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Toshiro stands very still, arms rigid at his sides as he bows, a pitiful whimper burning on the tip of his tongue. But he swallows it down with all the power he has left— even if it’s little and feeble. More powerless than powerful.
“Marie-san, I—” He stutters out, trying to mend whatever he broke this time. It’s always like that with him. He scrapes by leeching off of other people but still can’t do anything right. “I’m so sorry for embarrassing you again. T-that was the last time, I promise.”
Marie has her back to him, not bothering to humor Toshiro or acknowledge he’s in the room, about to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness in that watery, trembling voice of his. Her red lips curl up cruelly, the mere idea making heat coil in her lower stomach.
She wills down that smile, turning to look at Toshiro, who’s still bowing, eyes squeezed shut. Spineless as ever, isn’t that right?
“Well, well…” Marie finally speaks, making Toshiro’s entire body jerk up to look at her, as if giving her his undivided attention was programmed in his pea-sized brain. As it should be.
“You are sorry now? Are you aware of all the trouble you’ve caused me?” She says, low and dangerous, in a displeased, acidic tone. Toshiro is afraid some of that acid will drip between her teeth, down her tongue, and burn him all the more. “You always make the same mistakes, again and again and again. Do you think a “sorry” will always magically fix them? Foolish.”
Toshiro’s legs tremble. He starts, voice barely above a whisper, “I— You’re right—”
Marie approaches him slowly, predatory, heels clicking loudly against the floor, and Toshiro begins backing away, stopping himself immediately after noticing his bodily reactions. That sort of resistance would only anger her more. “What was that?” Now in front of him, she smiles, all venom.
“You’re right! My apologies, Marie-san! You’re right, you’re right,” he shouts in desperate chants to placate her.
Well, isn’t her puppet just so adorable?
However, all traces of leniency fade from Marie’s expression. She wrinkles her nose, repelled by the unpleasant sight of her fiancé. Toshiro recoils, already aware of what’s coming next.
Marie’s delicate hand finds his face, long, perfect nails digging into his cheek where she’s grabbing him like a ragdoll. “If I tell you to do something, you do it! It’s time to break through that thick skull of yours! Is it that hard to grasp?!” Then, she raises her hand as much as her voice.
Toshiro chokes, losing his voice, and—
Marie squeaks as she callously shoves him aside, sending him sprawling to the floor, face twisted in sheer repulsion. “How pathetic can you get?! Since when you pee yourself, you disgusting little mutt?!”
Toshiro sniffles as silently as he can manage, but she hears him all the same, laughing after the leftovers of revulsion are gone, like it’s a funny joke told between friends. She always does that, she always knows his weaknesses to a T. He cannot hide nor escape.
Marie walks away, leaving him sitting on a puddle of his own urine, clearly bored of him for today.
Thankfully.