Obedience is not silence
420 Words
The fire crackled behind her.
Clara was still on her knees, her body warm from the heat, her skin flushed from shame—or something that felt too similar to be named.
Dorian stood in front of her, perfectly still.
“You followed instruction,” he said. “You obeyed. You spoke the truth.”
Her eyes dropped again.
“But that’s not the same as understanding.”
He stepped to the side, moving slowly around her.
“You’re afraid of what you feel,” he said. “Not because it’s wrong. But because no one ever told you it was yours.”
She didn’t respond.
“Stand.”
Clara rose, shaky on her legs. She folded her hands in front of her instinctively.
He nodded toward the fireplace.
“Turn and face the flame.”
She obeyed.
The heat licked at her cheeks, her arms. Her back felt open, exposed.
“Now speak,” he said from behind her.
“Speak… what?”
“What I see when I look at you.”
Clara froze.
“I—I don’t know what you see.”
“Then imagine it,” he said. “And say it out loud.”
Her heart thudded in her chest.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I… I’m pale,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “Thin. I’m not very tall. My hair is dark. My—my breasts are small.”
Silence.
The fire cracked behind her. Dorian didn’t move.
She swallowed.
“You see someone afraid. Someone weak.”
More silence.
Then: “That’s not what I see.”
Clara’s breath caught.
“Again,” he said. “But tell me what I see.”
She hesitated.
Then, slowly:
“You see… my skin,” she said. “My neck. My throat.”
A pause.
“You see how I try not to breathe too loud. You see my hands… fidgeting. You see I’m not used to being noticed.”
Her voice faltered.
“You see that I… want to be.”
Stillness behind her. Like the whole room was holding its breath.
“I don’t know why. But I want to be.”
The fire popped.
Then, from behind her, his voice again:
“Turn.”
She did.
He stepped forward—just close enough for her to feel his warmth.
Then he looked her in the eyes and said, low and certain:
“Now you’re learning "
- Writer
