Little Demon in the Details

by Nordika Night

I’m overwhelmed to high hell, but I’m managing. I guess I do that now. I manage. New life skill.

I’m not wearing a mask. I’m not faking anything. I’m just me—confused, uncertain, not-okay, bratty me.

“Fuck knows how you did it, little demon, but you did.” His lips move against mine, kissing and confessing together. “Did what?” “Made me yours.”

I call it a job; he calls it a mission. So naturally, now I also call it a mission because I’m the biggest fucking pushover for this guy. It’s pathetic.

“Fuck me like there are no buts, Blake.” Fuck me like you love me.

“I love you, okay? With no buts.

“I fucking love you.” I kiss him. “Love me harder,” he demands. Any-fucking-time.

My baby boy is out there strutting his hot ass around downtown as we speak,

“Hurry up and stop eye-fucking yourself in the mirror. We all know you’re hot shit. You most of all.

Mercer is a tyrannical dictator.

“Too much thought, but never settle on anything. It might be pathetic, but I sometimes wish something would just happen without me having to give permission so that I can either feel good or bad about it after it’s already done.” “It’s not pathetic,” Keira says. “It’s displacement.

“I need you to break it down for me, Blake. None of this ‘whatever you want to do, we’ll do’ bullshit. I need options. Preferably only two options, but three if you must.” Because I can’t process something so open-ended.

“Listen here, Brantley, I am like a mosquito. I will pester and suck you dry until I get what I’m after. You know this.”