ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ғᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 🗡 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ || ᴜɴᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴏᴜs x ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ⁽ⁿˢᶠʷ⁾

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You awoke feeling so profound, bliss and devastation share hallowed ground." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ To say that the day was rife with Cleo buzzing around like a little bee was an understatement; she drove back and forth from the dorms to the shops at least four times, each with her arms full of long boxes, short boxes, boxes that she had to drag up the stairs, into her room, and sit on the floor for a while afterward to catch her breath. Significantly more energized than when she awoke, Cleo was quick. Efficient. Quick enough, unfortunately, to have forgotten that her door should have been locked. Not that she’d locked it intentionally, but at the very least she had been so distracted with getting everything in its place as quickly and perfectly as possible, other details had been entirely and fervently overlooked. The final time she returned and had set out again, Cleo struggled to carry a large - and incredibly heavy - package she’d gotten from the post office with the soft plastic handle of a new comforter set in her mouth. Promptly and unceremoniously throwing everything either on the bed or floor, Cleo would pat down her clothes, look around, and leave again. After having been satisfied with what she obtained at the stores, it was time to head down to the Fresher’s fair. It was the least she could do - she did, after all, want to stay out. The longer she was in her room, she reasoned, the more likely something would go wrong. Something that would be forever out of her control regardless of how hard she tried to keep a hold on it - on herself. That was what made her the most nervous. How easily had Leeroy made her tremble? Why hadn’t it solely been through fear - through dread? Why had both of those heavy emotions melted into something hotter, more lewd, and agonizing? And why did she let him? Sure, Cleo could say it had been from leftover trauma - in fact, she swore that it was, but the blutterflies flipping in her stomach were whispering a deeper, darker story. It was a story she clearly didn’t want a part in. Right? So why? Thus, she did everything throughout the day to keep from spending too much time in her room. Within her efforts was a wholehearted attempt to keep from answering those questions, but also to keep from thinking about what had happened the night before; the physical pain, the sexuality of it, the confusion and guilt - the fact that the entirely wrong face had appeared in her dreams and in her fantasies. Each and every time her thoughts wandered and his face appeared, she would be reminded all over again. His voice would play in her head as if on a loop, and the unwelcome weight of need would settle in her core all over again. But… Cleo reassured herself that she would have to endure the entirely new torment for only a year. Just a single year, and then Leeroy would graduate and she would be free. Just like before, and this time… for the rest of her life. In the end, Cleo’s return was imminent. Her final entrance into the dorm building just after 4pm was more sluggish than before, and she just as slowly entered her room, arms full of commodities from the fair. Everyone just… shoved them into her arms, trying to talk her ear off about clubs and classes and professors. It was fun, but entirely exhausting. But the woman had things to do, and room to organize. Soon enough, her earbuds were in, music blaring with an alarm set on her phone so she didn’t lose track of time as she opened boxes, put together a bookshelf, metal clothing rack, and a cube storage unit. It took time and a significant amount of cursing since she only ever watched whenever her Papaw set up new furniture for her. She stripped and remade her bed, put dirty clothes in the new collapsible hamper and clean clothes on the rack before finally opening the package that was priority-shipped from home. This time, setting up her soundboard and second laptop took only minutes, the action having become second nature, and Cleo allowed herself just enough time to look around her room, ensuring that she was indeed satisfied. It wasn’t home, but it would have to make due. With at least fifteen minutes left until her alarm would sound at 6:55, she settled once more on the floor, this time organizing her self-care items in the cube shelving. In a normal world, Cleo would have called her grandparents. However, that was something she did far earlier in the day - and received an earful from her grandmother, conversation eventually moving on to both everything else and nothing at all yet full of laughter all the same. Once more it felt like she was lying to them when she said she was okay. That she was just homesick. Just like before. Cleo couldn’t tell them. They didn’t even really know that Leeroy existed, let alone that he was the instigator of everything she’d gone through, nor could they ever know that she was once again chained to him like some kind of pet in a cage. They only knew that she had been thoroughly affected all those years ago, becoming a shell of who they knew, and who swore that nothing was wrong… and it had come to a head eventually, all accumulating into the moment that she couldn’t hide it anymore and they’d been called to the hospital as a result. With a sound, far too similar to a squeak, of surprise, Cleo’s clearly obsessive - and delightfully therapeutic - organizing was violently halted when her music and her humming cut off to make way to a high pitched alarm that blasted into her earbuds. Cursing under her breath, she took as short of a time as she could setting everything further to rights; placing her phone and earbuds on the desk, leaning the boxes her various things were in near the door. Finally, with a single breath to calm the sudden nerves that overtook her, she exited her now perfect little sanctuary and made her way to the showers. For a long moment outside the doors, Cleo wasn’t sure if she should just walk in, or to wait. So, for fear of being late, her hands raised with one pushing the door open while the other knocked faintly, nose scrunched in mild distaste at the simple fact that Leeroy would either be waiting for her, or joining her shortly. She highly doubted he held himself to the same punctuality imposed on his victim, but with only a day having passed since he came back into her life with such an engulfing presence, she still couldn’t even hope to truly expect what she used to. ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Keith Logan]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I crave the darkness in you, for it is where I feel most alive." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ Leeroy wasn't one to forgive nor forget easily. And that was why he still felt the raw emotions of yesternight eating him slowly from within the following day as he went about town. He couldn't help it. Fucking heart.​ Years of being implicitly socially outcasted made him an incredibly jealous person. Why can't he get the attention that he wanted from people? Why was everyone getting it right, and him, wrongly? It was a vicious cycle of him chasing for the limelight aggressively, which in turn, made people pull away from him. And he was in too deep with the reputation that he had for people to believe he was capable of being nice. He tried being nice for a while before. But he could sense an air of distrust and uncertainty coming from his peers. So he gave up, figuring it was not going to work. If only he persevered on, maybe he might have stood a chance at starting afresh. So back into the cycle he went, chasing something that was only slipping away further from him the more he pressed. Bullying gave him short term relief of gratification in exchange for long term damage, very much paralleled to the effects of the consumption of recreational drugs. Cleo was a drug that pacified his predisposition like no other. How much a day can do to completely turn a person's life upside down - unbeknownst to her, their reunion has affected Leeroy as much as it had affected her in some ways. The irony was that one had a niggling positive fire that she was so desperate to suppress, while the other, suddenly needing to deal with a heavy heart that was dampening his mood throughout the day. She was supposed to be upset, and he was supposed to be thrilled. Evening couldn't come sooner for the lad. He needed to see Cleo, again. The day had been expensive, like, expensive. There was a fleeting moment when he asked himself what on earth was he doing, spending all these money on a girl - it wasn't even to impress her! But his heart always eventually concluded that it was all worth it, that it was money well spent. He settled down his haul at about five in the early evening, and got to setting up some of his purchases that Cleo would come to know in times ahead. At some point, he could faintly hear the sounds of Cleo returning, of footsteps against the creaking corridor ground. But his pride decided not to interfere with whatever she needed to get to until 7 - he wanted to maintain that image of composure and control everyone knew him to possess, even though deep down, he knew it was all an act for the longest time. By 6.45pm however, he was already sat by the common wooden bench that was placed between two rows of shower cubicles. The showers weren't dirty. In fact, they were dry and squeaky clean. They were just old and uninspiring. Each cubicle as surrounded by tiled concrete dividers, with no more than opaque curtains to cover, except for the last two cubicles at the end of each row, which were twice as big, presumably for the handicapped. Those two came with plastic doors for whatever reason, with a metal hook for a lock. At 6.57pm, he finally heard the main door of the shower swung open. And in came the sight that he very much desired. He could not contain a certain faint, brief, lob-sided smile that came through the right of his lips. He stood up, and walked over to Cleo. Wordlessly, he reached beneath her skirt, grabbed her panties by the front, before ripping it apart with one swift motion, then tossing the now useless piece of fabric onto the floor. By now, it was becoming a recurring theme. It was almost as if he was attempting to let her know through his actions, that it was only a matter of time until her underwear would be a non-existent item in her wardrobe before the end of the month, at the rate things were going. He turned his back against her, and walked back towards the row of cubicles, then stopping by one somewhere by the midway line, before he turned around again to address her. "Come here, Bunlet." "Strip." "And get in there." He tilted his head briefly towards his chosen compartment in gesture of where he expected her to head into imminently. Oblivious to her, was that Leeroy had perched a camcorder onto the soap holder by the opposite facing cubicle. While it was in plain sight, Leeroy had opted to darken the environment by turning off all lights, which went a long way in shrouding the device in partial darkness, making it hard to notice unless one truly squinted their eyes in the given direction for more than a few seconds. Illumination of the area relied on that of the almost setting sun, rapidly reducing in luminance, that came through from the single row of windows by the top of the walls on three of four sides, perpendicular to the ceiling. ​ ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You awoke feeling so profound, bliss and devastation share hallowed ground." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ Greeted first in darkness only cut by the ever diminishing light from the windows, the shower rooms held an ominous air, but Cleo had stepped in regardless, footsteps shuffling until the door swung shut behind her. Eyes having only adjusted to the darkness, Cleo took a step back upon seeing his approach. She had been prepared more for a day like the one before; bracing, biting back whatever sound of pleasure pain that threatened to escape, and then promptly being dismissed as if nothing had really happened. As if she were merely an afterthought. What she didn’t expect was the moment nervousness overcame her and her foot shifted back once more in retreat, was for her to be jerked to a halt. A tug at her hips instinctively had her hands trying to shove at his hands, fingers briefly wrapping Leeroy’s wrists as they tore her panties in a single motion only to slip away as they were thrown to the side. Not a single sound of surprise left her but there were two conflicting emotions that were simultaneous in those moments as her fingers clutched the hem of her skirt - indignation and resignation. Of the two, the former had won if only for a moment, but it was a long enough moment that Cleo couldn’t fully stop the visceral reaction that had been dragged out of her. “What the fuck - are you kidding?” Immediately her hand clapped over her mouth and Cleo visibly grimaced. Even if she was appalled at the fact that not one, but three pairs of her undergarments were now going to be in the garbage, she shouldn’t have let it slip. Even if they were new, or her favorite, or that she was now down three days worth of panties in 24 hours. Cleo should have swallowed those disrespectful little words, especially considering just who she was speaking to, as unknowing as she was of his untoward plans for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that..” Though she was highly doubtful that Leeroy would let it slide, Cleo had to at least verbalize an apology even to his retreating back. She knew better, but it seemed her mouth had a completely different idea. Already imagining how she was in fact digging herself into an even deeper hole and dumping dirt back over it with her entire future inside, Cleo bent to pick up her now shredded undergarments. Tossing them closer to the door, her off-the-shoulder blouse and skirt followed along with the rest of her outfit - socks, shoes, and belt. Did she have an attitude issue now? Even when she was angry, Cleo had never reacted as instinctively to something that she considered unfair as she had upon his actions. Was she finally fed up? Was it because she spent her own money on those? Was it pent-up anger? Frustration at being told what to do? Even the possibility of sexual frustration was on her radar at that point as she tried to reason herself through her reaction. Finally, the exposed young woman sighed and turned, arms wrapped around her torso in an attempt to cover at least some of her modesty. She was thankful for at least a small bit of shadow Leeroy had afforded her, though the windows were doing their damndest to prevent it. At first, Cleo hesitated, indecision clear on her face, but before long she was almost cautious in the movements that brought her closer to him. She thought that she’d done nothing wrong - except for that little kerfuffle she had just committed - but in her memories Leeroy had been so fickle with everything she did that Cleo was suddenly certain that she had something to apologize for. That, whatever it was that Cleo had somehow done, she was going to give him the apology he wanted, whether she wanted to or not. Just like that, heart-pounding and limb-weakening adrenaline sang through her every cell, those butterflies she fought so hard to ignore over the last day settling once more in her lower stomach to urge her slowly forward. Slowly enough not to seem eager, but quickly enough that Cleo certainly wasn’t happy about what she unwillingly felt in Leeroy’s presence. With eyes trained on his form as if unable to look away, she finally passed Leeroy to enter into the shower stall, spinning to back the rest of the way in. One hand traced along the tile so she knew exactly where it was and she wouldn’t accidentally let the coolness of it touch her. Satisfied that she was a sufficient distance from the cold tiles that she wouldn’t freeze, Cleo returned her hand, arms crossing over her bust. “So,” She began, pausing for a moment as she mulled over the wording. “What did I do wrong today, Sir?” There was a fraction of spite mixed in there, as if having time away had let her mind steady itself, though she was still almost entirely unwilling to challenge his instruction ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​