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He who was once a rapist and child trafficker is now pig shit. So fucking poetic.
Mainly because I fucked her thoroughly before I gave her a brand-new identity. Then, she disappeared on me—just like she was supposed to.
And it fucking enraged me. Now, she stares at me like a tiny rabbit caught in a trap, squealing to be freed. She escaped me once, and I let her. I won’t allow it a second time.
“That’s also new. You gonna use that on me, little ghost? I don’t mind joining you in the afterlife.”
“At one point in our lives, we don’t know our soulmates at all. But that doesn’t make them any less of one. Sometimes… sometimes you just know.”
“Come on, little ghost. Let’s go stuff that pretty little mouth.” Said mouth drops, and he grabs my hand, pulling me after him as he laughs. What a dick. He’s lucky it’s a really fucking nice one.
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.
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.
“We're all hungry, baby. Who are you going to feed first?”
A dangerous man at my back demanding to see what I'm made of. The honest answer is trauma, sadness, and scars that I can't bear to look at. But I still feel them.
“I want to be the only man on this entire fucking planet that knows what you feel like. And if I’m sharing this knowledge with a single soul still walking this earth, then I will be removing them from it.”
He's definitely an incel. I can't imagine a remark like that working on a single woman when he's missing his two front teeth and his pale skin is pinkened and covered in scabs from drug use.
But because, for some indescribable reason, she feels like mine.
“How viable is your uterus? Eggs haven't shriveled yet, right? I've been waiting for grandkids.”
A fire explodes in my chest, burning a path down to our entwined hands. I hope to God that it burns her, too. I want the flames to melt our hands together so she can never let go.
“I will chase away all your nightmares until they grow wary of returning. They will fear me, my little ghost. But you never will.”
“Don't be fooled, little ghost, I will own you even after you've disappeared. You may vanish, but your soul will always be mine.”
“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.”
“Brace yourself, little ghost. I don’t fuck kindly.”
“If a man ever calls you something you don’t like, I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll always respect your boundaries.” I catch my bottom lip between my teeth before it can tremble. It takes a moment as the urge to cry subsides. I’ve never felt so… respected. Like my feelings about what happens to my body are actually valued. Like they mean something to him.
“So, the little ghost finally materializes. Welcome to the rest of your life, baby.”
