𝟐𝟓 || 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄

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That was the best sex of my life.

I didn't believe in God, but I started to question my own beliefs, because this moment felt like fucking heaven. Violet was sitting up with the sheets pulled to her chest, leaning on her elbow while my arm was slinked around her bare waist.

"What does this one mean?" She asked, pressing her fingertips to one of the tattoos on my bicep. I could barely focus on anything she was saying, because all I could think about was her.

Her, her body in my bed, her body in my arms; her here, here with me.

My mind, always racing with adrenaline and pushed away fears, had surrendered completely to her. I had known her for all of a few weeks and she was already my greatest weakness.

Now that I had her like this, I think if anything ever happened to her I wouldn't just lose my mind, but I would lose myself too; my body, my composure, my dignity. There was only her now.

Everything about her made me lose all of my senses. Every curve of her body, every gentle sigh she made when she breathed, every goddamn blink in her dangerously captivating eyes. Her warmth and softness against me, felt like a living, breathing miracle.

"It's a saying," I told her, focussed on her face while her eyes scanned the tattoo intently. I think she might've had a thing for them— tattoos, because she wouldn't stop talking about mine. She took in every careful detail of my body, touching it all, and I loved every second of it.

Her subtle yet vibrant scent of roses had filled my room, and it was almost as if the atmosphere had changed around her. "I can't read it." She frowned.

""Il sangue avrà il sangue," I said for her, "blood will have blood."

"That's Shakespeare," she replied.

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I woke up to the sound of a crash coming from the downstairs. My heart pounded in my chest as I jolted upright in bed, my senses suddenly on high alert. I guess the sound woke up Violet too, because she was already slowly sitting up, brushing the hair from off of her face.

She fell asleep shortly after that conversation, sleeping with her head laying on my forearm, and her back pressed against me. "What was that?" She asked, her voice still drowsy from sleep.

I couldn't answer her, instead, I quickly got dressed, getting out of bed and pulling my scattered clothing from the floor. As I tugged my shirt over my head, I knelt down to my bedside table, opening it and collecting an already loaded gun.

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