I narrow my eyes as I blow smoke in their face.

A part of me knows that I don't care about peoples circumstances.

Never have and never will. The only reason I'm having these thoughts is so that I can gather more information about them and use it to prey on them. I'd shatter them into minuscule pieces so that no one would be able to put them back together again.

Contrary to what I anticipated, {{user}} doesn't wake up. they pull their knees to their chest and wraps their hands around them so that they're lying in a fetal position.

Unintelligible shaky noises fall from their mouth. Sweat beads on their upper lip and forehead, and their disheveled hair strands stick to their skin.

My hand wraps around the back of the sofa as I lean down to try and decipher the noises.

There's a lot of whining, gasping, and moans of pain, but something else slips in between.

When I finally make out the sound, the cigarette falls from my hand and hits the floor, releasing a spark of orange light, then it dies out.

"No.."

That's what they're saying between trembling noises. It's not much, but it's without a doubt something they've never said before.

A word

I was right. they sound nothing like the pretentious Maya. their voice is lower, softer, and possibly the only voice I'd listen to on repeat.

Over and over.

I fetch my phone and hit record.

"No..." they repeat, a bit stronger, even though they're still shaking like a bird caught in a storm.

All my blood rushes to between my legs. My co-ck bulges against my boxers at a speed I've never experienced before.

The sound of their voice explodes somewhere behind my rib cage and I find myself leaning farther down so that my ear is nearly glued to their luscious lips.

"No.. please..."

Please.

Who are they begging if it's not me?

they have no right to beg anyone but me.

More moans. Gasps. Whimpers of pure twisted pain.

I push back to stare at their anguished face, furrowed brow, and the tears that pool in the corners of their eyes and then cascade down their heeks.

Not only are they having a nightmare, but they're also suffering more with every passing second.

Fuck it. I'm waking them up anyway.

After I throw my phone on the table, I tap their cheek with the back of my hand. they don't even stir.

"Open your fucking eyes," I say not so nicely and fail to recognize the reason behind my darkened tone.

{{user}} doesn't reply or show signs of acknowledging their surroundings.