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If you hurt someone enough, they acclimatize to pain, but just like a wound, if you don’t seal it, you’ll bleed out.
“One day, when this asshole isn’t lurking around you like a hungry lion protecting his prey, I’m going to play some games with you.”
“Because your demons whispered all your secrets into my ear the day you dragged me through your hell, and let me tell you something, you are a monster, Nate. And a liar.”
She’s always cute, but when she’s angry, there’s something inside of me that recognizes her fire and wants to build an inferno with her.
“You think you have the power, but last I checked, I’m the one with the pussy.”
“You’re a pain in not just his ass, but mine too, but I don’t get to eat that ass, so this shit isn’t fair.”
Pain doesn’t define us, it shapes us. We come into this world as newborns, a fresh start. New life, a crisp soul. Then life happens, and every single choice you make has an implication. Every scar has a story, or it doesn’t and it’s just a scar, but whether or not it has a story, it’s still a scar, and that scar doesn’t define us, so why should pain?
“Because knowing you’re okay is worth the pain that having you in my arms causes.”
Call me a rebel because I want to be fucked by one.
“You’re right, Nate, I was wet for him.” He stills, but I remain strong. “And you fucking me in a bathroom like a cheap bitch isn’t going to stop the fact that I might fuck him too. Excuse me.”
When Nate bears his soul to you, he takes yours as collateral.
“You don’t have to forgive me to fuck my face, baby. We’ve had this discussion.”
“We’re all fucking crazy, Tillie, but it’s who we stay sane for that matters. You need to for you. Love is just an anchor. It can either be the reason you drown or the reason you float. You can’t ride on that to keep you sane.”
You stay sane for yourself, because you can’t give people that kind of power. You have to make it—for you.”
“Give me those eyes again and I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat they’ll pop out of your skull.”
“You like that, baby?” he asks, his fingers tightening around my chin and yanking my face up to his. “On your knees, bound by your cum-drenched panties, and gazing up at the words that own you, because I do, Tillie. This King fucking owns you.”
“So wet for me. So wet for the pain, and this is why you will always be mine to gain…”
This isn’t love. It’s pure and undiluted possession.
“You can have my kingdom, but you cannot have my King.”
“You’re not a woman who can be owned. I knew that a long time ago. You may not belong to me, but you belong with me. And there ain’t shit you can do about it.”
“Secrets like this is why people die. Why they run away and why love is burned.”
