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She’s broken in a way that is plain as day to me, calling out to my own greedy demons. I’ve always loved breaking things, and she’s teetering on the edge of destruction. I want nothing more than to shove her off the precipice and follow her all the way down to the depths of Hell.
There’s something fascinating about her pain. I desperately want to hurt her, but something stops me. I can’t be that person with her. It’s not normal.
She refuses to look away, and it’s killing me. Is this what it feels like to be seen? Most of the time, I feel like I’m already dead. No one sees me anymore because I’ve been invisible for so long. Even the guys fall into the habit of ignoring me.
Brushing my lips against hers, it feels like with one wrong move, she’ll break. I want her to break. Fall apart in my arms. Cling to me like a lifeboat. Nobody has ever needed me before. What would it feel like to be wanted?
We’re like two broken shards of glass, smashed and scattered beyond repair. As the pieces mingle together, you can’t tell which bit came from where. It doesn’t even matter anymore. You just have a worthless mess, but it’s still irreplaceable.
I will keep this family together, one way or another. If Brooklyn wants to screw with my guys, then there isn’t going to be any special treatment. We’re a fucking family, and families share.
