She’s unbearable, really. But not in the way that makes it any easier to look away. No, everything about her is a bold sort of beauty, like a rose proudly displaying its thorns. She’s alluring in the way that most deadly things are. It’s captivating. No. No, it’s terrifying. It’s supposed to be terrifying, still thinking of her as something I’m trying to deserve. Still deeming her worthy of my desire.
