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I’m not only riveted by her. I’m possessed by a need to have her. And she must be mine.
I’d love nothing more than to be consumed by her words, no matter how they greet me. Whether it’s through those red-stained lips or from her delicate hands. I want to know every facet of her, every centimeter of her—mind, body, and soul.
She plagues my mind, infecting it like a parasite and overriding any autonomy over myself. My free will is indebted to her, and without her, I am nothing.
I could make her forget if I was inside her.
It’s physically painful for me to walk away from her, but I know that I must. I’m a bad man, but I won’t be her monster. No. I want to be her savior.

