A Flower Blooming In The Slums

X Heavy mention of sexual trauma~

Fiametta was never big on proper amounts of sleep but it had never bothered her before, it was just even less now. The more she worked to be in a normal way of life the more she was strung out. The more she got drunk. The more she let herself suffer. She was doing it to herself to keep herself feeling anything. If her family showed they cared, she meant something to them. She meant something to herself. She had a reason to keep being here, at home that was.

Her dreams didn't really consist of nightmares, after she released herself from her captors there was nothing to be afraid of. She wasn't afraid even, she was just angry. It's why she took it out on them when she had the chance. And she knew she'd make it home one day and when the truth came out she'd be able to tell a brutal, thriving tale.

As everything came to darkness, there was nothing. She saw nothing. Just the relief of everything gone. Relief... she felt herself exhale a breath as a flame brought her into her dream, sensations that always felt different when she was asleep because they weren't real. It was the anticipation, the desire to want it to be real. Her soft feline paws touching along her sensitive areas as the heat in her grew. Fuck, what Saracyn said about sex was true. And she hated him for it. Every time one of those fuckers touched her, it fed into her. She hated when she liked it, she hated when she would play along with them to make it easier. But fuck, was he right. She'd try her best to remember her nights with Stolas but it was hard with the stark contrast. And maybe that's why she played with the captors. Make it seem more believable, more mentally enjoyable for her so she could get through and wait for her chance. The dream was probably the fire that stoked the demon ready to stalk her, but none of it was real, right?

"Fiametta"