Handsome. Dangerous. Tortured.
From a young age I learned love is a smokescreen. It does nothing, but bring heartbreak and pain. My solace came from the darkness, from watching fear flicker in their pretty eyes. It’s all I knew.
We’re forbidden. We shouldn’t crave this. But there’s no longer a way out.
Unless we find common ground, unless I let her in.
Polished. Pristine. Broken.
From a young age, I found solace in the dark, comfort in pain, and relief with a blade. It became normal to hide away, to watch the crimson trickle out as contentment flooded me. It’s all I knew.
It’s illicit. It’s morally wrong. But desire has a mind of its own.
I thought I was free. But this love was a cut so deep, it would never heal.