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You can’t fix a psychopath. You can’t fix a sociopath. But you can guide them, hone their focus. Teach them how to direct their rage towards those who deserve it.”
Adam had no baseline for normal. He could only watch and mimic what he saw. He wasn’t a six-year-old boy. He was a six-year-old robot currently downloading the software that made a six-year-old boy.
Adam woke with his arms around Noah, his body tucked snuggly against him. He was small compared to Adam’s six foot two, but he fit perfectly, allowing Adam to all but envelop him when they spooned. He liked the idea of people having to go through him to get to Noah. It was a foreign concept. He didn’t know how to describe it. From the moment he’d seen him standing there, holding that gun on him, Adam had just known he wasn’t going to let him go. Ever.
He seemed to be this strange mixture of brute force and childlike possessiveness, like Noah was his new favorite toy and he’d smash it before he’d let anybody else play with it. That shouldn’t have been hot…but it was. Noah had never been anybody’s favorite anything.
Honestly, if I said half the things I think when I look at you, you’d run screaming into the night.”
“I know you’re mine. I know it. Deep down, in that part of my brain that doesn’t care what is right or how society dictates how people choose a mate. I chose you. I want you. Just you. My brain has picked you, and now, I can’t undo it. You’re trapped. With me. For life.”