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I remember the first time Ren had struck me across the face, it had been a calm day my memory clear as the sky on that day and yet from that day on his intentions could never have been more clouded. I thought perhaps, even every ounce of feeling had been flushed out along with any possibility of redemption or trace of fear but that all changed when I met you. How beautiful was the fear in your eyes- It reminded me so much of my own on that day.
Corners of your eyes strained with the fear under my gaze, such is the terror that brims from desire as they say. And I had shown to be the terror that grew in your garden and devoured your heart. From the moment I saw you across the hallway I wanted to destroy you. I wanted to be the only hand that you could extend to, rule you and trust- I wanted to make you mine.
You are the sea of constellations and my existence was but a star in our infinite galaxies. It seemed everyone had a role to play, a queen to become, a martyr to fall and everyone worthy could be presented as a sun, star, nova or fragment of the highest calibre and I wanted to be asphyxiation by your overwhelming charisma and glory. I admit I want to scalp the blonde who couldn’t face you and violate him for you but you’ve grown so cold, I believe the possibility of simply waiting would grant me the sight soon enough. The girl is more amusing because at least she is more than willing put up with it for your sake but her fear is misdirected.
Somehow that feeling had returned. Like a gust of winter’s chill had exited my lips I relived that feeling as you plunged the ballpoint through my palm and I wanted to relive that pain again and again.
We began more like co-workers with only conversations of business than words of care, understanding came with the contract, though. I was grateful for that, at least... but I craved more. I wanted the hand that had given me the rush for nostalgic tragedy to take mine in his and whisper sweet words. They could have been as simple as a joke or even as ironic as forgiveness but I thirst for them.
When you reached out for your distant friend I had to pull you back, weak from blood loss and blinded but the future I guided you from the light to the jaws of the tiger and into the van. That was the first war I had won without a silver tongue. Your grip around my neck tightened and so did the rubber band around my heart you had chosen to come with me. You chose to trust me with the knowledge of the thoughts pressed at the mouth of the barrel.