"Happy birthday, little El."
I watched her stride in, eating and digesting my words, she was anything but little.
I had seen her go from a sadistic child in pig tails to a ravishing sociopath in designer suits.
"It's time Adam, you promised. And I do hate promise breakers, oh so much."
She made herself comfortable on my lap.
Touching every part of me, my hair to toes, twirling my blond locks like a toy. Personal space was not a word in her vocabulary.
"And what promise was that, love?"
I indulged her; let her play her wicked games.
All these years, I just waited, waited until I could finally taste her static lips, and be shocked many times over.
For one so young, she made me want to devour her, and have devilish fun along with her.
"Stories, remember? But after it I'll give you what you've been craving for oh so long."
She was playful, using me, but I just went along, like a good little puppy.
"And what would that be?"
Suddenly her soft lips were on mine, glowing blue with power, never parting when I let lose a scream of pain.
She pulled away, leaving me yearning for more; a million more kisses like that.
"You taste like blueberries."
"You taste like death, with a bit of old books. Now, story time!"
"Where shall I start? Japan or New York?"