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“The monster in you recognizes the monster in me,” he whispered. “And it wants to play.”
“Thank you for the knee,” Stavros called after him. “I always appreciate a man who kneels.”
“He might not ask, but he wants your forgiveness. And he might not tell you outright, but he’ll gladly walk into your blade.”
circumstances. “You have my attention,” he murmured. “That is what you wanted, yes? But you must know, Stavros…” Stavros inhaled. “You must know you had it from the very beginning. You never lost my attention.”
“I am yours. To fuck. To torture. To kill. I am yours.” For some reason, the truth of those words were the saddest thing Stavros ever experienced.
“Because I’m afraid that what I feel for him might burn brighter, hotter, than what I felt for her.”
“Feelings aren’t something you run from,” Christophe answered softly. “You bring them with you wherever you go.”
“Your touch kills me,” Daniel confessed through the thickness in his throat. “It’s the sweetest murder, and I want it again and again.”
Sometimes sacrifice meant sticking it out. Sometimes it meant letting yourself take what would make you happy even if it would make someone else sad. He’d had to say goodbye once. There would be no second time.
“This tin man has a heart, diablo. And it is yours.” He caught Stavros’ hand and brought it up to his chest. Over his heart. “It beats for you.”
“I expect you to love me like I love you,” he whispered into that kiss. “I expect you to do right by me, because I will do right by you.” Stavros shuddered. His grip on Daniel faltered. “I expect you to take care of my heart, diablo, because I will take care of yours.”
“I live to die for you. I am here to die for you.”
