Cнα⅊тɛʀ 23 (edited)

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Elijah's P

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Elijah's P.O.V

Every day, every hour, every minute, every second I spent thinking about her. The way her eyes shone whenever I referred to her by Miss Nora instead of Miss Jones with that spark of pride and satisfaction. It was a rare sight since I only ever referred to her by the former when she was hurt, or my guard dropped, and I showed some concern. The latter I had to use whenever I needed her to know I was superior and she was inferior, I was her boss after all.

My infuriating secret was that I wanted her around me all the goddamn time, when she wasn't near me life lost all colours and I became colourblind to the wonders around me. She made me proud of her whenever she stood her ground and didn't take shit from anyone including myself. She was feisty, in an alluring way, that made me want to push all her buttons to the extreme and see her erupt like an art exhibit showcasing its magnificence. Her eyes would always crinkle in distaste before the most beautiful flare of anger crossed her features and made her into a phoenix rising from the ashes. Everything was pointless without her there.

When she wasn't angry, she held the most captivating eyes I'd ever witnessed, always filled with constant curiosity about the world she'd never got to experience. Those eyes were poison in the sense that one look at them and I'd be gone, fully under her spell like she was Medusa, and I was an idiotic slayer that had failed. 'Command me, Nora, I'm yours to do with as you please', I'd never tell her the power she held in her fingertips, I'd play a theatrical scene, showcasing the opposite of my true feelings.

Regardless, whether that be with restaurants, cities, or clothes, I needed to be the reason behind her memories and feelings. Her experiences needed to be magical, and I'd keep everyone away from her if it meant I could keep her to myself, that innocence was pure and rare. She was cocaine to my body, and I was becoming addicted to her in ways that would do more harm than pleasure. Soon she'd be irresistible.

Whenever she smiled or laughed or even bloody spoke, I could hear her, she stood out so much that even if I stuffed my ears with noise blockers, I would still hear that melodic voice luring me into her seductive trap before she'd grab me and drown me like a fool. Even her body and the clothes she wore made my trousers tight and strain, it was delightful in a masochistic kind of way, and I wouldn't dare change it for anything.

'Miss Nora fucking Jones, you're going to be the death of me.'

It was the sincerest truth I'd ever admitted to but the life I lived wasn't meant to be for her and as much as it pained me to push her away and put on a hateful façade it was necessary. She wouldn't be able to handle the dangers or the near-death experiences or even the constant stress and trust issues that came with my job.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror of my bathroom, I tried to envision the perfect man for Nora, but it was fruitless. I didn't want any other man around her, only myself and it wasn't fair that the one thing I'd ever wanted in my life came with inexplainable consequences. I groaned loudly and depressingly before avoiding the man in the mirror and running my fingers through my hair. I'd never be her perfect man, not if I stayed in the fucking underworld like I'd lived my entire life.

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