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ℒℯoηis



Shaking his head, the angel was positive it was this one. It must have been.

"It didn't have a key in the door or anything though.. when I left.." The Duodecium couldn't make sense, it was as if his efforts were just being taken apart. He knew it was this room, had someone who had the key, locked it?

A shiver ran through him as the hand met his neck, Leonis looked over his shoulder, wide blue eyes filled with curiosity..
"I'll go ask one of the maids... They might have the key.." It was just a suggestion. But the angel just couldn't understand why it was locked.

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A hand wrapping round him, slowed him to a halt; and he tilted his head back with a curious look. Why was he being?

"A-aah..w-what..I..I." He squeaked out, the touches causes a soft gasp to escape his lips as the front of the uniform was opened, his hands lightly resting on Crest's arms.

Scooped up, the angel gasped again as he was carried.
"I-I really did do g-good.. The room was completely s-spotless.." He tried to justify himself, not sure what Crest had in mind, once again, too innocent.

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The Duodecim's clothes pulled from him, Leon gasped out, the master of the house's movements gentle and caressing in a pleasing manner; however in the confusion of it all, he found himself cuffed against the head board on his knees. Trying to turn in the restraints as a struggled whine left him; he managed to catch a glimpse of those violent eyes burning into him; and what was in the man's hand.

"W-wait, I-I don't understand! W-what did I do?!." He cried out, now desperately pulling at his hands, the cuffs cutting into his delicate pale skin as he yanked at them in despair.

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During the session, he'd cried out, screamed, and those sounds were stopped with the yanks to his collar, affectively choking him like a muzzled dog.

The angel lay still. Practically lifeless; as ragged ever so faint breaths left his lips. His body alight with pain, the deeper whips had cut, or rather torn through white skin, and amidst the deep angry red welts now on his lower back; were tattered wings, that hadn't been able to fold up small enough to escape the flogging.

Tear stained face lay to one side, as he remained on his front; hand slipping once uncuffed from the head board; and resting above him as light feathers covered the bed. Someone would have assumed a shredded pillow. But this time it was an angel.

His body shook a little every now and then, convulsions of pain rippling through him. But amongst the pain of it all, as agonizing as it was; Leon had truly tried to please the man with his work. And was now, buried in hurt and confusion.

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Wounds treated, they still burned, the gashes merely hidden in bandages, torn wings, hidden under bed sheets, as the winged male lay still; tears rolling down his face, which remained turned away from the one who had inflicted all this. He was so close to passing out, but despite that, as Crest had pulled him close, by the waist, his entire body went rigid.

Leon could feel the burning of that whip, as if it was held to his skin; the marks left, even when bandaged, were extensive, criss crossing his lower back, and over his wings; which the maid couldn't really heal. They would heal, in a much longer time as in places they were lashed down to the thin bone.
He forced himself to try to stay awake, fearing the subconscious and what it would bring; but his exhausted body beat him an he finally passed out.

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The angel woke in the morning, to find himself cradled close to Crest. Leon panicked, but with a slight wince, pain lanced back through him, reminding him of the vicious wounds that would re open if he was too jerky with his movements.'What did I do?..Was it something I said..?' He racked his brain trying to find an answer to all of this.

Despite the master's surprisingly innocent face when he slept, the angel was now petrified of him, and carefully unwound the sleeping arms from his waist; so he could crawl to the other side of the bed, perched, there, rigid. The small flicker of white caught his attention as he saw a few more loose feathers fall gracefully to the ground from the battered wings. Bruise mark still deep purple round his pale neck just above the collar, was also glaringly obvious.

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Jumping at the voice, he turned, watching Crest, or rather his back as he faced the other way. He looked past him and saw the window; a strange urge to flee, but he knew he had a life commitment, and on top of that his injured wings would

Very carefully, eyes on the other in fear he would turn round, Leon lay against the sheets; stiff though and tense; in case he moved closer. Right now, he just wanted to hide. "..." He had parted his lips to speak, but didn't know what to say.

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The angel wasn't exactly resting, he was shaking, lying furthest from the man as possible. The room, to him felt so tense, even when the maid entered, it didn't clear the air. Slipping from the bed, he held a thing sheet to him, from on top of the bed, heading for the bathroom, a little off balance, as he tried to keep moving to a minimum.

He needed closure, space from the master of the house. And hoped his bathroom trip would go unnoticed as he carefully slipped out into the bathroom. The angel felt nauseous, he didn't know why, he just felt ill.