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The girl with haunted eyes and a perpetual frown, who carried a sadness so deep that it permanently altered the shape of her lips. I spent the night tracing my tongue along her Cupid's bow until I remolded her mouth to fit against mine. Because as long as I was inside her, her sadness would be powerless to my obsession. And there would be no part of her that wasn't made precisely for me.
The fire in her green eyes is captivating. Fuck, I'm so enthralled. “You're breathtaking,” I murmur. She blinks at me, taken aback and speechless for several moments. “W-what? Why would you say that?” Because staring into her eyes is the only thing I needed, to convince myself she's everything I'll ever want for as long as oxygen invades my lungs. I knew it deep in my bones the day I met her. Even back then, my soul immediately recognized hers as its other half.
inhaling her sweet vanilla and cinnamon scent.
Why do girls always smell like cinnamon and vanilla. I hate cinnamon and I’m allergic to vanilla. Let’s mix it up
If she wanted me to fall in love with her, she only needed to tell me. Now, she has no choice in the matter. Though, I suppose she never really did. Turning my head, I stare at her until she meets my eyes. “I will chase away all your nightmares until they grow wary of returning. They will fear me, my little ghost. But you never will.”
“Jesus f-fucking Christ,”
“If you're asking Him to save you, then I will nail Him onto that fucking cross again. You will be my ruin, but only I will be your savior.”
