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I’m not the type to go looking for trouble. But tonight, trouble has stalked me. Trouble has caught me.
There’s no suffering in death, no pain and no fear. It’s the complete obliteration of sensation and feeling, a freedom so infinite I often wish for it.
He’s volatile and calm about it. He’s churning with something that has the ability to explode but lacks the capacity to rue the effect. He’s dangerous while judging my worth.
Reactions to fear differ from person to person, and I fucking loved how Remiel got scared.
There’s something inside me that isn’t right, and I used to think it was a festering illness I needed to heal and purge, but I’ve become attached to it. I’m comfortable with what lives inside my head and taints my heart. We’ve learned to coexist.
I’m going to make him feel so tragically alive he’ll start actually living.
“You break so beautifully, hero,” he says, voice not as jittery as usual. “Does it hurt to shatter?”
I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’ve gotten myself into, but if this is my fate—if you are my fate—then… then a sick part of me wants to revel in you.”
Because I’ve always been sick, but Remiel makes me sicker.
“What’s it like to be loved?” Kyd asks.
What does love feel like?
“You don’t get to say no to me.” I glare at him with a hardened expression I’ve never had before. A power I’ve never felt before. “Don’t I?” he mocks, still thinking I’m beneath him. “What the fuck is it you’re actually asking for here? Pain?” “No.” “Pleasure?” “Maybe.”
Can I love you now? Can I love you while you’re terrified of me?”

