A Match Made in Hell

56

"Turn that off." He says coldly, referring to the lights I just flicked on.

"Why?" I scoff, his unnecessary reaction to lights bother me, but I keep that to myself in fear that he may say something stupid again.

"It's hurting my eyes." He says, rubbing his eyes. "They're so tired, I don't want to look at anything. Turn all the lights off, Nick."

"Okay." I nod expressionlessly, grabbing his chin.

I push some of his hair out of his face, absolutely fascinated by those beautiful blue eyes, piercing a hole through my soul.

So sharp, sharper than a knife, sharp enough to stab me in the heart multiple times over and over.

He could poison that knife, torture me to my death and id still be inlove with him. I'd be happy to be killed by him, I'd be happy if he were the last thing I saw before I died.

I get lost in those gorgeous, doe, blue eyes, drowning in that deep ocean, full of love. Full of lust, compassion, desire, adoration, a million things I can't seem to count.

I tilt his chin up closer to me, flicking the lights off like he had instructed me to do a few seconds ago. I got distracted by him.

"I can't see you." He mutters, His voice croaky and low, solemn but quiet. I slowly reach out for his wrist, barely touching him as I try to lift his hand up with my fingertips guiding below his hand.

He chuckles like I'm pathetic, making fun of me, trying not to make it obvious. "Am I that fragile? I'm not made of glass, Nicholas. Stop finding an excuse to be afraid when there's nothing to be afraid of."

He holds his hand on my, tightening my grip on his wrist, dropping his hand once he knows I'm holding him without letting go so easily.

I slowly bring his hand to my face, a shiver going down my spine painfully as his fingertips trace lines and circles on my face lightly, he could get my face electrocuted.

"Karl—" I breathe out, my breath hitching. I blush in embarrassment when he sees how much I hesitate, when he sees how he absolutely destroys me and fucks my mindset up whenever he touches me, even an extremely careful and soft touch.

I bring my hand to his face, relaxing into his touch in time as I start to trace his jaw with my index fingertip, causing him to tremble slightly under my touch.

My thumb moves over to his lip, running over the soft, full lips. He gently kisses the tip of it, I can barely feel it. He's the one acting like I'm fragile, why is he doing the exact same thing when he said that to me?

I try to memorise every detail on his face without being able to see him, only touching his face with my fingers, my palm finally finding its place on his cheek, completely heating up and almost burning my skin, scarring it all over.

He sucks on the tip of my thumb lightly, so slowly that it makes my heart beat out of my chest due to impatience.

I push my finger further into his mouth, he takes it inbetween his lips, just like how I had wanted him to, but my words were left unsaid. He knows everything I want, everything I crave. I fucking love this man.

I gently push him towards the wall, his back leaning onto the door instead, making him gasp onto my hand in shock, but he quickly goes back to what he was doing earlier.

I slowly run my free hand down to his waist, slowly guiding it to his hips, then sliding them aside as I grip onto his ass, pulling his body closer to mine so that we're touching.

I move my thumb out of his mouth, a trial of saliva still connecting his plump pink lips to my finger, his lips parted as he breathes out something inaudible under his breath.