𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. |

🌹 soraya11 🌹

[ 5:42 PM ]

with one final push, i stop. my lungs wheeze for air as i take a seat on my butt. i look at dominic next to me, his breathing hitching and uneven as well.

"movies make this shit seem so easy," i breathe, shaking my head.

"movies are dramatized. how many times do i have to say it?" he questions. after a long silence, "how are we going to do this?"

"why are you helping me?" i ask, the question flying out of my mouth before i have the chance to decide if i wanted to ask it or not.

he doesn't bother to catch my gaze. he stares ahead, out the only window in the living room.

i'm now noticing the immense quiet around here.

she's finally done.

she's finally not yelling anymore. i don't have to hear her voice ever again.

she doesn't have control anymore.

i do.

i have full control.

he inches his hand toward mine which rests a few centimeters from his. my body warms the closer he gets until he snakes his pinky around mine.

"why shouldn't i help you?"

his touch sends a jolt of electricity running up my arm.

"that's not an answer," i tell him finding myself getting distracted by the sensation.

"i don't have a definitive reason." he moves his hand to grasp mine. "just promise me."

"what?"

the energy that seems to form from our touch, feels euphoric and stronger than when he first bumped into me.

why?

"promise me."

"promise you what?" i ask him, staring at our hands. i try to not to get lost in this euphoria.

why does it feel so alluring; so tempting? why is this hard to control?

"promise you'll stay with me," he says, finally deciding to look me in the eyes.

i swallow my spit, nervously.

his eyes speak to the serious nature of his request. his devotion to his powers and his want for me to devote myself to this sixth sense that we have no idea about. a sensation that feels really good but could be a destruction.

"dominic..." i trail off, wanting to remove my hand from his but not wanting this feeling to go away. "i don't... i don't do promises," i rush out.

"how can you say that when we produce this?" he asks turning his body to me and laying his free hand on my neck. "this unbelievable feeling! don't you want to know why this happened? don't you want to know more about who you are? you are finally free from your mom, her tyrants and malicious words. stay with me. let this feeling take control."

the energy he's feeding me accomplishes one thing: a baseline to believe him.

our energy fills me inside, like i've found my other half.

but not in a love-wise retrospect, but it's possible that it could be that as well.

bonded together in a single ball. a single atom. a single soul.

i've never felt this. this is strong. this is powerful.

it's more than physical.

it's more than emotional.