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The rainbow room was unusually rowdy this morning. Made sense, considering the angel tormenting my dreams lately wasn’t there to quiet down the children. The other orderlies didn’t care to try. If they couldn’t have a cup of coffee or a cigarette or two to wake them up, a bunch of super-powered kids would do the trick. All the dull, tired orderlies. Except one. He was late. He was never late. Not that I cared what Peter did with his spare time. Peter? It felt weird to call him that considering he had authority over me, but Mr. Ballard didn’t feel right either. And there was no way I was going to call him ‘(friendly) orderly’ anytime soon. That was his job. Then again, Dr. Brenner has us all call him papa. Way weirder than something like ‘teacher’ so I just stayed conflicted. I doubt I’m Brenner’s real child. He told me he was when he brought me here, to this place. Documents in hand, stony expression on his face. Who has sixteen kids anyway? Maybe he was Catholic?
Before I could go back to pondering on as to why the blonde seemed to be a no show, he came through the double doors. Sharp as ever, hands clasped in front of his torso this time. Couldn’t one of the other orderly’s ever take his place? Or just, like, try? He was seriously distracting. The staff relied on him too much, and he either didn’t realize or didn’t care. Crystal blue eyes scanned the rainbow room before flickering over to me. He flashed an almost shy but not quite smile when we made eye contact. Honestly I wish he’d been more expressionless and barely throw me a glance. His soft smile was so kind but oh so wicked once flashes of my dream from this morning surfaced. It came in flashes. First his comforting aura, then his long, slender fingers, his hot toung-
“Well well, look who finally decided to join us.”
When did he get so close?
“Someone’s a sleepyhead this morning.”
No no no. I couldn’t handle being around him at that moment, it was too much. I blushed, looking down and to the side. I was practically burning under his gaze.
”Am I in trouble?”
“Not at all, you’re just missing out on all the fun.” His chipper and friendly voice was almost enough to make me melt. I was smitten with the man, but just couldn’t accept that that was what it was. “You looked flushed. Are you feeling ok?”
“I’m fine, just a little out of it”
“Hm” Peter said playfully. “You’ve been ‘out of it’ everyday it seems.
I forced myself to exchange small talk with him. I always got by not calling him any sort of name or title when we had time to converse. If he were to speak first, I’d respond. If I were to speak first, I’d just state whatever phrase or question I needed to.
I had a few minutes to spare, so I awkwardly excused myself to go draw. I sketched mindlessly with the colored pencils, getting lost in thought. Some blue here, some yellow there. Maybe some white? Yeah, white is good. The paper was tan, so the white would pop. I loved drawing. I decided to draw an Angel. The gold halo was the last part I remembered working on. I was still tired from my lack of sleep. I looked at the clock and realized I had less than a minute to clean up my area and get in line. I look down at my artwork and gasped. I had drawn Peter. That stupid, beautiful man. I briefly remembered my small talk with him. He had mentioned we weren’t going back to our rooms to change into the sweatshirts and sweatpants as we were doing non physical exercises today. Shit. Shit shit shit. I couldn’t let him see that, but I wouldn’t be able to drop it off in my room now either. A hand gently clasped my shoulder and I spun around knocking all the pencils over the table with my left hand. Fuck. I turn around and surprise surprise, it’s none other than the muse of my artistic masterpiece.
“Don’t worry about that, I got it. Now go get in line before Papa gets here. Remember to stay alert. You’re going to do great today.”
He let go of his grasp on my arm just picoseconds before Brenner entered the room. I made a bad joke to myself that Peter was an exhibitionist before walking to my spot in line. He was separated from the others, hands folded behind his back this time. That was probably for the best. Whatever psychic abilities he had weren’t as prominent when he was hiding his hands. Or maybe they were. Ugh. Even his perfect, butler-like posture was riling me up. He must have some kind of powers. There was no way the hot flushes, blushing, sweating, and butterflies in my stomach, among other places was all me. I could feel the familiar wet heat between my legs a lot these days. It probably started around two months ago when Peter started cozying up to me, sly bastard. Times like when I was the last in line on the way to bed, and he would be by the doorway, muttering “Sweet dreams” as I passed by him. He hadn’t said that to me the last two years I was here, why then? The first time I started getting this feeling, he was on the other side of the rainbow room, opposite the double doors. My back was slightly facing him as I stood at one corner of the mirror, trying to see in. I could have sworn there was movement behind it. Peter was at the other end of the mirror. I had moved along the mirror inch by inch, looking for an anomaly like I was a detective in my own mystery novel, or a some kid at Target. Stepping back just a little, I caught his eyes in my peripheral vision. The man was standing further away from the shiny surface, back facing me, so I could have imagined his head slightly turning to face me over his shoulder. I had just convinced myself it was a figment of my imagination when he decided to give me a tight lipped but genuine smile. Jumping then blushing, I ran over to the drawing station with my head down the entire time. A few minutes passed before he sat down across from me without alerting me of his presence.
“What are you working on?” He would ask. You looked down at the pastel colors making up the realistic rainbow you saw from the monthly field trip to the ‘front yard’ of the laboratory. It was the first real rainbow you ever saw, on your birthday of all days. Now you’ve seen more of the world, you could improve your art skills. The stripes painted on the floor and walls were shit in comparison to the real thing. The solid bright colors became sickeningly boring rather quickly.
”Just drawing what I see”, you responded.
Ever since then you have been a little more open to speaking with the young Hawkins lab employee. Out of curiosity, boredom, loneliness, to satiate that familiar ache, who knew. It was probably all those reasons and more. It became routine, which only made the ache throb harder. It was around this time you discovered masterbation. Except, no matter how hard or skillfully you tried, you could barely feel pleasure, let alone finish. Once you came particularly close (compared to all the other times) due to using your powers to shake the bed as you rolled your hips into the sheets frantically. You were thinking about if the handsome orderly’s hips rolling into his own sheets ever happened, since you both lived within the same walls. Although you weren't supposed to call him by his name, as whiny “Peter” escaped your lips. A sharp knock at the door halted you like a deer in headlights as your face whipped to face the door.
”Y/n? Are you alright in there? Of course he had night duty.
“Uh, yes! Yeah, sorry. I was having a nightmare, but I’m okay now, promise!” He knew. Shit he totally knew. You got back into bed properly and slipped on your panties.
”All right, just call if you need me. Goodnight, y/n.”
That just made you want him more. This time, you quietly slipped your hand into your panties to find your clit, but it wasn’t enough. You whined a little, imagining the reason you couldn’t cum was because he was edging you with whatever psychic abilities he had. You whined and whimpered softly to yourself, almost hoping the object of your affections was listening with his ear pressed to the door, palming himself to the sounds of your distraught state.
That was over a month ago. Whenever you could, you would draw and draw to distract yourself, focusing on honing your art skills. That dammed rainbow room.
That’s where you were today, during break. Despite the exhaustion of training being slightly harder than usual that day, you needed a distraction. Winding down wasn’t an option after being blindfolded and had the words “Good luck” whispered into your ear. You got lost in your thoughts as the yellow clashed with your drawing.