⟨ status: complete ⟩
"They say artists are nothing but sad people, unaccepted by society of who they are. Masking themselves in 'personas' to fit in." She turned to him, placing her beloved paintbrush on the table with her face adorning a beautiful...
Notes: THIS IS NOT PLOT RELEVANT NOR IT IS CANON—OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT IN ENGLISH— (not part of the story???) I MADE THIS BECAUSE, BECAUSE I WANNA TEST OUT YANDERE CAMILO + OBSESSED READER BECAUSE WHY NOT
And despite how intimate it may seem no it is not smut just a bunch of kissing.
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— -SPECIAL CHAPTER- —
She tastes like deliciously bitter coffee, absolutely addicting, gentle eyes stare just for me, only for me.
"Amor..." Camilo breathed, inhaling her scent —he can't get enough of it. He held her body tighter, his sweet oblivious love, his one and only.
"I love you..." He whispered lovingly in her ears, caressing and combing her hair affectionately.
Say it back.
Say it back.
Say it back.
"I love you too..." She softly replied, touching his hand that held her reddened cheeks, her head of hair formed an almost a halo from above her head as she laid on the mattress.
She was not oblivious, she knew, the signs were clear as day —yet she let it happen. Perhaps she herself was obsessed as well, in her own little way.
He kissed her as if it was his last, honeyed words dripping unto her ears and to her mind, hands roamed her body like he was touching fine silk, he treated her like a goddess. And like a goddess she was, he worships her every being.
She nearly cried as her ears picked up his low hums, so beautiful, goodness it was absolutely heavenly.
"You're mine, only mine. Not to that man, to any woman, or to anyone else. Just mine."
"Just yours, and only yours." She replied, eyes half-lidded as she basked in the love he graciously poured unto her.
Peppermint kisses and candied words, their love taste like licorice, such a delicious poison. They wouldn't have it any other way.
"You don't understand, Cariño. I'd willingly kill a man for you if you so wish." His hand tangled with hers, his other comfortably situated on her waist —giving it a light squeeze ever so often.
He leaned in, leaving kisses on her jawline —her free hand tangled with the thicket of his curly locks as she sighed in content, pupils dilating from being smothered with love by him.
How fascinating how a sweet young teen such as him, grew into a love-crazed obsessive man. A very possessive man. Very fascinating indeed.
The human mind is certainly an interesting thing.
"I know." She replied, her voice breathy as she felt overwhelmed with him. But somehow she can't get enough of it.
"If you knew, then why look at him then?"
I like you all riled up like this.
"Why must you hurt me so, didn't you say you love me?"
I like how you shower me with affection.
"I gave you my everything, yet you still look the other way." He gripped her hand tighter, almost blocking circulation.
"Mi Cielo, mi Rey." She cooed, her free hand caressing his freckled cheeks, drawing gentle circles.
You are a beautiful piece of art, I wish to paint every inch of you with my love.
"I love you so much, forgive me for looking the other way, his face felt familiar, and it sparked an unpleasant memory within me. That's why I looked at him."
"Unpleasant? Should I dispose of them for you?" He kissed the back of her hand, as he stared at her, awaiting for her reply.
"Do as you wish."
You look quite handsome in red anyways.
"My, what a liberty."
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