Bastian

“Enjoying the sensation of misery, I see,” Bastian said, with the cigarette still clamped in his lips.

   Odette stared at him with bloodshot eyes. They had mingled like rutting animals most nights, but this was the first time they had properly looked at each other. Each night Odette had to listen to his insults and ridicule, making her feel pathetic and small.

   “If you want to freeze to death, I suggest you try a little harder, take the extra steps,” Bastian gestured out the window, “there’s a whole sea of frigid water out there that would welcome you.”

   Odette glared at him as her teeth clenched to stop them shivering. “I’m not going to give up my life for someone like you, now, if you have nothing more to say, please leave.”

   “Save your foolish breath,” Bastian said, tilting his head slightly. He still wore a smile, but his eyes were cold and intense.

   Odette trembled and averted her gaze.

   Enduring this torture was what made her a fool, but it was better than letting the seeds of misery sprout. She only had to endure it long enough for Tira to get married and flee across the border.

   “Just go,” Odette said weakly.  She didn’t want to engage in unnecessary arguments with that man in her current state.

   Watching Odette for a moment longer, Bastian finally turned and discarded his cigarette into the sink and washed his hands, then approached the bathtub to turn on the hot water. He then went over the fireplace and built up a roaring fire in seconds.

Odette was still huddled beneath the shower, trembling, watching it all, not saying a word. She was even more shocked when Bastian tossed all his clothes onto the floor and returned to her side, wrapping her body with a warm towel.

He strode across the bathroom, carrying her to the bathtub that has been filled with hot water. Odette screamed as the sound of the splashing water disrupted the silent of the autumn night. She felt the warmth slowly seep into her, but made the chill in her bones more pronounced. She never realised she had let herself get so cold.

Bastian hugged her tight, as she sat between his legs, and bound her. He tidied up her crazed mess of hair and checked her temperature by moving the back of his hand along her body. As his hand moved like a snake below the water and past her navel, Odette convulsed.

   “Stay still,” Bastian said as a cold command. He wrapped his arms around Odette and started caressing her belly. “I hope you are not planning on leaving any time soon, it would be a terrible burden to run off and leave your child, but if you are adamant on walking such a path, I won’t object.”

   His deep voice tickled in her ear and even now, his hands tickled across her belly like he was already feeling for a baby’s movements. Odette endured it, keeping her eyes closed tight. She needed to remain humble, give him no reason or excuse. She had to wait for the right moment, when he would lower his guard, just like when she stole the documents that brought about this tragedy.

   “Aren’t you afraid of me?” Odette asked.

   Bastian smiled like Odette had shared an amusing joke. He turned off the water, which was now lapping at Odette’s chest.

   “I betrayed you,” Odette continued. “You’re dealing with something very important right now, confronting your father again.”

   “So?” Bastian replied lazily, his hand firmly on her breast. The softness in the palm of his hand filled him with a pink haze, it was hard for him to resist the temptation of her flesh.

   “Well, keeping someone like me around, someone that had already betrayed you once…” Odette finally let out an unbearable moan as Bastian started to roughly play with her nipple. “Do you not think that’s kind of foolish?” She managed to finish what she was saying with a whimper. 

She prayed for Bastian to regain his once cold rationality, but all she got was a mocking sneer.

   “Why, have you received a new order or something?” Bastian pulled Odette into him. “You can go ahead and do as you please, I think it would be very entertaining.” He lowered his head and started sucking her breast, and as he lingered, she clutched his shoulder to support her body. Every glance they shared stole her breath away.

   Could she really escape from this man? 

Consumed by despair, Odette trembled at the thought of Bastian’s ruthlessness towards her if she betrayed him twice, chilling her blood. But she couldn’t live like this anymore. She had to do something, even if it meant doing something insane.

   “Worry not, Lady Odette, I can be quite generous.  I can even sleep with a dog I hate if it pleases me.”

   As she stared up at the man who bore a flat smile, his large hand descended down her back and gripped her buttocks firmly. Unable to fight off his forceful entry, she withered and sagged into him. 

Embracing her Bastian entered her without hesitation. His gown, discarded on the floor, was quickly drenched by the water spilling from the bathtub. 

He hoped she would get pregnant soon. Once her belly was round and the child born, his desire and hatred would be satisfied, allowing him to wash it all away. Then, he could throw  everything: the memories of those foolish days and the remnants of corroded emotions.

  Having lost all self-restraint, Bastian held Odette and started moving wildly. Water splashed onto the floor, soaking the clothes and towel that had been discarded there. The woman that had been like ice, was now blazing hot. He laughed as he pumped, laughed so loud he felt like he might have gone mad.

It didn’t seem like a completely wrong decision. 

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Sandrine lowered her glasses and delicately unfolded her fan, while the singer on stage’s melancholic aria scratched at her nerves. It was a decidedly boring opera performance.

   “You don’t seem to be in the mood, is anything the matter?” A whisper of a voice reached her, before she had the chance to consider getting up and leaving.

   Sandrine turned her head as she let out an exasperated sigh, and came face to face with a sweet smile, reminiscent of the young boy it once belonged to. As she looked at Noah, a hint of disappointment lingered in her smile.

Twenty one. no, it was twenty two. 

   Noah Hoffman was a budding artist from the southern countryside. He was a decent enough lover, good looks, a pleasing physique and a friendly demeanour that knew how to handle people. He wasn’t a great painter, not enough to be a real success, but his way of life was certainly worth using, but he was no match for Bastian.

   Ever since that man’s rejection, she decided to accompany Noah out in public a lot more. It was an attempt to provoke Bastian, to get a reaction from him, though she had the faint inkling that even if he did know about her going out with Noah, the cold, heartless bastard wouldn’t lift a finger.

   “Shall we go?” Noah said.

   Sandrine simply closed her fan with an ambiguous smile and shook her head. She didn’t feel like socialising with this man tonight.

   “What of your recent works?” Sandrine said, trying to hide her anxiety.

   Noah got excited almost immediately at the thought of talking about his latest exhibition. It was full of the dreams of third rate painters, or so Sandrine thought, and although it was unremarkable, it would certainly be better than this opera.

   Just as he was about to speak, he pointed quickly. “Oh, look, Franz Klauswitz is here.” He pointed to a box diagonally opposite from them. Bastian’s half brother was there with his fiancee and both families.

   “I thought he was taking after the family business?” Sandrine asked.

   “I don’t know, but he is our patron. He provided the studio and helped with the exhibition. He doesn’t do it himself, that I have heard of, probably because of the contention with the family business.”

   “Well, he is quite the delicate young master.”

   “Oh, by the way, I heard something very interesting about Franz,” Noah said, lowering his voice as if they would hear him over the distance, and the singing. “He always locked his studio doors when he works, but one day, he forgot to do so, so we snuck in to take a look and found several paintings of the same woman. It was Bastian’s wife, every single one of them.”

   “Bastian’s wife, are you sure?” Sandrine’s eyebrows shot up her forehead.

   “Absolutely. I even checked against a picture in an old newspaper, it was definitely her.”

   “Maybe she was an attractive muse.”

   “Perhaps, but being that obsessed seems a bit strange, and no matter what, if people saw those paintings, it would cause quite the scandal.”

   Sandrine locked him with a stare for a moment as she was lost in thought, then resolved with a soft smile. She finally felt like this evening was going to become a little more entertaining.

****