Softly, he inhales and exhales as we kiss. He never stops kissing me; he simply continues to steal my breath, returning it to me only when he’s infused it with his essence. Pure lust lives inside him. Every breath I take should come from his lungs.
If I survive this, I can’t go back. I’ll have to move forward and I don’t know what that means.
Everything is in the process of becoming something else. It’s the law of change.
I was as real to him as he was to me and it struck me just then that I meant something to him. In whatever capacity he was able, I meant something. The irony of that epiphany made my gut twist.
She loves me. It’s quite sick, isn’t it? – Caleb.
Each day I was more vulnerable than the last. Each day he stripped away more of my sense of self. And now he’d taken the last of it, the last of me. But who did that make me? An extension of him? Someone new? I didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
Why couldn’t he just keep being an evil, soulless bastard so I knew what his role was and I knew mine?
If I had thought grovelling would get Livvie into my car, I would have made a good show of it. I’m shameless. – Caleb.
I was treading the thin line of his patience while falling off the thin line of my sanity.
The intensity with which he stared at me bordered on obscene.
I didn’t want to rush things. Well, I did want to, but I know when I shouldn’t. I wanted to push her up against the door, rip off her panties, and ram myself into her, but I suspected she wouldn’t appreciate it as much as I would.
When he touched me, he made things feel better that i wasn’t aware felt so bad.
I was surprised he could do any amount of labor wearing the pants he had on. I don’t understand skinny jeans for men. Who wants to walk around with their balls in a vise?
I know you deserve to be happy. I know you deserve someone... better. But I’m selfish. I want you. I want you bad enough to try and be someone better...
I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to think. I want to stay here and pretend nothing’s waiting for us when we get out.
My heart, independent of my logic, had reserved a place for my tormentor and my solace.
He was my tormentor and my solace; the creator of the dark and the light within.
I’m telling you, monsters aren’t born, they’re made.
That you could fix me? What’s more, that I could fix you? Well, Sorry, pet, I don’t want to be fixed. – Caleb.
Love does not always begin or end the way we wish it would.
They say I tried to hurt my nurse. I tell them they tried to hurt me first.