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if two people were ever meant to be,
. . .
The past two weeks were my own version of hell. Every morning, it has become my habit to go straight in front of the mirror to check on my body, on my wounds. And everyday, I was disappointed. The number of bruises grew together with the number of nights I was asleep. He was organized. He kept a schedule.
Every night, before the clock would strike 12, he'd sneak into my room ready to perform his crime. I would close my eyes and pretend I'm asleep, forfeiting to this torture. He'd cover my mouth with a handkerchief, and I would pass out knowing what he would do next, and that I won't remember any of it at daybreak.
That one night he made me remember was the last time he abused me, that I was aware of. He greets me every morning with a voice like that of a siren that could drown a thousand ships, with a smile that could intimidate the warmth of the sun. But all of that didn't matter for he was a tamed cat with a wild lion inside. He's a demon with the face of an angel.
He would always prepare breakfast and ask me to eat with him but he locks me up on the chair, preventing me to escape.
He asked me again this morning, but the locks seemed to have slipped his mind. It was not the best time to panic, so I stayed calm.
"Why me?" I asked the only question that's been replaying on my mind ever since it all started.
"I like you," he replied.
"But I'm not dead."
"Had the same problem before." He made a slurping sound with the soup he prepared. After wiping his mouth, he replied, "But Lizzy was smart. She told me I could drug you, so you'll look as fine as a corpse. The temporary amnesia was a side effect, I'm sorry for that!"
Both of you are f.ucking psychos, I thought.
"Thank you for being my personal cadaver." He smiled.
"Why won't you let me dominate you this time?"
"What do you mean?" He was more intimidated than puzzled. I hope he lets me do it.
I stood from my chair, revealing to him I'm not locked up. But that didn't surprise him, however, what I did next caused a smile on his face.
"Hyeri..." he spoke softly.
I sat on his lap and buried my lips on his collarbone as I left a trail of kisses all the way to his jawline. I remember the day he taught me that, the way he wanted it to be done. He left out a lowly moan as I bit his jaw. His hands reached out on my thighs, crawling their way to my rear.
