Satan Reincarnate

Her Prettiest Problem

(Bills POV)

***

I looked down at her, feeling like I was swaying with the sweet stuff in my system. I practically giggled thinking of how sensitive she was, emotionally and physically. I inhaled more smoke, and leaned down to press my lips against hers. I parted them with my tongue, and exhaled the cloud of smoke into her mouth. I closed her lips together, and sashayed out of the room after giving her one last look and grab on the thigh- my mind loopy. I stumbled into my bathroom across the slim hall, and flicked on the bright, white light. I bent down slightly so I could see myself entirely in the mirror, and smiled. I never disliked what I saw. I looked myself up and down, my eyes resting on the bold, black star against the flushed skin of my pelvis. I leaned my hands onto the sink, and looked at my face through lowered eyes. I grinned, not seeing a single flaw. I licked my bottom lip, watching the cigarette move with my mouth. I grabbed it, and tapped the excess ash off into the sink.

I sighed, and looked at myself into the mirror with a groggy smile. I didn't know why I had to force her to give herself to me, i was literally perfect. But she didn't see that. Sometimes I wondered what she thought, and why I couldn't understand it. I dropped my smile, and pushed myself off of the counter. I hated how she made me feel, I hated how everything made me feel. Since I dragged her along with me, she's all I've been able to think about. Even while high or drunk, it's only her. And I hated how I couldn't understand her, understand the way she thought. And now drugs do nothing but amplify all the confusion and stress it caused me, they don't relax me anymore. Maybe I wasn't using enough.

"Stupid, stupid fucking.." I groaned, and hit the palm of my hands against my temples. My groan turned into a yell, and I smashed the cigarette into the wall. I fumed as I watched it fall to the ground, My ears ringing as I stormed back into my bedroom.

I looked at her as she lay on my bed, beginning to stir awake. I curled my top lip back, and grabbed her shoulders with as much force as I could. She let a startled whine escape her lips as her eyes ever so slightly opened, looking at me.

"You're not allowed to be awake yet." I sneered down at her.

I tore her from my sheets, and flung her across the room by her wrist. She hit the wall with a loud thud, and crumbled to the ground with a gasp stuck in her motionless mouth. I stayed still, breathing heavily in and out as I watched her slide down. There was a crack in the drywall, and dark smears coming from her scalp. I shut my mouth, and turned away from her with my hands resting heavy on my face. My veins tingled, and it was like I was hyperaware of everything. I felt the usual, refreshing twisted sense of satisfaction wash over me as I listened in on her shallow breathing behind me.

Feeling the tension in the air, I slowly approached her. My eyes, hidden behind my eyelashes, scanned her prone form, taking in every detail i could make out. I bent down and picked her up from my arm, my breath ragged as I began to feel sweat bead up on my forehead. I took her by her waist and threw her over my shoulder, holding her by the back of her legs. My heart slowly beat as I stomped to the bathroom, Angelina like a rag doll in my hands.

I clicked the door shut, and locked it. I submerged her immobilized body into the bathtub, and worked off her shirt with soft grunts.

"You..." I started, running my hands over her body. "Are coming with me today." My voice transitioned to a whisper. "To meet some friends." I leaned over her wounded self, and twisted on the water.

With a smile, I let my hands explore her body with the excuse of washing her. She was so warm, even warmer with the blood running down her figure from her temple. Her face was flushed, I loved seeing her like this. I hadn't known why, but when her body was relaxed she was just so.. I didn't have the right word.