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Vicious little thing, indeed.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to focus on dancing, or will I be too much of a distraction, darling?”
“Always so vicious and eager to stab me.”
Beautiful in the way only deadly things can be.
Beautiful, bold, not blending in.
She is the embodiment of a bad decision. The twin of danger and desire. The fine line between deadly and divine. And I can feel myself drowning.
“I’ll be stealing her now,”
She’s bewildering as much as she is beguiling. That pretty mouth of hers says one thing, but those ocean eyes say another. She pulls a knife from my back only to say she’ll bury another one there. She’s confusing, captivating, and we’re completely wrong for each other in all the right ways. She’s a flame, and I’m going to get burned. An ocean and I’m going to drown.
“If you die, I’m going to kill you.”
She’s too stubborn to die, and I’m too stubborn to let her.
The sight of her so weak, so vulnerable, so unlike herself, was enough to shatter a piece of the soul I’d forgotten I had.
I hate it—I love it. I feel free—I feel trapped.
“Because I don’t tolerate my toys being played with.” She is going to hate that.
And now I forever want her name on my lips and rolling off my tongue until I’m drunk on the taste and sound of it.
Every time she looks at me, I feel like I’m gasping for air. I hate it.
Not until I looked into a pair of ocean-blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing. Not until I looked into a pair of fiery blue eyes and realized that perhaps burning was a painless thing. Not until I looked into a pair of sky-blue eyes and realized that perhaps falling was a peaceful thing.
“Will you forever be the prize I am aimlessly trying to win?”
“Pae, when I look at you… I’m devastated. I’m drowning. I’m dying to catch my breath.”
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