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“You’re different, I’ll give you that. They didn’t break you, but don’t think you can fight me. You won’t win.”
Q was no longer the devil. He was my master and I belonged to him.
I fully believed I was made for him and he was made for me. Two halves of the same fuckedupness. Two souls from the same twisted desires, unable to fully be free until we found each other.
“Je suis à toi.” I am yours. I shook my head. “Nous sommes les uns des autres.” We are each other’s.

