Celestia and DealerAnon Pt. 11

>The walk home was quiet and uneventful
>For once, you were thankful for it
>Most of the vagrants had left the streets in search of warmer places
>Those that were left were either too fucked up to move or warming themselves in front of dumpster fires
>Walking in through the door, you notice that the house is completely dark
>And also a lot cleaner than you left it
>Celestia must have been up again
>You waltz over to the kitchen and strip off your jacket, the wounds on your upper body stinging from the movement
>You barely suppress a hiss of pain as you stow your piece into your pocket
>Lot of fucking good it did you this time
>Opening the cupboard from memory, you grope around in the darkness until your fingers settle around the neck of a bottle
>In an instant, you screw off the cap and start emptying the whiskey into your mouth
>With no regard for taste, you drink and drink, until you're halfway through
>Fuck, you really needed that
>Holding the bottle in one hand, you walk up the staircase to your bedroom, the reassuring weight of the gun comforting you every step of the way
>It's not paranoia if you have a reason to be on edge, right?
>You open the door slowly, the unoiled hinges giving a loud creak
>In the darkness of your bedroom, you finally relax and put the gun down on the nightstand
>Locking the door behind you, you take a deep pull of the whiskey, the cheap taste and burning sensation taking your thoughts off the beating
>You strip yourself down to your drawers and head off towards the bathroom
>Might as well see how bad you look
>Also you really need to take a leak
>You feel completely fine, until the sparse rays of light coming in through your bedroom window show movement in your bed
>Shit
>Shit
>Shit
>You bolt towards the night stand and grab your gun firmly, take off the safety, aim it towards the lump on your bed, and stop to think
>Why'd anyone break into your house just to sleep in your bed?
>You flick the safety back on and slowly inch towards the shape on your bed, heart rate beginning to calm down
>Turning on the lamp beside the bed, you see that it is the intruder from before
>Fucking Celestia
>You take a deep drag from your bottle as she begins to wake up
>''Mmpfh, just- just five minutes more.''
''Celestia?''
>Your voice is barely above a whisper, but doesn't seem to go unheard
>''Fuh- five minutes more, Luna.''
''Hey, come on. What are you doing in my bed?''
>You shake her as gently as you can and she finally jolts awake
>''Oh, mmh, sorry Anon, I thought you weren't coming home-''
>Her eyes widen and her voice rises in volume as she looks at your bandaged face
>''Oh my God Anon! What happened to you?''
>You shrug and try to play it off
''Long story, C. Had a bit of a scuffle.''
>''A scuffle? A scuffle?!''
>She looks completely shocked, all traces of sleep gone
''Yeah.''
>''Anon, that's not a scuffle, that's-''
''I'm okay. Why are you in my bed?''
>''You look like you've been through a meat grinder and you're telling me you're okay?''
''Is it that bad?''
>''What the hell happened to you?''
''Scuffle. Why are you in my bed?''
>You take another drag from your bottle, feeling anger boil up again
>''I thought I'd just take a short nap after cleaning the house since you weren't around and, well, here I am.''
>She gives a sheepish smile, but grows serious in an instant
>''But what happened to you? You look terrible!''
''Look, I just got into a bit of a fight, okay? I just need some rest, and I'll be fine.''
>She looks almost sad now, and her voice is little more than a murmur
>''You have no idea what you look like, do you?''
>Shit
>That doesn't sound good
>Not good at all
>You storm into the bathroom and flick the lamp on, the sharp light burning your retinas
>You steel yourself with a drag from your bottle, and look into the mirror
>Oh God
>That can't be you
>But it's got to be you
>Celestia is hovering anxiously in the doorway, clearly uncomfortable
>Methodically, you retrieve a first aid kit from the medicine cabinet
>With as few looks into the mirror as possible, you start stripping the bandages and plasters off your face
>Caked blood mixes with fresh in the sink for every dressing removed
>After removing the last bandage from your face, you strip off your shirt and get to work taking off the bandages criss-crossing your torso
>Ugly purple bruises and ruptured tissue peeks out from underneath every bloodstained piece of cloth
>Your work finally done, you look into the mirror
''Jesus Christ…''
>Your face is a blood-caked mass of bruises and cuts, a particularly large one going from just below your left eye towards your mouth, nothing but makeshift stitching holding it together
''Jesus fucking Christ…''
>You touch your face as if to affirm that you are the mangled mass of meat in the mirror, and you wince despite yourself when your shaking hand passes over the larger cuts
>''Anon, can I help you?''
>You want to tell her to fuck off
>You want to tell her to go back to the couch and leave you alone with what's left of your visage
>You want to yell at her, snap at her, do anything to make her leave you alone
>But you can't
>Something about the worried, almost motherly look in her eyes reminds you that she had nothing to do with this
>You sigh, and slump down on the toilet, taking a long pull from the bottle
''You any good with a first aid kit?''

>You barely mask a hiss of pain as Celestia gently cleans the cuts on your face for what seems like the umpteenth time
>She notices your discomfort and pats your head gently, still not taking her eyes off the wounds on your face
>Despite her initial reaction, she was more than happy to help, and from the pocket mirror in your hand you can see that she's doing a mighty fine job of it
>Looking at you now, with the dried blood on your face mostly gone, you don't look exactly as fucked as you did at first
>It's still going to leave a couple of ugly scars, but you are nowhere near the mincemeat monstrosity you saw before
>''I know it hurts, Anon, but I have to clean these.''
''I know.''
>''The last thing you want is these getting infected.''
''I know. Thanks.''
>You reply morosely and take another swig from your bottle
>''No problem. Now-''
>She gestures towards the dark bruises marring your chest and stomach
>''There's not much I can do about those, and I really think you should go to the clinic.''
>She shakes her head and sucks in a deep breath
>''Why you didn't go there from the beginning is beyond me, but at the very least, you should make sure you don't have any broken ribs.''
>You chuckle mirthlessly
''Do you have any idea how much they charge? It's daylight robbery, that's what it is.''
>''Yeah, but-''
>She sighs and hugs you gently
>''Just, be careful, okay? I might already have lost my sister. I don't want to lose anyone else.''
>She mutters quietly into your neck
>At this point you notice that her night gown isn't covering much
>Her skin is incredibly soft, almost shimmering with a pearly sheen
>Her hair shells like a summer day, and you feel light-headed for a moment
>Whether it's the drink getting to you or the blood rushing to your rapidly-growing erection you don't know
>But it feels good all the same
>She slowly breaks the embrace, chuckles nervously, and fiddles with her hair
>''Now, I think it's time to stitch those up.''
>She brings out a needle and thread from the first aid kit, and draws closer again
''No, no need, I'm fine, thanks.''
>You reply a bit too quickly, not taking your eyes off the shining needle in her hand
>''Anon, are you scared of needles?''
''N-no!''
>''Well if you say so.''
>Her mischievous smile might be the scariest thing you've seen in a long tim
>''Now hold still…''
>Oh God fuck no

>''See, now that wasn't so bad, was it?''
>Celestia gently rubs your hair while chuckling softly
>Meanwhile, you're doing everything you can to keep from hyperventilating
''I don't see what's so funny.''
>''It's nothing.''
>Her expression says something else entirely
''No, please, enlighten me. I'm sure I'll see the humor in the situation.''
>Your sarcastic tone suggests otherwise
>In your defense, you don't find needles particularly fun
>''Well, it's just-''
>She shrugs, still smiling
>''You walk in with your face completely busted and don't care at all, but when I pull out a needle you're practically screaming.''
''Still don't see it.''
>''Sorry, it's stupid.''
>You shrug, not really knowing what to say
>''It's just, well, it's kind of cute.''
>Her eyes fly open and she definitely looks slightly panicked over the direction the conversation
>''Oh, uh, I mean…''
>You give her your cutest grin
''Thanks. You too.''
>Her face reminds you of a tomato
>''Oh, uh. Well, I-''
>You stand up, slightly unsteady, and give her a smile
''It's okay. Whatever you want to say, say it now.''
>''Oh, I just-''
''You know I won't judge you.''
>''Well, I'm just, just really tired, okay?''
>You grin
''Aren't we all?''
>You move closer to her and put your arm around her waist
>The moment of truth
''But, you know, the house gets awfully cold this time of year.''
>''I, I don't-''
>You lean in and whisper into her ear
''And if you feel like warming me up, I wouldn't have anything against it.''
>You grin and take another swig
''Nothing against it at all.''
>''Oh, uh, well Anon, I must say I'm quite tired.''
''So am I.''
>''And, well, it simply wouldn't be proper to do… anything. I hope you understand.''
>Despite her fading blush, she looks awfully businesslike
>You grin and nuzzle her hair
''Yeah, I hear you. But I wouldn't complain.''
>''Well, Anon, as wonderful as this has been, I simply must get going now.''
>You give her a final squeeze and release her from your grip, your hand falling slackly on your side
>''Good night, Anon.''
>She pulls the night gown tight around herself and storms off towards the couch downstairs
''Yeah, nighty-night.''
>You chuckle to yourself and empty the bottle into your awaiting mouth while admiring her hips
>Shiieet