Deranged (18+)

Prologue

She was a sight for sore eyes. Her dark hair pulled back in a low bun, loose tendrils framing her smiling face. Her eyes shun with anything but sadness, showing me that she felt happy when she was with me, giving me the confirmation I needed.

She laughed as I joked, saying one day she's going to fall in love with some country boy because she sure loves those southern idiots.

She didn't deny my claims and only rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder with my own.

The whole time, all I could think about were her red lips. She's always loved the color red, and sometimes I think it's because I've always said it suits her. Every time she blushes and tells me I need to stop complimenting her because she gets embarrassed, but I never listen.

She deserves every word I whisper to her, and more. She's just so wordlessly beautiful, so pure and angelic, never once touched or tainted.

I want her to stay that way. Everyone else in this world is disgusting and vile, committing terrible crimes and acts against humanity. It makes my skin crawl and my fists clench in raging anger.

She's the only thing in this world that is perfect, that has done no wrong. No man or woman would ever be good enough for her.

Especially not me.

But I couldn't help the long forgotten feeling of hope blossom within my chest when she'd stare at me with innocence in her big, brown eyes. When she'd slide her hand in my own, her touch leaving a pleasant burning trail along my skin as she lay beside me while we listened to The Beatles, enjoying the music together, as one.

I tried to stop these unforgivable, dirty feelings but I couldn't because no matter how hard I pushed them down, they would always resurface. She's intoxicating, her innocence reeling me in and leaving me breathless and begging for just one touch, just one lasting taste.

She's the only thing that gives me air, the only thing that gives me peace, a cliché but the ultimate truth. And I pray that she never leaves me alone in this cruel, horrifying world. If she ever did, I wouldn't know what I'd do.

Sometimes she'll fall asleep and I'll just watch her as she snores quietly, mumbling incoherent words in her peaceful slumber. Somehow she's even more innocent with her eyes closed, which I don't understand how is even humanly possible, but it is when it comes to her, my Ivy.

Her name doesn't suit her, but in my situation it somewhat does. She's poison on my skin and all she does is grow and spread as I try to itch her away, but I'm always left failing.

I always go back into the forest, and start itching again. But the difference between her and the poison is that she doesn't mean to do any harm and she's always blind to the fire she's causing on my calloused skin. She simply has no idea how tantalizing my feelings are for her, and I regret ever letting them grow so inappropriate and impure.

But now they've spiraled out of control and I don't know how much longer I can withstand without touching her soft, begging skin.

She's my best friend, yet also the person who I've become entirely and completely obsessed with. She's me deepest, darkest desire that I wish to smother in kisses and tease with soft strokes of my hand. But I'm bad for her, so incredibly dangerous and deadly.

The question is, when will she realize that? I'm incredibly selfish and hope that day never comes because that'll be the day I lose the one person who's ever mattered to me.