Little Deaths

by Nenia Campbell

The cops aren’t your friends.

“Rafe—I’m not a good person.” “I don’t care.” He pressed her hand against his chest. His heart was pounding furiously. “Every time you’re near me, it’s like this. Why do you think that is?” Her fingers curled, catching on his shirt collar. “I’m going to hurt you.” “Then do it,” he growled. “Hurt me. Fuck me. Just don’t send me away.”

The devotion? Chefs kiss. Fantastic , ill have 15

“I never saw you that way,” she cried. “God, Rafe. You were the same age as I was when I—when I—” Her voice broke.

Chat? Can we get a round of 'feels bad' in the chat tonight?