"Why are you doing this?" I implored.
I had to ask, even though it was a waste of attempt since I had been asking the same for weeks, and he wouldn't make sense of what he really wanted that had caused so much loss and agony.
"That day when you stitched me up, you wanted to taste my blood. I left the room while you have it stained all over your hands." He casually remarked, and I stiffened in his arms.
Just great. Look how it is in this moment when he has me all wrapped around his fingers and completely bare in his hands; he chooses to break me.
"Why are you doing this." I croak and swallow, holding my breath to control my heartbeat.
"You kissed me. You wanted it so bad; you snatched it anyway." He whispered, his fingertip trailing below my abdomen. It was hard to centralize on a par
