For The Thrill

Chapter 5

Soo-Jin felt the glass shard slice into her thumb and she held in a tight hiss. Her hands grabbed tighter, deprived of sensation when her eyes fell back to him. The air around her grew short when he scooted closer to her. His hand still held her waist, keeping her in place and feeling the harsh glitter of her dress.

"Am I the first?" She asked, her voice shaking. She wanted to feel better about dying here next to his body if everything didn't go well. He'd fuck her dead, slit her open to hold her heart against his. She was sure of it. But there should have been signs. Why weren't there any signs? Why was she so awestruck by the idea that someone wanted to love her, to touch her? To not wrinkle their eyebrows at the simple sight of her to notice anything? He was so good to her.

"So you haven't done this before?" Now she was just stalling, awaiting the courage to sink into her and leave her jittered arms. She reminded herself of the moments he kissed her tenderly, held her desperately, and whispered into her ear so seductively. He was not who he used to be. She could end his life and it wouldn't change anything.

"Never. I let them walk away."

She wanted to ask, but he caught on and answered, afraid her lips would go sore. "No, but- see, your different. You let me love you. You let me hold your heart in my fingers and closed your eyes to me. But it went so dark you couldn't hear me. And you can't imagine how much it hurt."

She had to do it now before he stitched his lips into hers- she put a hand on his chest again. Then Soo-Jin readied her grasp. He paused. Almost waiting. Almost mocking.

"Could you really do it?" He whispered. And for a moment his eyes turned cold and distant.

But she had done enough thinking by then. She swung. Stabbed the side of his neck and he groaned, like a monster calling for its god. But Dreyes didn't have a god to call to. He had a woman to curse. He had a woman to hurt. A woman he could test her breath to see when or how it would give out. He came crawling to her, blood dripping to stain the innocent white of his buttoned shirt and wet the gravel beneath him. He watched her with narrowed eyes and jaw hung.

"I'm sorry." It came out of her before she could process anything. And somehow between his groans he heard her whisper and forced his arms to carry his weight quicker.

She thought he would fall to his death so quickly that she wouldn't have to see what she had done. To feel the pinch of guilt tickle her spine and dry her throat. She used to love him, she told herself. All hatred had vanished.

She got up before his arms could reach for her. She ran towards the staircase. She could hear him call for her as she climbed up but she didn't dare decipher the sound.