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Stark grey orbs capture me, twisting something low down in my stomach as she looks at me, like, really looks at me, sees me.
“Charlie,” I say loudly, Pat’s attention finally resettling on me. “Be a doll and remove one of his eyes, I’m feeling… thirsty,” I shrug, “and it’s five o’clock somewhere,” I smile, a maniacal slightly deranged grin.
WTF...
Eli holds out a perfectly prepared martini –minus the olive- to Charlie who proceeds to drop one of Pat’s beady little eyeballs into it, the clear liquid sloshing over the rim of the glass. Eli screws his face up in disgust holding the glass out as far as his arm will stretch, before handing it over to me. I hold the glass up into the air, peering into it from the bottom of the glass, coming eye to eye with Pat’s. I chuckle to myself.
Ahhh... Five O'clock somewhere, indeed.
This guy is a fucking psychopath and I mean, I should know; I’m one too.
can already feel myself being drawn in with the tide and dragged under and I really hope she decides I’m worthy enough to be drowned by her.
she’s the queen of her darkness and I can only hope I get to be the slave that surrenders to her every wicked whim.
Thing is, it’s a real possibility that my half-dead heart could start to beat itself back to life with one of the men in this room, possibly with both of them... should I just cut the bleeding bitch out right now and offer it up to them to ruin? Send the last broken pieces of me off into the ever burning blackness of damnation? Do I give this up now before it starts, before it gets messy?
Kacey carries this like, alpha-male, cocksure, big dick energy around with him but shutters it with his silence.
Reminds me of a song about a bad bitch and fantasies!
Those liquid gold eyes make my heart flutter and my toes curl and my demon claws at my chest to spring free, she can feel Kacey’s monster and she wants it.
“you deserve two men who will worship you like the goddess you are.” And that’s when I die. His words completely shatter my soul, forcing the tiny pieces to float off into the skies, leaving my boneless body behind.
I need two men in my life!
The last thing I feel before I submit to the darkness is a pair of strong hands banded around my broken body, like they’re trying to hold me together. But the thing is, you can’t fix what’s already broken. And I, I’m already broken beyond repair.
Dillon is Charlie’s pet duck, well, not pet, Dillon is, was, his companion. Dillon died a really fucking long time ago but the thing about Charlie is that he can’t let anything go. Once he has something that is his, it’s not going anywhere, even in death. So, Eli had Dillon taxidermied, taxidermed? Is that a word? Oh, fuck, I don’t know! But he had him stuffed and shit so he was preserved and then Eli made wooden training wheels for him, sort of like a little cart, so Charl can drag him around his torture dungeon without having to touch his pretty white feathers with bloodied hands.
I love Charlie. Broken, terrifying, violent Charlie.
I’m never letting them go. Even if I have to kill them and stuff them and drag their lifeless, beautiful corpses around on wooden wheels for the rest of my life then I will.
It’s weird isn’t it? That voice inside your head that’s actually just you but that feels like someone else? Like there isn’t actually a person sitting up there prattling out shit to me, it’s just me, my subconscious spewing shit that doesn’t make it from my brain to my tongue, shit that’s better left unsaid or words that aren’t socially acceptable.
I have a demon inside of me. But is it just an extension of myself or something else entirely? Is the demon really just my tarnished, shadowed soul?
Unrequited love, be it in the form of a parent, sibling or lover. Nothing is more gut-wrenching than that of a broken heart.
Because Charlie? He’s the other half to my deranged, fractured soul. We are the same, him and I. We are one. We kill for each other and would die for each other, no questions asked. I would go to hell for him and drag him with me if he asked. We could rule it together.
Chaos Twins.
Charlie is my entire life. He means everything to me. Everything.
‘We’re endgame, Lala, you and me. Soulmates of the darkest kind, you’ll always be mine.’
Maddox Fucking Sharpe!
The experts say there’s only three types of bleeding, capillary, arterial and venous. But there’s a fourth Emotionally.
I’m his reason for breathing, like the planets orbit the sun and I’m his sun.
I know this is it, this is our beginning and our end, oh, how I wish I were wrong, but I just know. This is his goodbye.
I can feel her heart shattering.
‘burn it to the ground, burn it all, burn the world, show them you won’t take their shit lying down, burn it all down.’
“Your arse wriggled against me so violently, you were like a giant caterpillar trying to shimmy out of its shell! I feel violated by the whole thing if we’re being totally honest,” he cries in mock outrage.
Hux, you coy bastard.
Love hurts. Love cuts and breaks and torments. Love shatters even the most solid of people.
I’m praying that I won’t have to stab a bitch though;
Amen.
He told me that no matter where we are, whether together or apart, if we both look up at the stars when we miss one another, wherever the other one of us is, we can rest easy knowing that we’re both looking up at the same sky.
Making me swoon!
In some strange sort of way, my soul knows them, whether from another life or not, I don’t know. But when their souls meld with mine they’re like the kindling to my flame, they spark something inside me that no one else could ever replace and continuously build me up.
