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I grip the four snow-white roses in my hand so tight my knuckles crack and the thorns dig painfully into my skin. I squeeze harder, needing more of that pain. I need to feel something to remind me I’m still alive, even if I spend my days wishing I wasn’t.
“Now get the fuck out before I forget you’re family and fucking destroy you.” He grins, but considering he’s still glaring at me like he really wants to make good on his threats, he just looks even more deranged and dangerous. “I’ll do it. And I won’t even feel bad.” Instead of scaring me or setting off my usual defense of shutting down, more of that weird excitement fills my chest. “Go ahead,” I say, my voice neutral and unbothered. A flicker of surprise breaks through his rage. “Do it.” I lift my hands in front of me like I’m showing him I don’t have a weapon. “Fucking destroy me.”
“Who were you dreaming about?” I can’t keep the demand out of my tone. “Tell me.” “You,” he chokes out. “I was dreaming about you.”
“Are you going to class today?” he asks like he didn’t just have his finger inside me.

