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@walkingonoranges
Longing to hear your voice for such a long time almost makes me forget what it sounds like, but then again, how could I ever forget the thing that reminds me of my humanity? I never knew love had a sound, until I heard your laugh with the ears of a prisoner.
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Obsession
Why, he asked himself. Why did he have to love someone like her? He should have known, he should have seen this coming. However, he was too blinded by his love towards her; he was too oblivious to notice.
She could not help it though. She loved the way his breath hitched when she dragged the knife closer to his throat ever so slowly. The fear in his eyes, the sweat glistening on his forehead and way he would beg her to stop when she dug her fingernails into his bruised skin. She loved the sound of his voice going hoarse after screaming in pain. The woman couldnāt get enough of him. She loved him so dearly, and so did he. He held her so close to his fragile heart.
The man couldnāt help falling in love with the smile that decorated her sun-kissed face or the way her touch got ever so slightly gentler when his wrists were about to be cut open by the restrains that kept him bound to the chair. She couldnāt get enough of seeing the red liquid drip onto the floor after cutting the manās thighs open repeatedly, adding more bruises and cuts to his tender body. Oh, how she loved him when his tear and blood stained face looked up at her only to be laughed at.
However, she grew bored of him. The blood staining her clothes and his pained whines annoyed her. She did not enjoy watching his cut up and bloody body try to move away as she got closer anymore. He was a toy, a mere puppet which only served one purpose in lifeā to satisfy her twisted thoughts caused by her growing obsession. Now she just wanted him gone, to be disposed of like all of the other women and men before him.
She tried to get rid of him in a fun way this time. Therefore, she cut him loose and watched him struggle out of the chair. The woman watched the manās weak body slowly try to escape, crawling on the blood soaked floor. As much as he loved her, he just couldnāt bare the amount of pain she put him through just to feed into her obsession with pain and fear. He didnāt dare look back to meet her addicting gaze. The man didnāt waste any time and moved up the stairs and out the door as quickly as his weak and fragile body would allow him.
The woman loved it. She felt shivers run down her spine in anticipation watching him crawl away. Itās as if someone flipped a switch inside of that twisted brain of hers. She suddenly felt possessive over the male that is now staining her floors. She couldnāt let him leave just yet. She sprinted upstairs, catching the almost unconscious man off guard. She quickly got on top of him, pinning his wrists beside his head. He was a dead man and he knew it. The way the female stared down at him made him wish, he just died immediately. The gore of the past few months became a sickness in his emotions; a mind-twisting wave of panic consumed his mind, reaching far beyond any physical retching. The next thing the woman did made him feel sick to his stomach, disgust spreading throughout the maleās body, making him fall into an immensely obnoxious vertigo. The only thing he could do was cry out in pain, watching the woman as she cut a fatal wound into his chest. She brought the knife up to her face and licked the blood off it while looking into his eyes. The man wanted to look away, but he couldnāt prevent himself from maintaining eye contact. Maybe it was the curiosity that was plaguing his brain, or did he like it? He was no masochist in any way, he had experienced enough of it throughout his life, emotional and physical pain, but something about that woman just enchanted him. Feeling his own life slip away, he grabbed the knife and slit the womanās throat. Her yelp was cut off by blood rushing down her neck and onto the manās chest. She collapsed with a smile on her face next to him. Both of them maintaining eye contact as they let themselves slip into an eternal state of unconsciousness.
I feel your warmth in every candle I light
Feel your caress in every breeze at night
Think of your words when I cower
And see you in every blooming flower