Sleeping beside her was a mistake.
It’s even worse that I had an arm over her.
We looked like lovers, hiding in the woods, cuddling by the fire when that is the farthest from what was really happening. She and I are not lovers, nor will we ever be, and nor will she ever have one. Not while I'm still alive.
I tell myself that I have to do this, chain her to me, because I know that she will escape the first chance she gets. And chaining myself to her will stop that from happening, but the chain is not that long, and I am forced to press against her the entire night.
This is not the first time I’ve watched her sleep. For months, I have watched this all before. I know her routine like it is my own. I know the way her body works. Her eyes will flutter close, her heavy breaths that come next
