/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

Unwrapping her arm from yours, you and Kiara leave the premises of KFP with the other employees, your shift ending and the restaurant closing down for the day. They still don't look at you, nor the boss, but frankly you can give less of a shit about them. Kiara leans in, giving you a lingering peck on the cheek, before she smiles.

"So, going home?" she asks casually, taking a moment to stretch. You don't say anything out loud, but after everything you did today, you're surprised she's not as limber as possible. "Or going somewhere else? Maybe...with some*one* else?" Her eyes narrow a bit at that. Uh oh.
"No, no, I'm going home, don't worry," you reaffirm, causing her expression to soften. "Gotta take the train today. Bus is out."
"Oh? I could give you a ride, if you like... I think you're more than capable of paying me for a little taxi service," Kiara teases, giving a brief jerking motion as she licks her lips. "Sound good~?"
Blushing softly, you shake your head. "It's fine. The train rides have been sort of...enjoyable, I guess. Been catching up on audio books, at least. So, that," You pause, pointing to the hand she was just gesturing with with a smirk, "Will have to wait until tomorrow, sorry to say."

Kiara mock pouts for a moment before she smiles, nodding to you. Reaching up a bit, she ruffles your hair before the two of you say your goodbyes, going your separate ways. You wonder if you should feel strange for courting your rapist. No matter how you feel about her, that thought still sticks into your head. Close as you are with Kiara now, as much as you love seeing her every day, feeling her touch you, getting able to touch her...that's still undeniable fact. You met her through rape. Your mind lingers on the thought as you start the walk to the train station. You just missed the last one until another hour at least passes - caught up with Kiara again, as usual - so you'll have a bit of a wait at the station.

Making your way inside, you get everything sorted out, moving to a bench near your boarding area. You almost feel a bit depressed now, the more you think about it. You wonder if it's a self-esteem issue. Were you so desperate to be longed for, to be loved, that you would really settle with someone who took you by force under the pretenses of blackmail happily? You admit, you were lonely. You were for awhile. You...didn't exactly have a great childhood. Nor many friends. It's not unsurprising that romantic aspects were out of the picture for you, growing up...and into your mid 20s. But is this really where you want to be? At the whims of someone who abused you, just because they give you attention? She took your virginity from you, for Christ sake. Emphasis on *took*. By force. It's not like you even care about that stuff, but still. An announcement from the intercom overhead breaks you out of your funk, indicating that your train has arrived. You were having a good day, too. Sighing, you head down on to the boarding platform.

There's a decent crowd here gathered. The bus you took was one of the more popular routes, so the idea isn't exactly shocking. As you wait for the doors to open, you let out another mopey groan, quiet enough so that no one else will hear. Really...your abuser. Someone in a relationship, as well. Even if you were to move past what she did to you and get Calli out of the picture, she's immortal. She'd outlive you. Forcing her to watch you grow old and die. But aren't you fucking getting ahead of yourself?! Hey! Don't fantasize about marrying her! That's not the point here! As the door opens, you groan internally, moving in to the train. Someone in particular catches your eye. They move in behind you. Someone in a heavy hoodie with the hood up with a beanie below that. You can't tell anything about them, their face obscured by a surgical mask and a pair of dark glasses. They look like someone up to no good...but maybe you're being judgemental.

As the train fills, you're pressed up in a tight corner, staring out the window as the train begins to settle. Filled to what must surely be capacity, the vehicle departs, and you begin the long ride home. Though you resolved to let the thought go, it bumps and bounces around inside your head, leaving you focused on the subject. You're bumped and prodded idly within the packed box, drawing a small grunt of annoyance, but nothing that erupts into full anger. Just an eventuality. During a particularly rough bump, you feel someone collide into you, nearly knocking you off balance. Their arms wrap around you, and you stammer out a question, asking if they're alright.

There's no response.