Page 14 of Dollface

“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” He grins, causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach. I cross my arms over my chest.

“Well, if you don’t like it,” I pout, “then you shouldn’t have let me pick!” I turn away from him, itching to see more of his colored tattoos, but annoyed by his insult.

A slow sigh escapes his lips, a mix of resignation and amusement. “Firefly it is,” he confirms with a sly smirk. I gasp as his hand twists around my waist, pulling me closer to him until we’re face-to-face.My Firefly.His dark gaze lingers on my skin, causing a tingling sensation as he leans closer, the energy in the room thickening with each silent second as he simply stares at me. “It's my turn to ask a question,” he finally speaks, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. With a nod, I wait for his inquiry, feeling both nervous and excited, but alsoentranced by his beauty. I can’t look away. His amused chuckle brings me back to reality, “You think this,” he gestures towards his own face, radiating with an otherworldly glow, “is something to behold? Just wait until you see the rest of me.” He winks playfully, igniting a spark of anticipation within me for what is yet to come.

“Can I?” I asked, surprised by my own question.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s still my turn, dollface.” Firefly brushes his dark hair back, a single strand falling perfectly in front of his eyes. My button eyes trail down, drawn to the colorful designs peeking from the base of his neck as he leans back, comfortably positioning himself across the foot of my bed.

“Why do you have two different colored buttons?” He points to my eyes and I still instantly, a woosh of cold rushing over me at the unexpected question falling from his lips. “Every creation I’ve seen dawdling around here in Nightmare has black buttons.” He absently plays with a loose thread hanging from his burlap suit. “So, why not you? What makes you so special?”

I stare back at him, completely and utterly speechless. His question holds more weight and hurt than I want to delve into. I don’t want to think of why, or that I, in fact, amnotspecial. My Creator simply broke my other black button when she was making me and couldn’t be bothered to grab another.Couldn’t be bothered because I am nothing special.

I force an overwhelming wave of sadness and tears back as my fingers pick at one another, the truth behind my unusual appearance being one that has haunted me since creation. I want to tell him the truth, but the thought of him knowing and then possibly losing interest in me... It’s unsettling. I can’t explain why, but I want him to want me– to enjoy me, and no one wants or enjoys a pile of scraps. “It’s nothing,” I breathe, my voice shaking lightly.

“That’s not an answer,” he replies boredly. I glance toward him, forcing a smile.

“Not everything has an answer,” I snip, causing him to raise a brow at my little display of a temper. He bites down on his bottom lip before running his thumb across it.Is he amused by my anger?“Ask me another question,”

“Oh no you don’t,” he teases. “You know the rules. Answer the question or do what I ask.” My head lowers in defeat. I want to be truthful, especially after how I just hounded him for the same thing, but I’m not ready to tell him this part of me. Not yet.

Inhaling deeply, I straighten my posture while shoving the feelings back into the depths of my consciousness, before giving him direct eye contact. “Dare.”

A flicker of something unreadable dances in the depths of his dark irises, as if my single word has sparked a whole new level to his twisted game. He sits up, the frame of my bed creaking beneath him, and fixes me with a predatory gaze. His lips curl into a sly grin as he speaks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Interesting,” he purrs, his tone sending shivers down my spine. “Now, let's see... What kind of dare should I pick for a pretty little doll like yourself?” My cheeks flush with heat at his words, my mind reeling at the thought of being referred to as “pretty” by the notorious Boogeyman himself. He leans back again, lost in thought as he considers his next move while I sit here, half shell-shocked and living on the edge of every word that falls from his lips. The seconds stretch on like hours, each passing moment adding to the growing tension between us, until finally, he breaks the silence and speaks once more.

His eyes bore into mine with a predatory glint, a smile slowly spreading across his lips that speaks of both seduction and malice. I can't help but wonder if it’s the first time he's smiled. “I dare you,” he growls, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, “to take off your tights.” My body tenses at the unexpected request.Why does he want me to do this?“Now,” he snaps impatiently, and a jolt of fear shoots through my veins as I realize his controlling demand leaves no room for negotiation.

“Y-yes, sir,” My voice shakes as I slide off the bed under his intense gaze. My shaking fingers trail up my legs and slip beneath the fabric of my dress, sending shivers down my spine.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his low, velvety voice sending shivers down my spine. I comply with his command, peeling the tights off my skin in slow motion. Striped on one half and adorned with stars on the other, they reveal the pale, stitched skin of my legs. As I kick them towards the foot of the bed, his arm snakes out and catches them effortlessly. His eyes never leave me as he brings the tights to his face, inhaling deeply. “My, my, my, what do we have here?” He takes another sniff and closes his eyes, savoring the scent of my nylon-clad skin. “You smell like the shadows of the moon at night; like wild snapdragons blooming under the black light, eagerly waiting for someone to come and pluck them.” With a dismissive toss, he discards my tights. “A delicious surprise indeed.” I can feel myself blushing as I crawl across the bed on my knees, quickly adjusting my skirt to avoid exposing anything. “N-now what?” My voice quivers as I try to regain composure.

“Now,” he reclines on the bed, eyeing the hem of my dress with hunger in his gaze, “it's your turn to ask me a question. Unless you're feeling too nervous.” His smirk only intensifies my flustered state.

Too nervous? Is he expecting me to bow out and just let him win? Is he purposely teasing and mocking me by using my innocence against me?I furrow my brows and press my lips together as my competitive side wakes up, ready to take control.Well, two can play that game.I cock my head at him. “I dare you to show me more of your—” I swirl my fingers around, motioning to his body. “Color.”

Firefly chuckles to himself. “You didn’t even ask me a question.”

“Fine. Will you show me more of your color?” I can’t help but smile at myself, proud in the way I’ve manipulated the game in my own personal favor. Firefly watches me, amused with my words.

“Clever little doll.” He slowly lifts his hand, taking his sweet time as he begins to remove his burlap glove. “But you’re not the only one with a cunning side.” He lifts the glove, completely revealing his glowing, colorful hand. “See? More color.” He wiggles his long, inked fingers, color emanating from his skin. My mouth drops open, both amazed by the color and irritated by his cleverness.

“You might want to close that pretty little mouth of yours.” He leans forward, gently brushing the underside of my chin with his forefinger as he pushes against my face, closing my mouth. “Never know what might land in it.” My jaw tightens with an odd feeling of fear and anxiety. “What’s wrong, dollface? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” I snap, crossing my arms. “But now, it’s my turn again.”

“You just went.”

“Ah—youjust went. You asked me a question, and I answered.” A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I watch the wheels turning in his head. He has caught on to my tactic, and his own smile fades, replaced by a grumbling annoyance. With my hands placed delicately on the bed, my hair cascading down my arms, I tilt my head towards him and sing, “Now it's my turn.” I gesture my head toward him. “Can you show me even more?” My buttons sparkle, enamored by this new idea of color, the various hues and shades completely absorbing my thoughts. The added bonus of Firefly undressing, well, that isn’t so bad either.

“I can.” He removes his second glove, revealing more colors etched across his skin. “But it’s going to cost you. Out there it’s an eye for an eye, but with me, it’s skin for skin.”

“That’s not how you play the game.” I rear back, my face burning with annoyance and anticipation.

“Says who?” His fingers lightly brush over my hand, tracing the tops of them as they run along my wrists and slowly up my arm. “You said yourself you didn’t know how to play this game.” His eyes meet mine, and a shiver runs through me. “Come on now, we haven’t got all night. Pay up, dollface.” Firefly snaps his glowing fingers at me.

I lean back, my hand shaking as I reach over and slowly unzip the back of my dress. I can feel his gaze weighing heavy over my skin as I cautiously begin to remove my long sleeve dress, the fabric rolling down my arms as his hungry eyes fuel my movements. I would never do such a thing if I was still in Dreadmoor, but there’s something about being here, being with him.

The Boogeyman, here, watching me undress, as if I’m feeding him the sweetest treat. There’s almost a kind of underlying power stitched within this naughty little act. I have something over him, something foreign and controlling, and I need to explore it and learn more.

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