"I want to defile you, destroy you, corrupt you in the most sinfully beautiful way. Break you until you're completely mine."
"And then?"
"Then I'll piece you back together, of course." He took another step in her direction, closing the distance be...
A/N: The last part of this chapter includes mentions of sexual abuse, proceed with caution.
In chess, everyone wishes to capture the Queen.
Without her, the King waits, defenceless, for his opponents to take him down.
Without the Queen, the King is useless.
Without the Queen, Chaos erupts.
There comes a time in someone's life when they realise that even the Queen is a pawn.
Still, Chaos erupts.
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"Am I interrupting something?"
Nathan didn't react at first, clearly not realising that the comment was directed at them or not caring. He continued pressing his lips to hers with the same urgency and desperation as he had moments ago when salvation seemed close enough to touch.
He was so far gone that he didn't notice the way her body stiffened and slowly turned to stone. Not for a couple of seconds, at least.
"What's wrong?" He murmured just a breath away from her lips.
Keeping her eyes shut, Guinevere gently pushed Nathan away and hesitantly moved to stand in front of him without uttering a single word. However, when she got her first glimpse of Seth's figure, all that sudden bravery vanished into thin air.
Your hair's darker, was the first frivolous thought that came to her brain, acting as a coping mechanism of sorts. It worked. She hadn't lost her mind, yet. And your eyes are colder. Has anyone else received this look recently, anyone other than me?
No, she replied to herself softly, barely even noticing the way Nathan's eyes burned holes into her back, no, if you had given it elsewhere you wouldn'tbe here. So many years and there stillhasn't been anyone else. I don't know whether to be glad or sad about that.
Yes, his hair was darker and his eyes were colder but other than that, he looked the same. The same square jaw, the same light stubble, the same engagement ring on his finger.
He asserted her, too. He judged the love bites that were just beginning to form on her neck, dark like bruises. He judged her dress and resisted the urge to throw his jacket on her and cover every inch of her skin. He judged the way the professor put his hands on her and the lack of an engagement ring.
"Who are you?" Nathan inquired once he'd regained control of his brain. He lifted a brow, meticulously studying the intruder.
On the outside he looked but a perfect gentleman. The easy charm and the aristocratic manners said as much but there was something vacant in his eyes that unnerved the professor.
