enough to bury her depressive musings beneath a mound of hazed mental faculties. Once she began to blink and really look like she was awake and aware again, Est continued.

"We love you, you perfect b-blonde idiot! You...! You are a wonderful person, an amazing human being whose heart I treasure taking partial ownership of... I... I-I... I love you, EJ. P-Please, please, stop... Stop thinking of yourself as a burden, okay? W-We know what we signed up for. We're... We're all in this together, you know?" Her tone faded from raw, untamed aggression down to the whimpering mewls of a kitten as she trudged through verbal sludge. Est tried to finish strong, but her strong finish was more akin to the pathetic whines of a newborn fawn or pup, innocent and vulnerable and begging to be protected.

EJ nodded, after a moment - a moment which was drawn out, it seemed, in her mind's eye. She was still reeling and swaying a bit, but she was just aware enough to know that nodding was the correct thing to do in that moment. She had to affirm that Est was correct... and then, as she focused every bit of herself on processing what Est had even said, she felt a strange flower grow, bud, and bloom in her chest.

Est was right, wasn't she? Est was so fucking smart. So very very very smart. EJ needed to learn to be... to be better to herself. To be better for herself. Est and Purity were strong women; they weren't little lost lambs like the blonde was. They knew how to put their own plans and ambitions into action; they would do what was best for them and those they cared about, because that's the sort of people they were. So. Why would they stay with EJ if Esper James was bad for them?

Oh, shit. EJ had never actually... never actually considered that before, had she? She had always been seeing everything through the lenses of her own experience - that everyone was secretly a submissive, sulky, deferential little girl, deep down. Everyone that liked her, at least. Everyone that she liked, too, that was nice to her.

Maybe that was a self-deprecation thing too, then. Imagining, or assuming, rather, that everyone and anyone who was nice to her was secretly just as lost and tender as she was. The assumption of weakness simply through the absence of dominance and greed. All she had known for almost all of her time on earth, of course, was dominance and oppression being the hallmarks of someone with power. Vitus wasn't exactly a breeding ground for philanthropists, or even decent, kind people. Why would she believe the world to work any differently?

But Est... Est was right. She was so very right, and Esper James only held back from beating herself up even further by the virtue of what Est had literally just said about that sort of behavior. She had to stop thinking of herself as a burden... had to stop thinking of herself as some sort of lead weight that held others down, that held others back. Est and Purity would leave if they didn't like her. She was expendable, if it came down to it. And so, perhaps the best plan was to simply continue on and trudge forth until such a time came as she was spent. Being cast off like a single-use razor or the wrapper of some gummy candy was better than being held like a thorny rose in-palm, right?

Right.

EJ nodded more emphatically now, finding words of her own which sprung up like the teeth which had almost finished settling in her own gumline. "You're... You're right, Est. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for messing this all up, and making the two of you worry, a-and hurting you both so deeply. I... I should trust you both more, to tell you when... Tell you when I need to stop, or tell me when you've had enough. It was...awful of me to go off and do all that without telling you. I... I shouldn't have lied to you."

She swallowed, then, and it was like trying to choke down a mouthful of superglue. It stuck and clung to her throat with the viscosity of honey and twice the thickness, a lump of coal coated in phlegm, a cannonball slathered with molasses. What she was swallowing, in that moment, was her own emotions - her own pain, she'd liked to have thought.

Not that she was without pain, but rather, that her own pain wouldn't... wouldn't affect how she interacted with her lovers. She wouldn't let it dominate her mind anymore, because she had seen all too intimately what one's own greed and pain could do when it trickled its cruel influence into one's treatment of those they loved. It could turn you into a monster; Esper James knew that she didn't want to be that monster ever again. She never wanted to hurt Purity or Esthrielle like this, ever, ever.

She forced herself to admit, in her heart and her cortex, that she wasn't abandoning it all completely. She wouldn't become cruel and unfeeling. She wouldn't hide her own emotions away from herself, or ignore them, or deny them. But she wouldn't let her own thoughts and feelings about herself taint the way she felt about those whom were closest to her. She'd never let this all happen again.

Est's jaw dropped more than slightly, and her eyes went wide - a fresh wave of tears formed as morning dew at the corners of either eye, and those very same tears fell hot and fast as their respective eyes shut. Est threw herself, then, into Esper James: her arms wrapped about the ghoulette, squeezing her nearly hard enough to cause even more bodily harm. The embrace (if one could call the crushing contact that) was more akin to an ill-thought-of attempt to press two bodies into one single being, or to sieve one torso through the other.

They two women fell onto the bed properly then, Esthrielle laying overtop of EJ, snuggling her so close and tight that a boa constrictor would be green with envy at her constrictive power. Purity, meanwhile, let her lips wobble from a distraught expression of grief up into a tenuous, pain-wracked smile, relief and delight rushing in. She threw herself atop the other two girls, then, and suddenly they were a lesbian sandwich. It was pretty cute. Objectively so, even.

And there they laid, bodies atop bodies atop cloth and comfort and pillow and plush. The infirmary was not disturbed at all in the hours that came to pass; the silent laying eventually transitioned to a group snuggling, each woman taking their place in this new bed. EJ didn't really need to stay in the infirmary anymore; she was healed, her regenerative factor more than enough to seal her wounds and fix her face, but... Well, when in Rome, right?

Hmm. Est was Italian. That was close enough to being 'in Rome', one could figure, right?

Ha-ha. Lascivious commentary about being 'in Rome' aside, they remained there as if mice caught in a glue trap - though they were far from uncomfortable. Malaise had long since faded, and now, it was just another place for them to snuggle up and be together. Just another place for them to share in one another's warmth and softness, and to hold and be held in turn.

Time's passage was cruel, of course, and there did come a point wherein they felt they needed to go back to their room. And so, up the bodies came, the habits were re-donned and brushed free of dust and dirt, and the girlies made their trek back to their dormitory. The shared room was exactly where they left it, and was completely undisturbed, it seemed. EJ thought hard as they walked, thought about what it had been like for the two other women to learn that Esper James had been shot. Had they been laying down, at least, when they heard the news?

She hoped they hadn't been doing something. The visual of a busy Purity, doing some exercises in the dormitory, then being informed EJ had been killed? Her legs buckling without delay, whole body giving out as the shock and grief and despair of the situation hit her with the force of a dozen-dozen tonnes of bricks, carried by a loose locomotive? The crying? The deep, guttural, primal sobbing, the ones that came ragged and painful from the raw emotion they forced up and out?

And Est? Est was... stronger. Not so strong as to be denied grief, nor pain... but strong enough that she wouldn't have fallen in onto herself, Esper James figured. She wouldn't have collapsed, at least... or, she wouldn't have at first. But she thought then to their first night together, the... the way Est had acted. The fear, the hesitance, the walls of her heart's fortress visibly being torn down with every word of love and reassurance she had been offered?

Est wouldn't have taken it well. There's no way she could have. These thoughts were naught but more fuel to Esper James's fire to ensure she never hurt them like this again, no... no matter what. No matter what she did, no matter what came of it, no matter what happened to her... She could never hurt her lovers like this ever again. She would rather die before she did.

A grim smile came to her lips as she sat on the bed, expression now tinged with wry self-satisfaction. She would rather die, hmm? Well, she had already died... twice now, right? What was one more death, if for their sake? For their sake in a newer, better way, she reminded herself... She had already tried to be a martyr once before, and now look where that had gotten her, eh? Gotten all three of them.

Whatever. Dark thoughts for a different time. She shook her head free of them, going to strip her medical gown away (it would have been hard to justify keeping her in her habit during her recovery, she figured) and slip into the bed the three had been sharing. Est came along then after a moment, snuggling their bodies up flush to one another, kissing at EJ's neck and then cheek in quick, amorous succession.

Purity made to join them after a moment, but before she did, she snuck her phone out from where she had been keeping it hidden in the wardrobe. Lots of messages, it seemed... lots to pore through. So very much attention was demanded of her, even now, but it wasn't so pressing as to be tended to on a daily basis as it had been before, when Tsang held her leash. But, still, it would be good for her - and for EJ and Est - to keep themselves abreast of happenings on the outside.

Kehler Complex was gone - an explosion, and a fire, it seemed. Terrorists again. One of them had been caught, however... and Executive of Biomedical Development, Judas Alighieri, was set to give a public statement on Wednesday. Purity couldn't help but wonder what that evil, cruel woman would have to say about it... and if it would be a live execution. Judas had always seemed the sort for a live execution, Purity figured.

The article was capped off with an image of Judas standing in her office, looking smug and sadistic, with a green-haired girl put to her knees beside the vampire. A chain leash was held in Judas's left hand, leading down to a thick leather collar. Puri didn't recognize the girl; EJ would have, but EJ didn't see the article. She was too busy trading sweet, loving kisses with Est.

Oh well.