The Bad Ones

by Stylo Fantome

“There's a difference between being an asshole, and being a monster. One is much better at hiding

his character.”

She wanted his darkness to swallow her whole. She wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to give her own darkness back to him.

It was a human sacrifice, and she was offering herself to your altar.

So much darkness. Falling in love with this chick would be easy, but surviving each other … that's an entirely different story.

No, we were almost everything.

“Stupid little Dulcie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her lips. She held onto his wrists and glared at him, but didn't try to pull away. His fingers got tighter. “So scared of the big bad wolf.” “I'm not … scared of you,” she managed to gasp out, but then his grip grew so tight he completely cut off her oxygen. “Of course you aren't scared of me. I'm not the wolf. You are.”

How interesting, to feel so comfortable

in another person's skin. To want to rip him open and crawl inside him and never see the light of day again.

They were a match and jar of gasoline. Who wanted to waste time with dating when there were explosions to be had?

They may have been a demented sort of Bonnie and Clyde, but it wasn't really fair to engage in an act of depravity without asking him whether or not he wanted to be a part of it.

“I'm sorry I'm difficult,” she sighed. Con stood behind her and blocked her body as a strong breeze ripped across them. “I like that you're difficult. I like that you're the perfect size, made to fit inside me,”

From now on, tell me whenever you're scared, and I'll take away your fears. Tell me when you're hurting, and I'll bleed for you.” He's so goddamn beautiful. Shines so bright, I can't even see him.

my brand of crazy has it in spades.