What if I pulled you to another room and handed you a sword and told you to kill me however you wanted (just end it with a stab to the heart), and all I asked was that you not leave me here alone after? And what if you accepted, and when it was done you lifted me so gentle and helpless in your hands, stared for a moment into my bloody, intoxicating heart before turning and choosing to damn someone else so that I could live again. What if I had told you I was scared and you soothed the wounds that weren't yours before pulling me back to my feet?
And we were both theater lovers




















