Honey
Roman devoured my mouth, his hand leaving sticky, bloody fingerprints against my cheek. He should have scared me, walking into his room looking like a murderer fresh from a crime scene. It seemed like second nature to him.
How many times had he come back drenched in someone else's blood? There was a metallic quality to how he smelled on a normal day as if that scent of blood clung to him. I couldn't find it in me to be afraid of him.
Because once he washed all the red away, he would remain. Just skin left behind. I knew he had demons. I knew he killed people. But none of that bothered me. I still wanted him.
Especially when he looked at me like I was something precious.
I parted my lips and let him kiss me, on my tiptoes, hands thrown over his shoulders to pull him close enoug
