frostedoverrose: (FrostedOverRose)
"Sometimes I picture you as a child . . . before you came to live with the Greys."

Christian looks up at me, confused. Thoughts ran through his mind, before it settled on something.

"What?" He deadpanned.

"I picture you..." I say.

"I heard you," Christian replied. "I don't know why. But you don't know what I looked like when I was a child. Whatever you picture, stop. I had buck-teeth and I remember being really tall for my age."

I couldn't find the words to say. Fifty as a tall, buck-toothed kid didn't make sense.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why what?" I asked, confused.

"Why do you picture me as kid?" He asked.

"I...don't know really," I murmur.

-----

"I see," I murmur.

Christian looked confused, "What?"

I reached up and slapped him, hard. "Stop blaming me over the fact that you 'lost control.' You were damn right aware of what you were doing. You can't lose something that you don't have. You have no control over your sex-drive. You're pissed off at me, because I wasn't home to get kidnapped, or raped, or murdered. Most people would be relieved, not pissed off. It sounds like you're pissed that I wasn't home to get kidnapped, raped, or murdered."
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