"DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T. FUCKING. GET. CAUGHT."
She chanted these words repeatedly, displaying reasons and visualising the aftermath of getting caught.
You'll be bonded. Restrained. Confined. With no freedom over yourself. Prayin...
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“I don't care. I don't fucking care.”
Waves after waves of fear ran over my heart, making it pound akin to an haunting alarm. The alluring smile on his lips was wicked, full of malice and cruelty.
He was a monster.
A monster capable of anything and everything.
A monster who has burned the world.
A monster who has burned humanity– homes, people, families, children and what not.
It was revolting. The dull ache in my chest wasn't painful, but downright disgusting. I loathed myself for feeling anything else other than hatred for him.
“You are stubborn. Too stubborn.”
His voice was gentle and soft, like always, he spoke with catastrophic tenderness wrapped around the sides of his cords. Decreasing the distance betwixt us, he nudged my nose with his– a gentle warning.
“And I don't do well with stubborn girls, love.”
Something sizzling hot burned my thumping heart, as I gazed into his unalike coloured eyes. They were shining– brightly.
Red and blue.
Blood and ice.
“I doubt the probability of your zone having stubborn girls .”
He chuckled, and taking that opportunity into the grasp of my hand I moved my head back away from his. Instantly he gripped the back of my neck, not allowing me to move even an inch away from him.
“I can hear your heart, love.”
I hate him.
I hate him.
I hate him.
Clenching my jaw, I focused on the blood that leisurely dripped down his relaxed fists. An unknown desire to cradle those rough fists in my hands ignited my insides.
I was losing.
Myself and my mind.
I was losing it all.
And I hated it.
If having a mate makes people feel like this, then I was better off without one. I wasn't ready to give up on my freedom. I wasn't ready to lose. I wasn't ready to compromise with anything. I wasn't ready to be shackled and treated like a toy who'd bow to her proprietorial owner.
No.
I refused to be something like that.
Everything was driving me insane at this point. His face. His touch. His words, however mean they were. They were driving me mad, taking me to the space that existed between sanity and insanity, but everytime I tried giving myself up, everytime I loosened the strings that tied me to sanity.
